Bene Israel: Studies in the Archaeology of Israel and the Levant During the Bronze and Iron Ages in Honour of Israel Finkelstein (Culture and History of the Ancient Near East)

Israel Finkelstein

Bene Israel

Culture and History of the Ancient Near East Founding Editor

M. H. E. Weippert Editors-in-Chief

Thomas Schneider Editors

Eckart Frahm, W. Randall Garr, B. Halpern, Theo P. J. van den Hout, Irene J. Winter

VOLUME 31

Bene Israel Studies in the Archaeology of Israel and the Levant during the Bronze and Iron Ages in Honour of Israel Finkelstein

edited by

Alexander Fantalkin and Assaf Yasur-Landau

LEIDEN • BOSTON 2008

This book is printed on acid-free paper. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Bene Israel : studies in the archaeology of Israel and the Levant during the Bronze and Iron ages in honour of Israel Finkelstein / edited by Alexander Fantalkin and Assaf Yasur-Landau. p. cm. — (Culture and history of the ancient Near East ; v. 31) Includes index. ISBN 978-90-04-15282-3 (alk. paper) 1. Bronze age—Palestine. 2. Iron age—Palestine. 3. Excavations (Archaeology)— Palestine. 4. Palestine—Antiquities. 5. Bronze age—Middle East. 6. Iron age—Middle East. 7. Excavations (Archaeology)—Middle East. 8. Middle East—Antiquities. I. Fantalkin, Alexander. II. Yasur-Landau, Assaf. III. Finkelstein, Israel. IV. Title. V. Series. GN778.32.P19B45 2008 933—dc22 2008014960

ISSN 1566-2055 ISBN 978 90 04 15282 3 © Copyright 2008 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Hotei Publishing, IDC Publishers, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers and VSP. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. printed in the netherlands

CONTENTS Acknowledgments ....................................................................... List of Figures ............................................................................. Introduction ................................................................................

vii ix xv

Urban Land Use Changes on the Southeastern Slope of Tel Megiddo during the Middle Bronze Age ............................ Eran Arie

1

The Appearance of Rock-Cut Bench Tombs in Iron Age Judah as a Reflection of State Formation .................................. Alexander Fantalkin

17

Trademarks of the Omride Builders? ........................................ Norma Franklin Continuity and Change in the Late Bronze to Iron Age Transition in Israel’s Coastal Plain: A Long Term Perspective ................................................................................... Yuval Gadot

45

55

Permanent and Temporary Settlements in the South of the Lower Besor Region: Two Case Studies .................................... Dan Gazit

75

The Socioeconomic Implications of Grain Storage in Early Iron Age Canaan: The Case of Tel Dan ........................ David Ilan

87

A Re-analysis of the Archaeological Evidence for the Beginning of the Iron Age I ...................................................... Yitzhak Meitlis

105

vi

contents

Reassessing the Bronze and Iron Age Economy: Sheep and Goat Husbandry in the Southern Levant as a Model Case Study ........................................................................................... Aharon Sasson Settlement Patterns of Philistine City-States ............................. Alon Shavit

113 135

Levantine Standardized Luxury in the Late Bronze Age: Waste Management at Tell Atchana (Alalakh) .......................... Amir Sumakaxi Fink

165

Desert Outsiders: Extramural Neighborhoods in the Iron Age Negev .......................................................................................... Yifat Thareani-Sussely

197

A Message in a Jug: Canaanite, Philistine, and Cypriot Iconography and the “Orpheus Jug” ......................................... Assaf Yasur-Landau

213

Index ........................................................................................... Plates ...........................................................................................

231 247

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS As the editors of present volume, we would like to express our thanks to a number of colleagues who had contributed significantly to its accomplishment. Inbal Samet spared no effort, helping immensely in preparation the manuscript for publication. Alon Shavit and Gocha R. Tsetskhladze has offered advice and help in a number of crucial points of the project. Baruch Halpern and Ephraim Lytle have read the entire manuscript, kindly providing their valuable comments, while Benjamin Sass, Eric H. Cline and David Ilan have kindly commented on several papers. We were privileged to have on our side Michiel Klein Swormink, Michael J. Mozina, and Jennifer Pavelko from the Brill staff, whose professional and dedicated work made the usually complicated task of producing an edited volume considerably simpler. Likewise, we would like to thank the editorial board of Brill’s Culture and History of the Ancient Near East series. Finally, but perhaps most importantly, this project could never has been materialized without the enthusiastic participation of our contributors. We have greatly enjoyed working with such knowledgeable, reliable and responsive colleagues as have come together for the present volume. A.F. A.Y.-L.

LIST OF FIGURES Arie Fig. 1. The excavated area on the southeastern slope of Tel Megiddo (after Guy and Engberg 1938: Fig. 2) ...... Fig. 2. Spatial distribution of the Middle Bronze tombs on the southeastern slope (after Guy and Engberg 1938: Pl. 1) ................................................................................

250

Franklin Fig. 1. The Mason’s Masks ........................................................ Fig. 2. The Megiddo—Palace 1723 .......................................... Fig. 3. Samaria—the Omride Palace ........................................

251 251 252

Gadot Fig. 1. Map of central Coastal Plain with settlements dated to Late Bronze and Iron Age I periods .............................. Fig. 2. Reconstructed plan of Palace 4430 at Aphek ............... Fig. 3. Locally made Egyptian-styled vessels found at Aphek .............................................................................. Fig. 4. Philistine finds from Aphek that were manufactured at Ashkelon .......................................................................... Fig. 5. Types of cooking-pots found at Aphek X12 and at Tell Qasille XII–X .......................................................... Fig. 6. The transformation of sociopolitical order in the Yarkon-Ayalon basin ....................................................... Fig. 7. The Late Bronze-Iron Age transformation at Israel’s central Coastal Plain viewed as a furcative change ....... Ilan Fig. 1. The site of Tel Dan. Iron Age I remains were found in all areas excavated .......................................................... Fig. 2. A plan of Area B, Stratum VI. Note the large numbers of pits .............................................................. Fig. 3. A plan of Area B, Stratum V. Note the small number of pits and large number of pithoi, relative to Stratum VI (Fig. 2) .....................................................

249

253 254 254 255 256 257 257

258 259 259

x

list of figures

Fig. 4. A stone-lined pit in Area B (L1225) containing a secondary deposit of refuse, most prominently fragmented ceramic vessels. This is of the more common cylindrical variety .......................................... Fig. 5. Unlined pits sunk into an earlier consolidated Late Bronze Age pebble fill .................................................. Fig. 6. A stone-lined pit in Area M (L8185) with the more unusual “beehive” shape .............................................. Fig. 7. A row of pithoi lining a wall—their most frequent position in Iron Age I sites ........................................... Fig. 8. “Galilean” pithoi ........................................................... Fig. 9. Collared-rim pithoi ....................................................... Fig. 10. Tel Dan Stratum IVB, Area B, L4710: a possible feed bin abutting a wall (left) ........................................ Sasson Fig. 1. Sites mentioned in the text ........................................... Fig. 2. Geographic regions of the Land of Israel ................... Shavit Fig. 1. The southern Coastal Plain and the boundaries of the settlement complexes .................................................... Fig. 2. The settlement complex of Tel Miqne-Ekron: the number of settlements during the 10th century BCE according to settlement size .......................................... Fig. 3. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex in the Tel Miqne-Ekron region during the 10th century BCE ......................................................... Fig. 4. The settlement complex of Tel Miqne-Ekron: the number of settlements during the 9th century BCE according to settlement size .......................................... Fig. 5. The settlement complex of Tel Miqne-Ekron: the number of settlements during the 8th century BCE according to settlement size .......................................... Fig. 6. The settlement complex of Tel Miqne-Ekron: the number of settlements during the 7th century BCE according to settlement size .......................................... Fig. 7. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex of Tel Miqne-Ekron during the 7th century BCE ...........

260 260 261 261 262 262 263 264 265

266 267 267 268 268 269 269

list of figures Fig. 8. The populated area in the region of Tel Miqne-Ekron during the different phases of the Iron Age II .................................................................... Fig. 9. The settled area at Tel ¶afit-Gath and the surrounding sites during the various stages of the Iron Age II .................................................................... Fig. 10. The settlement complex of Tel ¶afit-Gath: the number of settlements during the 8th century BCE according to settlement size .......................................... Fig. 11. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex of Tel ¶afit-Gath in the 8th century BCE ....................... Fig. 12. The settlement complex of Tel ¶afit-Gath: the number of settlements during the 7th century BCE according to settlement size .......................................... Fig. 13. The settlement complex of Tel Ashdod: the number of settlements during the 10th century BCE according to settlement size .......................................... Fig. 14. The settlement complex of Tel Ashdod: the number of settlements during the 8th century BCE according to settlement size .......................................... Fig. 15. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex of Tel Ashdod in the 7th century BCE ............................ Fig. 16. The settlement complex of Tel Ashdod: the number of settlements during the 7th century BCE according to settlement size .......................................... Fig. 17. The settlement complex of Tel Ashkelon: the number of settlements during the 8th century BCE according to settlement size .......................................... Fig. 18. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex of Tel Ashkelon in the 7th century BCE ................................ Fig. 19. The settlement complex of Tel Ashkelon: the number of settlements during the 7th century BCE according to settlement size ........................................................... Fig. 20. The settlement complex of the Na˜al Besor basin: the number of settlements during the 10th century BCE according to the settlement size .......................... Fig. 21. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex of the Na˜al Besor basin during the 10th century BCE .................................................................

xi

270 270 271 271 272 272 273 273 274 274 275 275 276 276

xii

list of figures

Fig. 22. The settlement complex of the Na˜al Besor basin: the number of settlements during the 9th century BCE according to settlement size ............ Fig. 23. The settlement complex of the Na˜al Besor basin: the number of settlements during the 8th century BCE according to settlement size ................................ Fig. 24. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex in the Na˜al Besor basin during the 7th century BCE ... Fig. 25. The settlement complex of the Na˜al Besor basin: the number of settlements during the 7th century BCE according to settlement size ................................ Sumakaxi Fink Fig. 1. Toilets in Nuzi (after Starr 1937–1939; 163, Fig. 24). Reprinted by permission of the publishers from Nuzi: Report of the excavations at Yorgan Tepa near Kirkuk, p. 163, Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, Copyright © 1939 by the president and fellows of Harvard College ................... Fig. 2. The Level IV palace at Tell Atchana, where Woolley excavated four restrooms and three bathrooms (after Woolley 1955: Fig. 44). Reprinted by permission of the Society of Antiquaries of London .......................................................................... Fig. 3. The toilets in room 5 of the Level IV palace (after Woolley 1955 Pl. XXVa). Reprinted by permission of the Society of Antiquaries of London .................... Fig. 4. The Oriental Institute University of Chicago Expedition to Tell Atchana (Image by E. J. Struble) ... Fig. 5. The west wing of Area 2: Local Phase 2 (Image by E. J. Struble) .................................................................. Fig. 6. Rooms 03-2077 and 03-2092 in Square 44.45 (Image by E. J. Struble) ............................................................. Fig. 7. Restroom 03-2092 during the excavation (photo by N.-L. Roberts) ............................................................... Fig. 8. Drain 03-2039 (photo by N.-L. Roberts) ..................... Fig. 9. Plaster inside drain 03-2039 (photo by N.-L. Roberts) ............................................................... Fig. 10. Wall 03-2091 (photo by N.-L. Roberts) ....................... Fig. 11. Jug R03-1542 (photo by N.-L. Roberts) ....................... Fig. 12. Plate R03-1851 (photo by N.-L. Roberts) ....................

