¹ Said, Edward W., Culture and Imperialism (New York: Random House, 1993) 3.Google Scholar

² Ibid., 74. Said offers numerous other examples.

³ On the Roman ruler cult, see the classic work of Syme, Ronald, The Roman Revolution (1939; reprinted Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992) esp. 472–74Google Scholar ; and the art-historical and sociocritical study of Zanker, Paul (The Power of Images in the Age of Augustus [Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1990])Google Scholar , who observes (335-36) that “… the imagery of the imperial mythology could, through symbolic adaptation, be employed to convey a range of civic virtues and values.” The same seems to be true of Assyria, where the king is by turns priest, conqueror, and reveller in luxury (Asshurbanipal in his pardes).

⁴ See Price, S. R. F., Rituals and Power: The Roman Imperial Cult in Asia Minor (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984) 248.Google Scholar

⁵ By “history” and “historiography,” I seek a working definition somewhere between Von Ranke's quest for wie es eigentlich gewesenist and the description of, say, Brettler, Marc Zvi, who writes of Deuteronomy, “to the extent that the Deuteronomist honestly believed his ideology, and like all of us, was simply viewing the past from the perspective of his present, he was writing history like all other historians” (The Creation of History in Ancient Israel [London: Routledge, 1995] 78CrossRefGoogle Scholar ). While it is certainly charitable of Brettler to place Deuteronomy in the company of modern historians, one has to wonder whether simply believing one's ideology qualifies one as a historian. Of course, historians ancient and modern have presuppositions and viewpoints that color their presentations, and sometimes these predispositions are so extensive and well-organized that they merit the name “ideology.” It still makes sense, however, to weigh an author's use of his/her sources against the final historiographic product. Worthwhile also is the correlation of various lines of evidence to reconstruct a plausible picture of the past that accounts for the available data. The kind of close, yet highly skeptical reading in which Brettler engages is no substitute for such a process. One must begin by believing the sources, unless compelling reasons to the contrary intervene (as they do, to be sure), and even then skepticism about skepticism is a strong tonic.

⁶ On ancient Near Eastern historiography, see the articles collected in Orientalia 1980; see alsoGoogle ScholarGrayson, A. K., Babylonian Historical-Literary Texts (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1975) esp. 5Google Scholar . In addition to chronicles, Grayson recognizes as Mesopotamian historiographic genres, prophecy, historical epic, and pseudo-autobiography. The texts under consideration in this article, however, fall into none of these categories.

⁷ Oppenheim, A. Leo, “Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian Empires,” in Lasswell, Harold D., Lerner, Daniel, and Speier, Hans, eds., Propaganda and Communication in World History, vol. 1: The Symbolic Instrument in Early Times (Honolulu: University Press of Hawaii, 1979) 111.Google Scholar

⁸ Fales, F. Mario, ed., Assyrian Royal Inscriptions: New Horizons (Rome: Istituto par l'Oriente, 1981).Google Scholar

⁹ Tadmor, Hayim, “History and Ideology in the Assyrian Royal Inscriptions,” in , Fales, Assyrian Royal Inscriptions, 13–33.Google Scholar

¹⁰ Ibid., 33. One might add to this that Assyrian monarchs at least from Asshur-nasirpal II commonly compared their feats to those of their predecessors, Tiglath-pileser 1(1114-1076 BCE) being a favorite model.

¹¹ Grayson, A. Kirk, “Assyrian Royal Inscriptions: Literary Characteristics,” in , Fales, Assyrian Royal Inscriptions, 35–47, esp. 46-47Google Scholar . Grayson does, however, acknowledge the inherent subjectivity involved in assigning labels such as “literature” or “history” to any work. A more interesting question, from my perspective, would be to ask what purposes the obviously elaborate and self-consciously artistic writing style of the inscriptions serves. At a minimum, the phrasing of the text is obviously intended to impress the audience (who heard it read?) with the majesty and sagacity of the king and his policy.

¹² See Russell, John Malcolm, Sennacherib's Palace without Rival at Nineveh (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991)Google Scholar . Russell notes that the reliefs in the palace reflect that monarch's twin goals of “the stabilizing of the borders and the creation of a center” (Ibid., 260). Bar, Jürgen (Der assyrische Tribut undseine Darstellung: Eine Untersuchung zur imperialen Ideologic im neuassyrischen Reich [AOAT 243; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1996])Google Scholar notes that a major component of the self-image of the Assyrian monarchs was of themselves as receivers of tribute from the newly mastered “four corners of the world.” More broadly, he notes that, “die assyrische ‘Staatskunst’ eines der wichtigsten Propagandainstrumente ideologischer Diffusion war” (Ibid., 244). See also Winter, Irene J., “Royal Rhetoric and the Development of Historical Narrative in Neo-Assyrian Relief,” Studies in Visual Communication 7 (1981) 2–38CrossRefGoogle Scholar ; and , eadem, “The Program of the Throneroom of Assurnasirpal II,” in Harper, Prudence O. and Pittman, Holly, eds., Essays on Near Eastern Archaeology in Honor of Charles Kyrle Wilkinson (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1983) 15–31Google Scholar.

¹³ As far as I could ascertain, all of the Neo-Assyrian rulers who campaigned abroad claimed in their inscriptions to have erected stelae in conquered territory as a way of displaying their prowess. Exceptions to this rule are Asshur-dan III (772-755 BCE) and Adad-narari V (754-745 BCE), who, however, presided over severe Assyrian decline. Their immediate predecessor Shalmaneser IV (782-772 BCE) erected a stele inside a temple (KB 102 11. 15-16=RIMA 0.105.2 15-16). The erection of statues and steles as a literary motif reaches its high-point under Shalmaneser III (858-824 BCE), whose inscriptions typically include the motif as part of the summary of each of the king's annual campaigns. On third- and early-second-millennium uses of the royal statue or stele, see Winter, Irene J., “Idols of the King: Royal Images as Recipients of Ritual Action in Ancient Mesopotamia,” Journal of Ritual Studies 6 (1992) 13–42Google Scholar.

