In a recent essay, I discussed some of
the problems with historical reconstructions of the empire of King David. Among
the most significant of these is the lack of methodological rigor – in
particular, the lack of appropriate approaches to texts and other kinds of
sources. An Iron Age royal inscription is not a 5th century CE manuscript of a
biblical book is not a stone wall or a potsherd. Each has its own very
different problems of interpretation.
Here, I want to explore one specific case of an attempted historical reconstruction in depth: David’s conquest of Jerusalem. If you are familiar with the archaeology and history of ancient Israel, you may have well heard that David’s general Joab was able to conquer Jerusalem by leading a group of Israelites up a water shaft in a surprise attack on the city. This story has been quite popular among scholars and public alike. During her excavation of Jerusalem in the 1960s, the great British archaeologist Kathleen Kenyon remarked “I’d hate to think of Joab getting up that way!” of one possible shaft.[1] Today Elad (the Ir David Foundation) uses the story as part of its efforts to Judaize the City of David.
Here, I want to explore one specific case of an attempted historical reconstruction in depth: David’s conquest of Jerusalem. If you are familiar with the archaeology and history of ancient Israel, you may have well heard that David’s general Joab was able to conquer Jerusalem by leading a group of Israelites up a water shaft in a surprise attack on the city. This story has been quite popular among scholars and public alike. During her excavation of Jerusalem in the 1960s, the great British archaeologist Kathleen Kenyon remarked “I’d hate to think of Joab getting up that way!” of one possible shaft.[1] Today Elad (the Ir David Foundation) uses the story as part of its efforts to Judaize the City of David.
But what is the basis of that reconstruction?
As with most things relating to ancient Israel, understanding the history of scholarship means starting with the Bible. The story of David’s conquest of Jerusalem appears twice in the Bible: in the Second Book of Samuel (chapter 5, verses 6-8) and in the First Book of Chronicles (chapter 11, verses 4-6). I will begin by reproducing the text of each passage, in Hebrew and in English translation (the English translation is my modification of the 1917 JPS [Jewish Publication Society] version):
2 Samuel 5:6-8
וַיֵּלֶךְ הַמֶּלֶךְ וַאֲנָשָׁיו יְרוּשָׁלִַם אֶל-הַיְבֻסִי
יוֹשֵׁב הָאָרֶץ וַיֹּאמֶר לְדָוִד לֵאמֹר לֹא-תָבוֹא הֵנָּה כִּי אִם-הֱסִירְךָ
הַעִוְרִים וְהַפִּסְחִים לֵאמֹר לֹא-יָבוֹא דָוִד הֵנָּה
וַיִּלְכֹּד דָּוִד אֵת מְצֻדַת צִיּוֹן הִיא עִיר
דָּוִד
וַיֹּאמֶר דָּוִד בַּיּוֹם הַהוּא כָּל-מַכֵּה
יְבֻסִי וְיִגַּע בַּצִּנּוֹר וְאֶת-הַפִּסְחִים וְאֶת-הַעִוְרִים שנאו (שְׂנוּאֵי)
נֶפֶשׁ דָּוִד עַל-כֵּן יֹאמְרוּ עִוֵּר וּפִסֵּחַ לֹא יָבוֹא אֶל-הַבָּיִת
6And the king and his men went to Jerusalem against the
Jebusites, the inhabitants of the land. And they said to David, “You will not
come here, except if you turn away the blind and the lame,” thinking, “David
cannot come here.”
7And David captured the fortress of Zion – that is, the
city of David.
8And David said on that day, “Whoever strikes the
Jebusites and reaches [by?] the tsinnor [water channel?] and the lame
and the blind, those hated by David’s soul . . .” Therefore it is said, “The
blind and the lame cannot come to the house.”
