Showing posts with label Abraham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Abraham. Show all posts

Monday, 5 March 2018

Abraham holds the key

In this essay, I argue that no other Biblical personage is as important as Abraham when considering the trustworthiness of early Biblical tradition. Abraham stands at the transition between the "ancient history" and the subsequent patriarchal traditions given in the Book of Genesis. As such, both of these traditions are anchored on the historicity of his person. So, the primary question is: Can the Abrahamic tradition be trusted? I provide three levels of arguments why we have good reasons to do exactly that, which centre on 1) the many EARLY Sumerian motifs in the "ancient history" included in Genesis 1-11, 2) the remarkable ACCURACY of the historical information in the story of Abraham and 3) the nature of the Abrahamic tradition which strongly suggests that it had been written down during his own lifetime. This is the final essay in the series on the Book of Genesis.

Our study of the Book of Genesis now brings us to the person of Abraham. Abraham's story is told in Genesis 11:10-25:10. He is the central personage in the Book of Genesis and God's covenant with him prefigures the Mosaic covenant in the Book of Exodus (and even the New Covenant according to Christian thinking). Except for Israel (Jacob) who gave his name to the people of Israel, Abraham is depicted in Hebrew tradition as their most important forefather. 

What makes Abraham especially important for our present discussion, is the fact that he is presented as the figure who stands between the "ancient history" told in Genesis 1-11 and the patriarchal traditions of Genesis 12-50. Whereas the "ancient history" is located in the land of Sumer (as well as regions to the north thereof), Abraham is the one who is said to have migrated from Sumer, the land of his forefathers, to Canaan, the land of promise, where his descendants established themselves. As such, it is quite natural to think that he brought those ancient traditions with him when he migrated westwards. This is the basis for the Sumerian Hypothesis presented in this series of essays.

Although this seems to be a logical conclusion, this is not how some fundamentalist Christians (influenced by the Seventh-day Adventists) or Biblical Criticism scholars see things. The first group often thinks that God revealed those things directly to Moses and that there was no handing down of tradition in this regard. Although this is surely possible, the close correspondence with similar Sumerian stories suggests otherwise. The second group nowadays prefer the Babylonian Hypothesis according to which the Mesopotamian material in the Book of Genesis had its origin during the Babylonian exile (there is also a view that these motifs entered Israelite tradition during the monarchic period but the extent of the correspondence with Sumerian tradition makes it extremely unlikely that it happened at any other time when contact between those regions was not that close). In this view, Abraham is typically not considered as a historical person and the tradition about his migration is not taken seriously. 

In previous essays on this blog (as part of the series on the Book of Genesis), I presented many reasons why the Sumerian Hypothesis is to be preferred to the Babylonian one. Although I have not yet considered the historicity of Abraham in the discussion, there cannot be any doubt that this stands central to the validity of the Sumerian Hypothesis. Even though the arguments presented so far have strong significance on their own (they are very difficult to explain without the Sumerian Hypothesis), they are basically grounded on the idea that the Mesopotamian material in the Book of Genesis had its origin within the context of the migration of the Abrahamic family from Ur in Sumer to Canaan.

In this essay, I discuss the historicity of Abraham from three different angles. The first angle is primarily concerned with the obvious Sumerian motifs in the "ancient history" (Gen. 1-11). I give an overview thereof and show that it is extremely difficult to explain these without calling upon the Sumerian Hypothesis in some way (and by implication, on the truth of the Abrahamic story). The second angle focuses on the Abrahamic story itself and the historical information therein. I argue that some of this information is impossible to explain without accepting that it originated from trustworthy sources. The third angle considers the nature of the Abrahamic tradition (especially its oracular nature) which strongly suggests that it was written down during the lifetime of Abraham himself. These points make a remarkably strong case for a historical Abraham and the Sumerian Hypothesis.

The Sumerian origin of the "ancient history"

There are various motifs in the "ancient history" which are consistent with the Sumerian Hypothesis which at the same time resist any explanation in terms of the Babylonian Hypothesis. What is so interesting, is that there are so many of these motifs! They all point in one direction: an early Sumerian origin. And that suggests that they became part of the Hebrew tradition after being handed down for a long time by the Abrahamic family. 

1. The strong Sumerian influence in the creation story

Any scholar who is familiar with the Sumerian tradition cannot but to observe the remarkably strong Sumerian influence in the creation story. The opening words, namely that God created "heaven and earth", uses the traditional Sumerian term for the cosmos. The "deep" (primaeval waters) which existed before all things (even before God commenced with his acts of creation!) finds its equivalent in the Sumerian primaeval "Apsu" from which "heaven and earth" were created according to Sumerian sources.

The light which God created on the first day (as his very first act of creation) finds its equivalent in the brilliant light, called Gibil, which appeared from the primaeval Apsu. The "firmament" (heaven) and earth that were created on the second and third days respectively fit perfectly with the Sumerian worldview – the idea of creation out of water (and establishing dry ground – and even the cosmos as such) is an old Sumerian motif. The creation of the sun only on the fourth day (at a later stage in the process of creation) reflects the late arrival of the sun god on the scene in Sumerian tradition (he was a later offspring of the gods) (see [1] for a detailed discussion).

From a Biblical point of view, this close correspondence with the Sumerian tradition suggests that the author of the Book of Genesis used source material originating from this milieu (i.e., that was the world which moulded the thinking of the person/s who wrote the source material) and that he reworked those ancient motifs within an evolving Hebrew tradition. As such, he included the creation of all sorts of plants and animals, as well as humans, and replaced the polytheistic perspective of the Sumerians with the monotheistic view of the Hebrews. Of particular importance in this regard is the fact that these Sumerian motifs in the creation story show absolutely no influence whatsoever from developments after the Abrahamic period (i.e. no motifs which are distinctively neo-Babylonian or neo-Assyrian).

The idea that the creation story of Genesis 1 was influenced by the Babylonian Enuma Elis (creation epic) is far-fetched. A possible association between the Hebrew word tehom (deep) and the sea monster Tiamat proves nothing since those ideas were around since Akkadian times (ca. 2370-2190 BC). We do not find any of the complicated creation motifs typical of the Babylonian creation story (for example, of the war between the older and younger generations of gods (the latter led by Marduk) or the creation of the world from the body of the killed monster) in Genesis 1. Although there are clear Mesopotamian influences, these are typical of the early Sumerian traditions (the world of Abraham and his forefathers) and not in accordance with later developments in Babylonian thinking. In a previous essay some years ago, I challenged any scholar to provide a single thread of evidence to the contrary!! [2] Nobody has done that.

Those who argue for the Babylonian Hypothesis usually take Genesis 1 as a polemical text written late in Israel's development. As such, they explain the late arrival of the sun, moon and stars on the scene as an effort by the Hebrew author (from the time of the exile or thereafter) to argue that the gods of the surrounding nations cannot be compared with the great creator God of the Hebrews who is so powerful that He could create light and let the plants grow even without the presence of the sun. The problem for this view, however, is that Marduk, the main god of the neo-Babylonians, was a weather god and the sun and moon gods did not play an important role in the Babylonian (or Mesopotamian for that matter) theology! As such, this view makes no sense - why would the author try to assert the authority of the Hebrew God against such unimportant gods? It seems much better to think that this was not a polemical text at all – its purpose seems to have been totally different (see below).

There are also those who think in terms of an Egyptian origin for the creation story. This means that the author was directing his arguments towards the Egyptian gods. This is possible if we assume that the text was written in a period when the Israelites had some interaction with the Egyptians, which happened during various periods in Israel's history. In this case, the argument could work: One of the oldest and most prominent Egyptian gods was the creator god Atum who was syncretized with the sun god Ra. And the motif of the primaeval earth coming forth out of the primaeval waters is also an old Egyptian concept (as it is a Mesopotamian one).

There is, however, an important reason not to accept this view, namely that the rest of the ancient history in Genesis is clearly taken from ancient Mesopotamian (more correctly, Sumerian or Akkadian) sources (Akkadian is the Semitic language spoken in ancient Sumer). So, on what grounds would one prefer an Egyptian background for the text? And why cling to the polemical view? It seems much easier to take the order of creation (with the sun, moon and stars created later in the process) as typical of ancient Sumerian thinking.

2. The Sumerian influence on the story of Adam and Eve

The garden story also shows strong Sumerian influence. The main personage of the Biblical story, namely Adam, corresponds with the similarly named Adapa of Sumerian tradition – Adam is presented as the first known human with whom God had a relationship whereas Adapa was the founding sage who brought civilization to Sumer and the first human with whom the Supreme god An (which in my view corresponds with the Semitic god El) had a relationship. Adapa was misled by the Sumerian god Enki (who is sometimes described as a snake) regarding the food of life in the same way that Eve was misled by the snake regarding the food of the tree. In both cases, God (or a god) prevented them from eating from the food/tree of life. 

In the garden story, God is presented as a potter who made Adam from clay and created Eve from Adam's rib. Both of these are well-known Sumerian motifs which are clearly used by the Biblical author as metaphors. Of special interest is the story of Eve's creation. This story is clearly reworked from a very well-known ancient image which we find in the story of the Sumerian god Enki's creation of eight other gods and goddesses from his own body, who were all named after various parts of his body in a play of words. One of these was a virgin goddess called Ninti, whose name means "lady rib" but play on the words "lady life". Now, this is exactly what we find in the garden story in the Book of Genesis: Eve is taken from the rib of Adam and her name is later said to mean "life" (Gen. 3:20). The reason why the author used and reworked this Sumerian story to introduce Eve was that he wanted to accentuate that she was in the closest sense one with Adam (i.e that they belonged together in marriage which was not universally instituted (presumably even in Canaan) until relatively late as we know from Mycenaean tradition; Gen. 2:24), just as the mentioned gods and goddesses were in the closest possible sense associated with their parent god (for a detailed discussion, see [3]).

The fact that these are very old Sumerian motifs seems to suggest that the author of the source material for the garden story came from a milieu where this was the typical motifs which suggested themselves to him – which is in line with my reading of the creation story in Genesis 1 above. Although these motifs would also have been available to a later author from the time of the Babylonian exile, it would have been very strange if he used these very "heathen" motifs given that he had a long Hebrew tradition behind him which would have included other possible metaphors (the metaphor of God as potter was indeed incorporated in later Hebrew tradition).

3. Other Sumerian influences in the garden story

There are many other motifs in the garden story which go back to ancient Sumer – some of which belong to an ancient stratum of thinking which was very different from that which was current during the period of the exile. In this regard a comparison with the garden (of Eden) stories of the prophet Ezekiel (in chapters 28 and 31) – who did, in fact, live during the exile – is informative.

Consider the geographical location of the garden. According to the story it was located somewhere in the east in the area of the "heads" (headwaters) of the Tigrus, Euphrates, Gihon (Gaihun, called Araxes after the Islamic invasion of the Caucasus) and Pishon (Uizhum) (for a detailed discussion, see [4]). This would be somewhere in the northern Zagros mountains – exactly where the ancient Sumerians placed their own origins. One may suggest that both the Sumerians and Semites living in Sumer traced their origins back to that northern region.

In the ancient Middle Eastern worldview, this garden was close to (or on top of) the "mountain of the gods" which the Sumerians located in the northern Zagros (in the land of Aratta [5]) as we read in Enmerkar and the Lord of Aratta [6]. Later, during the Ur III period (ca. 2150-2050 BC), this northern location was replaced by one in the Cedar Mountains which was located in the distant west (originally identified with the Amanus and later with the Lebanon mountains) as we find in the Gilgamesh Epic [4]. This change reflects developments during the Akkadian period (ca. 2370-2190 BC) when those kings started making long journeys to the Amanus and the Mediterranean Sea in the west. In accordance with this change in location due to later developments in the Semitic tradition, the garden is placed in the Lebanon mountains in the stories of Ezekiel - in line with the tradition found in the Gilgamesh Epic

As such, the contrast between the locations of the garden in the Book of Genesis and in Ezekiel can be explained easily. The story in the Book of Genesis reflects an extremely old tradition going back before the Akkadian period (2350-2150 BC) when the mountain of the gods was still located in the northern Zagros long before it became associated with the Amanus and later the Lebanon mountains.  This is consistent with the other ancient Sumerian motifs in the book. The story of Ezekiel on the other hand clearly reflects the tradition found in the Epic of Gilgamesh, which was current at the time of the Babylonian exile.