¹⁴ See, for example, any of the letters in Parpola, Simo, Letters from Assyrian Scholars to the Kings Esarhaddon and Assurbanipal, Part I: Texts (AOAT 5/1; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1970)Google Scholar . Even letters on relatively straightforward matters often bear a highly literary stamp. A particularly good example is letter 212, 11. 6-7 (=ABL 1173): ki ša šame kaqqūru dārūni šumu ša šarru bēliya ina māt Aššur lū dara (“Just as heaven and earth endure, so may the name of the king my lord endure in the land of Assyria”).

¹⁵ See the summary in Oded, Bustenay, War, Peace and Empire: Justifications for War in Assyrian Royal Inscriptions (Wiesbaden: Reichert, 1992) 177–78Google Scholar . Oded assumes-can one be sure?-that the Assyrian policy of expansion enjoyed popular support at home. Yet it was clearly necessary to justify the incessant warfare by more than an appeal to simple greed. Oded lays out a dozen often overlapping reasons that the texts themselves offer for warfare, apologiai ranging from the need to obey the gods to the necessity of punishing treaty violations, to the demand to demonstrate the glory of the monarch and state. One reason to question the popularity of the incessant warfare, however, was the necessity of loyalty oaths imposed by the later Sargonids; see Watanabe, Kazuko, Die adê-Vereidigung anlässlich der Thronfolgeregelung Asarhaddons (Berlin: Mann, 1987)Google Scholar.

¹⁶ For a typological description of Neo-Assyrian depictions of the monarch, see Magen, Ursula, Assyrische Königsdarstellungen-Aspekte der Herrschaft (Baghdader Forschungen 9; Mainz: von Zabern, 1986)Google Scholar.

¹⁷ , Said, Culture and Imperialism, 100.Google Scholar

¹⁸ Compare for example, Mayer, W., “Sanherib und Babylonien: Der Staatsmann und Feldherr im Spiegel seiner Babylonienpolitik,” in Dietrich, Manfried and Loretz, Oswald, Vom Alien Orient zum Alten Testament (AOAT; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1995) 305–32Google Scholar ; Porter, Barbara Nevling, Images, Power, and Politics: Figurative Aspects of Esarhaddon's Babylonian Policy (Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1993)Google Scholar . Esarhaddon was deeply concerned with the Babylonian past, using it to bolster support for the Assyrian-dominated present. This policy, rooted in a realpolitisch desire to ameliorate the anxiety caused by his father's sack of the city, also had significant ideological and even religious overtones. For crucial information on patronage of temples, see George, A. R., Babylonian Topographical Texts (Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta; Leuven: Peeters, 1992)Google Scholar.

¹⁹ So, for example, conquered kings rarely bear patronymics in the inscriptions. On the other hand, Assyrian kings could be keenly interested in their own past. See for example the letter from one Urad-Nana to Esarhaddon or Asshurbanipal responding to the royal request for information about his predecessors who had “fallen ill” (ša šarrdni mahrūti ša imrassūni; see , Parpola, Letters from Assyrian Scholars, letter 247.9-10 (= ABL 584+ 1370).Google Scholar

²⁰ Zaccagnini, Carlo, “The Enemy in the Neo-Assyrian Royal Inscriptions: The ‘Ethnographic’ Description,” in Nissen, Hans-Jorg and Renger, Johannes, eds., Mesopotamien und seine Nachbarn (2 vols.; Berlin: Reimer, 1982) 2. 402–24.Google Scholar

²¹ Ibid., 417. F. Mario Fales examined the meaning of nakrutu (“enmity”) in the inscriptions, observing that much of the language about the crown's enemies was stereotyped and fit into a mythic pattern which formed a template for the specific tales of the various inscriptions (“The Enemy in Assyrian Royal Inscriptions: ‘The Moral Judgement,’” in , Nissen and , Renger, Mesopotamien und seine Nachbarn, 2. 425–35)Google Scholar . See also, Laato, Antti, “Assyrian Propaganda and the Falsification of History in the Royal Inscriptions of Sennacherib,” VT 45 (1995) 198–226Google Scholar . It is not clear to me that Laato is correct in assuming either that biblical scholars view Assyrian inscriptions uncritically, or that the highly pejorative label “falsification” is applicable to those texts. As Fales and Zaccagnini do, one may wish to speak less judgmentally of the shaping of history or some such. For my purposes, the point is that history-writing is an act of the intellect, which deserves exploration on its own terms, not merely in reference to the moral judgments or critical acumen of modern readers. At the same time, I do not propose that one take either the fact-claims or values of any of these texts uncritically.

²² RIMA 0. 102.1 In. 94.

²³ See Berlin, Orient-Comités zu, Ausgrabungen in Sendschirli, I (MOS 11; Berlin: Spemann, 1893)CrossRefGoogle Scholar ; Luschan, Felix von, Ausgrabungen in Sendschirli (MOS 14; Berlin: Reimer, 1911)Google Scholar ; and idem, Die Kleinfunde von Sendschirli (ed., W. Andrae; MOS 15; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1943).

²⁴ On the linguistic classification, see Greenfield, Jonas, “The Dialects of Early Aramaic,” JNES 37 (1978) 94Google Scholar ; and Tropper, Joseph, Die lnschriften von Zincirli: Neue Edition und vergleichende Grammatik des phonizischen, sam'alischen, und aramdischen Textkorpus (Abhandlungen zur Literatur Alt-Syrien-Palastinas 6; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 1993) 153–64. Tropper includes several texts absent from KAI and reclassifies KAI 25 as Sam'alianGoogle Scholar.

²⁵ 2R[awlinson] 53, 1 (= SAA 11.1), 1. 14 rev.