277 277 278 278

279

280 281 281 282 283 284 285 286 286 287 287

list of figures Thareani-Sussely Fig. 1. Map of Iron Age II sites in the Beersheba Valley ...... Fig. 2. Tel {Aroer—general plan .............................................. Fig. 3. Tel {Aroer, Area D—general plan ................................ Fig. 4. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1003 and 1411—pottery assemblages ................................................................... Fig. 5. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1417—pottery assemblage ...... Fig. 6. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1417—pottery assemblage ...... Fig. 7. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1421—pottery assemblage ...... Fig. 8. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1421—pottery assemblage ...... Fig. 9. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1443—pottery assemblage ...... Fig. 10. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1443—pottery assemblage ...... Fig. 11. Tel {Aroer, Area A—general plan ................................ Fig. 12. Tel {Aroer, Area A—selected pottery ........................... Fig. 13. Tel {Aroer, Area A—selected pottery ........................... Fig. 14. Æorvat {Uza—general plan .......................................... Fig. 15. Tel {Aroer—southern Arabian inscription from Area D bearing the letter ‫ ח‬......................................... Yasur-Landau Fig. 1. 1. The “Orpheus Jug.” After Loud 1948: Pl. 76: 1 .......... 2. A krater from Ashdod, Stratum XIII. After Dothan and Zukerman 2004: Fig. 19: 3 .................................... 3. A krater from Ekron, Stratum VI. After Dothan and Zukerman 2004: Fig. 19: 2 ........................................... 4. A jug from Azor. After Dothan 1982: Fig. 48 .............. 5. A strainer jug from Tell {Aitun. After Dothan 1982: Fig. 29 ............................................................................ 6. A LHIIIC stirrup jar from Kalymnos. After Mountjoy 1999: Fig. 464: 19 .......................................................... Fig. 2. 1. A krater from Lachish, Fosse Temple III. After Tufnell, Inge, and Harding 1940: Pl. XLVIII: 250 ...... 2. A bowl from Lachish Level VI. After Aharoni 1975: Pl. 39: 11 ........................................................................ 3. An inscribed jug from Lachish, Fosse Temple III. After Keel and Uehlinger 1998: Illustration 81 ........... 4. A jar from Megiddo Stratum VIIB. After Loud 1948: Pl. 64: 4 .......................................................................... 5. A jug from Megiddo. After Guy 1938: Pl. 134 ............

xiii 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 295 296 297 298 299 300 301 302

303 303 303 303 303 303 304 304 304 304 304

xiv

list of figures

6. A collar-necked jar from Kalymnos. After Mountjoy 1999: Fig. 463: 14 .......................................................... 7. A figurine from Revadim. After Keel and Uehlinger 1998: Fig. 89 .................................................................. Fig. 3. 1. A krater from Enkomi. After Wedde 2000: No. 644 ... 2. A pyxis from Tragana. After Wedde 2000: No. 643 .... 3. A seal from Tiryns. After Yasur-Landau 2001: Pl. Ca ............................................................................. 4. A stirrup jar from Syros. After Wedde 2000: No. 655 .......................................................................... 5. A krater from Aradippo, Cyprus. After Yasur-Landau 2001: Pl. Ce ................................................................... 6. A krater from Ashkelon, courtesy of Prof. L. E. Stager, Director of the Ashkelon Excavations .......................... 7. A figurine from Ashdod, Stratum XII. After Yasur-Landau 2001: Pl. XCIXa .................................... Fig. 4. 1. A painted shard from Megiddo. After Schumacher 1908: Pl. 24 .................................................................... 2. A zoomorphic vessel from Megiddo. After Loud 1948: Pl. 247: 7 ........................................................................ 3. A tripod vessel in the Metropolitan Museum. After Iacovou 1988: 72, Fig. 33 .............................................. 4. The lyre player on the “Orpheus Jug” ......................... 5. A kalathos from Kouklia-Xerolimani T.9:7. After Iacovou 1988: 72, Fig. 70 .............................................. 6. A plate from Kouklia-Skales. After Iacovou 1988: 27 ......................................................................... 7. A jar from Megiddo Stratum VIA. After Loud 1948: Pl. 84: 5 ..........................................................................

304 304 305 305 305 305 305 305 305 306 306 306 306 306 306 306

INTRODUCTION We are honoured to present to Prof. Israel Finkelstein this collection of studies concerning the archaeology of Israel and the Levant. Professor Finkelstein holds the Jacob M. Alkow Chair in the Archaeology of Israel in the Bronze and Iron Ages at Tel Aviv University. He is widely regarded not only as one of the leading scholars in the archaeology of the Levant during the Bronze and Iron Ages but also as a leader in the application of modern archaeological evidence to the reconstruction of biblical Israelite history. His pioneering work has been frequently recognized and widely acclaimed. Professor Finkelstein’s scholarship is not, however, the genesis of this Festschrift, the first in his honour. His scholarly achievements will no doubt be honoured in due time by a more august array of international researchers. Likewise, although the fact that Israel Finkelstein will celebrate his 60th birthday next year was doubtless taken into consideration, it was not necessarily the main impetus for producing of this volume. Rather, this Festschrift is born from and intends to honour Israel Finkelstein the teacher. Each of the twelve contributors to this volume was at one time a graduate student of Israel, mostly at Tel Aviv University. While continuing to conduct new research, publish excavation reports, and meet the arduous task of organizing the Megiddo project, Israel never loses sight of his students. Generous with his time and infectious with his energy, throughout the years Israel has done everything possible to hone the skills of his students, encouraging each of us to find our own paths in the field and we have all benefited immeasurably from his focused guidance. It is a tribute to his integrity that Israel takes pride in the fact that some of his students’ views are overtly opposed to his own. As a result, it should come as no surprise if the authors of the papers in this volume not infrequently disagree with their teacher on matters of archaeological method, historical interpretation or chronology. In essence, this lack of consensus is the best imaginable way to pay tribute to two of our teacher’s guiding principles: intellectual honesty and a healthy skepticism of communis opinio.

xvi

introduction

The twelve articles contained within not only express a wide range of informed opinions, but also pursue research across a broad spectrum of interests, from subsistence economies to the symbolic realm of iconography. Their geographic scope, however, is limited: they all focus on Israel and the Levant, the region held dearest by Israel Finkelstein. Questions concerning city boundaries and their implications for our understanding of urban frameworks are investigated by both Arie and Thareani-Sussely, who point out that the evidence for extramural settlements during the Bronze and Iron Ages suggests a kind of urban sprawl in times of relative peace and stability. A case for change in land use is presented by Arie, who argues that during Middle Bronze Age II–III, the southeastern slope of Tell Megiddo was no longer used as an extramural cemetery. Traces of walls, masonry tombs, and infant jar burials suggest that during this period there was a change in land use, and the area became a neighborhood. Burying the deceased under the floors of buildings and courtyards was a common practice in the period. It is possible that the area was reused as a cemetery when the urban area constricted during the Late Bronze Age. The discovery of an extramural neighborhood at Megiddo increases the estimated size of the site to 13.5–15 ha. Moreover, it calls for a reevaluation of the total areas of other Middle Bronze Age sites, which in turn could have a significant impact on population estimates for the period. Thareani-Sussely discusses the multicultural and multifunctional nature of extramural neighborhoods in the late Iron Age II in the Negev. The complex sociopolitical reality in the area during the 8th and 7th centuries BCE allowed the development of extramural neighborhoods adjacent to settlements. Rather than serving squatters and the urban poor, solidly built structures outside the walls of {Aroer are connected with commercial activities; one structure, for example, is identified as a caravanserai. A different function is suggested for extramural structures at Æorvat {Uza and Arad, interpreted as houses for the family members of the garrisons stationed at the forts. Thareani-Sussely describes extramural neighborhoods not as the impoverished margin of the ancient city but as “a place of interaction between various population groups from different origins and social classes: merchants, caravaneers, nomads, and local population—all integral parts of the ancient urban community.” The concentration of a large number of people in a city created challenges of waste management, and Sumakaxi-Fink addresses the

introduction

xvii

architecture of restrooms in the houses of the well-to-do residents of Alalakh. The role of toilets as “standardized luxury” and an integral part of elite architecture is seen in use of fine building materials such as orthostats, carefully applied plaster, and ceramic tiles. The presentation of several restrooms in various degrees of preservation at the site, as well as numerous parallels for different types of toilets from the Levant, will be of use for the identification of such installations at other sites. Gazit, following the traditional chronology and understanding of the Iron Age, presents a comparative study of settlement activity in Iron Age IB and the Byzantine period, based on the results of a survey undertaken south of the Lower Besor region. According to Gazit, the sudden appearance of the Iron Age IB settlement system in the Besor region during the second half of the 11th century BCE, followed by its disappearance after a period of some three generations, can by explained by the political and economical gap that was formed in south Canaan after the breakdown of Egyptian administration in the final days of the 20th Dynasty. On the other hand, in his opinion, during the Byzantine period, state systems possessed complete territorial control over both cultivated and wilderness territories. Meitlis investigates the beginning of Iron Age I culture in the highlands. He considers the similarity between the characteristics of Late Bronze material culture and those of Iron Age I, the lack of Late Bronze architectural remains under most Iron Age I sites, and several cases in which Late Bronze pottery imports co-exist with Iron Age I pottery, as evidence for a very early appearance of Iron Age I culture. Whether or not one accepts his chronology for the earliest appearance of vessels typical of the Iron Age in the central highlands, it is nevertheless possible that some processes connected with the emergence of Israel started, as Meitlis suggests, “at an earlier phase than has been posited in the past, and continued for a much longer period than has been suggested.” The socioeconomic implications of grain storage in Iron Age I are discussed by Ilan, who concentrates as a case-study on the storage facilities of Tel Dan (Strata VI–IVB). Ilan points out that these facilities underwent significant changes over the course of Iron Age I. These changes may serve as a clear indicator of socioeconomic and political change at the site and in the region as a whole. Indeed, the early phase at Tel Dan (Stratum VI) was characterized by a combination of many grain pits and some pithoi, which might have been a function

xviii

introduction

of poor security. In Stratum V, most grain storage was transferred to above-ground containers (mostly pithoi), while pits seem to have been limited to one per household. It is possible that such a combination may reflect an improvement in security conditions. On the other hand, during the last phase (Stratum IVB), pits continued to be confined to one per household, but pithoi became few again. Ilan goes on to suggest that during this phase, part of the grain may have been stored in above-ground facilities that belonged to individual households, while other portions may have gone to a central storage place. This is believed to indicate increasing centralization of economic and political control during the last phase of the period. Sasson reassesses the Bronze and Iron Age economies of the southern Levant, based on his analysis of sheep and goat husbandry. According to Sasson, zooarchaeological finds from the periods discussed point to a conservative household economy, clearly a function of a survival subsistence strategy. This strategy pursued the optimal utilization of resources balanced by a minimization of risk in order to maintain longterm survival. The immediate goal of the survival subsistence strategy would have been to preserve flock and territorial size at an optimum level without endangering the ecological resource base (i.e., water, pasture) and, according to Sasson, the reason this strategy was employed is that scarcity, not surplus played a central role in the lives of ancient populations. Based on the zoo-archaeological record of caprine (sheep and goats) from 68 Bronze and Iron Age southern Levantine sites, Sasson suggests that the mechanism for coping with scarcity included maximizing subsistence security while reducing risks and minimizing fluctuations in the resource base. In most sites examined by him, the relative frequency of sheep does not exceed 67% and this pattern occurs in all periods as well as all geographical regions in Israel. According to Sasson, it reflects a survival subsistence strategy that strived for balance between the demand for wool, produced of sheep, and the demand for herd security maintained mostly by goats. Likewise, Sasson recognizes an additional pattern of exploiting caprine for all of their products. This pattern stands in contrast with theories on specialization in production of meat, milk or wool in the Southern Levant and, according to Sasson, points to a self-sufficient economy and optimal exploitation of subsistence resources. Gadot uses the “longue durée” approach to explore continuity and change in the Late Bronze Age to Iron Age transition in Israel’s central