What about the tree in the garden? In the story in the Book of Genesis, the tree is said to bear some kind of fruit – which stands (once again) in direct contrast with the cedar of Ezekiel's description. What is more, the close association between the serpent and the cosmic tree (growing in the "middle" of the garden) is not unique to the Bible; it is a very old motif that goes back to the earliest strata of ancient Sumerian thought. In ancient Sumerian literature, there are various stories where we find such a close association between the serpent and the tree, namely that of Inana and the Halub tree, the myth of Lugalbanda as well as the legend of Etana. 

In these Sumerian stories, there is another creature which is also associated with the same tree, namely the Anzu eagle. The eagle is typically depicted in the top of the tree, whereas the serpent is depicted at the bottom. One may suggest that these Mesopotamian eagles correspond to the Biblical cherubim which would explain why we find both the serpent as well as such cherubim mentioned in the garden story in Genesis. Cherubim also have large wings and we read in Hebrew poetry that God rides on a cherub (Ps. 18:10, 11; the Anzu was also associated with the abode of the king of the gods in Sumerian tradition). Interestingly, the cherubim of later Biblical tradition are depicted differently with four heads, namely of a man, a lion, an ox and an eagle (Ezek. 1:5-10; 10:20-21) [7].

We furthermore find (consistent with such a Sumerian origin for this motif!) the same antagonism between the realms of heaven and the underworld  (to which the snake belonged - it guards the "pit" at the bottom of the tree in the Etana story) in both the Sumerian and Hebrew traditions. This is a very old motif which appears in the Etana legend where the snake and eagle are depicted as antagonists fighting each other. There is a remarkable correspondence with the garden story where God (associated with the cherubim) and the snake are presented as opposing figures. As one expects from such an old text, the snake is, however, not directly identified as Satan as we find in later Hebrew tradition. As such, the depiction of the conflict between God and the snake is much more in line with early Sumerian tradition (as we find in the Etana legend) than later Hebrew tradition from the time of the exile when this conflict was presented as being between God and his great antagonist, Satan (see, for example, Zech. 3:1-5) (for a detailed discussion, see [8]).

It had been proposed by Sumerologists that this motif of the cosmic tree, snake and eagle goes back to ancient shamanistic traditions from northern Asia [9]. What is interesting regarding this shamanistic theme, is that the serpent which tempted Eve shows close correspondence with a motif found in shamanistic traditions from those regions, namely among the Yahut shamans where the "spirit" of the cosmic tree is perceived of as a naked woman at the roots of the tree (which were associated in Sumer with snakes, i.e. suggesting a women with the lower body of a snake as we find with the ancient Sumerian goddess Ninhursag). She tempts the aspirant shaman with the milk of her breasts which is said to be a symbol of the consciousness-altering mushrooms which grow in close proximity to such trees (especially birch trees). This may explain the "fruit" of the tree in the Biblical story which is obviously not of the usual kind since it had the power to "open" one's eyes and enable you to become like "the gods" (for a detailed discussion, see [10]).

4. Sumerian influences in the rest of the ancient history

When we come to the rest of the ancient history of Genesis 4-11 we find that it too has features which show strong Sumerian influence going back to late Sumerian and early Old Babylonian times (i.e. the time of Abraham). It has a very distinct style which differs from that of the patriarchal history as well as the other historical narratives given in the Bible. What distinguishes the ancient history is 1) genealogical lists of the earliest remembered forefathers, 2) particularly long lifetimes accorded to these people, some of whom are said to have lived for nearly a millennium, 3) short accounts of events related to some of these persons – some in-between the genealogies and others within the genealogies, 4) a Sumerian background for some of the stories (taking place in the land “Shinar”).

Readers who are acquainted with the Sumerian King List would immediately recognize a close agreement with that text – in line with the reference to that land in the text itself. The Sumerian King List was probably compiled during the reign of king Utuhegal of Uruk during the end of the third millennium BC although the oldest copies found so far date from the time of the Isin dynasty early in the second millennium BC. As with Genesis 4-11, the list contains genealogies of early forefathers, some of whom also lived centuries-long lives as well as short comments about some of these figures. The difference between the texts is that the Hebrew text includes short stories between the different genealogical lists, whereas the Sumerian King List does not. This is, however, not too far removed from the Sumerian King List which also uses information from Sumerian stories (some of which correspond to the Biblical ones).

One may also compare the Hebrew tradition with the Amoritic king lists from the Old Babylonian Period (during the early second millennium BC). In this case, the king lists of the historical kings were also preceded by the names of their forefathers. The difference is, however, that these lists do not ascribe such long lifetimes to these forefathers as we find in the Sumerian King List and one also does not find the short commentaries typical of that list. So, although the ancient history in Genesis serves as the preamble to the patriarchal narratives (of Abraham etc.) in a similar way that the Amorites’ list their forefathers before proceeding with the reigns of their kings, the correspondence with the Sumerian King List is much closer.

This close correspondence between the ancient history of Genesis 4-11 and the Sumerian King List forces us to consider the possibility that was written (at least in its original version) during the epoch when that style was still in use, which would be some time during the early Old Babylonian Period (the time when Abraham is said to have lived). This would immediately explain why the Hebrew text has so much in common with the Sumerian King List, namely that it originated in the very milieu where that style was in use. The problem with the Babylonian Hypothesis is that one has to accept that the author (for some very strange reason) imitated a style that had been out of use for more than a thousand years! This does not make sense (except if one is has been paradigmatically conditioned to only accept the validity of the Babylonian Hypothesis!).

What is more, the Biblical personages and stories mentioned in the ancient history (Adam, Enoch, the flood, early origins in the land of Ararat, Nimrod, the building of the Tower of Babel and the subsequent confusion of languages etc.) also correspond to a remarkable degree with personages and stories in Sumerian tradition (Adapa, Etana ("he who went to heaven"), the flood, early origins in the land of Aratta, Enmerkar, the building projects during the Uruk period at Uruk and Eridu, the confusion of languages etc.) (for a detailed discussion, see [11]). Just as Enoch went to heaven, Etana is said to have gone to heaven (on the back of an eagle). One finds a remarkable correspondence between the stories and genealogies of the Cush and Kash (Mes-kiag-kash-er) families. One of the members of this family was Nimrod, who correspond with the Sumerian Enmer-kar (N-m-r(d), the hunter). As was the case with Nimrod, Enmerkar was a great Sumerian king who ruled from Uruk and who conquered all the land to the north (including the land of Aratta). The confusion of languages is mentioned in both traditions (called the "Incantation of Nudimmud" in Sumer) and can be grounded historically in the context of the introduction of the first phonetic writing at the end of the Uruk period [11].

What is quite astonishing, and excludes the possibility of later borrowing, is that this does not merely constitute a detailed agreement between traditions (although there are also differences as can be expected from the parallel transmission of traditions), but that these traditions constitute a perspective on ancient Sumerian history that is very much in line with archaeological evidence (with the deluge referring to the well-documented break between the Ubaid and Uruk periods (for a detailed discussion, see [12])). In fact, the Biblical tradition is consistent with a viable reconstruction of Sumerian history from the time before the deluge until after the Uruk Period (ca. sixth to early third millennia BC [11]) – something that is not even found in Sumerian tradition where the ancient history of the land must be reconstructed from the textual sources and archaeological data. The obvious question is: How on earth did the Biblical author know how to arrange his history – placing the personages in the correct historical context? It does not make sense that the author wrote it down millenniums after these things happened without access to a continuous and reliable tradition.

5. A Sumerian/Akkadian origin for Abraham's God

There is also information from the rest of the Book of Genesis which suggests a Sumerian origin. Of particular importance is the reference to two El-gods, namely the Most High God (El-Elyon) and God Almighty (El-Shaddai). Although Abraham is said to have worshipped God in both these forms, the context in which they are worshipped is very different. The Most High God was worshipped on the mountain of God in Salem, whereas the Almighty God was worshipped as the ancestral God of Abraham and the fathers (Gen. 17:1; 28:3; 35:11; 43:14; 48:3; Ex. 6:3 etc.) (for a detailed discussion, see [13]).

Why this difference and how would one explain it? In Hebrew tradition, the Most High God was identified as the "father of the gods" who gathered on his cosmic mountain (Ps 82:6; Deut. 32:8). These gods (who were in later tradition called angels) are accordingly called "sons of God" (see Gen. 6:2; Job. 1: 6; 2: 1; 38: 7; also in the Septuagint in Ps. 29:1 & 89:6; Deut. 32:8, 43). This is an ancient concept found in both Sumerian and Canaanite (Semitic) tradition. The Almighty God, on the other hand, is called "God of your fathers" (Gen. 49: 23-25) - a concept which also belongs to the world of Abraham. According to Exodus 6:2 this is the God who was later called Yahweh, the God [Elohim] of Israel (Ex. 5:1). So, as one would expect, the "God of the fathers" became the "God of Israel". This name is first introduced in the shortened form "Yahweh God" in Genesis 2:4. 

Now, in contrast with the Most High God who was the father of the gods, this God "of the fathers" is depicted as the great warrior-king of the gods (already in the song about Israel's deliverance from Egypt; Ex. 15:11; Ps. 95:6; 1 Ki. 22:19; Ps. 82:1; 89:7-8). In fact, it seems that this Yahweh was even taken to be the firstborn son of the Most High God (who stands apart from the generic "sons of God") to whom he gave the people of Israel as an inheritance when he divided the nations among the "sons of God" (Deut. 32:8-9). Although it has been suggested that Yahweh has merely set Israel apart for himself, that goes very much against the idea of “inheritance”.

This distinction between the father of the gods and the king of the gods (in the council of the gods) was an ancient one. We find it in both Canaanite and Sumerian tradition but it is only in the Sumerian tradition that the king of the gods was also considered to be the direct (and only) son of the father of the gods. There was a variant tradition that Enki was also a son of An but there cannot be any doubt that this is a mere syncretism since two distinct groups of gods headed by An and Enki respectively go back to our earliest Sumerian sources from Fara (about 2500 BC). 

In Sumer, the father of the gods was called An, whose name means “exalted, most high”. The elevated position of this god can be seen in the manner in which his name was written in cuneiform. All the names of the gods were combined with the sign for “god” which showed the reader that a god is spoken of (called a determinative). In the case of An, however, no such sign appears behind his name; his name is also the sign for god. He was “God”, the elevated one above all other gods. According to the earliest literary tradition from Fara (about 2500 BC) as well as later Sumerian tradition, the worship of this God was extremely old. Since this sign was read by the Semites as "el", we may accept that the name An itself was understood as the god El who was incorporated into the Sumerian pantheon as the father of the gods.

The son of An was the god Enlil who was also the king of the gods in the council of the gods [14]. Sumerian scholars have proposed that this name originated from a duplication of the name El, i.e. that the symbol for El was accompanied by the symbol for god (el) [15]. There are various problems with this view. Although Enlil was indeed a Semitic god, he was worshipped as king of the gods which was very much distinct from El's traditional role as the father of the gods. The other problem is that El.El immediately also presents a duplication of the name El.

The Sumerians would have had theological speculations about the meaning of this name which implies a duplication of the God El into another God El. One may suggest that they would have thought that the God El, the father of the gods, duplicated himself to produce another god who shared his divine being, namely El.El (Enlil) who became the king of the gods. His kingship should be understood in the long Semitic (and Sumerian) tradition where this title was associated with warrior-kings. As king, he had the title "Lord" and was the one who pronounced the decision (word) of the council of the gods. As powerful ruler of heaven and earth, he was called the "Mighty One" [16] (see Gen. 49:24; Deut. 10:17). At this point, one cannot but see the close correspondence with the later Israelite tradition which would then constitute a continuation of this early Semitic tradition.

What I suggest, is that the relation between the Most High God (El-Elyon) and the Almighty God (El-Shaddai) as father and son goes back long before the time of Abraham in Semitic tradition – they were incorporated into Sumerian tradition as An and Enlil (as such these gods developed a particular Sumerian character). It is interesting to hear Balaam, who did not participate in the Israelite tradition going back to mount Sinai, referring to both of El-Elyon and El-Shaddai in one proverb: “He hath said, which heard the words of God (El), and knew the knowledge of the Most High, which saw the vision of the Almighty” (Num. 24:16; see also Ps. 91:1). This parallelism is similar to one from Sumerian poetry in which the fall of Ur is bemoaned: “In truth, I shed my tears in front of An. In truth, myself I mourned in front of Enlil” [17].