1 Chronicles 11:4-6
וַיֵּלֶךְ דָּוִיד וְכָל-יִשְׂרָאֵל יְרוּשָׁלִַם הִיא יְבוּס וְשָׁם הַיְבוּסִי יֹשְׁבֵי הָאָרֶץ
וַיֹּאמְרוּ יֹשְׁבֵי יְבוּס לְדָוִיד לֹא תָבוֹא
הֵנָּה וַיִּלְכֹּד דָּוִיד אֶת-מְצֻדַת צִיּוֹן הִיא עִיר דָּוִיד
וַיֹּאמֶר דָּוִידכָּל-מַכֵּה יְבוּסִי
בָּרִאשׁוֹנָה יִהְיֶה לְרֹאשׁ וּלְשָׂר וַיַּעַל בָּרִאשׁוֹנָה יוֹאָב בֶּן-צְרוּיָה
וַיְהִי לְרֹאשׁ
4And David and all Israel went to Jerusalem – that is,
Jebus – and there were the Jebusites, the inhabitants of the land.
5And the inhabitants of Jebus said to David, “You will
not come here.” And David captured the fortress of Zion – that is, the city of
David.
6And David said, “Whoever strikes the Jebusites first will
become a chief and captain.” And Joab the son of Zeruiah went up first and
became chief.
Some parts of the story are the same in
each version, but others are quite different. How do we explain these
differences? If we approach these texts like historians approaching two
different sources, we might begin by noting their date. Samuel is widely
thought by scholars to have been put into something approaching its current
form around the 7th or 6th centuries BCE (that is, the end of the First Temple
period and the time of the Babylonian Exile, in terms of Jewish history).
Chronicles, on the other hand, is without doubt a product of the Second Temple
Period (maybe the 4th century BCE, the late Persian or the early Hellenistic
period). Samuel, then, is the earlier source. But the Hebrew text of Samuel is
notoriously corrupt: there are many cases of scribal errors and other textual
problems, some easily resolved and some less so. In these three verses alone we
see multiple difficulties: the repeated reference to “the lame and the blind,”
whose meaning is never clear (it appears to refer to some idiomatic expression
which has long since been lost); the apparent beginning of an if-then statement
in verse 8 (“Whoever . . .”) that is never resolved; and the meaning of the
word tsinnor.
Chronicles presents us with a clearer text, but it is important to
understand how Chronicles relates to Samuel. In general, we can see that the
books of Chronicles rely heavily on the earlier books of Samuel and Kings,
retelling much of the same story. We see that reflected in these two passages,
as Chronicles tells the same basic story, and repeats some parts word for word.
However, we also know that Chronicles did other things with the text of Samuel
(and Kings): it expanded on some passages, it omitted others, and it
paraphrased others still. Here, Chronicles has removed all of the difficulties
in the text of Samuel that we noted: it removes all references to the lame and
the blind; it provides a resolution to the if-then statement; and it removes
the word tsinnor. In other words, it appears that the author of
Chronicles deliberately tried to smooth out the difficult passages in Samuel in
order to tell an intelligible story. In particular, Chronicles ends up shaping
the story into an etiological one about how Joab became David’s commander: this
is the first appearance of Joab in Chronicles, but in Samuel he appears earlier
in 2 Samuel as a leader of David’s men. We cannot be sure that that is what is
happening here – at times, Chronicles appears to preserve what is likely an
original reading that became corrupted in the transmission of Samuel – but that
is the likeliest explanation.
If we return to the common historical reconstruction of David's conquest, we will note that neither version has it in full. Joab appears only in Chronicles, while the water shaft is apparently only in Samuel. The common reconstruction, then, does not evaluate the date and reliability of the two sources; instead, it seeks to harmonize them. Given what we know of Chronicles' relationship to Samuel, in general and in this specific passage, this is not a critical way of dealing with the problems of the text. As critical readers, we would prefer the Samuel version as original while noting its difficulties. (Or, alternatively, we might try to argue for the Chronicles version and suggest it was corrupted in Samuel through the process of transmission, though this may be unlikely.) What we would not do is treat both sources as equally reliable – and in this case, completely true.