introduction

xix

Coastal Plain. Relying on a nuanced analysis of this lengthy period, Gadot postulates that new sociopolitical organizations emerged along the Yarkon-Ayalon basin during the Late Bronze-Iron Age three times in succession. According to Gadot, the first system was created by the Egyptians who turned Jaffa into one of their strongholds in Canaan, and the plains along the Yarkon River into royal or temple estates. However, when the Egyptian system came to a violent end, the area was marginalized and no single centralized social group had control over the land. Only when the Philistines immigrated into the region from the south was a new sociopolitical order established again. Gadot concludes that in the area discussed, the initiation of a new social order was always brought about by an external political power taking advantage of fragmented local social groups in order to exploit the region economically. Shavit presents an investigation of the urban landscape through the lens of regional studies. Following his survey of Iron Age sites in Philistia, he addresses the apparent anomaly of the emergence of urban centers with almost no surrounding hinterland. This is an exceptional phenomenon in the landscape of ancient Israel, where urban settlement is usually a part of a multi-tiered settlement pattern. Based on parallels from the Late Bronze Aegean, Shavit suggests that Aegean concepts of urban settlement, imported by the Philistine migrants in the 12th century BCE had a long-lasting influence on the hinterlands of Tel Miqne-Ekron, Tel ¶afit-Gath, Tel Ashdod, Tel Ashkelon, and Gaza. Shavit describes the Philistine centers as “city-villages” or “quasi-cities,” isolated from their surroundings, with inhabitants who subsisted mostly on agriculture, and with an economy that did not rely on a hinterland. Fantalkin’s article deals with the appearance of burial practices connected to the use of rock-cut bench tombs in Iron Age Judah. In his opinion, the present scholarly consensus, which sees these tombs as a phenomenon characterizing both the United Monarchy and the Kingdom of Judah, fails to explain the fact that these tombs are attested in the Judean core area only as early as the 8th century BCE, while in other areas, such as the Judean foothills (the Shephelah) and the Coastal Plain, the development of such tombs is dated significantly earlier. Fantalkin hypothesizes that the aggressive expansionist policy of Aram-Damascus, which resulted in the decline of Gath and the temporary weakening of the Northern Kingdom in the second half of 9th century BCE, may have paved the way for Judah’s expansion into the

xx

introduction

area of the Shephelah and the latter’s integration into the Kingdom of Judah. In this scenario, the widespread appearance of bench tombs throughout the Kingdom of Judah during the 8th and 7th centuries BCE may be seen as a sign of state formation as lowland elite burial practices were adopted by newly created Judahite urban elites. Franklin investigates anew the well-known Iron Age palaces at Samaria and Megiddo. According to her, both palaces share a distinctive set of architectural characteristics, which when view together with her re-analysis of the stratigraphy at Samaria and Megiddo, highlights the fact that their construction may be safely dated to the 9th century BCE. Two significant features present at both palaces are the use of specific masons’ marks and the utilization of the short cubit as the unit of measurement; these provide, in Franklin’s view, a clue to the identity of the builders. Yasur-Landau explores the iconographic message in what is arguably the most famous ceramic find from Megiddo, the “Orpheus Jug”. YasurLandau argues that the figural iconography on the jug suggests that it is not purely Philistine in origin. Cypriot imagery may have influenced the style of the animal and human figures on the “Orpheus Jug,” demonstrating new contacts with Cyprus at the end of the 11th century BCE. However, the topic of the scene is neither Cypriot nor Philistine, but belongs to a long tradition of Canaanite representations of sacred trees and animals, relating to Ashera or Astarte. These traditions continued at Megiddo, unhindered, into the Iron Age, an active manifestation of Canaanite cultural identity, while at Philistia representations of trees and animals were suppressed by the Philistine imagery of the bird, symbol of an Aegean Goddess. The twelve authors included here, a symbolic metaphor, represent in fact only a fraction of Israel’s many students. Professor Finklestein’s ongoing commitment to the training and guiding of students will no doubt continue to produce a steady flow of new archaeologists. More “Bene” and “Benot” Israel indeed. Alexander Fantalkin Assaf Yasur-Landau Tel Aviv 25.03.2008

URBAN LAND USE CHANGES ON THE SOUTHEASTERN SLOPE OF TEL MEGIDDO DURING THE MIDDLE BRONZE AGE Eran Arie They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself . . . Andy Warhol

Introduction One of the goals set forth by the directors—one of which is Israel Finkelstein—of the Expedition of Tel Aviv University to Megiddo was to launch a “renewed investigation in areas previously excavated, intended to deal with stratigraphic, chronological, architectural and historical problems which remained unsolved by former excavations” (Finkelstein et al. 2000: 3). As a team member of this expedition I will suggest a solution for one of these problems. Most research dealing with material from the Middle Bronze tombs in Megiddo ignored the tombs on the slope (Kenyon 1969; Tufnell 1973; Hallote 2001). In other studies the latter were only partially investigated (Wright 1965: Chart 5; Dever 1976: Chart 2; Gerstenblith 1983: 26), but they were never examined independently. This article explores the chronological, stratigraphic, and spatial aspects of these tombs in order to understand what occurred on the southeastern slope of Tel Megiddo during that period. The two main research questions are: 1. What were the land uses of the southeastern slope of Tel Megiddo during the Middle Bronze Age? 2. Are we actually familiar with the extramural cemetery of the Middle Bronze II–III in Megiddo?

2

eran arie The Excavations of the Southeastern Slope

Prior to the beginning of the excavations at Megiddo by the University of Chicago Expedition, an area was prepared for the depositing of debris from the excavations (Guy and Engberg 1938: 2). C. S. Fisher had excavated the southeastern slope for that purpose in 1925, and his successor, P. L. O. Guy, enlarged the dump area in 1927 after debris had filled it (Fig. 1). During the last expansion of this area between 1930 and 1932, the well-known Early Bronze stages were revealed. The published plan of the dump grounds presents only about half of its area and the only documentation available for the rest of the area is an aerial photograph taken from the famous balloon (Guy and Engberg 1938: Pl. 2). In all, an area of ca. 15,000 m2 of the grounds used for the dump was excavated and approximately 125 tombs were discovered. In addition to the tombs, several architectural elements were found in Squares Q-S/15–16. The finds were assigned to three strata distinguished from those of the tell by the prefix ES (Eastern Slope). Due to the excavation methods that characterized the field work conducted in Palestine during the 1920s and the 1930s, the results of the excavation of the southeastern slope of Tel Megiddo are difficult to reexamine. Many finds were not published, and others were collected selectively and not systematically documented. The excavations of the University of Chicago Expedition on the slope concentrated mainly on the tombs, and it seems that the architectural elements were overlooked. As described by Guy and Engberg: “there were few buildings or other remains of high interest in the area, so the work went quickly” (Guy and Engberg 1938: 2). Furthermore, some of the sparse architectural finds that were documented (ibid.) were never published. Ever since the southeastern slope of the tell was excavated, it has been interpreted as part of the extramural cemetery of the city. All activity that took place in this area from the Early Bronze Age to the Iron Age I and even later has always been considered funerary (Guy and Engberg 1938: 135; Broshi and Gophna 1986: 75; Kempinski 1989: 189; Gonen 1992a: 41, 87; Hallote 1994: 22). It should be noted that during 1927, while the northwestern part of the slope—where most of the Middle Bronze II–III1 tombs are concentrated—was being excavated, the

1 The terminology used here is: Middle Bronze I: 2,000–1,800; Middle Bronze II: 1,800–1,650; Middle Bronze III: 1,650–1,500; after Ilan 1995: 298; cf. Bietak 2002: 41, Fig. 15.

changes on the southeastern slope of tel megiddo

3

Middle Bronze strata on the tell (in Area BB) with their wealthy tombs had not yet been explored. At this stage of the excavations, Guy and his team were not aware of the widespread Middle Bronze Age burial custom of interring under house floors and courtyards. I believe that this was the reason Guy and Engberg regarded the Middle Bronze burials of the slope as isolated tombs lacking architectural context. Since then, the area has been regarded as part of the Middle Bronze cemetery. Pottery Groups of Middle Bronze Megiddo A major role in the construction of the Megiddo Middle Bronze pottery typology belongs to the finds retrieved from over two hundred tombs in Area BB by the Chicago Expedition. In the report, tombs and finds were grouped together solely according to their absolute levels (Loud 1948), and therefore never represented coherent chronological strata. Kenyon (1969) and Gerstenblith (1983) reexamined the ceramic material from these tombs in order to gain stratigraphic and typological information. Gerstenblith, dealing only with the Middle Bronze I material, detected four ceramic phases (1–4) representing the emergence of the Middle Bronze urban culture. Kenyon, who worked on the Middle Bronze II–III ceramic finds, divided this long period into eight ceramic groups (A–H), which she then assigned to respective stratigraphic phases in Areas BB and AA. Despite the fact that some of the tombs dated by Gerstenblith to the Middle Bronze I were dated by Kenyon to the Middle Bronze II, these studies are the most important typological researches of the Middle Bronze pottery of Megiddo. Although the researches detected twelve ceramic phases in all, it is now clear that only nine pottery groups can really be identified in the ceramic evidence. Beck showed that in contrast to the four ceramic phases of Middle Bronze I in Aphek, Gerstenblith was able to point out only three real pottery groups in Megiddo (1/2, 3, 4) (Beck 2000: 239–254; Cohen 2002: 87; Kochavi and Yadin 2002: 196–225). 2 Kenyon’s identification of Group D was based on the appearance of Cypriot import (Kenyon 1969: 31), but Gerstenblith demonstrated that Cypriot vessels had already appeared in her earlier Group 4 (Gerstenblith 1983: 28). Furthermore, Kempinski (1974: 151), who dealt with Kenyon’s Groups F and G (Kenyon 1969: 34–35), argued that the two 2

The earliest phase at Aphek is missing in Megiddo; see Beck 1985: 193.

4

eran arie

should be combined into one group. Table 1 presents the nine pottery groups of Middle Bronze Megiddo in their stratigraphic context, in view of the main researches on the stratigraphy of Middle Bronze Megiddo (Loud 1948; Kenyon 1958: 51*–60*; Epstein 1965: 204–221; Kenyon 1969: 25–60; Dunayevsky and Kempinski 1973: 161–187; Gerstenblith 1983; Ilan, Hallote, and Cline 2000: 186–222). Division of the Slope Tombs according to Ceramic Groups The Chicago Expedition dated twenty-five tombs on the southeastern slope to the Middle Bronze Age (Guy and Engberg 1938: 140).3 However, this assignation is far from being a straightforward one; three tombs (T.244, T.252, T.255) were dated to the Middle Bronze Age intuitively because they were close to other accurately dated Middle Bronze tombs, although no indicative pottery was found in them (Guy and Engberg, 1938: 56–60). Two other tombs (T.46, T.50) were dated to the Middle Bronze Age according to pottery, but not a single vessel or sherd from them was published (Guy and Engberg, 1938: 52–54). Furthermore, Gonen redated two tombs (T.251, T.258) to the Late Bronze Age (Gonen 1992: 88). Therefore, only 18 tombs, which most likely date to the Middle Bronze Age, are dealt with here (Fig. 2).4 In order to reexamine the different land uses of the southeastern slope of Megiddo during the Middle Bronze Age, each tomb of the slope was examined separately, and each tomb was affiliated with Kenyon and Gerstenblith’s pottery groups. When affiliating a ceramic group with a tomb was not possible since sufficient indicative pottery was not available, only a subdivision of the Middle Bronze Age was established. Once the chronology of the tombs was established, several analyses, which were combined with stratigraphic and spatial investigations, made it possible to comprehend changes in land use on the southeastern slope of Megiddo during the Middle Bronze Age.