²⁶ Orthmann, Winfried, Untersuchungen zur späthethitischen Kunst (Saarbrücker Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 8; Bonn: Habelt, 1971) 66.Google Scholar

²⁷ On rosettes in ceremonial clothing (though not in bracelets), see Oppenheim, A. Leo, “The Golden Garments of the Gods,” JNES 8 (1949) 172–93Google Scholar . In addition, Kilamuwa's crown looks i n the photographs available to me to differ from the “Phrygian” cap seen elsewhere in Zenjirli (and on Esarhaddon's stele from there, a copy of which sits in Harvard's Semitic Museum) in being more like a fez with a nodule rising from the center. That is, it more closely resembles the Assyrian state crown, and particularly its unadorned form of the mid-ninth century (see Madhloom, T. A., The Chronology of Neo-Assyrian Art [London: Athlone, 1970] pl. 40)Google Scholar . Finally, Von Luschan also published a rosette-inscribed seal from , Zenjirli (Kleinfunde, pl. 37, fig. o)Google Scholar.

²⁸ On the form of the first person singular pronoun, compare KAI 181.1. (See also Poebel, Arno, Das apositionell bestimmte Pronomen der 1. pers. sing, in westsemitischen Inschriften und im Allen Testament [Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1932].) The final -i must have been anceps in Canaanite, and thus short in Moabite and the Phoenician dialect of Sam'al. But see,Google ScholarJackson, Kent P. and Dearman, J. Andrew, “The Text of the Mesha' Inscription,” in Dearman, J. Andrew, ed., Studies in the Mesha Inscription and Moab (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989) 100Google Scholar.

²⁹ Sperling, S. David, “KAI 24 Re-Examined,” UF 20 (1988) 325.Google Scholar

³⁰ O'Connor, Michael, “The Rhetoric of the Kilamuwa Inscription,” BASOR 226 (1977) 24.Google Scholar

³¹ It is perhaps incorrect to speak of convention, but the only other inscription listing four ancestors that I know of is the one from ca. 700 BCE recently uncovered at Ekron (see Gitin, Seymour, Dothan, Trude, and Nareh, Joseph, “A Royal Dedicatory Inscription from Ekron,” IEJ 47 [1997] 1–16)Google Scholar . One ancestor appears in KAI 13, 14, 181, 214, 216, 217, and 222B, as well as the text from Qebel IreS Dagi (see Mosca, Paul G. and Russell, James, “A Phoenician Inscription from Qebel IreS Dagi in Rough Cilicia,” Epigraphica Anatolica 9 [1987] 1–28Google Scholar , and Long, G. A. and Pardee, Dennis, “Who Exiled Whom? Another Interpretation of the Phoenician Inscription from Çebel Ireš Dagi,” Aula Orientalis 1 [1989] 207–14)Google Scholar ; two in KAI 10, 35, and 215; and none in KAI 26, 225, and 226 (the last two of which are probably not royal inscriptions, however). KAI 223 and 224 are too broken to tell.

³² Sam'al appears as bit Gabbdri in various Assyrian texts; see Parpola, Simo, Neo-Assyrian Toponyms (AOAT 6; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1970) ad locGoogle Scholar.

³³ Line 6-7a are notoriously difficult, referring apparently to a burning beard. See , Sperling, “KAI 24 Re-Examined,” 330Google Scholar . I regard the suggestion of Manfred Oeming, that zaqin refers to an “old man” and therefore to cannibalism, highly unlikely (“‘Ich habe einen Greis gegessen’: Kannibalismus und Autophagie als Topos der Kriegsnotschilderung in der Kilamuwa-Inschrift, Zeile 5-8, im Alten Orient und im Alten Testament,” BN Al [1989] 90–106Google Scholar . It is hard to imagine that the king, unlike the poor, would need to resort to cannibalism in war; nor does ritual cannibalism sound germane to these lines. The root in question here is surely X-Q-N, not Z-Q-N. Could it be an oblique reference to the Assyrian-style coiffure that Kilamuwa adopted in contrast to Neo-Assyrian models? (One thinks here of Peter the Great's policies requiring the boyars to adopt western-style hairdos.)

³⁴ On <-Y> as the third-person singular suffix in Phoenician, see Huehnergard, John, “The Development of the Third Person Suffixes in Phoenician,” MAARAV 7 (1991) 183–94Google Scholar.

³⁵ Dahood, Mitchell (“Proverbs 8:22-31,” CBQ 30 [1968] 512–21)Google Scholar translates the line “I was drunk before him, the king of Assyria.” While obviously grammatically possible, it is hard to know what this locution would mean.

³⁶ Also grammatically possible is that “the king of Assyria” is the implied subject of the verb, but it is hard to understand precisely what that would imply. That Assyria was selling slaves at a very low price? Even this reading could be covered with an impersonal subject (“one gives”).

³⁷ F. Mario Fales offers a schema differentiating between the time of the predecessors and that of the king (“Kilamuwa and the Foreign Kings: Propaganda vs. Power,” WO 10 [1979] 7)Google Scholar . I would nuance this by proposing a tripartite division that splits Kilamuwa's reign into two correlate parts separated by Assyrian intervention.

³⁸ The identity of this group and the B'RRM in 1. 14 is unclear. They may be tribal names of some sort, but there is no way to be sure. Alternatively, Cross and Freedman thought that they were speakers of Phoenician and Aramaic respectively, but this is also very uncertain (Cross, Frank Moore and Freedman, David Noel, Early Hebrew Orthography: A Study of the Epigraphic Evidence [New Haven: American Oriental Society, 1952] 63).Google Scholar

³⁹ Tropper, Joseph, “‘Sieknurrten wie Hunde’: Psalm 59, 16, Kilamuwa: 10 und die Semantik der Wurzel lun,” ZAW 106 (1994) 87–95Google Scholar . But see , Sperling, “KAI 24 Re-Examined,” 334Google Scholar . For the reading yitalvkūn (Gt imperfect), see the photograph in , Tropper, “‘Sie knurrten’”, 93Google Scholar.

⁴⁰ Although Sam'alian prosperity was apparently at the expense of its neighbors. I assume that one could not have invented a claim to prosperity out of thin air, Sam'al not being Hoxha's Albania or Kim's North Korea.

⁴¹ KAI 24.5-6.