In my understanding, the two forms of the God El in the Book of Genesis reflect the ancient Sumerian/Semitic tradition in which the father of the gods and king of the gods were distinct from each other (they were later regarded as manifestations of one God in the Hebrew tradition). In my view, this also explains the way in which the names of God are used in the Book of Genesis which Biblical Criticism scholars usually explain in terms of their Documentary Hypothesis (for a critical analysis, see [2, 18]). This divine duality is found throughout Israel's long literary history until we read in the vision in the Book of Daniel that the “Son of man” appeared before the Ancient of days sitting on his glorious throne to receive eternal kingship over all the gods [13]. 

The historicity of Abraham

At this point, I think that any reader would have to admit that there is a remarkable amount of information in the ancient history (and the rest) of the Book of Genesis which was taken from Sumerian sources. This is true for the creation story (Gen.1), the garden story (Gen. 2-3) as well as the rest of the ancient history (Gen. 4-11). In fact, most of the important themes (although not in their particularly Hebrew presentation) can be found in Sumerian tradition. There cannot be any doubt that the author did not only purposively place the origins of his people (and all their ancient history) in Sumer (and the lands to the north thereof); he (or at least the author of the source material) was also deeply influenced by ancient Sumerian thought in a way that is consistent with the tradition about which he was writing (and from which he himself supposedly came). His writing style, his metaphors, the main characters and their stories find their closest equivalence in the ancient Babylonian milieu from the time of Abraham. And most importantly - there is absolutely no Mesopotamian influence whatsoever in the Book of Genesis which belongs to later developments in Mesopotamian thought per se. 

File:Grechetto (Giovanni Benedetto Castiglione) - Journey of the Family of Abraham - Google Art Project.jpg
Journey of the Family of Abraham (painted by Giovanni Benedetto Castiglione in 1650-1660)
These things suggest that the story about Abraham's journey from Ur in Sumer to Canaan should be taken seriously. Although scholars from the Biblical Criticism tradition have consistently refused to do this [19], new archaeological evidence which is consistent with the Biblical tale proves them wrong. Of particular importance in this regard, is the Elamite incursion that is said to have happened in the period after Abraham migrated from Harran (where he and his family are said to have stayed for some time) to Canaan.

We are in the fortunate position that we do not only now know that such an incursion of the Elamites into northwestern Syria actually took place during that time but also when namely in 1822 BC (according to the "high" Mesopotamian chronology; it happened only once during the relevant period). Of particular interest is the fact that the date of this event is consistent with the Septuagint dating of Abraham’s arrival in Canaan, namely in 1837 BC. (The Masoretic text gives a later date).

If we take the Septuagint reading serious, then the Elamite incursion would have happened 15 years after Abraham’s arrival in Canaan, during the reign of Siwe-palar-huppak, king of Elam, which is about 19 years before Hammurabi became overlord of Mesopotamia in 1818 BC after his victory over Rim-Sin of Larsa. The northern invaders might have marched under the leadership of Kudu-zulus, the brother of the Elamite king, who ruled in Esnunna in Sumer [20]. One may even suggest that the name “Kedor” in Kedor-Laómer, the name of the leader of the invaders according to the Biblical narrative, goes back to “Kudu” in Kudu-zulus because these names have the same root form K-d.

Another interesting piece of information in the Hebrew Bible is that Abraham journeyed to Egypt – seemingly directly after his first arrival in Canaan because there was famine in the land (see Gen. 12:5-10). According to the Septuagint, this happened in about 1836 BC, which is consistent with the well-known depiction at Beni Hassan in Egypt of a man called Abishai/r, which is of the same Amorite name-type as Abraham [21]. This Abishai/r is shown in the tomb of Khnumhotep II, administrator of the Eastern Desert who had close ties with the royal court, with his entourage arriving with "greeting gifts" in Egypt in the sixth year of king Senusert II in 1836 BC (according to K. A. Kitchen's low Egyptian chronology). He is described as a "ruler of the hill-lands" (Canaan). This corresponds to the Biblical description of Abraham as a "mighty prince" from Canaan (Gen. 28:6).

Abishai's entourage included thirty-seven men with their families (even though only some of these are shown [22]) who were Asiatics of Shu, a geographical term which probably refers to the southern Levant (most scholars identify it with the region east of the Jordan River – which is also the region through which Abraham came from Harran to Canaan). Also relevant to the discussion, is the colourful robe "patterned with stripes and chevrons" [22] worn by Abishai/r which reminds of such a robe mentioned in the Biblical tradition in connection with Joseph (Gen. 37:3).
Image result for beni hassan
Abishai and his entourage arriving in Egypt from Canaan
What shall we make of this? These correspondences may be a mere coincidence. It is, however, also possible that a Semitic prince called Abraham/Abishai in the Hebrew and Egyptian traditions respectively arrived from Canaan in Egypt in the year 1836 BC (if we take the Septuagint as consistent with Kitchen's low chronology and the Mesopotamian high chronology - I argued elsewhere that this is by far the best way to reconstruct the ancient Middle Eastern chronology [23]). The reason for taking this possibility seriously is that the Hebrew tradition does, in fact, includes data that is consistent with evidence from Mesopotamia in accordance with the high chronology (see above). Also, according to the Hebrew tradition Abraham's coming to Egypt was noted even at the royal court which would be consistent with the remarkable (and unique) depiction at Beni Hassan.

Although we can obviously not prove that Abraham was a historical personage, the remarkable consistency with known archaeological facts as well as the strong Sumerian influence on the stories about Abraham's forebears gives us reason to think that this is indeed a trustworthy tradition. In fact, it is impossible to explain the correctness of the information about the Elamitic incursion to northern Syria without accepting the trustworthiness of the Biblical story (there is also nothing that goes against this assessment). At this point, we may take a closer look at the nature of the Abrahamic tradition with the hope that we may find some clues therein regarding its origin.

The essential nature of the Abrahamic tradition

When we take a closer look at the Abrahamic tradition, there is one thing that immediately jumps to our attention, namely the remarkable amount of oracular material. We read that God first appeared to Abraham at Ur in Sumer and then again at various points throughout his story (Gen. 12:1-3; 12:7; 13:14-17; 15:1-21; 17:1-22; 18:1-33; 22:1-2, 15-18). In fact, the story of Abraham is closely interwoven with the many oracles ascribed to the Almighty God (Gen. 17:1; Ex. 6:2). We even read that Abraham is called a "prophet" in Hebrew tradition (Gen. 29:7).

Now, the tradition of writing down oracles also had a long history in ancient Mesopotamia, since the time of the Akkadian kings who ruled over Sumer (ca. 2370-2190 BC) and persisting in the western regions such as Mari where those traditions were kept alive. In Akkadian times, animals were sacrificed to inspect their intestines for an oracle from the gods. As these were considered to be of divine provenance great care was taken to make clay models of the intestines on which the oracles were also inscribed. Also, in the epic tales of these great kings, these oracles are mentioned as part of their story. These stories belong to a long Semitic oral tradition in which they were told and retold by court poets throughout the centuries. During the early second millennium BC, there were poet-prophets in the western city of Mari who also wrote down prophecies which had come down to us. Some of these prophecies were connected with the kings of Mari - of whom epic tales were also told.

What is of particular importance to our story is the fact that these Mari prophecies date from the time of Abraham - who would have travelled past that city on his way to the west. As such, the custom of receiving and writing down prophecies that we find in Abrahamic tradition - and even the practice of incorporation such oracles in the stories as a whole - have a long history in the world from which Abraham came! Since such oracles were considered with great awe - which is also why they were written down when they were first given - it seems reasonable to assume that this practice also applied to the very similar Abrahamic tradition. This reading is in line with the overwhelming evidence for Sumerian influence in the ancient history - which is also written down in a style that reflects that ancient milieu! This strongly suggests that the patriarchal stories were (indeed) written down (at least in the form of the source material which was used by the Biblical author) during the period in which they are placed!

One cannot but notice that these early literary roots are also reflected in the rest of Hebrew tradition where we read that Moses was a prophet (Num. 12:6-8; Deut. 34:10) who received various oracles from God which he wrote down and taught the people (Ex. 19:7-9; 24:3-8; 34:27, 28). In this case, the circumstances in which they were received are also mentioned (Ex. 17:14; Nu. 33:1, 2). Later, Moses's successor Josua is also said to have written down some of Moses's oracles which are said to have dated from the time of Moses himself (Jos. 8:32; 24:26). Other oracles are also identified with the period of the judges. In later tradition, from the time of Samuel, the Hebrew prophets were the ones who did not only wrote down the oracles but also the historical context in which they were given [24].  

Also interesting is the importance of oral tradition within Semitic circles during the late third and early second millenniums BC. In the time of the Akkadian period, we read how Enheduanna, the daughter of king Sargon the Great, who wrote three poems in honour of the goddess Inana, called in one of these upon the poets to hand it down verbatum: “That which I recited to you at (mid)night, May the singer repeat it to you at noon”. The original use of the word implies that the poem had to be repeated: “in the presumably technical sense of repeating verbatum” [25]. At that time oral techniques may have formed part of the education of such poets. The Akkadian epic tales which recount the great and mighty heroic deeds of those kings also show that they were handed down in poetic circles for centuries.

The reason why this is of importance to us is that the ancient history may originally have been handed down in the same way. Although this tradition was probably first written down in Old Babylonian times (the time of Abraham) (as is reflected in the close correspondence with the Sumerian King List), the material for this may have come from a long oral tradition. This is exactly what happened with the Akkadian epic tales; they were also handed down since Akkadian times and were only written down in the Old Babylonian period. 

The Biblical expression "written on their hearts" reflects this strong oral current in Hebrew circles which may have survived for a long time as Koert van Bekkum writes: “Met het gebruik van de uitdrukking 'schrijven in hun hart' maakt Jeremia tekst gebruik van een bekend beeld in het oude Nabije Oosten waarin het uiteindelijke doel van heel de scholing werd verwoord: het uit het hoofd kennen van de teksten, ingewijd worden in een traditie en ernaar gaan leven” [26]. One may suggest that the difference in literary styles between the ancient history and patriarchal stories reflects the oral nature of the material used for the first in contrast with the second which was written down during the lifetime of the patriarchs themselves.

At this point, we find that we have good reasons to think that the ancient tradition originated from Semitic circles in Sumer and was first written down in Old Babylonian times. The patriarchal story of Abraham also reflects the world of that time and its oracular nature strongly suggests that it was first written down during the lifetime of Abraham himself. Given the fact that Ur was a city of great learning, we may assume that Abraham was educated in the Sumerian scribal tradition and that he or people in his entourage wrote down the source material which was later used to write the Book of Genesis. One may suggest that the recurrent reference to the "(books of) the generations of" (Gen. 2:4a; 5:1; 6:9; 10:1; 11:10,27; 25:12, 19; 36:1,9; 37:2) refers to various source documents used in this regard.

Who wrote the Book of Genesis?

This brings us in the final instance to the question of authorship. When we want to gain some insight into this, we have to take a closer look at the way in which the author reworked the source material. What was his special concerns and how did he make use of his sources to present his own view of the world? Traditionally the book had been ascribed to Moses to whom God is said to have revealed Himself with the name Yahweh. The use of the divine name "Yahweh God" (or just: Yahweh) throughout the book is consistent with this view. Since this name belonged to a long Hebrew tradition, this, however, does not on its own establishes the authorship of the book. (Some Biblical Criticism scholars used the reference to "Chaldees" in Genesis 11:29, 31 which dates from the time of the exile to support their view but this is clearly the hand of a late editor).

We can start with the creation story in Genesis 1. When we carefully consider this story, we find that the author used motifs typical to the ancient worldview (of Sumerian origin) and rearranged them into a new pattern – into six creation days plus a Sabbath (presented as six periods of creation and one of rest). He did this to establish a divine model for the practice of keeping the Sabbath as a day of rest (Gen. 2:2-3). This practice – to write a creation story which served as the model for cult practice – is found all over the ancient Middle East. This strongly suggests that the purpose of the creation story was not to serve as some kind of polemical text but rather as an argument for keeping the Sabbath when it was first introduced.

Now, although the seven day week was known in the ancient Ur III period (~2100-2000BC) and later in Canaan as one can see in the Ugarit texts (~1400-1200 BC), the Sabbath always played a very central role in Israel. The one person who is indissolubly connected with introducing the practice of keeping the Sabbath is Moses. Keeping the Sabbath is part of the ten commandments which Moses is said to have received from God (Ex. 34:27, 28). So, the most logical time when one expects that this kind of argument would have been made in Hebrew context is when the Sabbath was first introduced. And since Moses is so closely associated with introducing the Sabbath, we may with good reasons think that he was the author of the Book of Genesis as is traditionally held.