3 Two additional tombs (T.644 and T.645) that were also dated to the Middle Bronze Age are not located on the southeastern slope and are therefore not examined here. 4 While the Middle Bronze Age scarabs retrieved from Megiddo were examined several times, those from the tombs in the southeastern slope were never studied systematically. Although this examination is beyond the scope of this article, these scarabs fit the chronological affiliation presented in Table 2 (Daphna Ben-Tor, personal communication). See also Tufnell 1973: 69–82; Ward and Dever 1994.

changes on the southeastern slope of tel megiddo

5

Table 1. Middle Bronze pottery groups in their stratigraphic context Stratum Loud 1948 XIV

MB I (1850– 1800)

XIIIB

MB I (1800– 1750)

Gerstenblith Kenyon 1983 1958; 1969

Dunayevsky and Kempinski 1973

Phase G: EB–MB: partly filled Temple 4040

XIVB: EB IIIB: Temple 4040 and Altar 4017; XIVA: MB I: partly filled Temple 4040 and “Pavement” 4009

IBA

Phase H: MB I; Phase J: MB I–MB II

MB IIA: filled Temple 4040 and buildings around the sacred area

MB I

Phase K (AA*): MB II: PG–A; Phase L (AB*): PG–B

MB IIA: filled Temple 4040 and buildings around the sacred area and Wall 3182

Phase 1/2: MB IA Phase 3: MB IB

XIIIA

Phase 4: MB IC

Epstein 1965

Ilan et al. Current 2000 terminology Area F

Phase I: earliest phase of Temple 2048

XII

MB II (1750– 1700)

Phase M (AC*): end of Temple 4040; Phase N: PG–C

MB IIA: Western Palace, cult chamber surrounded by stelae and Wall 3182 Area AA: Gate 4103

Level F-12

XI

MB II (1700– 1650)

Phase O (AD*, AE*): PG–D

MB IIB: Palace 5051, cult chamber and wall Area AA: rampart and Gate 4109

Phase II: Level F-11 second phase of Temple 2048

X

MB II (1650– 1550)

Phase P (AF*, AG*): last phase of MB II: PG–E, F/G

MB IIB (= MB IIC): Palace 5019 and earliest Temple 2048 Area AA: Building 2005

IX

MB II (1550– 1479)

End of Phase P: PG–H

LB I: Temple 2048 and Palace 2134

* Kenyon phases in Area AA PG – Pottery Group

MB I–MB II

MB II

MB III

Level F-10

LB I

6

eran arie

Tables 2–3 present the division of the Middle Bronze tombs on the southeastern slope according to ceramic groups. While in Table 2 the tombs are arranged according to their numeric order, in Table 3 they are organized by ceramic groups and tomb types. Table 2. Database of the Middle Bronze tombs of the southeastern slope Tomb No.

Pottery group (Gerstenblith/ Kenyon)

Burial type

24 42 43 44 45 49 51 53 56 233 234 247 253 254 257 868 911

B E MB II–III MB II–III E F/G E–F/G E–F/G MB II–III E–F/G E–F/G E–F/G E–F/G MB II–III MB II–III E–F/G or LB I 911A1: 1/2, 3, 4 (?) 911 D: 3 912 B: 1/2 912 D: 3

Shaft tomb Shaft tomb Rock-cut pit tomb Rock-cut pit tomb Rock-cut pit tomb Rock-cut pit tomb Masonry chamber tomb Rock-cut pit tomb Masonry chamber tomb Rock-cut pit tomb Rock-cut pit tomb Jar burial Jar burial Simple pit tomb Jar burial Simple pit tomb Shaft tomb

912

Shaft tomb

Table 3. The tombs according to type and ceramic groups MB I MB II–III (Kenyon 1969) (Gerstenblith MB II MB II–III MB III 1983) (1/2, 3, 4) (A, B, C) (A, B, C, E, (E, F/G) F/G) Simple pit Rock-cut pit Jar burial Masonry chamber tomb Shaft tomb 2

1

Total

1 (6%)

2 (11%) 11%

1 2 1 1

5 (28%) 89%

Total

1 5 2 1

2 7 3 2

1

4

10 (55%) 18 (100%) 100%

changes on the southeastern slope of tel megiddo

7

Intrasite, Intersite, and Diachronic Analyses of the Slope Tombs Almost all of the Middle Bronze tombs that were excavated on the summit of the mound (in Area BB) were found below floors and courtyards of buildings. They included a wide range of tomb types (Loud 1948: 119–132); most were of individual interments and only some contained several skeletons. There is a resemblance between the tomb types dated to Middle Bronze II–III in the northwestern part of the southeastern slope (Squares Q–S 15–16) and those excavated on the tell. In both cases masonry chamber tombs, cist tombs, simple pit tombs, and jar burials were found. The lack of rock-cut pit tombs on the tell is probably a result of the absence of bedrock levels on the artificial mound and does not symbolize social or cultural diversity. I believe that the existence of intramural mortuary practices on the southeastern slope of Tel Megiddo is an indicator to the similarity between land uses of this area and of the summit of the tell during the Middle Bronze Age II–III. Hundreds of tombs excavated in Israel shed light on the mortuary practices of the population of Canaan during the Middle Bronze Age. One of the most characteristic types is the jar burial; nearly all of these burials across Israel were excavated below walls, floors, and courtyards of buildings (Hallote 1994: 226–239; Ilan 1996: 248). Masonry chamber tombs, on the other hand, were found only in a limited number of sites (Gonen 1992: 153), Megiddo being the most important to date. When stratigraphic circumstances allowed, it seems that these were always built below floors of buildings (Ilan 1992: 122–124; Kempinski 2002: 51–54). Consequently, it looks as if the two tomb types reflect, almost always, interments under floors and courtyards of private houses. In the Middle Bronze II–III, mass-burial caves were the most common type of tomb in extramural cemeteries (Hallote 1995: 106). It is therefore unlikely that the greater part of the southeastern slope of Megiddo, had it been the extramural cemetery of the site, would have contained only one tomb of this type (T.24). It is highly improbable that the southeastern slope of Megiddo should demonstrate a ratio between mass-burial caves and individual interments that is almost opposite to that of extramural cemeteries of most other sites. This comparison between the mortuary practices on the slope and those of Middle Bronze Canaan provides a second clue for the domestic nature of the slope during the Middle Bronze Age II–III.

8

eran arie

The number of tombs on the southeastern slope dated to Middle Bronze Age is significantly lower than the number of tombs from the Intermediate Bronze Age and the Late Bronze Age found in the same area. The eighteen tombs dated to the Middle Bronze Age must be weighed against the more than fifty tombs of the Intermediate Bronze Age,5 and a similar number of tombs that were ascribed to the Late Bronze Age (Guy and Engberg 1938: 139–141, Table I). Kempinski and Gonen noted this anomaly; Kempinski tried to solve it by a cultural change he identified in the population of Megiddo during the Middle Bronze Age (Kempinski 1989: 192), while Gonen offered no explanation (Gonen 1992: 41). I propose that the decrease in the number of tombs in the transition from the Intermediate Bronze Age to the Middle Bronze Age, followed by an increase during the Late Bronze Age, suggests that there was another use for this area during the Middle Bronze Age. Further evidence for the function of the area during the Middle Bronze Age is given by the fact that while the Intermediate Bronze and Late Bronze Ages tombs are distributed almost evenly over the excavated area, the Middle Bronze tombs are concentrated in only two main spots (see Fig. 2). This remarkable phenomenon reinforces the assumption of different land usage on the slope during the Middle Bronze Age. Stratigraphy and Spatial Distribution of the Slope Tombs Only in three cases did the excavators of Megiddo examine the stratigraphic connections between tombs and architectural remains retrieved above them. In all three of them reexamination of the data may imply that the architectural elements situated in the vicinity of the Middle Bronze Age tombs has to be re-dated to the same period: Tomb 247 is a jar burial of an infant. The jar was found in an “extensive bed of rock chippings upon which Room 238 (in Stratum ES II) was built, and part of the jar was directly under the southeast corner of that room” (Guy and Engberg 1938: 57). Although the excavators proceed to argue that Room 238 dates to the Late Bronze Age,

5

Some of which were reused during the Late Bronze Age and the Iron Age I.

changes on the southeastern slope of tel megiddo

9

it seems more reasonable that, as was the case with many other jar burials of the Middle Bronze Age, the infant in Tomb 247 was buried underneath the floor and walls of Room 238, which must therefore be dated to the Middle Bronze Age as well. Tomb 254 is a simple pit tomb of a child, found underneath the center of a constructed room. The excavators thought that “the occupation of the room and the burial of the child cannot be far in time; perhaps the child was buried in its former home” (ibid.: 59). In my opinion, had the excavators known about Middle Bronze burial customs (especially of children) under the floors of houses they would have dated the house and the tomb to the same period. The excavators report that the roof of Room D in Tomb 911 had been broken when a cistern or a silo was built above it. They believed that this silo was abandoned and filled during the Middle Bronze II (ibid.: 68). Although Tomb 911 is located in the southern part of the excavated area, this is another example for a domestic use of the slope during the Middle Bronze II–III. Besides these three examples one more case should be mentioned: Tomb 51 is a masonry chamber tomb. Although the excavators mentioned no stratigraphic relation to its superstructure, the plan and photograph of the tomb (ibid.: Pl. 1; Fig. 54) suggest that it was built alongside a wall. As aforementioned, masonry chamber tombs were always built below floors of buildings. Thus the wall that appears on the plan and photograph is probably a wall of the building into its floor Tomb 51 was excavated. This may imply that both the wall and the tomb were built at the same time. The spatial distribution of the tombs on the southeastern slope (Fig. 2) also implies a change in land use during the Middle Bronze Age. The tombs are concentrated in two areas. The first is in the southern part of the excavated area, where mass-burial caves are concentrated. These tombs date from the Middle Bronze I until the end of the Middle Bronze II (Kenyon Pottery Groups A–B). The second area is located on the northwestern part of the slope, where individual interments first appeared during the Middle Bronze II, and continued to exist until the end of the Middle Bronze III. Middle Bronze III tombs appeared only in the northwestern part (almost all of individual interments). Furthermore, three significant facts concerning the architectural elements on the northwestern part of the excavated area of the slope should be considered:

10

eran arie • This excavated “corner” is the richest in architectural remains. • This is the highest area excavated on the slope and it is only ca. 10 m lower than the Middle Bronze strata excavated in the adjacent Area BB (Loud 1948: Figs. 398–401). • The walls in Squares Q–S-15–16 are clearly parallel to the edge of the mound.