⁴² Machinist, Peter, “Assyrians on Assyria in the First Millennium B.C.,” in Raaflaub, Kurt and Müller-Luckner, Elisabeth, eds., Anfänge politischen Denkens in derAntike: Die nahöstlichen Kulturen und die Griechen (Schriften des Historischen Kollegs 24; Munich: Oldenbourg, 1993) 85.Google Scholar

⁴³ , Orthmann, Untersuchungen, 61, 75–76.Google Scholar

⁴⁴ The coiffure resembles that of a North Syrian tribute-bearer carved in the palace of Sargon II at Khorsabad (see Curtis, J. E. and Reade, J. E., eds., Art and Empire: Treasuresfrom Assyria in the British Museum [New York: Metropolitan Museum, 1995] 65, fig. 15)Google Scholar.

⁴⁵ Annal 13,1. 12 in Tadmor, Hayim, The Inscriptions of Tiglath-pileser III King ofAssyria: Critical Edition, with Introductions, Translations and Commentary (Jerusalem: Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1994)Google Scholar . All subsequent references to texts of Tiglath-pileser III are from this edition.

⁴⁶ KAI 214.9. This is generally reminiscent of the claim of Samas-resa-usur of Suhu to have introduced fig trees and honey bees to his land (RIMB S 0.1001.1, col. 4, 1. 13-col. 5, 1. 6). One convention of the inscriptions outside the Mesopotamian centers seems to have been the claim to have worked for agricultural prosperity. This is, of course, less grandiose than military feats or cutting cedars of Lebanon, but interesting withal.

⁴⁷ See the discussion in Toorn, Karel van der, Family Religion in Babylonia, Syria and Israel: Continuity and Change in the Forms of Religious Life (SHCANE 7; Leiden: Brill, 1996) 164–68.Google Scholar

⁴⁸ Sachau, Eduard, “Die Inschriften Königs Panammu von Sam'al,” in Orient-Comités, Ausgrabungen, 55.Google Scholar

⁴⁹ See note 45, above.

⁵⁰ See Galil, Gershon, The Chronology of the Kings of Israel and Judah (Studies in the History and Culture of the Ancient Near East 9; Leiden: Brill, 1996) 67.Google Scholar

⁵¹ The commodity names are obvious enough, but the last clause is difficult. For this translation, see Donner, Herbert and Rollig, W., Kanaanaische und aramaische Inschriften, vol. 2: Kommentar (Wiesbaden: Harassowitz, 1968) 226Google Scholar . On the rise and fall in prices during wartime, see 2 Kgs 7:1; and the tradition about Shalmaneser V's siege of Tyre preserved in , JosephusAnt. 9.287Google Scholar (ἐπετάθη δὴ πάτων ἐν Τύρῳ τιμὴ διὰ ταύτα [“Consequently, the price of everything rose in Tyre”]).

⁵² On this last phrase, compare KAI 24.12.

⁵³ The plural of 'aḥ has a mediate Y in Sam'alian, a form for which a satisfactory explanation is difficult.

⁵⁴ The title “great king” is a common self-designation of the Neo-Assyrian kings, but in the second millennium it denoted emperors. In neither case does the title refer to vassals. The use of the plural here is difficult to explain.

³⁵ See , Magen, Assyrische Königsdarstellungen, pls.Google Scholar

⁵⁶ This is the equivalent of the Akkadian šar kibrāt erbetti. Note the distinction between malk (for kinglets) and mari' for the Assyrian king. The spelling with Q for -ṩ indicates non-merger with -ṣ.

⁵⁷ Summary Inscription 4, 1. 11 rev.

⁵⁸ I am not trying to contravene the demonstration against Assyrian proselytization of Cogan, Mordechai, Imperialism and Religion: Assyria, Judah, and Israel in the Eighth and Seventh Centuries B.C.E. (Missoula: Scholars Press, 1974)Google Scholar ; idem, “Judah under Assyria n Hegemony: A ReExamination of Imperialism and Religion,” JBL 112 (1993) 403-14. This is simply a nuancing. For a more expansive view of the role of religion in Assyrian governance of conquered lands, see also Spieckermann, Hermann, Juda unter Assur in der Sargonidenzeit (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1982) 307–69CrossRefGoogle Scholar ; and Holloway, Steven K., “Harran: Cultic Geography in the Neo-Assyrian Empire and Its Implications for Sennacherib's ‘Letter to Hezekiah’ in 2 Kings,” in Holloway, Steven W. and Handy, Lowell K., eds., The Pitcher Is Broken: Memorial Essays for Gosta W. Ahlstrom (JSOTSS 190; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1995) 276–314Google Scholar .

⁵⁹ Note that Tiglath-pileser did not build a temple, so he expected his stele to play a comparatively minor role.

⁶⁰ KAI 216.7-8.

⁶¹ KAI 216.8-9; compare 215.18; Isa 5:28.

⁶² His near contemporary (mid-eighth century) Ninurta-kudurri-asur of Suhu on the middle Euphrates listed palace-building as one of his major accomplishments (RIMB S.0.1002.3 iv 9-15 and parallels).

⁶³ Wette, Wilhelm M. L. De, “Dissertatio critico-exegetica qua Deuteronomium a prioribus Pentateuchi Libris diversum” (Jena: Etzdorf, 1805) 13–14.Google Scholar

⁶⁴ For the older view, see Eissfeldt, Otto (The Old Testament: An Introduction [New York: Harper and Row, 1965] 220–33)Google Scholar , who concedes that Deuteronomy may predate , Josiah by “five to ten decades” (233)Google Scholar , even if the book became important only in that king's reign. For more recent developments, see the surveys in Weinfeld, Moshe, “Deuteronomy: The Present State of the Inquiry,” JBL 86 (1967) 249–62Google Scholar ; Knight, Douglas A., “The Pentateuch,” in Knight, Douglas A. and Tucker, Gene M., eds., The Hebrew Bible and Its Modern Interpreters (Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1985) 283–85Google Scholar ; and Christensen, Duane L., “Deuteronomy in Modern Research: Approaches and Issues,” in idem., ed., A Song of Power and the Power of Song: Essays on the Book of Deuteronomy (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1993) 3–17Google Scholar.