There is other evidence which supports this view. The garden story ends with God Himself making clothes for Adam and Eve from animal skins to replace their fig leaves. This would have involved the slaughter of animals (Gen. 3:21). In fact, in the story of their sons Cain and Abel, we find that the right kind of sacrifice is clearly stated to be one of animals - not an offering of the fruit of one's labour which symbolizes one's own effort. Now, as is the case with the Sabbath, we find that God's example (at the time of the "beginning" of known history) is used to introduce the right kind of sacrifice which is consistent with that of Mosaic tradition. Again, the divine model serves as the basis for cultic practice.

There is, however, more to this. The author did not merely introduce animal sacrifice as a way to please God, he also presents this in contrast with the events of the preceding garden story. In the garden story God is depicted as rejecting the practices that are grounded in shamanism - practices like those ascribed to Balaam (which is also placed in the time of Moses) which involved enchantments (Num. 24:1; although such practices also involved sacrifice that was not in the manner required by God). The story of Balaam does, in fact, show some correspondence with the garden story: both, for example, involves a speaking animal (donkey; typical of the shamanistic experience), the idea of "opened eyes" as well as some kind of secret knowledge available to the initiates (Gen. 3:5; Num. 24:16).

We find this rejection of occult practice throughout the Pentateuch. Instead, God requires certain animal sacrifices like those which Moses is said to have introduced into Israelite practice after the exodus during their time in the desert. The story, therefore, serves to confirm the validity of the Mosaic ceremonial laws (see also the story in Numeri 25 where these two kinds of sacrifices are explicitly presented in opposition to each other!). Such a context of writing would constitute a strong argument that the Book of Genesis was indeed written early as has been traditionally accepted.

Conclusion

In this essay, our concern is with the trustworthiness of the Abrahamic tradition. If this story is a true reflection of historical events, then we expect that Abraham's origin in Sumer would be reflected in the ancient history - which is presented in the book as the prehistory of that family. And this is exactly what we found. There cannot be any doubt that the book had been influenced at its very core by the Sumerian world.

This Sumerian influence is visible in the many Sumerian motifs found in the creation story, in the garden story as well as the style and content of the rest of the ancient history. The author(s) - not the one who finally wrote the book, but those who wrote the source material - clearly worked within the ancient Old Babylonian milieu in which the ancient Sumerian ideas dominated. Of particular importance is the fact that the ancient history reflects a valid reconstruction of ancient Sumerian tradition (which cannot be accounted for without assuming some kind of continuous tradition), that this ancient history is in accordance with Sumerian literary tradition as found in the Sumerian King List and that there is absolutely no Mesopotamian material whatsoever included which date from the post-Abrahamic period per se.

We also found that Abraham's story includes information which cannot be explained except in terms of a trustworthy tradition going back to those events themselves. There is no other possible way that the author could have known about the Elamite incursion into northwestern Syra or the other details given in the story. This conclusion is consistent with the nature of the Abrahamic tradition which includes many oracles as well as the story which brings them all together. This way of presenting history is typical of the Akkadian tradition - and the one later found at Mari. Given the fact that such oracles were typically written down shortly after they were revealed, one cannot but come to the same conclusion regarding the Abrahamic oracles. If these were written down at that time (as this evidence suggests) then the trustworthiness of the material is easily explained.

One may ask: Why is the Sumerian information in the Book of Genesis never presented by scholars supporting the Babylonian Hypothesis in the unified way that I do in this essay? Why do such scholars follow an ad hoc approach trying to explain these features - always assuming that it cannot be true! I think this is an example of the deep bais in Biblical Criticism circles against the Bible which goes back to modernist times. The fact is: They cannot explain the things discussed in this essay in any coherent way within the Babylonian Hypothesis. It is time to finally reject the misguided efforts of such scholars and accept the Abrahamic tradition as trustworthy in every possible aspect that we are able to test given the restricted nature of our available evidence [27].

[5] The only known geographical reference to Aratta that is found outside the early Sumerian literature, comes from the account of Sargon II of Assyria's eight campaign. He travelled through the well-known seven mountain ranges across the northern Zagros where he finally arrived at a river called Aratta. This places the land of Aratta (the Biblical Ararat) near Mount Sahand in northern Iran. It is possible that the holy mountain of Aratta with its garden served as the basis for later Sumerian tradition since some of those royal families (such as the one who ruled at Uruk) traced their descent from this very land.
[6] In an ancient text called Gilgamesh and Humbaba (from the Ur III period), we read that the heroes Gilgamesh and Humbaba travelled across seven mountain ranges before they found the beautiful cedar which grew near (or on) the mountain of the gods. These "seven mountain ranges" were, however, not on the way to the Amanus mountains in the west but on the journey to the distant land of Aratta to the north of Sumer (the Biblical Ararat) - which means that this theme had been taken from that tradition and reapplied to the Gilgamesh legends. These seven mountain ranges are referred to in the legends told about an early king of Uruk, named Enmerkar, who ruled during the last part of the fourth millennium BC. His servant travelled through the seven mountain ranges to the land of Aratta beyond the Zagros mountains. In the Gilgamesh Epic of later tradition, Gilgamesh and his friend Enkidu travelled to the distant west.
[7] Whereas the cherubim are depicted with four different faces in Ezekiel, we find in Ezek. 10:14 that the ox face is called that of a cherub. As this is in conflict with the rest of Ezekiel's text and does not appear in the Septuagint, we cannot take this as normative.
[9] Dalley, S. 1998. The Legacy of Mesopotamia. Oxford: Oxford University.
[12] The Great Flood: Did it really happen?
Traditionally, Biblical Criticism scholars believed that the Biblical story of the deluge originated from the Akkadian Atrahasis Epic which dates from ca. 1700-1600 BC. In their view, a copy found at Ras Shamra on the North Syrian coast dating to ca. 1300 BC shows that the text was known in Canaan at an early enough data to be incorporated into the J flood story (in accordance with the Documentary Hypothesis). No complete copy of this epic has, however, been found and those copies that we have, lack the crucial sections for comparison. This has led some scholars to propose that the Genesis flood story - which they date to the exilic or post-exilic periods - was taken either from the 11th tablet of the Gilgamesh Epic (which was a late addition to that epic) or Berossus's Babyloniaca. Again, the problem is that these versions of the deluge show crucial differences with the Biblical one. In my view, the Hebrew and Babylonian versions of the story go back to a common original tradition in Sumer which was handed down separately within the Abrahamic family and in Babylonian circles. 
[13] Who is Elohim?
[14] Shortly after the time of Abraham, the god Marduk usurped the role of king of the gods to become ruler of the Babylonian gods. After that time the character of Enlil was slandered in Babylonia. There is, for example, the story of his banishment to the Western mountains in which he is depicted as having sexual relations with the goddess Ninlil. This story was clearly taken from the opposing Enki milieu as Michalowski [15] has shown (Enki was the father of Marduk). Marduk was later worshipped by the Canaanites as Baal. In both the Babylonian and Canaanite traditions he is presented as a rebel who led an insurrection against the king of the gods to become king himself. As such his role as king of the gods was never accepted in Israel. Instead, this rebel-leader in the council of the gods was called Satan, which means “adversary”, in the Biblical tradition. The figure of Satan is clearly old and cannot be understood apart from the ancient concept of the council of the gods [8, 13].
[15] Jacobsen, Thorkild. 1977. Inuma Iiu awilum, in Maria de Jong Ellis (ed.). Memoirs of the Connecticut Academy of Arts & Science Vol xix. Hamden: Archon Books.
Michalowski, Piotr. 1996. The Unbearable Lightness of Enlil, in J. Prosecky (ed.). Intellectual Life of the Ancient Near East, papers presented 43e Rencontre assyriologique Internationale.
[16] Jacobsen, Thorkild. 1976. The Treasures of Darkness, p101. New Haven: Yale University.
[17] Mullen, E. Theodore. 1980. The Divine Council in Canaanite and Early Hebrew Literature. Chico (California): Scholars Press.
[19] In South African context, Jurie le Roux is one of the main proponents of the view that the Abraham story dates from after the exile. He has propagated this view in various essays in the official publication of the Theological Faculty of the University of Pretoria (see TEO 27/05/2016). He always quotes Biblical Criticism scholars that agree with his view - all of whom dogmatically accepts the Babylonian Hypothesis. If one accepts the Babylonian Hypothesis then this is the obvious outcome. If one rejects that context, then everything changes! 
In Le Roux's (long-discredited) modernist and positivist perspective, the lack of sufficient evidence for a historical Abraham (in his opinion) is evidence that there was no historical Abraham! He might have remembered how the scholarly consensus that Dawid was not a historical person was overturned by the discovery of the Tell Dan Stela on which mention is made of the "House of Dawid". Le Roux mentions an essay by Joseph Blenkinsopp, Judaeans, Jews, Children of Abraham (2011), in which the latter takes the usual Biblical Criticism stance that the Biblical authors "invented" their stories for all sorts of "necessary" reasons and then resorts to remarkable intellectual acrobatics to argue that the Abraham story was invented after the return from exile. For these scholars one thing stands above all others: The Biblical narrative can under absolutely no circumstances be true! 
[20] Van de Mieroop, Marc. 2005. King Hammurabi of Babylon: a biography. Oxford: Blackwell.
[21] Hoffmeier, James K. 2008. The Archaeology of the Bible. Oxford: Lion Hudson.
[22] Kamrin, Janice. 2009. The Aamu of Shu in the Tomb of Khnumhotep II at Beni Hassan. Journal of Ancient Egyptian Interconnections 1(3):22-36.
[24] Various court prophets are mentioned in Hebrew tradition as the ones who wrote down the oracles as well as the story which tells the context in which that happened. Among these were Samuel (I Sam. 10:25), Nathan (1 Chr. 29:29; 2 Chr. 9:29); Gad (1 Chr. 29:29; 2 Chr. 29:25), Ahijah (2 Chr. 9:29), Shemaiah (2 Chr. 12:15), Iddo (2 Chr. 12:15; 13:22), Elijah (2 Chr. 21:12), Isaiah (2 Chr. 32:32) and others. The author of the Chronicles of the Hebrew kings mentions the histories written by Samuel (from the time of King Saul), Nathan and Gad (from the time of King David), Ahijah (from the time of King Solomon), Shemaiah and Iddo (from the time of King Rehoboam), Elijah (from the time of King Ahab) and Isaiah (from the time of King Hezekiah). One cannot but see this as a continuation of the ancient Semitic tradition in which such prophets wrote down the oracles as well as the context in which they were revealed. It also strongly suggests that the historical data in those histories is trustworthy.
[25] Hallo, William & Van Dijk, J. J. A. 1968. The Exaltation of Inanna. New Haven: Yale University.
[26] Van Bekkum, Koet. 2013. Schrijven, schrijvers en auteurs in de oudheid, in Van Bekkum, Koet; Van Houwelingen, Rob & Peets, Eric (Red.). Nieuwe en oude dingen. Barneveld: Vuurbaak.
[27] One of the great problems with Biblical Criticism scholars is that they take no evidence as positive evidence of the negative which according to them "proves" that the literary tradition about Hebrew history is untrustworthy (see [19] above]. One of the contemporary culprits is Israel Finkelstein who is accused by Nadav Naaman of using the "not-found ergo does-not exist" principle (BASOR 317:2). This reflects a basic lack of understanding by a whole generation of scholars (deeply influenced by the long-discredited modernist roots of the discipline) regarding the nature of disciplines such as textual studies and archaeology (for a detailed discussion, see [18, 28]).

Author: Dr Willie Mc Loud (Ref. wmcloud.blogspot.com)
The author has written a book on the Sumerian roots of the Bible (Abraham en sy God (Griffel, 2012)) and is a scientist (PhD in Physics; MA in Philosophy). He writes on issues of religion, philosophy, science and eschatology.

Readers are welcome to share this essay.




Wednesday, 4 March 2015

Part 2: Can we still believe the Bible? An archaeological perspective

In this series I am considering the question: Can we still believe the Bible? The previous discussion focused on the scholarly study of the Biblical text. In this essay, I consider the archaeological study of the historicity of the Bible. To what extent is the Biblical narrative archaeologically confirmed? I develop a Kantian approach to archaeology that allows some fine-tuning not found in other approaches - and uses that to explore the question. As such I consider the conditions for the possibility of determining the trustworthiness of historical narratives in general before application to stories about historical events found in the Bible. 