A single tomb (T.868) that was found on the southern part of the slope is probably one of the earliest tombs of the Late Bronze Age, when people started again to burry in this part of Megiddo after a gap during the Middle Bronze II–III. Urban Developments and Land Use Changes Discussing land use on the slope of Megiddo, one must mention the expansion of the city during its one of the most conspicuous period of urbanization. The construction of the lower city (the terrace) of Megiddo has recently been dated to the beginning of the Middle Bronze II (Ilan, Franklin, and Hallote 2000: 83). This process shaped the tell, bringing it to its present form and size (the upper mound reaching ca. 8 ha and the terrace, ca. 4 ha). These vast earthworks enabled the expansion of the city toward tracts that had previously not existed. Wall 220, also referred to as Wall K (Guy 1931: Fig. 14) (Fig. 2) was excavated on the southeastern slope (Guy and Engberg 1938: Pl. 1), and interpreted as the foundation of an outer city wall built when the city was at its largest. Guy dated this wall to the 10th century BCE, though on what basis is unclear. A retaining wall (Wall 94/F/15) dated to the Middle Bronze II that was unearthed by the renewed expedition of Tel Aviv University in Area F,6 located on the terrace, was understood as the continuation of Wall 220 (Ilan, Franklin, and Hallote 2000: 80). Both walls were part of the infrastructure of the terrace and were built in order to support the considerable weight of the embankment. It seems that Guy, excavating on the southeastern slope, was not aware that he was digging through the Middle Bronze embankment. If so, the borderline of the terrace must be drawn in a larger scale, and the

6 Retaining wall 94/F/15 was dated to the Middle Bronze II on the basis of the latest pottery retrieved from the fill behind it (Loci 96/F/26 and 96/F/29) and dated to this period (Ilan, Franklin, and Hallote 2000: 78).

changes on the southeastern slope of tel megiddo

11

connecting point between the lower city and the upper mound was in a southern point from the excavated area on the slope (as Guy’s reconstruction of the city during the 10th century BCE). This means that the Middle Bronze tombs found in Squares Q-S-15–16 were west of the retaining wall, and, thus, actually built on the terrace. If this reconstruction is indeed true, most of the architectural remains excavated by the Chicago Expedition in Squares Q-S-15–16 should be interpreted as a living quarter constructed during the Middle Bronze II–III on the southeastern edge of the newly built terrace. Following its construction, the custom of multiple burials in caves ceased completely. The three mass-burial caves from the Middle Bronze I–II, located on the southern part of the slope, may indicate that in the first phase of the Middle Bronze Age this area was used as part of the extramural cemetery of Megiddo. After the embankment was constructed, the cemetery was transferred to another location, and a living quarter was erected on the upper part of the embankment; only at the beginning of the Late Bronze Age was the area of the slope once again used as a cemetery. It looks, therefore, as if the Middle Bronze II–III extramural cemetery of Megiddo has not yet been found. The urban land use of part of the slope during the Middle Bronze II–III as a neighborhood requires a short discussion of the actual size of Megiddo during this period. Three anchors are relevant to this estimation: the retaining wall on the southeastern slope (Wall 220) (Guy and Engberg 1938: Pl. 1); the retaining wall in Area F (Wall 94/F/15) (Ilan, Franklin, and Hallote 2000: Fig. 4.9); and the architectural remains in Area N of the renewed expedition (Peersmann 2006). Area N is located at the foot of the northwestern side of the tell, approximately 100 m to the north of the spring. Of four levels detected in the excavations, three were dated to the Middle Bronze III. All three elements were built to an approximate height of 137 m a.s.l. If we drew a virtual circumferential line around Tel Megiddo at this height, we would find that the size of Megiddo at its peak, during the Middle Bronze III, reached approximately 13.5 ha–1.5 ha more than the accepted size of 12 ha. This calculation affects the size of the population proportionately. Furthermore, habitation on slopes of mounds was probably a wide phenomenon, and should be taken into account when dealing with urban rank-size hierarchy and population estimates (cf. Broshi and Gophna 1986: 86; Finkelstein 1992: 208).

12

eran arie Social and Cultural Significance

Burial assemblages—when found sealed—represent cultural values and social organizations in the best manner, because they reflect a frozen point in time (Chapman and Randsborg 1981). The importance of Middle Bronze burial assemblages is particularly noteworthy because of their extensive distribution and the abundance of finds they display (Hallote 1995: 93–94). Diversity in burial types most probably reflects social variability (Ilan 1992: 133–135), adding further meaning to the assemblages they yield. The fact that so many tombs were found in urban areas under living surfaces might shed light on the tight link between life and death. I believe that the land use changes that took place on the slope of Tel Megiddo, after it had served as a cemetery for hundreds of years (until the construction of the ramparts in the beginning of Middle Bronze II), have social and cultural significance. Earthworks that sealed earlier remnants dating to the beginning of the Middle Bronze Age are identified at additional sites as well. The strong rampart of Tel Dan, which was constructed during the end of the Middle Bronze I, seals small domestic buildings that were part of a village (Ilan 1996: 163–164). Underneath their floors three jar burials (Tombs 902b–902d) and a cist tomb (Tomb 23) were found (ibid.: 167–168, 203–204). A similar phenomenon was observed at Tel Lachish where poorly built walls of buildings were uncovered below the Middle Bronze rampart (Tufnell 1958: Pls. 5: 3–5, 90). Under these walls three pit tombs (Tombs 145, 157, 173) dated to the Middle Bronze I were unearthed (ibid.: 62). In both cases, the tombs found below architectural remains facilitate the identification and dating of this phenomenon. In Yoqne{am, City Wall 415, which was dated to the Middle Bronze Age I, sealed earlier rock-cut Burial Cave 2489 dated to the earliest phase of Middle Bronze I (Livneh and Ben-Tor 2005: 11–16). It seems that also in nearby Tel Ma{amer three shaft tombs from the Middle Bronze I–II found during construction works near the tell were covered by a rampart (Druks 1982: 1, Fig. 1, Pl. I: 4). In addition, three tombs (Tombs 9, 13, 17) from the earliest phases of Middle Bronze II excavated at Beth-Shemesh were sealed by the city wall that was erected in a later phase (Grant 1929: 25–26). It might also be that Tomb 1181 from Hazor was sealed by the fortification of the city, although their stratigraphic relationship is debated (Maeir 1997: 317–319; contra Yadin 1972: 201–206).

changes on the southeastern slope of tel megiddo

13

It should be noted that while the examples from Dan and Lachish illustrate a situation of earthworks covering domestic buildings under which tombs were dug, at Megiddo, Yoqne{am, Tel Ma{amer, BethShemesh, and perhaps at Hazor, fortifications from the Middle Bronze Age sealed isolated burials that were part of extramural cemeteries. During the enlargements of these cities, while constructing the huge earthworks, parts of these cemeteries were covered. In both cases, once the earthworks had been constructed, access to the tombs was denied and they were neglected until revealed in the archaeological excavations. The builders of the great Middle Bronze ramparts invested essential resources such as time, raw material, and labor in their construction. Bunimovitz and Finkelstein defined these earthworks as a symbol of power and a testimony to conspicuous consumption (Bunimovitz 1992: 225–228; Finkelstein 1992: 212–214). The military role of these structures was called into question and they were interpreted as a mark of social and political status, which can now be explained against the background of competition between Canaanite city-states as part of peer polity interaction. The construction of earthworks contributed to the integration of social solidarity of the different groups in the cities, and to the intensification of the power of social elites, which, in turn, enabled the development of stratified urban societies (Bunimovitz 1992: 228). In light of this context, the covering and sealing of the tombs by the Middle Bronze ramparts must be reexamined. In my opinion, it seems that sealing the tombs, thus keeping them from being accessed, reinforces the assumption that the construction of these earthworks was imposed on their builders by social elites. It seems logical that the people who were buried in these tombs were not ancestors of these elites. The sealing of the tombs is further evidence for the irrationality of the construction of these earthworks, and it emphasizes, once again, the existence of a central authority that controlled the gathering, concentration, and allocation of the limited resources available. The land use change that took place in Megiddo during the Middle Bronze II—from a cemetery to a domestic neighborhood—testifies to social elites competing over and aspiring to political power. This was manifested in the form of massive constructions motivated by the desire for control and domination, while neglecting the dead. New habitation at the time of the recently erected rampart (during the Middle Bronze

14

eran arie

II–III) probably attests to another phenomenon relating to the demographic growth in Middle Bronze population. During the beginning of the Late Bronze Age, when the population of Megiddo was reduced and the size of the city had decreased respectively, the southeastern slope was once again used as a cemetery.

changes on the southeastern slope of tel megiddo

15

References Beck, P. 1985. The Middle Bronze Age IIA Pottery from Aphek, 1972–1984: First Summary. Tel Aviv 12: 181–203. ——. 2000. The Middle Bronze Age IIA Pottery Repertoire: A Comparative Study. In: Kochavi, M., Beck, P., and Yadin, E., eds. Aphek-Antipatris I: Excavation of Areas A and B. The 1972–1976 Seasons. Tel Aviv: 239–254. Bietak, M. 2002. Relative and Absolute Chronology of the Middle Bronze Age: Comments on the Present State of Research. In: Bietak, M., ed. The Middle Bronze Age in the Levant: Proceedings of an International Conference on MBIIA Ceramic Material. Vienna, 24th of January –28th of January 2001. Vienna: 29–42. Broshi, M. and Gophna, R. 1986. Middle Bronze Age II Palestine: Its Settlements and Population. BASOR 261: 73–90. Bunimovitz, S. 1992. The Middle Bronze Age Fortifications in Palestine as a Social Phenomenon. Tel Aviv 19: 221–234. Chapman, R. and Randsborg, K. 1981. Approaches to the Archaeology of Death. In: Chapman, R., Kinnes, I., and Randsborg, K., eds. The Archaeology of Death (New Directions in Archaeology). Cambridge: 1–24. Cohen, S. L. 2002. Canaanites, Chronologies, and Connections: The Relationship of Middle Bronze Age IIA Canaan to Middle Kingdom Egypt. Winona Lake, IA. Dever, W. G. 1976. The Beginning of the Middle Bronze Age in Syria-Palestine. In: Cross, F. M., Lemke, W. E., and Miller, P. D., eds. Magnalia Dei: The Mighty Acts of God. Essays on the Bible and Archaeology in Memory of G. Ernest Wright. Garden City: 3–38. Druks, A. 1982. Early Tombs at Tell {Amr. {Atiqot (Hebrew Series) 8: 1–6 (Hebrew with English summary). Dunayevsky, I. and Kempinski, A. 1973. The Megiddo Temples. ZDPV 89: 161– 187. Epstein, C. 1965. An Interpretation of the Megiddo Sacred Area during Middle Bronze Age II. IEJ 15: 204–221. Finkelstein, I. 1992. Middle Bronze Age ‘Fotifications’: A Reflection of Social Organization and Political Formation. Tel Aviv 19: 201–220. Finkelstein, I., Ussishkin, D., and Halpern, B. 2000. Introduction: The Megiddo Expedition. In: Finkelstein, I., Ussishkin, D., and Halpern, B., eds. Megiddo III: The 1992–1996 Seasons (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 18). Tel Aviv: 1–13. Gerstenblith, P. 1983. The Levant at the Beginning of the Middle Bronze Age. Philadelphia. Gonen, R. 1992a. Burial Patterns and Cultural Diversity in Late Bronze Age Canaan. Winona Lake, IN. ——. 1992b. Structural Tombs in the Second Millenium BC. In: Kempinski, A. and Reich, R., eds. The Architecture of Ancient Israel from the Prehistoric to the Persian Periods. Jerusalem: 151–160. Grant, E. 1929. Beth Shemesh (Palestine): Progress of the Haverford Archaeological Expedition. Haverford. Guy, P. L. O. 1931. New Light from Armageddon: Second Provisional Report (1927–29) on the Excavations at Megiddo in Palestine (Oriental Institute Publications 9). Chicago. Guy, P. L. O. and Engberg, R. M. 1938. Megiddo Tombs (Oriental Institute Publications 33). Chicago. Hallote, R. S. 1994. Mortuary Practices and Their Implications for Social Organization in the Middle Bronze Southern Levant (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago). Chicago. ——. 1995. Mortuary Archaeology and the Middle Bronze Age Southern Levant. Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology 8.1: 93–122. ——. 2001. Tombs, Cult, and Chronology: A Reexamination of the Middle Bronze Age Strata of Megiddo. In: Wolff, S. R., ed. Studies in the Archaeology of Israel and

