The Myth of Abraham and America’s Allegiance to Israel

2014-12-28T00:05:00+01:00

“We Ought to Support Israel because God Said So”

The Myth of Abraham and America’s Allegiance to Israel

by GARY LEUPP

Ex: http://www.counterpunch.org

Karl Marx once observed that ancient Greek art, rooted in Greek mythology, still constituted for modern people “a source of aesthetic enjoyment and in certain respects prevails as the standard and model beyond attainment.” He asked: “Why should the social childhood of mankind, where it has obtained its most beautiful development, not exert an eternal charm as an age that will never return?”

(In other words, even though Marx’s beloved Homer and Aeschylus were products of a society long extinct, its slave-owning class structure abhorrent to the modern mind, Greek myths still retain profound meanings for us in the age of industrial capitalism. Sigmund Freud, who posited the Oedipus and Elektra complexes, would of course agree.)

The story of Prometheus, for example, delighted the young Marx. Recall that Prometheus was the Titan who, having sided with Zeus and the gods of Mt. Olympus in the epochal battle with the other Titans at the dawn of time, later steals fire from Mt. Olympus and gives it to humanity. That, at least, is Hesiod’s account written about 700 BCE. In punishment for this generous act, Zeus and the other gods punish Prometheus by chaining him to a rock on a mountain in the Caucasus where an eagle visits daily to chew on his liver.

In his doctoral dissertation Marx declared this god “the most eminent saint and martyr in the philosophical calendar.” He quoted the words of Prometheus in Aeschylus’s play Prometheus Unbound: “In a word, I hate all the gods!” He interpreted Prometheus as a revolutionary boldly defying cruel, oppressive authority. I would say it’s a positive myth, promoting altruism and self-sacrifice.

The ancient Chinese myth of the winged “thousand-li horse” who gallops too swiftly for any man to mount, has been embraced by the North Koreans (in the form of Chollima) as a symbol of rapid economic development. I have no problem with this myth either.

I don’t really have a problem with the ancient Sumerian myth, as found in the Epic of Gilgamesh, in which the gods are so annoyed with human noisiness that they decide to wipe them (and all other life) out by a global flood. Fortunately the god Ea warns the righteous man Utnapishtim about what is going to happen and orders him to build a huge boat. Utnapishtim does so, and has his relatives and craftsmen, and “all the beasts and animals of the field” board the boat. Seven days and seven nights of rainfall follow. The boat lands on Mt. Nimush. When the rains end Utnapishtim sends out a dove to search for dry land; the bird returns. But the third bird dispatched does not return, signaling that the crisis was over.

Sound familiar? It is surely an early version of the myth of Noah and the Ark (Genesis 6:5-8:14), which is at least 1000 years younger. (The earliest Sumerian references to the flood myth appear during the Third Dynasty of Ur, ca. 2100-2000 B.C.) The biblical myth differs significantly in adapting the story to a monotheistic framework and making the issue human sin as opposed to boisterous clamor. The myth causes one to think about human vulnerability to natural disasters, and has of course been the inspiration of much western art and cinematography.

Dangerous Myths

But the Hebrew version includes a spin-off myth that is not so charming. This is the myth of Ham, one of Noah’s three sons, who after the Flood receives his father’s curse. Noah tells him that he (and by implication, his progeny) will be enslaved by his brother Shem (Genesis 9:20-27).

Why? Because Noah—“the first to plant the vine,” introducing wine to the world—was found passed out drunk and naked in his tent by Ham, who told his brothers, who covered Noah with a cloak. When Noah sobered up and realized what had happened, he (for some reason) declared that Ham will henceforth be “the meanest slave” of his brothers Shem and Japheth.

For centuries many Jews and Christians believed that all the world’s peoples were descended from these three brothers, who supposedly with their wives repopulated the planet beginning around 4300 years ago. Japheth was seen as the father of Europeans, and maybe some others; Shem, the father of Semites, and maybe Asian peoples in general; and Ham, the peoples of Cush, Put and Sheba among others—which is to say, black African peoples (Genesis 10:6-7).