The Bible is an ancient book or rather, a collection of books that originated in the ancient world. The stories told in the Bible stretch from the earliest period of remembered history to the end of the first century AD. The author of the Book of Genesis recounts stories that go back in time long before the people of Israel even existed in their land. He also tells how an early forefather named Abraham migrated sometime early in the second millennium BC from the land of Sumer to the land of Canaan where his descendants later became the people of Israel. The Biblical narrative includes the stories of the ancient patriarchs, their sojourn in and exodus from the land of Egypt, the early stages of Israel's history in their land, the monarchical period, the Babylonian exile and return. The Christian Bible also tells the story of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the Church that He founded. 

The mere fact that the Bible is an ancient book containing ancient stories, does not immediately mean that the stories about the earliest epochs are indeed ancient and as such handed down through the centuries until they were eventually written down or that the stories of later periods that recount the lives of Abraham, the patriarchs, the exodus etc. are indeed real history written by people who experienced those events. The question is: How do we determine whether the Biblical narratives are indeed trustworthy? It is surely possible that the authors could have made up the ancient stories themselves and that the later events in the land of Israel could have been written long afterwards in a context where the authors had various hidden agendas of their own. To consider this question there are two aspects of central importance. First, there is the study of the texts themselves. Secondly, there is the study of the available evidence which may confirm or deny the historicity of the events mentioned in the texts.

Both the study of the texts and the evidence concern specialized disciplines, namely textual studies and archaeology (other disciplines are also involved in any integrated approach). Central to both these disciplines is the issue of interpretation. The texts, as well as the data, should be interpreted with careful consideration of both the methods and their limits, otherwise, the conclusions could be way off the mark. Often practitioners in these disciples give up too high for their own fields of study - using the methods without due consideration of the limits within which they are valid. Since these fields have branched into various approaches during the past half-century, it is important that we carefully consider what constitutes a balanced approach before trying to engage with the above-mentioned question.

I have written two essays in which both the methods and the limits of these disciplines are carefully considered [1,2,3]. In this regard, I do something similar to the philosopher Immanuel Kant, who in his famous book Critique of Pure Reason, showed that pure reason has certain limits in its ability to make determinate judgments [1]. I merely extend that approach to the academic disciplines concerned. Instead of uncritically accepting the pronunciations of the academics involved (or those who merely assert the trustworthiness of the Bible!), such a study allows us to evaluate the validity of their claims. Often these practitioners have no philosophical training and have no idea about the limits of their discipline - some still operate in the modernist mindset that asserts the unlimited and objective reach of their methods. Others are in reaction and think that humans are so restricted (to arrive at valid conclusions) that all viewpoints should be accommodated (they enforce limits beyond the real limits of the field of study).

In a previous essay in this series, I considered the field of textual studies and how the practice of that discipline impacts on the question regarding the trustworthiness of the Bible [4]. I showed that the modernist roots of Biblical Criticism seriously undermines the so-called scientific study of the Bible. Textual studies can never be a science - it is a mere hermeneutic discipline. I showed how deeply flawed are some of the hermeneutic tools used in that discipline and how that impacted historically on the arguments against the trustworthiness of the Bible. I also made some proposals for a balanced approach to hermeneutical analysis which in some respects show exactly the opposite of that asserted in Biblical Criticism. In this essay, I proceed to consider the archaeological evidence. What does it say about the trustworthiness of the Bible?


1. Archaeological approaches to the Bible

When the first archaeologists set out to unearth the remains of ancient civilizations, some of them thought that it would be quite straightforward to "prove" the accuracy of the Bible. In time, however, it dawned on them that the archaeological study of history is not as easy as one might have originally thought it to be. One may ask: What amount of evidence is to be expected before historical accuracy is confirmed? The positivists of the time required positive proof before accepting anything written in the Bible. They thought that no evidence proves that such events did not happen. If archaeology is indeed an empirical science as was originally thought, then this is what one would expect. However, after the renewed efforts of the "New Archaeology" of the late 1960’s (also called "Processual archaeology") to finally obtain "objective" interpretations of the archaeological record, most archaeologists have come to the realization that this is not an achievable goal - it merely reflects the last convulsions of the modernist mindset. Archaeology is not an empirical science.

Why is archaeology not an empirical science? Although archaeologists work with empirical data, the context in which that data is found merely constitutes the "excavated reality", not the historical reality. Although the artefacts found in excavation belong to the historical world in which they were produced, the context of their appearance merely reflects the excavated situation. Whereas all empirical sciences work with an existing reality to which theoretical models are applied, the existing reality that archaeologists encounter in their excavations is not the historical reality that archaeologists try to reconstruct. The process of time has destroyed the historical reality that once existed. Even in cases where a city was suddenly destroyed and the artefacts are well preserved (as in the case of Pompey), the archaeological record is incomplete (for a more detailed discussion, see [3]).

All archaeological records are statistically incomplete (under-represented) due to the fact that there is an indeterminable gap between the excavated reality and the historical reality. Even when some hypothesis (theoretical model) agrees with the "excavated reality", there is absolutely no grounds to take it as necessarily also conforming with historical reality. The problem is not merely that our representations of reality always fall short of reality itself which may result in various interpretations about the nature of reality (as we find in the empirical sciences); it is that the representations that archaeologists work with are that of "excavated" reality which is forever disconnected from historical reality. Although we find a distantly similar situation in quantum physics, where the representative outcomes stand removed from the pre-measurement quantum states (existing reality), we do find in that case that the statistics of outcomes can be accurately determined.

Regardless of how carefully archaeologists prepare their digs, using all sorts of techniques to establish a good definition of the excavation, the data cannot be considered "evidence" in the same sense as experiments in the natural sciences or controlled studies in the social sciences. The reason is that there is absolutely no way in which archaeologists can determine to what extent their data is representative of the historical reality. One can never know if the accessible data is a statistically representative sample. In most cases, it obviously is not. Since it can often not be established that archaeological data does, in fact, represent a particular historical situation, how can general scientific conclusions be drawn from it?  It is not only possible but inevitable, that evidence has disappeared with time or that it has been severely damaged or reduced [5].

Another but related problem that archaeologists face concerns the connection between the evidence found in excavations and events mentioned in textual documents. When some artefact is found, how do we know how it is related to particular historical events if such artefacts bear no inscriptions? This issue is especially relevant in Biblical archaeology where artefacts are typically not inscribed - in contrast with the situation in, for example, Egyptian archaeology. In the empirical sciences, the causal relations between empirical data are used to determine its identity - in the natural sciences, for example, various methods are used to determine the identity of particles that one is studying. Insofar as the archaeological data lacks precise information (inscriptions), there is also a gap between the data and the historical events to which they belong. Although archaeologists are careful to reconstruct the context of all evidence, this is always open to various interpretations and bedevils the task of allocating data to particular periods and events.

I can give a somewhat extreme example to illustrate the point. One of the periods in history that fascinates me, is that of the Akkadian empire which constituted one of the greatest ancient Middle Eastern empires (~2350-2150 BC). In an excavation at Tell Brak in Syria, the remains of a palace of one of these kings, named Naram-Sin, was found. Under well-controlled circumstances the dendrochronologically derived dates for grain and charcoal samples from the preceding archaeological layer were found to differ substantially, giving dates of 2023 BC and 2662 BC respectively [7]. Since the material culture cannot be assigned with substantial accuracy, one can ask: To what date would this structure be dated if the king's name did not appear on the bricks of the palace?

Since 1) dendrochronologically obtained dates vary, 2) changes in the material culture often take place over relatively long periods of time (and cannot assign precise dates) and 3) the context in which artifacts are found are often differently interpreted, it is for the most part impossible to assign structures and artifacts with scientific precision to historical events. This is exactly the problem that archaeologists are confronted with in dating archaeological structures in Jerusalem or elsewhere in Israel. Scholarly consensus - when that exists - cannot replace scientific accuracy and is always open to reconsideration. When we have access to inscriptions there is a dramatic improvement in the possibility of assigning such items to historical persons and events.

This reality has led to a reaction against the modernist stream in archaeology. Today there is a strong postmodernist current, also called "Post-processual" archaeology, which accentuates the subjectivity of all interpretations (often such scholars are guided by the current "politically correct" social-political context). Often this results in the mere production and comparison of scholarly opinions without trying to arrive at substantial conclusions. But even in this case, certain interpretations which are in conflict with established notions (going back to the modernist period of this disciple) are still taboo.

These historical developments in archaeology have enormous implications for Biblical studies. When our expectations are wrong, when we wrongly think that all important events in the Bible should be sufficiently represented in the archaeological record, lack of such evidence would immediately lead to the wrong conclusion that the Bible is an untrustworthy source of history. One of the main reasons why Biblical Criticism scholars originally started doubting the historical accuracy of the Bible was that they held positivist expectations which are discarded today.

The problem, however, is that the conclusions arrived at during that modernist period in Biblical Criticism are still widely accepted in that field (such as the assertion that even those Biblical texts which seemingly describes history, are written long after such events and should be considered merely as propagandist discourse - for a detailed discussion, see [2]). Although one can accept that this is one way of approaching the Biblical texts and developing narratives as to how they came into being, this should not exclude the possibility of constructing narratives that take the Biblical stories seriously insofar as history is concerned - especially since the problem of historical verification does not necessarily lie with the texts but may be due to the nature of archaeological data.

When such narratives are found wanting in the context of good philosophical consideration one would in any case not expect them to make inroads into academic thinking - but the opposite is also true. In this essay I try to establish exactly this: in what manner may it be possible (if at all) to construe such narratives that can compete with those in which no relation between the stories and the historical events described is assumed (those typically developed in Biblical Criticism circles). Scholars should resist the temptation to exclude certain narratives merely because they contradict their scholarly approach - which may be coloured by the positivist roots out of which the scholarly paradigm evolved - and adamantly assert that certain events cannot under any circumstances be considered as historical. I assert that a balanced approach requires that that file is reopened.

In my view a balanced approach should not only be open to reconsidering such positions (and to rectify old mistakes), it should also say in what sense those approaches are especially applicable to the field of archaeology in contradistinction with the empirical sciences on the one hand and hermeneutical disciplines like textual studies on the other. Often practitioners of archaeology are influenced by the major philosophical trends (modernist or postmodernist) instead of developing tools that fit the unique features of archaeology. Although there are many streams in current archaeology (which for the most part concern Processual and Post-processual philosophy and the relation between them), in this study I do not reconsider these but rather develop a new approach which I believe is the best way to navigate between those extremes. I develop a Kantian approach to archaeology (in reference to the work of the philosopher Immanuel Kant), in which the conditions for the possibility of obtaining trustworthy narratives are considered. In the process, I develop certain basic archaeological principles to guide good judgment. These can then be used in the discussion concerning the historicity of the Bible. (I used a similar approach previously with regard to textual studies [4]).

2. Basic principles of archaeology

As said, the challenge is to navigate our way between the extremes of modernism and postmodernism. The modernist view asserts that evidence of certain persons and events would be represented in the archaeological record if those persons and events mentioned in the literary tradition really existed/happened. The postmodernist view does not merely think that we cannot make such assertions; it also thinks that many different but nonetheless valid historical narratives can be reconstructed. They accentuate the fact that many interpretations of the archaeological record and the related texts are possible. The question is whether it is possible to reconstruct "better" interpretations in accordance with some basic principles which can discriminate between those interpretations that can be accepted and those that should be discarded? Then the next question would be: to what extent do the Biblical narratives align with such "better" interpretations? To what extent can the historicity of Biblical events be accepted within the framework of good interpretation?

2.1 Taking the workings of the justice system as a point of departure

Since archaeology is not an empirical science, the question to ask would be: What would constitute a good methodological process in this field? Should we regard archaeology as a hermeneutical (interpretative) discipline on the same footing as, say, textual studies? Although archaeology involves interpretation, and there is a school of thought which think that a good approach constitutes at least working in analogy with the interpretation of texts - i.e. considering the archaeological "record" as a kind of text - the problem of ascribing artifacts to particular events (see above) implies a certain indeterminacy beyond that found in texts (in texts events are clearly delineated in the sense of providing details associated therewith). It seems to me that archaeology, in general, should have a differentiated approach particular to itself.