This is one major problem with the common reconstruction. But there is
more. Let’s now turn to the problematic word tsinnor. Tsinnor is
the basis for the interpretation of “water shaft,” but is that what the word
actually means? Beginning with the known: in modern Hebrew, tsinnor is
the common word for “pipe,” and this or a similar meaning can be traced back to
the time of the Talmud, the early to middle 1st millennium CE. But
what about its meaning in biblical Hebrew a millennium earlier? Tsinnor
occurs in one other passage in the Bible, in Psalm 42:8, where it is clearly
something conveying water (interpreted as “cataract”/”waterfall”,
“water-spout”, “sluice”, etc.). There is also the word tsanterot, from
the same root, which occurs in Zechariah 4:12 and appears to mean spout or
pipe. All of this suggests a broad range of meaning referring to a pipe or
something else that conveys water. And in fact, if we look at the history of
English translation of 2 Samuel 5:8, this is precisely how the passage was
always understood. Early English Bibles all understood tsinnor here as
“gutter” – specifically, the gutters on the roofs of houses.[2] This meaning passed from these earlier English Bibles into the King
James Version, and from there became very influential in understandings of the
passage. However, the 19th century saw a shift in the translation.
Usually it was rendered in Bibles of the time (Young’s Literal Translation,
1862; RV, 1885; Darby Bible, 1890) as “watercourse”; alternatively it was
sometimes understood as “cataract” or “waterfall” (e.g., Julia E. Parker Smith
translation, 1876). None of these translations, however, understood tsinnor
as tunnel, let alone a tunnel through which David’s men snuck into the city. So
what changed?
Charles Warren (via Wikimedia Commons)
The answer lies with a seemingly unlikely man: Charles Warren, a captain in the Royal Engineers, a corps of the British army . . . and later notorious as the London police commissioner who failed to catch Jack the Ripper. Warren was hired by the newly founded PEF (Palestine Exploration Fund) in London to carry out excavations in Jerusalem in the late 1860s. He and his team explored sites throughout the city, looking (in good Protestant fashion) for the original locations of holy sites – specifically, Solomon’s Temple and Calvary, the site of Jesus’s crucifixion. In order to comply with the Ottoman authorities and not dig too close to sites such as the Haram esh-Sharif (the Temple Mount), Warren dropped a series of shafts at a distance (down some 60 or 80 feet) and then tunneled to the walls of the Temple Mount. Of course, these techniques would hardly be seen as scientific by archaeological standards today, but at the time archaeology was in its infancy; and Warren’s mining techniques, honed in the Royal Engineers, were more or less cutting-edge. Tunneling, after all, was a technique employed by Austen Henry Layard in his pioneering digs at sites in Mesopotamia two decades earlier. Through this work, Warren was able to find things such as the original street level of the Second Temple and map out the ancient topography of the city.
Charles Warren tunneling under Jerusalem near the Temple Mount/Haram esh-Sharim, drawn by P.W. Justyne (from C.W. Wilson, C.Warren, et al., The Recovery of Jerusalem, 1871) |
During his explorations, Warren found an
ancient tunnel leading to a vertical shaft – an ancient one, not one he himself
dug – that intersected with the ancient city’s water supply and connected to
the winding tunnel that became known as Hezekiah’s Tunnel or the Siloam Tunnel.
While that tunnel had been previously explored, Warren’s Shaft (as it came to be
known) was a new discovery. And it seemed to show how people within the city
might have accessed water from the spring outside the city walls at the time of
David: by drawing up water through the vertical shaft as if from a well.