⁶⁵ Compare Gen 15:18-21; Exod 3:8, 17; 13:5, 23:23, 33:2, 34:11; and Num 13:29. On the complex literary history of Exod 33, see Noth, Martin, A History of Pentateuchal Traditions (trans. Anderson, Bernhard W.; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1981) 144–45Google Scholar . See Childs, Brevard (Exodus, A Commentary [OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1974] 584–86) on Exod 33Google Scholar . Childs assigns Exod 13:5 (p. 184), and probably 34:11 (p. 608) to his Deuteronomic redactor, and sees evidence of a complex literary history in each of the other versions of this list of the conquered nations. Even if correct, this still does not change my basic point, viz., that Deuteronomy does not name enemies originating outside of Palestine (although Deuteronomy 20 is concerned with warfare against non-Palestinian powers only, as verse 16 makes explicit). In addition, Deuteronomy knows the tradition that the autochthonous population of Palestine were giants; see Perlitt, Lothar, “Riesen im Alten Testament: Ein literarisches Motiv im Wirkungsfeld des Deuteronomismus,”Google Scholar in idem, Deuteronomium-Studien (Forschungen zum Alten Testament 8; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1994) 205-46. Perlitt's caution against speculating on the pre-Deuteronomic form of the giant tales is laudable (245-46), but of more interest to me is the role of this legendary material in Deuteronomy's historiography, which emphasizes not the fabulous origins of Palestinian cities but their occupation by the Israelites. The giants serve to explain the cities' splendor, a theme that in turn is part of Deuteronomy's unstinting praise of the land.

⁶⁶ Moran, Notably William, “The Ancient Near Eastern Background of the Love of God in Deuteronomy,” CBQ 25 (1963) 77–87.Google Scholar For Hebrew caiques of Akkadian phrases, see Weinfeld, Moshe, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School (Oxford: Clarendon, 1972) esp. 332–33Google Scholar (lilmôd I^eyira' 'el YHWH [“to learn to fear Yahweh“] in Deut. 4:10; 5:26; 6:2, 13, 24; 8:6; 10:12, 20; 13:5; 14:23; 17:19; 28:58; 31:12, 13 equals , Akkadianša palāh ili litmudū. On the treaty backgrounds of the book, seeGoogle ScholarMendenhall, G. E., The Tenth Generation (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1973)Google Scholar ; and more circumspectly, Weinfeld, Moshe, Deuteronomy 1-11 (AB 5; New York: Doubleday, 1991) esp. 6–9Google Scholar ; also, idem, “The Emergence of the Deuteronomic Movement: The Historical Antecedents,” in Lohfink, Norbert, ed., Das Deuteronomium: Entstehung, Gestalt und Botschaft (Leuven: University Press, 1985) 76–98Google Scholar.

⁶⁷ For example, Steymans, Hans Ulrich (Deuteronomium 28 unddie adê zur Thronfolgeregelung Asarhaddons: Segen und Fluch im Alten Orient und in Israel [OBO 145; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1995])Google Scholar has argued persuasively that Deut 28:20-44 is a direct reflection of Esarhaddon's vassal treaty guaranteeing the succession of his son Asshurbanipal II. For the text of the treaty, see Wiseman, D. J., The Vassal Treaties of Esarhaddon (London: British School in Iraq, 1958)Google Scholar.

⁶⁸ Calum Carmichael argued in a series of books and articles that the sequence of laws in Deuteronomy actually followed events in the Deuteronomistic history. For a listing of Carmichael's relevant works and a devastating critique thereof, see Levinson, Bernard M., “Calum M. Carmichael's Approach to the Laws of Deuteronomy,” HTR 83 (1990) 227–57 esp. 227 n. 1.CrossRefGoogle Scholar

⁶⁹ , Weinfeld, Deuteronomy 1-11, 13–14.Google Scholar

⁷⁰ On the question of the status of the “patriarchal period” in Deuteronomy, see Römer, Thomas, Israels Väter: Untersuchungen zur Väterthematik im Deuteronomium und in der deuteronomistischen Tradition (OBO 99; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1990)Google Scholar ; and the critique of his position in Lohfink, Norbert, Die Vdter Israels im Deuteronomium (OBO 111; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1991). “See, for example, Deut 4:32-40, which makes this explicitGoogle Scholar.

⁷² A similar phrase using the C (y^ebî'aka, m^ebî'aka) rather than the G and with “Yahweh your God” as the subject occurs in Deut 7:1 and 8:7. Compare also Deut 11:10-11. Deut 9:7 describes Israel as coming to “this place” ('ad hammaqôm hazze), but as Don C. Benjamin has argued, the texts referring to “place” differ in origin and orientation from those referring to the “land” (Deuteronomy and City Life [Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1983] 16–17Google Scholar ). A problem for this hypothesis is the conjunction of the terms in Deut 27:1-3, but the solution to this conundrum lies beyond the scope of this paper. On the location of the “place,” see Weinfeld, Moshe, “Emergence of the Deuteronomic Movement,” 76–83. “Compare Deut 7:1; 8:7-10, 14; 11:10-17;12:1, 10; 15:4,7, 11; 17:14; 18:9; 19:2, 10, 14; 23:21; 25:19; 26:1; 26:2-3,9, 15; 27:2-3; 28:8, 10, 12, 25, 52. The curses in Deut 29 are “against the land” and consist of reversals of the blessings. Note, too, that the book uses 'eres almost invariably either for the land of Israel or Egypt. The first is the place of blessing, the second of slavery. Noteworthy, then is Deut 11:10-12, which contrasts flat, rainless Egypt with mountainous, rain-soaked (!) Palestine. The point of the comparison is that Yahweh's rain falls on Israel, but not on Egypt (though one might wish for the steady water source of the Nile!)Google Scholar.