In my view, the justice system provides us with the best approach. In this case, various kinds of sources of information are available to the court which eventually makes some judgment concerning the case at hand. Both the manner in which the information is presented and the manner in which it is evaluated can serve as guidelines in archaeological studies. Regarding judgment, what is necessary, is good, practical judgment. From a philosophical point of view, one may recall the Aristotelian concept of "practical reason" (phroneses) which involves the everyday, practical use of reason. One can also ask what conclusions the "reasonable man" would come to - not the "academic" man who is often too confident in the framework of his own paradigmatic commitment.

The information available to the court includes 1. forensic evidence, 2. witness testimony and 3. expert testimony. This closely resembles the information available in archaeological studies. Forensic evidence has its counterpart in archaeological evidence. In both cases, this constitutes the physical data that is to be used in our interpretation of events. In both cases, great care is taken to reconstruct the scene of events (the crime scene or the excavation). The difference is that forensic evidence often involves very precise data, like DNA, which is much more difficult to obtain in archaeological excavation (maybe not in a general sense but in a particular sense). Also, forensic evidence is taken within a contemporary context in which the reality of events can be much easier reconstructed. The detective lives in the reality of the society in which the crime has been committed; the archaeologist is forever removed from the historical reality of events. Assessing archaeological data is, therefore, more difficult than assessing forensic evidence (Think of the difference that DNA testing has made in forensic science and how many people that were previously convicted were subsequently shown to be innocent! What does this say of archaeology?). 

Witness testimony finds its equivalent in literary texts. In the same manner that witnesses provide written testimony regarding events, so the authors of texts provide testimony regarding historical events (that is when texts with such characteristics are considered). In both cases it is important to establish the credibility of the witness: were they physically present, do they contradict themselves etc. The integrity of the witness is of central importance in deciding whether to accept testimony. In the case of ancient texts like the Bible, the issue is much more complicated. The authors cannot be examined personally. Such authors, nonetheless, sometimes mention their sources or manner in which they obtained the information which could reinforce their credibility.

I have previously argued that the Biblical Criticism approach, under both modernist and postmodernist influences, has imposed a contemporary perspective on the texts [4]. In imposing our view regarding their view on the texts, the integrity of the authors and the tradition from which they came have not been respected. This goes against the very grain of good hermeneutics as formulated by philosophers like Gadamer who asserts the importance of approaching the text with an openness, in which the opinions of both the author and tradition in which he/she operates are valued. He wrote regarding tradition: "I must allow tradition's claim to validity, not in the sense of simply acknowledging the past in its otherness, but in such a way that it has something to say to me" [8]. I argued that we should not merely discard the authors' position and the sources that they claim to have used in construing their narratives just because we do not agree with them. I also developed hermeneutical principles that should guide readers in the interpretation of texts [4].

Another important kind of testimony is provided by expert witnesses. These are typically scholars who are masters of their particular fields. This is, however, not always the case. Sometimes such testimonies are biased and even unscientific. Although the public and even the courts often trust such testimonies, they are sometimes ripped to pieces under cross-examination. In South-Africa, there was an interesting case in recent years where an expert witness whose testimony was uncritically accepted in one murder case, was taken apart in another such case. 

The same can be said about scholars who provide expert "testimonies" in the field of archaeology or textual studies. In these fields of study, there is no such thing as an objective perspective - all scholars are situated within a particular academic paradigm [9] which adheres to certain presuppositions, they also bring their own background, preconceived ideas and preferences to the text [2]. When the metaphysical view of the scholar is in conflict with those of the authors of the texts that he/she interprets, this could even be regarded as a conflict of interest. In this case, the role of the "expert" may correspond more with that of an attorney or prosecutor who takes a critical stand towards the witnesses of their opposition. 

The primary question is: What does a good judgment consist of? In a judgment, witness testimony is evaluated against forensic data in a context elucidated by the expert witnesses. On a broader sense, the various narratives constructed by the prosecution and defence are considered in the light of such evaluations. When the narrative under consideration is in substantial agreement, the "truth" thereof is assumed. Substantial disagreement would, on the contrary, establishes falsity. Of special interest are those cases where none of these can be established. The main goal of the defence is to show that guilt cannot be established above a reasonable doubt. This means that various narratives are possible (the court cannot decide among them), some of which would constitute the innocence of the accused. 

When such judgments are to be made in archaeology, the situation is slightly different. There is a certain distance (some distortion) between the world (reality) in which we construct our narratives and the world (reality) in which the events happened and the texts were written (see above). The question is if this means that no truth judgments can be made due to the incomplete and indeterminate nature of archaeological data? Is there no manner in which the given distortion can be overcome - even in a very weak sense? In fact, we can confirm that even though archaeological data is statistically incomplete it may sometimes provide good representations of historical situations (Pompey etc.) and also that indeterminacy does not involve all data - we sometimes have inscriptions that provide determinate outcomes. Although we can agree that truth in the sense of court judgments is not an obtainable goal, we may ask if there is any manner in which the trustworthiness of historical narratives (based on textual information) in the framework of archaeological parameters can be established. 

Can we go beyond the indeterminate position (when the court cannot decide) where many possible narratives may be accommodated (accentuating the mere subjectivity of interpretation)? In my view, we can go beyond that. We can establish rational principles (similar to the concept of the "reasonable man") which allow us to articulate the coherence of certain historical narratives in the sense that some positive agreement between the information in texts (provided by both authors and the traditions from which they originate) and the data can be established. This obviously does not mean that the objective truth of such narratives is established; it merely means that within the framework of our constrained conditions we can use practical reason to distinguish between well-argued truthful historical narratives and their alternatives in accordance with such principles [10]. 

Before I proceed to present such principles, one should ask: What about the judge? Who is the judge that should consider the evidence, listen to arguments, evaluate the testimonies etc? Often people think that only the "experts" are in a position to judge such matters. But how can that be? This means that the expert witness would also be the judge! He/She obviously cannot present a neutral position as one finds in the natural sciences since his/her discipline is not an empirical science. The person who should judge is the informed reader. So often we do not think for ourselves and merely follow others in their opinions. When it comes to good, practical judgment - the best person who can do that is indeed those who read widely and considers all positions carefully. Those who consider not merely the evidence, but also the methods and limits of those disciplines in which "experts" derive their opinions in the field of archaeology or textual studies. 

2.2 Archaeological principles for judgment 

This brings me to the principles for judgment themselves. From a Kantian perspective, we can think of these as principles grounded in our basic rational structure. I merely extend the basic Kantian principles for obtaining knowledge to an archaeological context. In a systematic sense these include 1) relations (transmission) in space/time, 2) the relation between objects given in perception and our conceptual structures (theoretical models in archaeology, construed narratives) and 3) those relations between perceived objects in time which allow us to discriminate particular events from "background" noise [11]. These principles are used both in the process of establishing narratives and in evaluating them. 

1. Consider the role of tradition. In my opinion, the role of tradition is not nowadays adequately accentuated in archaeological studies (it seems to have gone out of fashion with the idea of "cultural history"). What is often accentuated, is not the long tradition in which certain ideas and artistic motifs are handed over from generation to generation within a particular community, but the agreement between the material forms and iconography within the same region during the same period (that is, including all the various cultural groups in that region, for example, in the ancient Middle East). One reason for this is practical - often there are relatively few artefacts available and comparing them seems to be the natural thing to do. Another reason is that some kind of diffusion between groups within the same region is often assumed and called upon to explain correspondences.

The problem, however, with this approach is that it is not always good practice and can be philosophically unsound. One finds, for example, that scholars often accentuate agreements but not differences (maybe in support of some theoretical model). The problem is that the differences may, in fact, accentuate the different cultural traditions involved whereas the agreements may be due to some early influence common to all the cultural traditions concerned. This immediately means that internal cultural traditions are more important than the fact that those cultures share the same region at the same time. This does not exclude spatial diffusion of ideas, technique, and iconography - it, however, requires that the stages associated with such diffusion and the changes involved, be clearly delineated.

Although archaeological education, for the most part, does not involve philosophy (except in the framework of theoretical archaeology), the work of prominent philosophers may have special application to this aspect of archaeology. In this regard, the accentuation of tradition by philosophers like Martin Heidegger and Hans-Georg Gadamer is especially important. Although all the scholarly disciplines that originated in the modernist period grew out of a milieu of strong reaction against (Christian) tradition, and tradition is much easier changed in contemporary society due to the use of mass media, these philosophers accentuated the important role that tradition play. This is especially important when ancient societies are studied. Heidegger captured this by his concepts of "thrownness" (the spiritual and material, historically conditioned environment) and "fallenness" (present situatedness). Gadamer accentuated that the hermeneutic experience as an insertion into a world of relations and meanings (tradition). 

In contrast with the situation in textual studies, where I previously asserted the importance of synchronic (unified in time) over diachronic (distinguishing the parts and their singular histories) approaches and thus valuing the unity of texts as produced by one author, in the field of archaeology the exact opposite is true: we should give preference to diachronic approaches that consider the traditions in which ideas and motifs have been transmitted within the same coherent cultural community over synchronic approaches which try to find commonality between groups within the same geographical and temporal zones. Both processes are often in interaction leading to adaptations in tradition (Gadamer said a lot about the power of renewal in tradition). 

2. Texts and artefacts. The basic problem in archaeology is to relate artefacts, which in a certain sense stand apart from both the historical reality as well as the information from that period (insofar as these are not inscribed), with the historical narratives that are construed from the texts. Without the texts, the artefacts merely present general data (which can only be interpreted in the most general terms); without the artefacts, the information in the texts is only stories (unconfirmed accounts from the distant past). Historical narratives are formulated when these are integrated in some manner [12]. 

Some take a very critical attitude: they fundamentally doubt the reliability of the information in texts even though such texts tell stories about such events (this is especially true in the case of Biblical texts where these are often assumed to have been written too late to say anything meaningful about such events). This view has its origin in the indeterminate nature of archaeological data (which is often wrongly taken to imply that the problem lies with the narratives in the texts). Others believe the information in the texts; they often fit the data uncritically to those narratives. 

What would constitute "good" narratives? Of central importance in this regard is 1) the context in which the data is found, 2) the general context of the period in which the events happened and 3) the context in which the texts were written. The context determines how the data and texts are to be integrated. The more information we have regarding all these areas the more accurate is our narratives regarding those events. Often different possible contexts can be reconstructed in which the events and the stories about it came into being. This is one of the major dividing factors in constructing narratives. Often traditional scholars would place the time of writing in an early context whereas Biblical Criticism scholarship would place it much later. 

I have previously asked how this problem can be solved and proposed that Gadamer's insights may be helpful [4]. Insofar as we acknowledge that our data is incomplete (in the sense of it being removed from historical information) and do not know of any good reason to distrust the textual account, we should have an open attitude and be willing to really listen to the voices of the authors and the tradition from which they originate. We should not have an overly critical attitude which automatically assumes that the textual tradition is untrustworthy. I have criticized Biblical Criticism for not valuing the integrity of the Biblical authors and their tradition insofar as they impose(d) contemporary perspectives on the texts. In that manner, the voices of those ancient authors, who often assert that they are writing real history, have effectively been silenced. In this regard, the modernist roots of Biblical Criticism play a central role in their dating of Biblical texts [2].  

Gadamer challenges us to take the ancient authors serious except when we have good reason not to do so (see the discussion in [4])! This means that we should at least consider the possibility that the data could agree with the narratives as told by those authors. Even though many historical narratives might be possible, a historical narrative in which the ancient stories as told by the authors agree with the data in essential points is obviously preferable above others - insofar as the integrity of both the data and authors can be upheld.

3. The overall picture. In academic research, one can be so focused on a particular situation that one misses the overall picture - like the Indian guy who took the legs of the elephant for trees. Often the stories about historical events involve a variety of settings that constitute an overall picture. Although it might be impossible to relate data convincingly to particular stories (due to the incompleteness of archaeological data), the overall picture when all the data is taken into account might support the general thrust of such stories. In this case, we relate the patterns in the data with particular instances/events in the stories told by the authors. In this manner, we might compensate for the incompleteness of the individual archaeological data in reconstructing historical narratives. 

All judgments through which historical narratives (which consider both the contexts of historical events as well as how the texts came into being) are brought under these principles are always coloured by some metaphysical paradigm. Nobody can absolve him/her from their own metaphysical commitments. This is also why Biblical archaeology is such a loaded field - the Bible is always in some manner regarded in metaphysical terms. This may involve the belief in the Bible as the Word of God or the critical standpoint that regard it as a mere book among other books (there is no neutral ground, especially insofar as questions of divine inspiration or intervention are concerned - but this issue is not included in the present discussion). This means that, even when we use good philosophical principles, there would never be general agreement on these issues. What is, however, obtainable, is some agreement as to what constitutes "better" narratives in accordance with these principles even though this would always be a contentious matter in the same manner that court decisions are. Insofar as the Biblical narratives (which are actually our reconstruction of those narratives) can be shown to agree with these principles we can regard them as a trustworthy account of history.