Warren's drawing of the tunnel and shaft leading to the water supply, aka the "Virgin's Fount" (from Excavations at Jerusalem 1867-70, pl. 43, detail) |
Warren’s plans and sections were not
published until 1884, the same year that his official account of the
excavations was published by the PEF. However, Warren had already published
more popular versions of his work in Jerusalem: in The Recovery of Jerusalem
(with Charles Wilson et al., 1871) and Underground Jerusalem (1876). And
these quickly had a profound impact on understandings of the city’s history
–including how David conquered it. So the Rev. W.F. Birch could suggest in 1878
that:
One word in the Hebrew (Tzinnor), followed by Captain Warren’s wonderful discovery of the secret passage leading from the Virgin’s Fount, has enabled us to understand a most obscure and baffling passage in the Old Testament, and to follow the very track by which the adventurous Joab gained access to the stronghold of Zion. (W.F. Birch, “Zion, The City of David,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly Statement, July 1878, p. 132)
Eventually, this interpretation became the predominant one of tsinnor
and David’s capture of Jerusalem. Many archaeologists and biblical scholars
repeated the identification with Warren’s Shaft.[3] English Bibles in the 20th and 21st centuries have largely reflected
this shift, as tsinnor now is typically translated “water shaft” (for
example, RSV, ISV, NIV, NRSV; also Everett Fox’s translation); the Lexham
English Bible (2011) even has “water supply”.[4]
From the very beginning, many biblicists and Semitic philologists – that
is, those who knew biblical Hebrew the best – warned against this
interpretation.[5] Some archaeologists, too, rejected it
for reasons relating to the physical remains. But these warnings had little
effect on the enthusiasm for this reconstruction of Joab’s daring entry.
Enter Yigal Shiloh, who conducted excavations in the City of David in
the 1970s and 1980s, and especially Ronny Reich and Eli Shukron, who worked
there the mid-1990s on.[6] Their findings, and those of geological studies around this time,
changed our understanding of the history of Warren’s Shaft. It now seemed
unlikely that the shaft had ever been used to draw water, and moreover it
seemed that the shaft was a natural one whose top was not uncovered by the
inhabitants of Jerusalem until the 8th century BCE. Biblical
Archaeology Review editor Hershel Shanks loudly proclaimed on the pages of
his magazine “I Climbed Warren’s Shaft (But Joab Never Did)”. And
archaeologists were left to find a new candidate for the tsinnor: in
2008, Eilat Mazar announced that she may have found the real tunnel, and her
claim was amplified by the Israel Ministry of Tourism and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
But as we have seen, the primary problem
with this interpretation of David’s conquest of the city is not the date of
Warren’s Shaft, but the meaning of the Hebrew. In fact, the meaning of the word
itself is not even the only problem with reading the passage in this way. The
verb of the clause, nagaʻ, has the basic meaning “to touch” – perhaps
“to reach” or even “to strike,” but certainly it does not suggest anything like
going up or climbing through a tunnel. In addition, the word order of the
sentence argues against the idea of a sneak attack. We have two activities,
striking the Jebusites and touching the tsinnor; if the tsinnor
were the means of entrance to the city, we would expect this to be the first
clause of the sentence – but it is the second, following the striking of the
Jebusites. When we consider all of these problems together – in a badly corrupt
passage, we must remember – we see there is no foundation to argue for a sneak
attack through any water shaft.