⁷⁴ See , Weinfeld, Deuteronomy 1-11, 373.Google Scholar

⁷⁵ On this text, see the famous proposal of Rad, Gerhard von, who argued that here was a very ancient confession about the origins of Israel (Das formgeschichtliche Problem des Hexateuch [BWANT 26; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1938] esp. 36-43Google Scholar; idem, Deuteronomy [OTL; London: SCM, 1966] 156-62). For the critiques of this position, which scholars have now largely abandoned, see Childs, Brevard, “Deuteronomic Formulae of the Exodus Traditions,” in Hartmann, Benedikt, et al., eds., Hebrdische Wortforschung (VTSup 16; Leiden: Brill, 1967) 30–39Google Scholar ; and Richter, Wolfgang, “Beobachtungen zur theologischen Systembildung in der alttestamentlichen Literatur anhand des ‘kleinen geschichtlichen Credo,’” in Scheffczyk, L., ed., Wahrheit und Verlkündigung (Munich: Schöningh, 1967) 175–212Google Scholar.

⁷⁶ On the so-called altar on Mt. Ebal, see Zertal, Adam, “Has Joshua's Altar Been Found on Mt. Ebal?” BAR 11/1 (1985) 26–43Google Scholar ; idem, “How Can Kempinski Be So Wrong!” BAR 12/1 (1986) 43, 49-53; idem, “An Early Iron Age Cultic Site on Mount Ebal: Excavation Seasons 1982-1987,” Tel Aviv 13-14 (1986-1987) 105-65; and the devastating critique of Kempinski, Aharon, “Joshua's Altar-An Iron Age I Watchtower,” BAR 12 (1986) 42, 44–49Google Scholar.

⁷⁷ See, for example, Gottwald, Norman K., The Tribes of Yahweh (London: Orbis, 1980)Google Scholar ; Lemche, Niels Peter, Early Israel: Anthropological and Historical Studies on the Israelite Society before the Monarchy (VTSup 37; Leiden: Brill, 1985)CrossRefGoogle Scholar ; and Finkelstein, Israel, The Archaeology of the Israelite Settlement (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1988)Google Scholar.

⁷⁸ Note in this connection Deut 7:22, w^enāšal YHWH 'elôhêka' et-haggoyim hā'elmippaneykā m'atm^e'al (”so Yahweh your God will drive out the nations before you, little by little“). This gradual conquest is precisely the picture of the book of Judges. Moreover, the explanation of the slow conquest is reminiscent in general terms of 2 Kgs 17:24-28. Growth in the population of animal life was the natural, and well-known, result of massive depopulation.

⁷⁹ For a thorough summary of the evidence, see the article of Machinist, Peter, “Assyria and Its Image in the First Isaiah,” JAOS 103 (1983) 719–37, esp. 719-22.Google Scholar

⁸⁰ Compare Deut 20.

⁸¹ Note in this connection that the law of war in chapter 20 does not envision the king at the head of the army.

⁸² Norbert Lohfink, “Die Sicherung der Wirksamkeit des Gotteswortes durch das Prinzip der Schriftlichkeit der Tora und durch das Prinzip der Gewaltenteilung nach den Ämtergesetzen des Buches Deuteronomium (Dt 16,18-18,22),” in idem, Studien zum Deuteronomium undzur deuteronomistischen Literatur 1 (Stuttgarter Biblische Aufsatzbände 8; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1990) 305-23, esp. 311-13; Georg Braulik, “Deuteronomy and the Commemorative Culture of Israel,” in idem, The Theology of Deuteronomy: Collected Essays of Georg Braulik, O. S. B. (Berkeley: BIBAL, 1994) 194; Schäfer-Lichtenberger, Christa, Joshua und Salomo: Eine Studie zu Autorität und Legitimität des Nachfolgers im Alten Testament (VTSup, 58; Leiden: Brill, 1995) 52–106.Google Scholar

⁸³ Rüterswörden, Udo, Von der politischen Gemeinschaft zur Gemeinde: Studien zu Dt 16,18-18,22 (BBB 65; Frankfurt: Athenaum, 1987) 52–66Google Scholar . He tends to see a late redaction in verses 17-20, going so far to argue that they no longer view the priests as primarily cultic functionaries, but as “executives of the Torah” (110). I would question this bifurcation on principle and limit the late redactional layer to the term “Levite” and perhaps some of the redundancies in verses 17-20, at most. See also Seitz, Gottfried, Redaktionsgeschichtliche Studien zum Deuteronomium (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1971) 231–35Google Scholar . For a summary of prior research, see , Schafer-Lichtenberger, Josua und Salomo, 72–74Google Scholar.

⁸⁴ See Braulik, Georg, “Zur Abfolge der Gesetze in Deuteronomium 16,18-21, 23: Weitere Beobachtungen,” Bib 69 (1988) 63–92Google Scholar . Evidence that Deuteronomy has in mind specifically war with Assyria comes from Deut 20:19-20, the law against cutting down the fruit trees of the enemy. This scorched earth method was practiced, for example, by Shalmaneser III and Asshur-nasirpal II (RIMA 0.101.1, col. 3, 1. 109; compare Balawat Gates, Band 9, where Assyrians destroy fruit trees around Carcemish [in King, L. W., Bronze Reliefs from the Gates of Shalmaneser King of Assyria B.C. 860-825 (London: British Museum, 1915)]Google Scholar ) and Tiglath-pileser III (Summary Inscription 7,11. 24-25; and Annal 23,11. 11-12 rev.). See also Isa 10:19.

⁸⁵ See, for example, Deut 18:9, which denotes these practices as tô'abôt haggōyim. The expression tô'abôt YHWH 'elôhêka in 17:1 refers to the offering of blemished animals and apparently designates a lesser degree of sacrilege, yet even here the text insists that such an infraction can lead to idolatry. The literature on necromancy and human sacrifice in the ANE is enormous. There is every reason to believe that Deut 18 has in mind something resembling the Punic mulk 'ummor offering, which in turn can be dissociated from human sacrifice only by the most egregiously apologetic arguments. More broadly, see: Loretz, Oswald, Leberschau, Sundenbock, Asasel in Ugarit und Israel (Altenberge: CIS, 1985)Google Scholar ; Cogan, Mordechai, “Omens and Ideology in the Babylonian Inscription of Esarhaddon,” in Tadmor, Hayim and Weinfeld, Moshe, History, Historiography, and Interpretation (Leiden: Brill, 1984) 108–19Google Scholar ; Hoffner, Harry, “Second Millennium Antecedents to the Hebrew 'ob,” JBL 86 (1967) 384–40Google Scholar ; Schmidtke, F., “Träume, Orakel und Totengeister als Künder der Zukunft in Israel und Babylonien,” BZ 11 (1967) 240–46Google Scholar ; Stager, Lawrence and Wolff, Samuel R., “Child Sacrifice at Carthage-Religious Rite or Population Control?” BAR 10 (1984) 31–51Google Scholar ; Brown, Shelby, Late Carthaginian Child Sacrifice and Sacrificial Monuments in their Mediterranean Context (JSOT/ASOR Mono graph Series 3; Sheffield: JSOT, 1991)Google Scholar . Compare, however, Moscati, Sabatino, Il sacrificio del bambini: un aggiornamento (Rome: Lincei, 1991)Google Scholar.