The Jewish Midrash texts (composed from the fifth through fifteenth centuries) explained that the curse of Ham only applies to eldest son Cush and his descendents in sub-Saharan Africa. Among Muslim thinkers, the Persian Muhammad ibn Jaririr al-Tabari (839-923) and the famous North African world-traveler Ibn Khaldun (1332-1406) both repeated this myth linking Han to black slaves (although it doesn’t appear in the Qu’ran and plainly enters Islamic lore via medieval Jewish tradition).

For centuries he myth helped justify the traffic in African slaves of both Jewish and Muslim merchants in the Islamic world and beyond. (Some of these were referred to as Zanj—as in “Zanzibar”—and rose up in a great revolt around Basra in the ninth century.) By the early nineteenth-century, in the U.S.A. the Ham myth was part of the standard arsenal of arguments in support of slavery. It strikes me as a bad myth. It’s hard to think of one more pernicious.

But here’s another one: the myth of Samson, as we find in the Book of Judges, chapters 14 through 16. Samson is the last of the “judges” chosen by Yahweh (God) to lead his chosen people before the advent of the monarchy. He supposedly lives around 1000 BCE, although this account is composed maybe four centuries later.

You may know the story, if only from Sunday School, the 1949 Cecile B. DeMille film Samson and Delilah, recent novels by David Grossman and Ginger Gerrett, and countless artistic depictions.

Samson, according the Bible, is born to a hitherto barren woman and her husband after Yahweh appears to the woman in a dream and announces she will have a son who will “start rescuing Israel from the power of the Philistines” (Judges 13:5). (As you may know, the word “Philistine” is related to the word “Palestine.”) But she is to make sure that no razor ever touches his head; it becomes clear that his long hair is the source of his superhuman strength. God appears repeatedly to both husband and wife in dreams, and then in the flames of an altar sacrifice (13:20). The boy is born, given his name, and Yahweh blesses him.

This boy Samson grows up to be an extremely violent man. He craves a Philistine bride, refusing his family’s appeal that he wed a fellow Israelite. (They don’t realize that “all this came from Yahweh, who was seeking grounds for a quarrel with the Philistines, since at this time the Philistines dominated Israel,” 14:4.) En route to her home near the vineyards of Timnah, Samson is attacked by a lion that he tears apart with his bare hands. He visits the Philistine woman and while returning home revisits the lion carcass. He discovers that a swarm of bees has settled inside it and produced honey He takes some of this and presents it to his parents.

He contracts the marriage deal with the woman’s relatives, and arranges a great wedding feast. He is given an entourage of 30 Philistines, with whom he makes a sort of wager at the feast. He proposes that he give the men a riddle, and if they can solve it within seven days he will give them thirty pieces of linen and thirty festal robes. If they cannot, they will have to give the same to him. They agree, and (alluding to his recent feat, which he has kept secret) he asks them to explain this:

Out of the eater came what was eaten,
And out of the strong came what was sweet (14:14).

Unable to solve the riddle, the men go to Samson’s new wife and threaten to burn her and her father’s family to death if she doesn’t wheedle out the solution to it from her husband. She does so, and an enraged Samson, accusing the thirty of having “ploughed with my heifer,” goes on a rampage. He kills 30 innocent Philistines, stealing their clothes to pay the debt he’s incurred. When he returns with the loot, the father declares that in the interim he’d given his bride to another, Samson in another rage incinerates the Philistines’ cornfields, olive orchards and vineyards, using 300 foxes whose tails he sets on fire to achieve this task (15:5).

Philistines blaming the woman’s family for this disaster burn her and her relatives to death. They ask the Israelites to turn Samson over to them for punishment for the burning of their property, and the Israelites comply. But Samson using the jawbone of an ass he finds on the roadside kills 1000 of them, escapes, spends a night with a Philistine prostitute in a Gaza brothel, then destroys the gates of the town before leaving (16:1-3).

He then “falls in love” with another Philistine woman, Delilah. This character has of course has long been a popular culture trope for the back-stabbing woman (as for example in Tom Jones’ 1968 hit Delilah.)

Delilah famously betrays Samson to the Philistines by telling them the secret of his superhuman strength: his long hair. A barber shaves him while he’s drunk; the Philistines apprehend, blind, imprison, and humiliate him. But once his hair grows back Samson regains his strength and, when called to appear in the Philistines’ banquet hall in Gaza, stands between the pillars upholding it, pushes them apart and brings down the building. He thereby kills 3000 revelers as well as himself.