3. Re-reading the Bible

We can now focus in more detail on the Biblical material. I would like to consider the most problematic aspects of the story about the history of Israel as told in the Bible, namely the "ancient history" (Gen. 2-11), the patriarchal history (in the rest of the Book of Genesis) and the Mosaic history (especially regarding the exodus). In general, these histories are not taken seriously by contemporary Biblical Criticism scholars and archaeologists. I would like to re-evaluate them in this essay in the light of the previous discussion. Since space does not allow an in-depth discussion, I merely give the markers for constructing sensible narratives - such narratives would require a much more detailed discussion.

The "ancient" history tells a story that stretches from the time of Adam and Eve until Abraham's calling in Sumer [for a discussion of Adam and Eve, see [13]). The patriarchal history tells the story of Abraham's migration to Canaan and his stay there as well as that of the next two generations (Isaac and Jacob). The story of the Exodus tells how Israel, who since the time of Joseph (son of Jacob), sojourned in Egypt, was led out by Moses and how they eventually entered the land of Canaan where they lived thereafter. These three kinds of history are chosen because they provide examples of the application of the mentioned archaeological principles. 

We can ask: what kind of history is the "ancient history"? This story primarily concerns a tradition about events that played off in the distant lands of Israel's past. What is interesting is that it has a very special and distinct character, even when considered in the framework of the Book of Genesis as a whole (see [4]). I have previously shown [4] that its essential features correspond closely with that of the Sumerian King List (lists of genealogies, very long lifetimes, short descriptions of events, same Mesopotamian setting etc.). It includes a lot of material which clearly originated in ancient Mesopotamia (Sumer). In fact, all this material goes back to the early second millennium BC - there is absolutely no material from later periods included (see my arguments in this regard in [4]). This suggests that the ancient history might contain ancient Sumerian material in accordance with the claim that their forefather originated in that land. 

This Sumerian hypothesis directly contradicts the generally accepted Babylonian hypothesis according to which this tradition was fabricated during the Babylonian exile. According to the first view, the stories may have some ground in historical events in ancient Sumer; according to the second view they have absolutely no historical significance and should be considered in the framework of the Babylonian exile and post-exile period. As such the Babylonian material is thought to have originated in Babylon during the exile and the sources used in this part of the Book of Genesis should be considered in the framework of that time (for a detailed discussion of the theory of the sources of the Pentateuch, see [2, 4]).  

The difference between the Sumerian and Babylonian hypotheses is that archaeologically speaking, the first follows a diachronic approach in which tradition is valued whereas the second discard the idea of early traditions being handed down through the centuries. If tradition plays an important role in the transmission of such ideas in accordance with the work of Heidegger and Gadamer, this might imply that the Sumerian hypothesis is to be preferred above the competitive hypothesis. The first principle underlies this - and ask that we should have at least an openness towards the possibility that such tradition could be grounded in traditions and events in the ancient land of Sumer. 

When we find good general agreement between the ancient history in the Book of Genesis and the Sumerian tradition, and can even construct a sensible history of ancient Sumer in line with these traditions, then it seems reasonable to think that those traditions go back the same original tradition which evolved out of the historical situation in ancient Sumer. One may even assert - surely in the face of strong objection coming from a paradigmatically constrained archaeological community - that the ancient history is correct in essential respects. I discuss the issue in some detail in my book Abraham en sy God (2012, Griffel).

In this book I show that a sensible narrative can be constructed according to which the events mentioned in the ancient history (Adam, Enoch, the flood, early origins in the land of Ararat, Nimrod, the building of the Tower of Babel and the subsequent confusion etc.) are taken as referring to events mentioned in ancient Sumerian sources (Adapa, Etana, the flood, early origins in the land of Aratta, Enmerkar, the building projects during the Uruk period at Uruk and Eridu, etc.). What is remarkable, and in my view excludes the possibility of later borrowing, is that this does not merely constitute a detailed agreement between traditions (although there are also differences as can be expected from the parallel transmission of traditions), but that these traditions constitute a perspective on ancient Sumerian history that is very much in line with archaeological evidence (it is only in the Biblical tradition that they are also clearly ordered in a manner closely corresponding with archaeological evidence).

In this reconstruction, I have taken the "flood" as referring to the flood layer visible at Ur, Eridu, Uruk and elsewhere in Sumer from about 4000 BC [14] when the sea inundated the land [15, 16]. This layer provides the only important break in the continuity of the Mesopotamian material culture when the transition between the Ubaid and Uruk Periods occurred. According to the Sumerian texts, the family who ruled Sumer in the subsequent period originated in the land of Aratta (taken to be the Biblical Ararat). There is a remarkable correspondence between this family and the Cush family of the Bible. One can, for example, consider the Sumerian Enmerkar and Biblical Nimrod as referring to the same historical figure (if such a historical figure behind these traditions is allowed). The "Tower of Babel" is taken as referring to the ancient shrine at Eridu which was rebuilt by Enmerkar according to the literary tradition. Both the name (Nun.ki) and mythology of Eridu were later taken over by Babylon. The confusion of languages, which is mentioned in both traditions (Gen. 11; "the Incantation of Nudimmud"), can be grounded historically in the context of the introduction of the first phonetic writing at the end of the Uruk period [17]. This constitutes the basic markers for a sensible historical narrative about events in early Sumer [18].

Insofar as the patriarchal history is concerned, the most important figure is Abraham. There is also a general academic consensus that Abraham does not refer to a historical person and that the stories about him are totally unhistorical. But is that a well-argued position? Or is it merely accepted within the framework of an academic paradigm in which such thinking is taboo? According to my second principle, we should at least (as a mere hypothesis) allow for the possibility that the story told in the texts could, in fact, be grounded in history. If we do not do that, we would open ourselves to the accusation that we exclude certain possibilities in accordance with our own preconceived ideas - that we do not really consider the possibility that the author and the tradition from which he originates, valued integrity in their handing down of historical data. As such, he could have used material, even written material, handed down to him in writing his narrative.

I have previously mentioned that the fact that the Abrahamic story involves so many oracles presents a very strong case for thinking that these were in fact handed down in written form in the framework of an accompanying account of the context of those events [4]. The reason for this assumption is that we find elsewhere in the same area in the same period that such oracles were indeed written down (in Mari). The reason for writing down oracles is that their divine origin was taken seriously and necessitated their careful conservation. We also find in the western Semitic tradition in Mari and elsewhere that the context in which such oracles were given, is often recorded (especially insofar as the kings were concerned). In this regard, one should remember that Abraham is also depicted as a "mighty prince" (Gen. 23:6; 14).

When considering the Abrahamic narrative, there are especially two events that stand out that may have been prominent enough to have found their way into other sources than the Bible. The first is the Elamitic incursion into northern Syria and Palestine (Gen. 14) and the second Abraham's visit to Egypt where some interaction with the royal court is mentioned which may have resulted in it being recorded (the Egyptian king wanted to take Abraham's wife for himself; Gen. 12:10-20). Regarding the Elamitic incursion, we know today from Elamitic sources that such an incursion into northern Syria did in fact occur. This happened in 1822 BC according to the so-called high chronology of Mesopotamia during the reign of Siwe-palar-huppak, king of Elam (1826-1799 BC). According to Elamite sources the king's brother Kudu-zulus, king of Susa, was previously involved in incursions to the west and it is possible that he may have played an important role in leading this one as well [19].

This date corresponds remarkably well with the period when Abraham is said to have lived according to the Septuagint [20] - he is said to have left Haran for Canaan in 1837 BC, which implies that the incursion took place 15 years later which fits the Biblical narrative very well. Of special interest is the name of the king who led the incursion according to the Bible, namely Chedor-laómer (Kedor-laómer). The root of the first part of this name clearly agrees with that of Kudu-zulu, namely k-d. It seems to me astonishing that an author who is thought to have had no access to historical sources could have had the fact of the incursion, the date thereof as well as the name of the leading king correct! Although many details of the Biblical account cannot be confirmed (this is the nature of archaeological data) the essential elements are clearly correct.

Regarding Abraham's visit to Egypt, there is an Egyptian depiction at Beni-Hasan that may, in fact, have recorded this visit. In this depiction, the visit of Canaanite Semites led by one Abi-shai/r (the same Amoritic name-type as "Abraham") is recorded to have taken place in the sixth year of the Egyptian king Senuseret II. An astronomical recording of the helical rising of the star Sirius in the time of his successor Senuseret III enables us to calculate the date of this visit, namely 1836 BC [21]. This agrees so closely with the date that Abraham is said to have come to Egypt (if we accept that Abraham came directly to Egypt after leaving Haran, 1837) that we can accept at least that there is a strong possibility that the depiction may, in fact, be that of Abraham and his entourage. Although this can obviously not be proven (how much from that period can be proven - very little!), these two events clearly provide good reasons to reconsider the accepted scholarly opinion. Even though other views may be formulated as to how this story originated, the remarkable historical confirmation of a key historical event (or: events) provide support for taking this patriarchal story as reflecting historical events and constructing a narrative in line with that.

In the last instance, I consider the story of the exodus. The manner in which this history is related in the Pentateuch and the Book of Joshua may indicate that it presents a more substantial kind of historical writing than the "ancient history" and even the patriarchal history. One may argue that, if these events really happened, they would have left a very deep impression on the Israelite psyche which may account for the fact that they were so often referred to throughout Israel's later history. As such one may expect that written accounts of these events could have circulated shortly after the events themselves in accordance with the claims made in this regard in the mentioned writings. The main reason why this history is doubted is that the kind of evidence that is often expected (due to positivist attitudes) is not available to substantiate these stories.

Once we become aware of the problematic nature of archaeological evidence (and especially how this relates to the issue of migration, see [3]) we may ask what can be reasonably expected. The Sinai desert is truly a "terrible" place and one can think that remains left to the desert heat and storms would have been greatly diminished through the ages. At this point we may call upon the third principle discussed above, namely to consider the overall picture of the story of Israel's migration from Egypt to Canaan and see if the evidence from all areas over this period support the general thrust of the story. 

When we consider all the evidence from the period that Israel is said to have sojourned in Egypt to their presence in the land, we find various bits that are in agreement with the Biblical narrative. There are depictions of Semitic slaves producing bricks and being hit by sticks from the time of king Thutmose III from the eighteenth century (1479-1425 BC) when Israel is said to have lived under such conditions in Egypt. Then there is the evidence of the destruction of Jericho which resulted in it being left uninhabited for a long period of time as mentioned in the Bible (Jos. 6:26; 1 Kings 16:34). Although Kathleen Kenyon argued that the original dating to ca. 1400 BC should be adjusted to ca. 1550 BC which would have excluded its destruction by the Israelites, more recently Bryant Wood argued that she made certain mistakes and that the original date was, in fact, correct (see the discussion by Hoffmeier [22]). This date fits perfectly with the Biblical dating of events.

Regarding the conquest of the land of Canaan, Hoffmeier [22] proposes that we discard W. F. Albright's dramatic version and merely subscribe to a "limited conquest of key sites in strategic areas" in accordance with the information given in Joshua 11:3 and Exodus 23:29-30. In this case only Jericho, Ai and Hazor were burned by the Israelites. Although the date of the burning of Hazor is somewhat uncertain, it might be related to those events (see [3] for the somewhat problematic nature of dendrochronological dating). When the name "Israel" occurs (for the first and only time) in an Egyptian inscription of 1208 BC by king Merneptah, son and successor of Ramesses II, the Israelites were already in the land of Canaan. In this period a dramatic increase in agriculturally-based settlements from the late Bronze Age is observed in Israel with 93% of these being new ones. This would agree with Israel's settlement in the land [22]. If we allow that the exodus occurred in ca. 1400 BC even the monotheistic reforms of Akhenaten of the Eighteen Dynasty (1352-1336 BC) may be regarded in this context.    