⁸⁶ Much research has centered around the relationship of this text to the dialectical presentation of the origins of kingship in 1 Samuel 8-11. 1 Samuel, as is well known, presents a series of aetiologies of kingship and recognizes the existence of resistance to the monarchy per se. Particularly important is 1 Sam 8:10-22, which resembles Deut 17:14-20 in that both assume the potential for abuse inherent in monarchy. Both recognize that kings amass wealth, build armies, and collect wives. One must admit, to be sure, that the expressions bahar (“choose”), sûm/sîm (“to install”), and k^ekōl-haggōyīm (“like all the nations”) feature in both texts. The offhanded manner of Deut 17:14b seems to assume the audience's knowledge about the selection of the monarch, which might imply that 1 Samuel 8-11 or some part of it lies in the background of Deuteronomy. Moreover, I think McCarter, P. Kyle (1 Samuel [AB 8; Garden City: Doubleday, 1980] 157Google Scholar ) is correct to observe that in 1 Samuel 8, only verse 8 is obviously Deuteronomistic. This tends to lend credence to the argument that Deuteronomy 17 depends on 1 Samuel 8. I would argue, however, that assuming a unidirectional dependence of one text on the other obscures the real differences between them.

⁸⁷ Alt, Albrecht, “Das Konigtum in den Reichen Israel und Juda,” VT 1 (1951) 3–22Google Scholar (reprinted in idem, Kleine Schriften zur Geschichte des Volkes Israel [2 vols.; Munich: Beck, 1953] 116-34. See the critique in Mayes, Andrew D. H., Deuteronomy (NCB; London: Oliphants, 1979) 268–69Google Scholar.

⁸⁸ See Pss 2; 110; and Roberts, J. J. M., “The Davidic Origin of the Zion Tradition,” JBL 92 (1973) 329–44Google Scholar ; idem, “Yahweh's Foundation in Zion (Isa 28:16),” JBL 106 (1987) 27-45.

⁸⁹ KAI 24, 214, 215. The failure to mention popular support is not surprising, given these texts' overall rhetorical agendas.

⁹⁰ KAI 222 B 5, 11.

⁹¹ For example, in the British ceremony, the new monarch is chosen “by the grace of God,” and at one point the people are asked whether they accept him or her as ruler. Since the dynastic principle operates, the people's choice is a foregone conclusion. Yet one should not, I think, understand this query as a fiction; rather it is what Austin, J. L. (How to Do Things with Words [ed. Urmson, J. O. and Sbisa, Marina; 2d ed.; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1975]) called a “performative utterance.” That is, it makes something happen; it makes the monarch the monarch. Similar juxtapositions of supposedly alternative logics of kingship appear in the Islamic world; seeCrossRefGoogle ScholarLindholm, Charles, The Islamic Middle East: An Historical Anthropology (Oxford: Blackwell, 1996) esp. 84–104Google Scholar.

⁹² See Wiseman, D. J., Vassal Treaties of Esarhaddon.Google Scholar

⁹³ There is no reason to assume that these verses relate exclusively to the Davidic dynasty, as does Albertz, Rainer, for example (A History of Israelite Religion in the Old Testament Period, vol. 1: From the Beginnings to the End ofthe Monarchy [OTL; Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1994] 224).Google Scholar

⁹⁴ See , Driver (Deuteronomy, 210)Google Scholar , who dismisses the suggestion on other grounds.

⁹⁵ Summary Inscription 1, 11. 17-19.

⁹⁶ Annal 19, 11. 9-10.

⁹⁷ Annal 9, 1. 8.

⁹⁸ Or apparently a foreign nobleman; see the “Black Obelisk” (BM 118885 = RIMA 0.102.14), 11. 95-96.

⁹⁹ See Tiglath-pileser's Summary Inscription 9, 11. 28-29.

¹⁰⁰ The script is archaic, most closely resembling a late-eleventh or early-tenth-century script, but is probably “a remarkable example of archaizing” (Cross, Frank Moore, “Paleography and the Date of the Tell Fahariyeh Bilingual Inscription,” in Zevit, Ziony, Gitin, Seymour, and Sokoloff, Michael, eds., Solving Riddles and Untying Knots: Biblical, Epigraphic, and Semitic Studies Honor of Jonas C. Greenfield [Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1995] 393–409Google Scholar , esp. 408).

¹⁰¹ Line 8 in each text. In Abou-Assaf, Ali, Bordreuil, Pierre, and Millard, Alan R., La statue de Tell Fekherye et son inscription bilingue assyro-arameene (Etudes Assyriologiques 7; Paris: ERC, 1982)Google Scholar . On the dating, see Ibid., 10-12; the coiffure is recognizably similar to that of Asshur-nasirpal II, both having rounded hair on the back of the neck, rather than straight hair, as is characteristic of later Sargonid art. The title GAR.KUR also applies to the prefect of the province of the city of Assur; see ADD 952, r. 2 (= SAA 11.80 r. 2). Cross (“Paleography and the Date,” 409) has noted that the title Sakin (equals Akkadian Saknu) as the equivalent of malk was common in the Levant; see KAI 1.2. In KAI 31.1-2, from the late eighth century, the title designates a vassal of Sidon who is not called a malk. In KAI 203, Sakin is the title of the majordomo, not a monarch. None of these texts use the West Semitic reflex Sakin mati, Sakin 'ars or some such. Accordingly, I would argue that the more apt parallels to Tell Fekherye are Neo-Assyrian, not traditional Levantine. On the title, see Postgate, J. N., “The Place of Saknu in Assyrian Government,” Anatolian Studies 30 (1980) 67–76CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

¹⁰² See Judg 19:12; 2 Sam 15:19; 1 Kgs 8:41, 43; 11:1, 8.