This example is remarkable, for we see clearly how an archaeological
discovery completely altered the understanding of a biblical passage. This
discovery drove subsequent interpretations, against all the evidence of
biblical Hebrew and of the texts of Samuel and Chronicles. But this direction
of the interpretive history has been largely forgotten by scholars today, who
often assume the reverse: that is, they suggest that the meaning of tsinnor
was always thought to be “water shaft,” and that the discovery of Warren’s
Shaft only provided a suitable candidate.[7]
But an even larger problem highlighted
by this example is how we are reading the Bible. Text scholars have
highlighted the literary structure and devices used in biblical narrative, techniques often resembling those we know from fiction writing.[8] Whatever historical background might lie behind a biblical passage,
then, that passage should certainly not be read as an attempt to give a
straightforward, factual narrative. Even scholars who have tried to historicize
the biblical David have found problems with reading this passage in Samuel and
Chronicles for history.[9] Meanwhile, it is notable that (to my knowledge) none of the adherents of
the identification of Warren’s Shaft as the tsinnor ever suggested that
the date of the shaft is not in itself a problem, since the 2 Samuel passage
could have been written later than the 10th century (so, after the
shaft came into use in the 8th century), with the author projecting it onto the
city’s past. Instead, the new information about the date of Warren’s Shaft led
to the conclusion THIS IS NOT THE SHAFT
THAT JOAB USED TO CONQUER THE CITY.[10] These scholars are reading Biblical
texts are flatly, armed with a narrow concept of historicity. The books of
Samuel and Chronicles are not evaluated as sources but harmonized together with
the archaeological evidence, despite the very different problems posed by each.
And this is not a scholarly way to read the Bible.
If there is a way forward in
understanding the tsinnor, it is not through finding a new tunnel, or
any other archaeological feature in Jerusalem. It is through careful study of
the context of the passage, linguistic study of words like tsinnor, consideration
of textual variants (e.g. from the Dead Sea Scrolls), and of early translations
(Greek, Latin, Aramaic, Syriac). It is not to find how David conquered
Jerusalem, but to think about what the authors of Samuel and Chronicles had in
mind in these passages, and what their earliest readers thought about them.
[10] This is at least implicit if not directly
stated in the work of Shiloh, Mazar, and many others. On the other hand, Reich
and Shukron (“The History of the Giḥon Spring in Jerusalem,” p. 216) conclude
that “The
question of the Ṣinnor is first and foremost a philological
and not an archaeological one,” a statement with which I completely agree.
[1]
Anecdote reported by Svend Holm-Nielsen, “Did Joab Climb ‘Warren’s Shaft’?” in History
and Traditions of Early Israel: Studies Presented to Eduard Nielsen (ed. A.
Lemaire and B. Otzen; Supplements to Vetus Testamentum 50; Leiden: Brill,
1993), p. 46.
[2]
For example, the Wycliffe Bible (the earliest complete Bible translation into
English, late 14th century), the Geneva Bible (1560), and the
Douay-Rheims Bible (1609).
[3]
Among many: Père Louis-Hugues Vincent, who help to popularize the
identification in his own Underground Jerusalem (London: H. Cox, 1911)
and later writings; Kathleen Kenyon (Digging Up Jerusalem [London and
Tonbridge: E. Benn, 1974]), who concluded that “Joab’s feat in climbing the
shaft must have been even greater than that of Warren in 1867, for he could
have expected an enemy round every corner; he therefore very fully earned his
reward of being made ‘chief and captain’”; J.P. Fokkelman, Narrative Art and
Poetry in the Books of Samuel. Vol. 3: Throne and City (II Sam. 2-8 &
21-24) (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1990), p. 161; Philip J. King, Jeremiah: An
Archaeological Companion (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1993), p. 66.
[4]
The Lexham English Bible rendering as “water supply” is an example of what
Robert Alter has called the “heresy of explanation” (The Five Books of
Moses: A Translation with Commentary [New York and London: W.W. Norton,
2004], pp. xvi-xlv). The word tsinnor clearly does not mean water supply;
instead this represents a translation of tsinnor as water shaft,
an identification of this particular shaft with Warren's Shaft, and an
interpretation of Warren's Shaft as part of the water supply of Jerusalem –
that is, three steps of interpretation. For Alter, substituting explanation for
translation means that we lose many of the literary characteristics of the
original. This case reveals an additional problem with the heresy of
explanation: sometimes those explanations are incorrect.