In my view, we can use the principles presented above to construct historical narratives for all periods of Israel's history in accordance with the Biblical literary tradition. In this approach, the books that contain stories about the history of Israel are not taken as being written long after the events and therefore as having no relation to the archaeological evidence. In fact, it rejects that approach as being misguided in ascribing all sorts of agendas and intentions to the Biblical authors which are in conflict with philosophical hermeneutics which deny that we can do that in any meaningful manner (see [1, 4]). Also, the positive outcome of the application of the mentioned archaeological principles to those stories, show that we are justified in taking them seriously as referring to real persons and events.

My view takes the statements of the Biblical authors and the historical character of the various books serious when they tell us that they wrote history. Although it is obviously impossible to prove that Israel's history evolved in that manner, one can construct historical narratives that are not only sensitive to the voices of both the authors and the traditions represented in the texts but which also account for the positive agreement with archaeological evidence. If we can do that for all the kinds of history in the Book of Genesis, I think we can accept that we can do it for the rest of the Bible.

When we make practical judgments regarding such narratives, we evaluate them in the light of the agreement between the textual information and the available archaeological data within the context of the ancient world in which they originated. In this regard, we take the distance (distortion) between our world and theirs into account. We ask what can reasonably be expected when this aspect is incorporated in our analysis. Then we ask whether our analysis tends toward agreement or disagreement - whether there may be data that contradicts the information in the texts. In this regard, I would like to challenge any scholar to present evidence which constitutes substantiate disagreement with the textual accounts for any period in Biblical history (which is generally agreed as not being due to interpretation)!

If this possibility is discarded, we can ask if we can do better than merely accepting that any amount of narratives can be construed depending on the contexts assumed. I have argued that we can move to a positive assertion that the Biblical narrative is trustworthy in the framework of archaeological parameters. I believe that the application of good archaeological principles show that well-argued historical narratives can be construed even when all the constraints are taken into consideration. When no positive outcomes can be established, the contexts in which the data and texts may have originated multiply - but even in that case, good hermeneutical principles should guide our judgment regarding the origin of the historical data in texts [4, 23].

Conclusion

In this essay, I brought the question regarding the trustworthiness of the Bible as a source of history under the searchlight. This is an extremely difficult issue and any fast pronunciations in this regard should be frowned upon. I showed that the traditional positivist stance in the disciplines of archaeology and textual studies have greatly muddled the issue. The current postmodernist approaches are also not very helpful. I developed a Kantian approach to archaeology in which the justice system is taken as the point of departure in understanding what is going on in archaeology. I showed how we can construct certain basic archaeological principles which would allow us to articulate the coherence of certain historical narratives in the sense that some positive agreement between the information in texts (provided by both authors and the traditions from which they originate) and the data can be established. 

I applied these principles to three kinds of historical writing found in the Bible, namely the "ancient history" in Genesis 2-11, the patriarchal histories told later in that book and the Mosaic writings. I argue that even when we work with a tradition that was handed down in the early period of Israel's history (which is what I assert), we can obtain a remarkably good fit with the parallel Sumerian tradition and even the archaeological reconstruction of Sumerian history. Although I did not discuss the manner of such transmission in any detail, I show that sensible historical narratives may be construed in agreement with those traditions. I did the same for later periods in Israel's history. 

In the end, I argued that the historical narratives obtained when the Biblical texts are taken seriously regarding their historical information show good agreement with archaeological data when one considers the incomplete and indeterminate nature of that data. Although other narratives may be construed that understand the texts in a totally different manner, I believe that the narratives construed in the manner that I propose have certain advantages above other narratives which are not always conducted in accordance with good philosophical practice.

[1] The critiques that I wrote [2, 3] should not be regarded as merely criticizing those disciplines; rather, it is to be taken as an evaluation of the limits of the legitimate use of those disciplines. I have something similar to Kant's Critique of Pure Reason in mind in which he produced such a critique of pure reason. In those essays, I merely analyzed academic practice; I did not introduce positive proposals of my own. This is what I do in this essay as well as [4].
[5] There are also other reasons why archaeology cannot be considered to be an empirical science, for example, that excavations are non-repeatable experiences (in contrast with experiments in the natural sciences). Although it could be compared with similar excavations elsewhere, it could never be the same. The fact that it is a one-off experience implies that it is after all also a personal (individually and socially) experience for those involved - it is not necessarily so that other archaeologists would have arrived at the same conclusions. One can mention many examples of different interpretations of the same archaeological excavations and data. Vance Watrous's made a powerful statement in this regard: "[O]ne of the most interesting things about archaeological material, is you get the same object, you get three archaeologists, you come up with three different interpretations based on that" [6]. Although we find in some interpretations of quantum physics also that the observer is considered to be part of the experiment (Von Neumann's interpretation), such experiments are repeatable. In that case, the differences in interpretation consider the reality behind such experiments; in archaeology, the differences in opinion are closely related to the experience of the excavation itself which always concerns the "excavated realty". For a more detailed discussion, see [3].
[6] Watrous, L. Vance. 1998. Egypt and Crete in the Early Middle Bronze Age: A Case of Trade and Cultural Diffusion. In Cline, E. H. and Harris-Cline, D. (eds.), The Aegean and the Orient in the Second Millennium, Liège: Université de Liège.
[7] Oates, Joan. 1985.  Tell Brak and Chronology: The Third Millennium. Mari Annales de Recherches Interdisciplinaires 4:137-144.
[8] Gadamer, Hans-Georg. 1994. Truth and Method (translation revised by Joel Weinsheimer and Donald G. Marshall, second, revised ed.). New York: Crossroad. Gadamer is one of the most important philosophers of hermeneutics of the twentieth century.
[9] Kuhn, Thomas S. 1962. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions.
[10] In the Critique of the Power of Judgment, Kant developed a manner of judgment which is to be used in situations where our constrained understanding cannot make determinate judgments. He calls such judgments "reflective" judgments. These are not judgments of truth; one can maybe call them rational "estimations". This form of judgment may play a role in deciding between historical narratives where one cannot be established as trustworthy above the others.
My idea of rational archaeological principles corresponds with the concept of the "reasonable man" in the justice system. This allows us to reach a certain level of determinacy that is not objective (as in the sciences), but which can nonetheless distinguish "better" from "worse" narratives (i.e. that a narrative can be regarded as truthful). At the same time, this judgment cannot distinguish between various possible "better" narratives. Something similar characterizes the justice system when the acceptance of some narrative as truthful, may allow for many variations to that narrative that cannot be decided. This, however, does not influence the basic acceptance of the truthfulness of such narratives. When we decide between "better" narratives (interpretations) we use reflective judgment.
[11] My approach is constructed in analogy to the basic Kantian approach which is concerned with the possibility, conditions and limits of human knowledge. As such I regard the human endeavour in archaeology as an extension of basic human experience; the same principle, therefore, applies, although in more complex form. On the most basic level this involves 1) perceiving things in space/time, 2) combining concepts and intuitions (these are grounded in our discursive kind of intellect which involves both these faculties), 3) establishing the necessary relation between perceived objects in space/time, that is, real events (in this regard Kant's second analogy in the Critique of Pure Reason is of special importance). 
[12] We can compare the archaeological process of bringing data in some relation with texts (conceptual constructs) with the Kantian understanding of everyday human experience (and by extension, with scientific experiment) according to which data given in an empirical intuition is brought under concepts. My formulation (see above) "without the texts the artifacts merely present general data; without the artefacts the information in the texts is only stories" is formulated in analogy to the Kantian insight: "Thoughts without intuitions are empty, intuitions without concepts are blind" which can be reformulated as follows: without concepts intuitions are blind; without intuitions (through which data is given in perception) concepts are empty. Both are necessary for empirical knowledge (or to establish viable narratives in archaeology). 
There are two general interpretations of Kant's philosophy which correspond closely with the two approaches discussed in my essays (this one and [4]), namely the one followed in Biblical Criticism (and in archaeology insofar as these collaborate) and the one advocated here in accordance with Gadamer's work. The first is called the two-object approach and involves imposing concepts on the "raw" data in the world; the second is called the two-aspect approach and involves a judgment in which the empirical intuitions of objects are brought under concepts (rules). In this last case, both the empirical intuitions and concepts have their own individuality, the first is determined by the order in the world and the second is determined by the construction of conceptual models (these can be called a posteriori and a priori determinations).  
In the same manner that the two-object view thinks in terms of concepts imposed on raw data, Biblical Criticism has in the past imposed their own perspective (modernist or post-modernist - see [4]) on historical texts and data. All phenomenological approaches do the same. In the same manner that the two-aspect view values the individuality of both conceptual structures and empirical intuitions, my approach values both our current efforts to construct narratives as well as the voices of the authors and traditions from which they originate. The Kantian play between concepts and empirical intuitions (both of which involve apprehension, namely conceptual and empirical) finds its hermeneutical equivalent in the play between reader and author and their respective horizons, or between our efforts to reconstruct their world and their historical world which is represented in data and texts. In the same way that things as they are "in themselves" (see [4]) do not disallow objective knowledge in the Kantian system, the fact that the ancient world is forever beyond our reach does not disallow the construction of sensible narratives regarding that world (in contrast with the post-modernist view that their world is forever lost (the author is "dead") which allow us to construct narratives in which our own concerns take center stage).    
In the two-aspect interpretation of Kant's philosophy, we use judgment to determine whether data given in empirical intuitions agree with concepts - which would then constitute knowledge (when the outcome is positive). One can, however, always analyze the data in a more substantial manner and also construct ever more sophisticated conceptual structures (i.e. theoretical models) - which is why knowledge is in effect always in progress. The difference between the Kantian understanding of everyday human experience (and scientific experiment) and archaeology lies in the indeterminate nature of archaeological data (in reference to historical reality) which results in various competing (instead of progressively more refined) narratives insofar as the same data is concerned. 
[14]  Howard-Carter, T. 1981. The Tangible Evidence for the Earliest Dilmun. Journal of Cuneiform Studies 33(3/4):210-223. 
[15] Larsen, C. 1975. The Mesopotamian Delta Region: A Reconsideration of Lees and Falcon. Journal of the American Oriental Society 95(1):43-57.
[16] Nutzel, W. 1979. On the Geographical Position of as Yet Unexplored Early Mesopotamian Culture: Contribution to the Theoretical Archaeology. Journal of Near Eastern Studies 99(2):288-296.
[17] Abraham en sy God (2012, Griffel).
[18] Van de Mieroop, M. 2005. King Hammurabi of Babylon: a biography. Oxford: Blackwell.
[19] My analysis has a lot in common with that of David Rohl but differs in many particular aspects. See Rohl, D. 1998. The Genesis of Civilization. London: Century.
[20] According to Josephus (Antiquities of the Jews, XV:2) and St. Paul (Gal. 3:16-17), both using the Septuagint, the period from Abraham's departure from Harran to the exile was 430 years. We read in the Septuagint: "Now the sojourning of the children of Israel, and their fathers, which they sojourned in the land of Canaan and the land of Egypt, was 430 years" (Ex. 12:40). According to the Septuagint, the period from the exodus to the commencement of the building of Salomon's temple in the fourth year of his reign was 440 years (1 Kings 6:1). Starting with the currently accepted date for the fourth year of Salomon, namely 967 BC we arrive at 1837 BC.
[21] Krauss, R. 1985. "Sothis- und Monddaten, Studien zur astronomischen und technischen Chronologie Altagyptens". Hildersheimer Agyptologische Beitrage 20. This calculation assumes that the observation took place at Elephantine in the south of Egypt. In my view, this dating together with the high chronology in Mesopotamia give the best results for an integrated dating of all periods in the ancient Middle East. I plan to present such a chronological outline in future
[22] Hoffmeier, J. K. 2008. The Archaeology of the Bible. Oxford: Lion.Hudson.
[23] In this essay I only consider historic archaeology; pre-historic archaeology is not considered. One may extend this approach to earlier periods when the role of texts in the formulation and evaluation of narratives is replaced by symbols. In this case, the hermeneutics of symbols (which are always to be considered in archaeology) supplants that of texts. Such hermeneutics may involve depth-psychology and the study of shamanism.

Author: Dr Willie Mc Loud. Posted on www.wmcloud.blogspot.com
The author has written a book on the Sumerian roots of the Bible (Abraham en sy God (Griffel, 2012)) and is a philosopher and scientist (PhD in Physics, MA in Philosophy). He writes on issues of religion, philosophy, science and eschatology. 
For a more in-depth discussion of the Book of Genesis, see the series of essays on it. Read also

Part 1. Can we still believe the Bible? A hermeneutical perspective 
Part 3. Can we still believe the Bible? A scientific perspective
Part 4. Can we still believe the Bible? A prophetic perspective

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