16

eran arie

Neighboring Lands. In Memory of Douglas L. Esse (SAOC 59; ASOR Books 5). Chicago and Atlanta: 199–214. Ilan, D. 1992. Mortuary Practices at Tel Dan in the Middle Bronze Age: A Reflection of the Canaanite Society and Ideology. In: Campbell, S. and Green, A., eds. The Archaeology of Death in the Ancient Near East: Annual Meeting of the British Association for Near Eastern Archaeology, Birmingham 9–11.11.1990 (Oxbow Monograph in Archaeology 51) Oxford: 117–139. ——. 1995. The Dawn of Internationalism: The Middle Bronze Age. In: Levy, T. E., ed. The Archaeology of Society in the Holy Land. London: 297–319. ——. 1996. The Middle Bronze Age Tombs. In: Biran, A., ed. Dan I: A Chronicle of the Excavations, the Pottery Neolithic, the Early Bronze Age and the Middle Bronze Age Tombs. Jerusalem: 161–267. Ilan, D., Franklin, N., and Hallote, R. S. 2000. Area F. In: Finkelstein, I., Ussishkin, D., and Halpern, B., eds. Megiddo III: The 1992–1996 Seasons (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 18). Tel Aviv: 75–103. Ilan, D., Hallote, R. S., and Cline, E. H. 2000. The Middle and Late Bronze Age Pottery from Area F. In: Finkelstein, I., Ussishkin, D., and Halpern, B., eds. Megiddo III: The 1992–1996 Seasons (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 18). Tel Aviv: 186–222. Kempinski, A. 1974. Canaan (Syria-Palestine) during the Last Stage of the MB IIB, 1650–1550 B.C. (Ph.D. dissertation, Hebrew University). Jerusalem (Hebrew). ——. 1989. Megiddo: A City-State and Royal Centre in North Israel. Munich. ——. 2002. Area C. In: Scheftelowitz, N. and Oren, R., eds. Tel Kabri: The 1986–1993 Excavation Seasons (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 20). Tel Aviv: 35–54. Kenyon, K. M. 1958. Some Notes on the Early and Middle Bronze Age Strata of Megiddo. EI 5: 51*–60*. ——. 1969. The Middle and Late Bronze Age Strata at Megiddo. Levant 1: 25–60. Kochavi, M. and Yadin, E. 2002. Typological Analysis of the MBIIA Pottery from Tel Aphek According to Its Stratigraphic Provenance. In: Bietak, M., ed. The Middle Bronze Age in the Levant: Proceedings of an International Conference on MBIIA Ceramic Material. Vienna, 24th of January –28th of January 2001. Vienna: 189–225. Livneh, A. and Ben-Tor, A. 2005. The Architecture and Stratigraphy of the Middle Bronze Age. In: Ben-Tor, A., Ben-Ami, D., and Livneh, A., eds. Yoqne{am III: The Middle and Late Bronze Ages. Final Report of the Archaeological Excavations (1977–1988) (Qedem Reports 7). Jerusalem: 11–39. Loud, G. 1948. Megiddo II: Seasons of 1935–39 (Oriental Institute Publications 62). Chicago. Maeir, A. M. 1997. Tomb 1181: A Multiple-Interment Burial Cave of the Transitional Middle Bronze Age IIA–B. In: Ben-Tor, A. and Bonfil, R., eds. Hazor V: An Account of the Fifth Season of Excavation, 1968. Jerusalem: 295–340. Peersmann, J. 2006. Area N. In: Finkelstein, I., Ussishkin, D., and Halpern, B., eds. Megiddo IV: The 1998–2002 Seasons (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 24). Tel Aviv. Tufnell, O. 1958. Lachish IV: The Bronze Age. London. ——. 1973. The Middle Bronze Age Scarab-Seals from Burials on the Mound at Megiddo. Levant 5: 69–82. Ward, A. and Dever, W. G. 1994. Scarab Typology and Archaeological Context: An Essay on Middle Bronze Age Chronology. San Antonio. Wright, G. E. 1965. The Archaeology of Palestine. In: Wright, G. E., ed. The Bible and the Ancient Near East: Essays in Honor of William Foxwell Albright. Garden City: 85–139. Yadin, Y. 1972. Hazor: The Head of all Those Kingdoms (Schweich Lectures 1970). London.

THE APPEARANCE OF ROCK-CUT BENCH TOMBS IN IRON AGE JUDAH AS A REFLECTION OF STATE FORMATION Alexander Fantalkin Introduction The emergence of statehood in Judah has been the subject of numerous studies over the last few decades.1 Although the matter is still debated, the archaeological data collected so far supply, in my view, no clear evidence for the existence of a fully developed state in Judah before the late 9th–early 8th centuries BCE.2 In what follows, I will point out several factors that agree with the archaeological record and which may also be interpreted as reliable signs of statehood in Iron Age Judah. The main issue I wish to concentrate on is the appearance of burial practices connected with the use of so-called bench tombs in Iron Age Judah. The consensus among most scholars is that rock-cut bench tombs are a Judahite phenomenon, characterizing both the United Monarchy and the Kingdom of Judah. Such a reconstruction, however, fails to provide a reasonable explanation for the fact that bench tombs in the Judean core area (the Jerusalem Hills) appear only in the 8th century BCE, while in other areas such tombs arrive significantly earlier. Is there a connection between the appearance of bench tombs throughout the Kingdom of Judah during the 8th century BCE and its emergence as a fully developed state? I argue that the widespread appearance of

1 References regarding the emergence of statehood in Judah are numerous; for collections of essays addressing the subject, see, e.g., Lipi…ski 1991; Finkelstein and Na aman 1994; Levy 1995; Fritz and Davies 1996; Handy 1997; Gitin et al. 1998; Vaughn and Killebrew 2003; see, also Finkelstein and Silberman 2001; 2006; Halpern 2001; Na aman 2002; Routledge 2004: 114–132; Herzog and Singer-Avitz 2004; Fantalkin and Finkelstein 2006. 2 For a number of alternatives and different perspectives, cf. Jameson-Drake 1991; Finkelstein 1999; Cahill 2003; Herzog and Singer-Avitz 2004; Mazar 2005; Fantalkin and Finkelstein 2006; Na aman 2007.

18

alexander fantalkin

bench tombs throughout the Kingdom of Judah during the Iron Age IIB is a reflection of state formation, accompanied by the creation of new elites, who apparently adopted this burial practice. But first a few introductory notes are necessary. The intensive research of rock-cut bench tombs in Iron Age Judah, as well as of relevant biblical sources, has resulted in numerous summaries, which offer a wide range of chronological, architectural and sociological viewpoints (e.g., Loffreda 1968; Brichto 1973; Ribar 1973; Abercrombie 1979; Spronk 1986; Lewis 1989; Bloch-Smith 1992a; Ussishkin 1993; Barkay 1994; Burkes 1999: 9–33; Yezerski 1999; Friedman and Overton 2000; Schmidt 2000; Wenning 2005). This extensive database, developed since the undertaking of the Survey of Western Palestine in the 1870s, provides considerable information regarding burial customs of the inhabitants of Judah during the monarchic period. Recent summaries include nearly 300 rock-cut bench tombs dated to that period (Barkay 1994; Yezerski 1995), and archaeology is likely to increase this number. From a typological perspective, bench tombs may be divided into several main groups (for the most up-to-date summary, see Yezerski 1999). The first attempt to demonstrate continuity in development between the different types of bench tombs was made by Loffreda who discerned five basic types and three sub-types, arranged typologically and chronologically from the simplest to the most complex (Loffreda 1968: 265–287). However, Loffreda’s evolutionary scheme is misleading since it has been shown that some types existed simultaneously (e.g., Borowski 1994: 46). According to Barkay (1994: 162; 1999), the typological differences between rock-cut bench tombs may reflect various dwelling types in Judah, as well as the social status of those interred. In addition, the simultaneous existence of several typological-architectural groups probably attests to regional differences as well (Yezerski 1999). But despite architectural differences, rock-cut bench tombs most probably reflect an identical conceptualization of the afterlife (cf. Osborne 2007; Suriano 2007).3 The absolute dates of the bench tombs are based on limited ceramic finds; those discovered looted are dated by stylistic comparison with

3 For the purpose of the present article, the typological differences between bench tombs are insignificant, since all cases (including so-called arcosolium type) share a common concept of a bench on which the deceased was laid.

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

19

securely dated tombs. A number of similar elements in the funerary architecture of neighboring countries may provide additional information for the absolute chronology of bench tombs in Judah (Ussishkin 1993: 303–316). A few inscriptions that were found in several caves may serve as further supporting evidence for the accepted chronology. Their chronology and paleography have been discussed sufficiently elsewhere (e.g., Naveh 1963; Dever 1969–1970; Cross 1970; Lemaire 1976; Zevit 1984; Hadley 1987; Ussishkin 1993: 241–254; Mathys 1996).4 The distribution of bench tombs, at least during the 8th–7th centuries BCE, corresponds, on the whole, to the territory of Judah at that time (Yezerski 1999).5 Concentrations of a number of burial caves from the same period in one place may indicate cemeteries. These have been discovered proximate to large and medium-sized settlements. In addition to Jerusalem, where the density of burial caves is the largest, bench tomb cemeteries are known from numerous other Judahite sites (for the list of cemeteries, see Barkay 1994: 114, n. 55 with earlier references). On the other hand, sometimes a single cave is found in the hinterland, unaccompanied by any other architectural remains. Such caves, as Barkay (1994: 105) points out, should most likely be attributed to farms, the remnants of which have disappeared over time. Discussion Can Bench Tombs in Iron Age Judah Serve as an Indicator of Social Rank? Any scientific investigation of the burial customs of ancient societies should first consider the finds themselves (the tombs and their contexts) as well as historical sources, if such exist. Such evidence is obviously not sufficient to create a complete picture of the significance and implications of an ancient society’s burial customs. It is a difficult task to analyze funeral finds in an attempt to uncover what light they may shed on societies with complex social and economic hierarchies

4 Parker’s (2003) recent suggestion that it is possible to interpret a considerable part of Iron Age graffiti found in caves in Judah as expressions of refugees hiding away from enemies does not diminish the chronological value of these inscriptions in establishing the absolute chronology of the bench tombs. 5 The presence of bench tombs in Transjordan (e.g., Meqabelein, Sahab, and Dhiban) is of minor significance compared to that in the Cisjordan and does not weaken Yezerski’s main argument.

20

alexander fantalkin

(cf. Binford 1971; Chapman and Randsborg 1981; Morris 1987; 1992; and see in general Pearson 1999). When dealing with burial practices in complex societies, particularly in cases such as Iron Age Judah, where the number of known burials is impressive, one should always keep in mind that despite their visibility in the archaeological record, these remains might represent only a small portion of an ancient population. It is very likely that the majority of the population of Iron Age Judah used simple pit graves, which left no trace in the archaeological record (De Vaux 1965: 58; Spronk 1986: 239; Bloch-Smith 1992a: 149–150; Hopkins 1996: 129–132; Barkay 1999: 100). Thus, rock-cut bench tombs discovered in Jerusalem represent, according to Barkay (1990: 103), only about 1.5% of all the deceased in the city during the Monarchic period.6 It seems that most of Jerusalem’s population (most probably consisting of the lower classes), as in other parts of the Land of Israel, were buried in simple pit graves. The existence of this custom is firmly attested in the Bible (e.g., 2 Kings 23: 6; Jer. 26: 23; 31: 39–40).7 From an archaeological perspective, on the other hand, the evidence for this practice is scarce, and so far it has been found only at Lachish (Tufnell 1953: 171–249). The limited survival of such practices in the archaeological record should not come as a surprise, however, since a similar pattern is attested toward the end of the Second Temple period. So far, only four sites in Jerusalem from this period have yielded a limited number of simple pit graves, consisting of a shallow pit ca. 0.5 m deep (Kloner 1980: 244).8 6 This is based upon Broshi’s estimates (1974; 1977; 1990; see also Broshi and Finkelstein 1992). It is beyond the scope of this paper to discuss the reliability of methods for estimating population size based on archaeological finds (cf. Lipschits 2003); but in fact, even if Broshi’s estimates, especially for Jerusalem, are exaggerated (cf. Na aman 2007 with earlier references), there is still an enormous gap between the number of preserved caves and the estimated number of inhabitants. 7 It should be noted that some of these biblical references may also point to the existence of mass burials in the vicinity of Jerusalem. These may have been used at times of exceptional mortality brought on by epidemics, earthquakes, or significant military conflicts. From an archaeological perspective this practice may be observed in the case of Lachish (Tufnell 1953: 193–194). An additional example of mass burials attested at Area D in Ashdod, where the communal burial pits were located within the dwelling units, remains unclear; although, most probably, these mass burials should be connected to the assault of Sargon II (Bachi and Ben-Dov 1971: 92–94; Bloch-Smith 1992a: 29; Finkelstein and Singer-Avitz 2001: 250, n. 18). The existence of collective burial pits outside the city of Rome (so-called puticuli), confirmed by literary sources and archaeology (Hopkins 1983: 207–210; Morris 1992: 42), may provide a good parallel for communal burial pits that presumably existed in the vicinity of Jerusalem. 8 These simple pit graves should not be confused with the so-called Qumran-type graves (Schultz 2006 with further references), recently discovered at Beth Zafafa (Zissu and Moyal 1998; cf. also Puech 1998; Hachlili 2000).