[5]
Archibald Sayce, a leading Assyriologist at Oxford in the late 19th
century, declared, “How the vertical shaft, up which the water was hauled in a
bucket, can be identical with the tsinnor, or ‘waterfall,” of 2 Samuel
v, 8, is more than I can understand.” (“Prae-exilic Jerusalem,” PEF
Quarterly Statement, July 1884, p. 175). See also, among others, the very
cautious comments of Samuel R. Driver, the prominent biblical scholar and
Hebrew linguist, in Notes on the Hebrew Text of the Books of Samuel
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1890), pp. 199-200. Meanwhile, an alternative
interpretation can be traced back at least as far as Julius Wellhausen, who
suggested that tsinnor, “tube,” was a vernacular term for different body
parts (Der Text der Bucher Samuelis [Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht,
1871], p. 164. He himself suggested Gurgel, “throat,” here, an
interpretation followed by Buber and Rosenzweig and by P.K. McCarter in their
translations. W.F. Albright (“The Ṣinnôr in the Story of David’s Capture of
Jerusalem,” Journal of the Palestine Oriental Society 2 [1922]:
286-290.) favored “joint,” while the German biblical scholar Gustaf Dalman
suggested “penis” (“Zion, die Burg Jerusalems,” Palästinajahrbuch 1915,
p. 43).
[6]
For Shiloh’s work, see for example the posthumously published “Jerusalem: the
Water Supply System,” in The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations
in the Holy Land, vol. 2, ed. E. Stern (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration
Society and Carta; New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993), pp. 709-712. For
Reich and Shukron, see their popular publication “Light at the End of the
Tunnel: Warren’s Shaft Theory of David’s Conquest Shattered,” Biblical
Archaeology Review 25:1 (Jan/Feb 1999), pp. 22-33, 72; and the academic
article “The History of the Giḥon Spring in Jerusalem,” Levant 36
(2004): 211-223.
[7]
Again among many, see Robert Alter, Ancient Israel: The Former Prophets:
Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings: A Translation with Commentary (New York
and London: W.W. Norton, 2013), p. 452: “The most likely reference, then, is to
a daring route of surprise access into the city. A frequently proposed
candidate is Warren's Shaft . . .”; Terence Kleven, “Up the Waterspout: How
David’s General Joab Got Inside Jerusalem,” Biblical Archaeology Review
20:4 (July/Aug 1994), pp. 34-35; Jodi Magness, The Archaeology of the Holy
Land: From the Destruction of Solomon’s Temple to the Muslim Conquest
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), p. 37; Carol Meyers, “Kinship
and Kingship: The Early Monarchy,” in The Oxford History of the Biblical
World (ed. M.D. Coogan; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), p. 191.
[8]
This is true of scholars with backgrounds in both comparative literature and
Hebrew Bible. For the former, consider seminal studies such as Menakhem Perry
and Meir Sternberg’s “The King through Ironic Eyes: Biblical Narrative and the
Literary Reading Process,” published in Hebrew in Hasifrut 1 (1968):
263-292, translated into English in Poetics Today 7 (1986): 275-322, or
Robert Alter’s The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books,
1981, reprinted 2011); for the latter, see Adele Berlin’s Poetics and
Interpretation of Biblical Narrative (Bible and Literature Series 9;
Sheffield: Almond, 1983), or the work of James Muilenburg or David Gunn. To the
extent that the theoretical assumptions behind these studies have been
rejected, they have been superseded in biblical studies by even more
complicated approaches to biblical texts, not more straightforward, literal
ones.
[9]
Steven L. McKenzie discusses the issue of the tsinnor in King David: A
Biography (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), pp. 133-134,
and notes many of the problems that I do here: the difficulty of “the lame and
the blind” (and their relationship to the tsinnor clause); the
relationship between Samuel and Chronicles (the smoothing out);and Chronicles’
addition of Joab as an etiological story (to explain how he became the
commander of the army). Other recent
studies by Baruch Halpern, Joel Baden, and Jacob Wright ignore this
passage altogether.
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