It is hard to find any redeeming quality in the story; it’s a celebration of a Yahweh-supported terrorist suicide attack against a people who had inhabited Canaan before the Israelites appeared on the scene. It depicts in the most favorable light the Israelite man’s usage of Philistine women to achieve God’s goal of destroying the Philistines to “rescue” Israel from their presence in the land. If seen through a modern lens, it’s a racist, misogynist celebration of egregious violence against humans, animals (the poor foxes!), and trees (the incinerated olive groves). It’s a horrible myth.

Military analysts in Israel today use the term “Samson Option” to refer to the use of Israel’s nuclear weapons in a future conflict. Perhaps some of them actually believe the story actually happened, and think what Samson did was totally cool. That should scare you.

And then there’s the very mother of destructive biblical myths: that of Abraham, and God’s vow to him that his descendants as the “Chosen People” (Deuteronomy 7:6) would inhabit what came to be called (by English Christians by the 1580s) the “Promised Land.” It is in some communities a deeply beloved myth. But it is a myth, and it has been used to justify intolerable cruelty.

A Comparison: the Japanese Creation Myth

Let me suggest a comparable myth. The Bible myth of the Promised Land is somewhat comparable to the Japanese creation story, according to which the Japanese islands were created by the god Izanagi and his consort Izanami, pacified by the grandson of the Sun Goddess Amaterasu, and governed thereafter by his descendents, a line of divine emperors unbroken from the dawn of time—or to quote the text of the Japanese constitution in effect from 1889 to 1945, a line “coeval with heaven and earth.” (Yes, the fundamental legal text of the country asserted that the Japanese imperial line had existed from the very dawn of cosmic time.)

For over six decades the official Japanese ideology of kokutai (national essence), built upon this mythology, stressed the unity between the state, the “pure” Japanese people, and the divine monarch descended from the Sun Goddess ruling over the divine islands and extending his benevolence to what for a time was called the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere. Is that disturbing?

The myths as they appear in the eighth century chronicles seem harmless enough. The primordial divine pair stands on the Floating Bridge of Heaven, stirring the waters below with a jeweled spear. As they raise the spear, the brine dripping off it solidifies into an island. They descend to the island, construct a pillar, walk around it in opposite directions, then meet and greet one another. The female Izanami asks the male Izanagi how his body is formed. He explains that it’s just as she sees, but there is a part formed to excess (his penis). He asks her the same question; she replies that there is a part of her formed insufficiently.

Izanagi then casually suggests that they unite the extra part of him with the insufficient part of her and thus “create the land.” She immediately agrees. Their copulation produces two islands that they consider failures. They return to heaven where a council of deities, consulting with diviners, conclude that things went wrong because the female spoke first.

They pair are commanded to return to the island and try again. This time they produce islands and all manner of things, mostly from their limbs. But Izanami’s genitals burn as she gives birth to the fire-god and she dies, winding up in the Land of Yomi, a type of netherworld. An enraged Izanagi chops off the head of his newborn son, whose blood becomes volcanoes. After visiting Yomi and trying in vain to return his now maggot-ridden wife to the land of the living, Izanagi returns to earth and bathes in a river to purify himself after exposure to great defilement. He produces the Sun Goddess from one of his eyes and her mischievous younger brother Susanoo from his nose.

Susanoo gets expelled from heaven after hurling excrement around the palace and throwing the skinned carcass of a pony through the roof, causing the startled Heavenly Weaving Woman to ram her genitals against her loom, dying on the spot. Susanoo descends to Japan, slays a dragon, and sires 80 sons, one of whom becomes Master of the Land. However, the Sun Goddess decides to dispatch her grandson Ninigi to rule the land, and Susanoo defers to her decision. (He is enshrined at Izumo as a reward for this cooperation.) One of Ninigi’s grandsons, Jinmu, establishes his rule from the southern island of Kyushu to the middle of the main island of Honshu, supposedly in what in our calendar would be 660 BCE.

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The Myth of Abraham and America’s Allegiance to Israel

The Myth of Abraham and America’s Allegiance to Israel