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

21

Even though it is obvious from a demographic point of view that most of the ancient population must have used archaeologically invisible pit graves, this fact is often overlooked during discussions of burial customs. For instance, concerning burial practices near the end of the Second Temple period, several scholars believe that the gathering of bones in ossuaries was a ritual practiced by the Jewish nation as a whole (Kloner 1980: 252; Hachlili 1994: 187). The scarcity of rock-cut tombs, in comparison to the assumed population size, suggests, however, that mainly the aristocracy practiced this burial custom, while the majority of the population, unable to purchase a family rock-cut tomb and ossuaries, is likely to have been buried in simple pit or cist graves.9 The assumed simultaneous existence of many simple pit graves and the concentration of groups of rock-cut bench tombs in the vicinity of numerous Judahite cities during the Late Iron Age (8th–7th and the beginning of 6th centuries BCE) may be examined in accordance with Saxe’s “Hypothesis 8.” According to Saxe (1970: 119), “to the degree that corporate group rights to use and/or control crucial but restricted resources are attained and/or legitimized by means of lineal descent from the dead (i.e. lineal ties to ancestors), such groups will maintain formal disposal areas for the exclusive disposal of their dead, and conversely.” Saxe’s method was modified by Goldstein, who had already pointed out that considering the wide range of variability in cultures, the major problem found in the applications of “Hypothesis 8” is “the low probability that certain groups, even when in similar economic and environmental conditions, will symbolize and ritualize aspects of their organization in precisely the same way” (1979: 61). In line with trends in New Archaeology, Saxe’s attempt to construct a body of theory about the sociological significance of burial, formulated as a set of eight hypotheses tested by statistical method, received a great deal of attention from the postprocessual critics of the 80s (for a recent summary, reopening the previous debate, see Morris 1991 with earlier references; and Pearson 1999: 29–30). The general outcome of this critique was expressed by Morris in the following manner: “while Saxe’s theories clearly have relevance, they are always only one among many arguments being voiced about funerary behaviour” (1991: 148). While I accept this postulate, I still find it appropriate to scrutinize the emergence of Judahite rock-cut bench tomb cemeteries, most probably accompanied

9

For additional discussion, see Regev 2000; Peleg 2002.

22

alexander fantalkin

by simple pit graves (not always necessarily in the immediate vicinity of the rock-cut caves), in the light of several of Saxe’s claims. In both cases there is a clear tendency toward exclusive disposal of the group’s dead by creating well-defined areas, which function as formal cemeteries. It is reasonable to assume that this spatial organization points to monopolization of crucial but limited resources by the members of the group buried in rock-cut bench tombs. These limited resources included the land and the water, as well as the bedrock suitable for hewing tombs, and were further limited by their necessary proximity to the city.10 The biblical tradition of family burials (cf. 2 Sam. 17: 23; 21: 14; 2 Kings 14: 20; 23: 30) and the archaeological evidence for prolonged use of rock-cut bench tombs agree with the assumption that monopolization of power was achieved through inheritance. On the other hand, the second, much larger group, the archaeological evidence of which is scarce, consisted of simple pit graves. It is most probable that unlike the former group, disposal of this group’s dead in well-defined bounded areas was not related to lineal descent. In this case such linkage, if it existed at all, was probably more generalized: All those buried in a particular field belonged to a distinct group connected by “mythological” ancestors (Patriarchs? Eponyms? Heroes?). Assuming that crucial yet restricted resources, at least within city limits, were monopolized by the population buried in rock-cut bench tombs, it may be suggested that the emergence of formal cemeteries consisting of simple pit graves was inspired by the elites buried in rock-cut bench tombs in an attempt to organize the immediate space, shared by both groups.11 This brings us to the conclusion that every possible reconstruction concerning burial customs during the period of the Late Monarchy, based on the database of rock-cut bench tombs, must take into account the assumption that they mostly reflect the customs of a wealthy elite population. Such an observation appears to be in accordance with Tainter’s conclusions regarding the importance of energy expenditure in mortuary practices (i.e. the overall amount of energy expended on disposing the body, including body treatment, grave construction, funeral duration, and material contributions to the funeral), as a good indicator of social rank (Tainter 1978; see, however, McHugh 1995: 8–13 and Pearson 1999: 10 For a wide range of material and social issues, such as access to natural resources, management of waste, and proximity to kin and social equals, which might have appeared because of the population’s agglomeration within the cities, see, e.g., Fletcher 1995; Morgan and Coulton 1997. 11 According to Tubul (2007: 195–196), there may be even a deliberate semantic distinction between the use of the two plural forms for the word “grave” in the Bible.

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

23

31, 74–5). To sum up, the numerous rock-cut bench tomb cemeteries attested near Judahite cities during the Late Iron Age may reflect the high “vertical” position of the deceased, united by belonging to elite status “corporate” groups, which in turn reveals their “horizontal” social position (cf. Carr 1995). Can Bench Tombs in Iron Age Judah Serve as an Indicator of State Formation? The affiliation of 8th–7th-century Judahite bench tombs (at least those near the cities) with urban elites is of particular significance, though the importance of this fact is not always clearly acknowledged.12 The transformation of traditional Judahite culture of the 10th–9th centuries BCE, characterized by patrilineal and individual kinship, to an elite one near the end of the 8th and during the 7th centuries BCE was demonstrated in two extensive studies (Halpern 1991; 1996; see also Simkins 2004).13 According to Halpern, the emergence of the monotheistic urban elite, which gained ascendancy in Judah under Kings Hezekiah, Manasseh, and Josiah, is reflected inter alia in Israelite burial customs. Halpern notes that Israelite rock-cut tombs prior to the 7th century BCE were multichambered, with space for at least four generations, and as such, may reflect what he calls “clan section.” In the 7th century BCE this type was replaced by a single-chambered type, where “the old clan sections were breaking down as tomb groups; the extended family now cared individually for its own dead” (Halpern 1996: 326).14 I agree with Halpern’s suggestion that 8th–7th-century Judahite bench tombs mainly reflect newly created urban elites; however, his suggestion regarding the change in burial practices in the 7th century BCE lacks evidence in the archaeological record. Firstly, it is virtually impossible to differentiate typologically between Iron Age burial caves of the 8th

For the general acceptance that rock-cut tombs probably reflect the higher classes, see De Vaux 1965: 58; Spronk 1986: 239; Bloch-Smith 1992a: 149; Kletter 2002: 38. 13 In fact, quite a similar approach may be detected already in Causse’s works (1934; 1937). According to him, the establishment of the monarchy led to increased social differentiation, and as a result of it a “group” collective mentality of the tribal and early Monarchic period was replaced by a more individualistic way of thinking toward the end of the monarchy and thereafter. 14 For a view that in both the urban and rural environments these tombs might have represented extended families, see Barkay 1999. According to him, it is hard to accept Faust’s reconstruction regarding the differences in family structure between cities and villages during the Iron Age II. Faust (1999a) suggested that extended families are represented in the rural sector, while nuclear families dwelt in most of the small four-room houses in the urban sector. 12

24

alexander fantalkin

and 7th centuries BCE (Yezerski 1999: 263). Secondly, it is a well-known fact that the vast majority of the single-chambered tombs were used by many generations, since the skeletons were removed to the so-called repositories. Thus, for instance, the repository of one of the caves at Ketef Hinnom, established toward the end of the Iron Age, yielded the remains of about 100 individuals (Barkay 1992: 371; 1999: 97). Another example comes from a 7th-century-BCE cave on the western slope of Mount Zion where the remains of 43 individuals were identified (Arensburg and Rak 1985). Besides this, multichambered bench tombs are attested toward the end of the Iron Age, especially in the area of Jerusalem. Ample demonstration of this practice may be seen, for instance, in the elaborate tombs of St. Ètienne Monastery in Jerusalem. Halpern apparently confused his attribution of multichambered Late Bronze/Iron Age I caves with the Israelite clan sections (Halpern 1996, 297, n. 17). Those caves, maintaining the Late Bronze tradition, have nothing to do with the “proto-Israel” of the Iron Age I or inhabitants of Judah of the Iron Age IIA. Despite this, Halpern is correct in pointing out that there is a change in Judahite burial practices during the final stages of the Iron Age. However, the real change is not in the shift between multichambered rock-cut tombs to single-chambered ones, but between the lack of rock-cut bench tombs in the central highlands during the Iron Age I and IIA and their sudden appearance during the Iron Age IIB (8th–7th centuries BCE). The lack of burials in the central highlands of Palestine during the Iron Age I has recently been addressed by Kletter (2002). According to him, this is a meaningful phenomenon, which together with the change in settlement patterns and diet habits may serve as an additional indicator of a radical change in the central highlands between the Late Bronze Age and Iron Age I.15 In fact, the same lack of burials is attested during the Iron Age IIA, mid-late 10th–9th centuries BCE,16 at least in the Judean Highlands. In what follows, my main objective is to find a reasonable explanation for the striking dissimilarity in the appearance of burial practices 15 Bloch-Smith’s critique of Kletter’s suggestion is not convincing since the number of Iron Age I burials attested in the central highlands and gathered by her is extremely small (Bloch-Smith 2003: 424; 2004). Faust (2004), on the other hand, suggests that the lack of Iron Age I burials in the central highlands points to an ideology of simplicity and egalitarianism among the “proto-Israelites.” 16 For suggested chronology, see Herzog and Singer-Avitz 2004; Fantalkin and Finkelstein 2006.