¹⁰³ Zeph 1:8: ûgaqadti 'al … kol hallōbsimmalbûš nokrî (“and I will punish … all those wearing the garment of the foreigner”). Commentators have generally concentrated either on the expense of a foreign garment or its alleged connection to foreign cults, or both. See Roberts, J. J. M., Nahum, Habakkuk, and Zephaniah (OTL; Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1991) 178–79Google Scholar ; Kessler, Rainer, Staat und Gesellschaft im vorexilischen Judah: vom 8. Jahrhundert bis zum Exit (VTSup 47; Leiden: Brill, 1992) 62–63CrossRefGoogle Scholar ; Berlin, Adele, Zephaniah (AB 25A; New York: Doubleday, 1994) 79Google Scholar . I am skeptical of both suggestions; there is no reason to think that only foreign clothes could be expensive, nor is there convincing evidence that specifically foreign clothes featured in “illicit” Israelite cults (contra Roberts). Ehud ben Zvi seems on the right track when he suggests that the prohibition means that the elite, Judahite “had a normative cultural point of reference, at least on clothes, outside of Judah” (A Historical-Critical Study of the Book of Zephaniah [BZAW 198; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1991] 279)Google Scholar . There is another possible explanation. Evidence exists that the Assyrian government awarded leaders (specifically embassages) of conquered peoples with various gifts, including gold rings (ADD 1110 = SAA 7.58) and clothes (ADD 758; I owe this reference to Postgate, J. N., Taxation and Conscription in the Assyrian Empire [Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1974] 127–28)Google Scholar . This might explain Zephaniah's hostility to the “foreign clothes” as a metonymy for Judah's subservience. His would then be a working-out of the irredentism of Deut 17:14.

¹⁰⁴ , Dietrich, “Histoire et Loi,” 322Google Scholar . The moralizing reading of this text by , Driver (Deuteronomy, 211–12)Google Scholar seems inappropriate.

¹⁰⁵ Nielsen, Eduard (Deuteronomium [HAT 1/6; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1995] 185)Google Scholar understands the saying to refer to Manasseh's sending his army to aid the Egyptians. This seems possible, but hardly verifiable. Possibly relevant would be the presence of Israelite units in the Assyrian army, units apparently drafted en masse from the defeated Israelite army (see Dalley, Stephanie, “Foreign Chariotry and Cavalry in the Armies of Tiglath-pileser III and Sargon II,” Iraq 47 [1985] 31–48CrossRefGoogle Scholar ; Malbran-Labat, Florence, L'armée et I'organisation militaire de I'Assyrie d'après les lettres des Sargonides trouvées à Ninive [Geneva: Droz, 1982] 89–101Google Scholar ). Supplying troops was a service that vassals provided, so if Deuteronomy 17 is forbidding sending Israelite troops to Egypt, it is rejecting that state as a potential overlord.

¹⁰⁶ See 1 Kgs 11:1,8.

¹⁰⁷ Dietrich, Walter, “Histoire et Loi,” 318.Google Scholar

¹⁰⁸ This difference would not justify excising Deut 17:17b as secondary, as does Merendino, Rosario, Das deuteronomische Gesetz: Eine literarkritische, gattungs- und iiberlieferungs geschichtliche Untersuchung zu Dt 12-26 (BBB 31; Bonn: Hanstein, 1969) 185.Google Scholar

¹⁰⁹ I am not asserting, of course, that the kingdom of Juda h did not exist before the late eighth century; the Dan stele should put that notion to res t once and for all.

¹¹⁰ The scope of “this law” is unclear. Commentators such as , Driver (Deuteronomy, 212Google Scholar ), Rad, Von (Deuteronomy, 120Google Scholar ), and , Nielsen (Deuteronomium, 185Google Scholar ) take this to refer to the entire book of Deuteronomy. This seems unlikely, especially if one takes literally the injunction for the king to copy out the entire piece. Tigay, Jeffrey (Deuteronomy [JPS Torah Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1996] 168Google Scholar ) is probably nearer the truth in understanding the king's text as “certain parts of Deuteronomy, including the laws of chapters 12-16.“

¹¹¹ Norbert Lohfink, “Distribution of the Functions of Power: The Laws Concerning Public Offices in Deuteronomy 16:18-18:22,” in idem, Great Themesfrom the Old Testament (trans., Ronald Walls; Chicago: Franciscan Herald, 1981) 67-68. See notes 83-84 above.

¹¹² For a full discussion, see Milgrom, Jacob, Leviticus 1-16 (AB 3; New York: Doubleday, 1991) 52–54.Google Scholar

¹¹³ , Winter, “Program of the Throne room,” 21.Google Scholar

¹¹⁴ On this point, note that Shalmaneser III concluded a campaign in Trans-Euphrates by making an offering “making manifest the heroism of Asshur and the god Shamash for posterity” (adlul narbūt ilāni rabûti ša Aššur u Šamaš qurdišūnu ušapa) and then erecting a statue commemorating “my heroic deeds and victories” (qurdiya epšit tašnintiya) (BM 118884, col. 1, 11. 49-50 = RIMA 0.102.2, col. 1, 11. 49-51). The erection of the stele i s a pious act, but it also serv es to glorify the king. By contrast, Deuteronomy's prescription on visual media seeks to humble the king. (Note also that according to Deut 34:6 Moses receives no grave marker, that is, no graphic representation recalling his existence.)

¹¹⁵ , Said, Imperialism and Culture, 162–63.Google Scholar

¹¹⁶ Kiernan, Victor George, Imperialism and Its Contradictions (New York: Routledge, 1995).Google Scholar