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

25

connected with the use of rock-cut bench tombs throughout different parts of the Land of Israel. The main question that should be addressed is why bench tombs in the Judean core area (the Jerusalem Hills) do appear only during the 8th century BCE, while in the coastal area—the Shephelah and even the northern Negev—this practice was adopted considerably earlier? Previous explanations, based on scholarly consensus regarding the historicity of the United Monarchy in the days of David and Solomon, fail to explain this dissimilarity. According to these explanations, the Shephelah, for instance, in accord with biblical testimony, must be seen as a part of the United Monarchy. In turn, that would imply that already in the 10th century BCE the use of rock-cut bench tombs was attested in the areas ruled from Jerusalem, the kingdom’s capital. Thus, according to Barkay: “Judah had its own development in this field (bench tombs, A.F.); it seems that besides the most general connections, it is impossible to pinpoint a continuous typological development of the burial caves, as well as no link can be found between those in Judah and those in other regions of the country where the neighboring kingdoms existed” (1994: 162; translated from Hebrew, A.F.). A similar opinion is expressed by Yezerski, according to whom the distribution of bench tombs within the borders of Judah suggests that “. . . the architectural tradition of burial caves was quite well-established in Judah at the beginning of Iron Age II” (i.e. already in the 10th century BCE, A.F.) (Yezerski 1999: 257; cf. also Amit and Yezerski 2001: 192). It seems that from a factual perspective it is difficult to accept these statements, which contradict available archaeological data. Indeed the numerous examples of bench tombs seem to be quite well established at the beginning of the Iron Age IIA, and even as early as the Late Bronze Age and Iron Age I, though they are admittedly outside the proper Judean core area. These occur mostly at sites in the Shephelah (Bloch-Smith 1992a: 41–52), but also along the coast (ibid.; Badhi 2000; Mazar 2000). The most important point, however, is that sites like Tell Eitun in the Shephelah reveal clear continuity between rock-cut bench tombs of the Late Bronze Age and those of the Iron Age (Ussishkin 1973; Edelstein and Aurant 1992 with earlier references).17 This evidence It seems that a similar situation may have existed at Tel alif, which was occupied continuously from the Late Bronze Age until the Late Iron Age (Seger 1993: 557–559). So far, all excavated and published tombs from Tel alif are dated exclusively to the Iron Age IIA–IIB. Unlike the Judean core area, however, their initial appearance in 17

26

alexander fantalkin

accords well with the first appearance of bench tombs during the Late Bronze Age (14th–13th centuries BCE) in the region discussed, given their limited distribution in areas of the southern Coastal Plain (Tell el- Ajjul) and the Shephelah (Gezer, Lachish, Tell Eitun, and Tell el-Far ah [S]) (Gonen 1992: 22–3, 124–130).18 In Barkay’s opinion it is impossible to find a direct and continuous link between these Late Bronze rock-cut bench tombs and those that begin to appear in Judah from the 10th century BCE, since this burial custom developed in Judah independently (1994: 163). Conversely, Bloch-Smith suggests that all the elements of the standard Iron Age IIB bench-tomb type were already present in the region toward the end of the Late Bronze Age (1992a: 41–52, 137; 1992b: 217). Though acknowledging the fact that there is a clear continuity in burial practices from the Late Bronze Age through the Iron Age I and II, at least in the regions of the Shephelah and the southern coast, Bloch-Smith apparently considers the 10th–9th BCE Shephelah within the boundaries of the United Monarchy (1992a: 15; 1992b; 2002: 123).19 Both Barkay and Bloch-Smith, despite the differences in their approaches, fail to explain why bench tombs began to appear in the Judean Highlands during the 8th century BCE and not sooner. The available data, however, suggests that there is a link between the adoption of this custom by newly emerged 8th-centuryBCE Judahite elites and the conversion of Judah from a dimorphic chiefdom to a fully developed state (cf. Finkelstein 1999).

Tel alif is attested from at least the 9th century BCE (Biran and Gophna 1970; Borowski 1992; 1994). The presence of possible 9th century BCE bench tombs at Tel Ira (Beit-Arieh et al. 1999: 129–169), orbat Anim (Yezerski and Lender 2002), Zahiriyye (Yezerski 1999: 258 with earlier references), and Khirbet Za aq (ibid.: 257–258) is in line with the assumption that during the Iron Age IIA this burial practice was concentrated outside the proper Judean core area; and see below. 18 It should not be forgotten that there is disagreement over the appearance of rockcut bench tombs within the context of the Palestinian Late Bronze Age. According to Waldbaum (1966), trapeze-shaped bench tombs with dromoi, which were exposed at Cemetery 500 at Tell el-Far ah (S), were inspired by Aegean (Mycenaen) prototypes. Stiebing (1970) and Gonen (1992: 22–23, 124–130), however, have suggested that the rock-cut bench tomb, as a type, originated in Cyprus and its appearance in Late Bronze Palestine shows Cypriot influence (see also Gilmour 1995). 19 Bloch-Smith’s views should not be confused with those of Spronk (1986). According to Spronk, there are no typical Israelite graves even in the Iron Age II. Spronk’s theory, however, appears to be unacceptable. Despite the continuity between the Late Bronze and Iron Age burial practices, at least in the southern coast and the Shephelah there is no other alternative but to see the vast majority of 8th–7th centuries BCE bench-tombs as the clear Judahite type (cf. Yezerski 1999).

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

27

Scholars who recognize the appearance of bench tombs as a purely Judahite phenomenon, characterizing both the United Monarchy and the Kingdom of Judah, tend to disregard the archaeologist’s inability to pinpoint a political entity that fits the definition of a state in anthropological-sociological terms (cf. Wright 1977; Spencer 1990), which supposedly existed in Judah by the 10th century BCE. Archaeological evidence concerning Jerusalem, the kingdom’s capital, in the days of David and Solomon and up to the late 9th – early 8th centuries BCE, has so far revealed data insufficient to support the existence of a developed state, characterized by hierarchically organized administrative specialization (cf. Spencer 1998: 17). A recently suggested “view from the border” (Bunimovitz and Lederman 2001: 144–147 with earlier references; cf. also Blakely 2002), which shifts the focus from the problematic core of the Judahite polity, i.e. Jerusalem in the early Iron Age IIA, to its periphery, offers no real help. According to this approach, the crystallization of the United Monarchy during the reigns of David and Solomon may be detected in monumental building activity revealed, for instance, at Tel Beth Shemesh, located at the border zone with Philistia. Bunimovitz and Lederman argue that this may indicate that the emergence of governmental organization in Judah took place much earlier than the 8th century BCE (2001: 145; cf. Finkelstein 2002a). Pushing their evidence still further, one might suggest that the early appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in the Shephelah is in line with the assumption that the earliest traces of statehood, including growing social inequality, will be particularly visible at the borders. It seems, however, that applying the “border approach” to Iron Age IIA Judah would be avoiding the real question. Jerusalem, the supposed core of the “border approach,” is no longer terra incognita, and has not been so for some time (Ussishkin 2003a; Na aman 2007). In Barkay’s words: “in more than 120 years of archaeological investigation in Jerusalem, not one tomb has been found that may be dated to the golden age of the Israelite monarchy, the tenth century BCE” (1992: 371). In fact, the same holds true not just for the tombs: archaeologically, early Iron Age IIA Jerusalem is represented merely by meager pottery and possibly also by the stepped stone structure found in the City of David (Steiner 2001: 42–53; Finkelstein 2001: 108). In this regard, it is worth mentioning that applying Max Weber’s “patrimonial model” to the emergence of the United Monarchy in the Land of Israel (Stager 1985; 1998; Master 2001; cf. Schloen 2001: 49–73, 360, passim) would not

28

alexander fantalkin

be of help either. Although this explanation may fit numerous cases in the ancient Near East, it does not explain the lack of archaeological evidence for the existence of even a patrimonially operated state that ruled over vast territories from Jerusalem in the 10th century BCE.20 It seems that, given the present state of research, one should look for an alternative explanation. In my opinion, the available archaeological data suggests that there is no clear evidence for the existence of a fully developed state in Judah before the late 9th–early 8th centuries BCE.21 This does not negate or deny the existence of a political entity of some sort in the central highlands during the 10th and the better part of the 9th centuries BCE,22 but it does limit its scope. Most probably, local chiefs/kings/rulers, as in previous periods (cf. Bunimovitz 1989; Na aman 1992; 1996a; Finkelstein 1993; 1996), ruled from a few small mountain strongholds (such as early Davidic rulers in Jerusalem) over the sparsely inhabited surrounding region (Ofer 1994; 2001; Lehmann 2003), which included a few agricultural hamlets, while the majority of the population consisted of pastoral or semi-pastoral groups (Zadok 1996: 722; Finkelstein 1999; 2001; 2003; Finkelstein and Silberman 2001: 238–240).

20 Perhaps the most suitable parallel that could bridge the gap between the idea of a great United Monarchy and the lack of archaeological evidence in Jerusalem may come from the Carolingian Empire. The administration of this early medieval empire was focused on a series of palaces (such as Aachen, Paderborn, and Ingelheim), which the emperors, who stood at the heart of a system of patronage, visited as part of their peripatetic routine (Moreland 2001: 396). But even in this case, already during the reign of Charlemagne (768–814 CE), the royal government was increasingly based at Aachen (ibid. with earlier references), implying the necessity of establishing a permanent core-base. This parallel, however, should not be examined cautiously with regard to the historicity of the United Monarchy, due to the fact that, inter alia, the biblical narrative describes Jerusalem as being a capital of the kingdom already during the reign of King David, and as a large and rich city, especially during the glorious reign of King Solomon. 21 It should be noted that based on various interpretations of the same archaeological data, different scholars have reached opposite conclusions concerning the status of Jerusalem (for a rather minimalist, middle-way approach, see Jameson-Drake 1991; Knauf 1991; Niemann 1993; Na aman 1996a; 2007; Steiner 1998; 2003; Finkelstein 1999; 2001; Ussishkin 2003a; Finkelstein and Silberman 2001; 2006; for the opposite view, see Cahill 2003; Kletter 2004; Faust 2005; Mazar 2005). 22 The reference to the “House of David” in the Tel Dan inscription (Biran and Naveh 1993; 1995), as well as possibly on the Mesha Stele (Lemaire 1994), definitely point to the existence of a political entity of some sort in the Judean Highlands already during the 10th–9th centuries BCE. The suspicions raised by some that the Tel Dan inscription is fabricated are not convincing (for the latest attempt, see Gmirkin 2002 with earlier references).

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

29

With regard to the absence of Iron Age I highland burials, Kletter has recently pointed out that it “may indicate a relatively poor society, without a developed class structure and consolidation of wealthy, upper classes. It does not mean complete lack of classes, only that distances between ranks were not large” (2002: 39). Indeed, it is a well-known fact that a certain degree of inequality is inherent even in the most egalitarian groups (Hamilakis 2002: 14 with earlier references). What appears to be of particular importance, however, is that the assumed accumulation of power through the hands of the highland chiefs in Jerusalem, which may have started during the early Iron Age IIA, was not accompanied by the appearance of rock-cut tombs, which began to appear only later on.23 We do not know how the Tell Eitun or Tel alif inhabitants defined themselves in the 10th–9th centuries BCE: maybe it was as tribes of Judah or Simeon, or perhaps their true names were entirely different.24 In any case, their affiliation with the authority ruling in the area of the Jerusalem Hills looks problematic. Based on the archaeological evidence alone, the elite population of the southern Shephelah apparently continued to be buried in rock-cut bench tombs following the tradition prevalent in these areas since the Late Bronze Age. Perhaps what we see here is the renewal of a “New Canaan” of Philistia and the Shephelah, which lasted at least through the better part of the 9th century BCE.25 It would be logical, then, to assume that the integration of the southern Shephelah into the Kingdom of Judah did not take place before the end of the 9th century BCE (cf. Thompson 1992: 292, 409–410). 23 It is worth noting that unlike in the Judean Highlands a modest number of Iron Age IIA rock-cut caves are attested to the north of Jerusalem in the Benjamin Plateau. A few examples were reported from Gibeon (Dajani 1953; Bloch-Smith 1992a: 168–169) and Tell en-Na be (Badé 1931; McCown 1947: 77–100; Bloch-Smith 1992a: 195–196, 207). It is tempting to explain such an “early” appearance of these tombs in this particular area with the rise of the early Israelite polity which was concentrated around Gibeon (Finkelstein 2002b). According to Finkelstein (ibid.), this presumably Saulide polity was assaulted by Shoshenq I in the late 10th century BCE. 24 Bloch-Smith (1992a: 51–52): “It is unclear how early the bench tomb was adopted by the Judahites or when the bench burying population in the southern highlands first identified itself as Judahite. Therefore, for the twelfth and eleventh centuries BCE, the burial evidence illustrates only that the cultural group burying in bench tombs was concentrated in the Tell Aitun to Tell Halif region of the Shephelah.” It seems, however, that on the whole this observation appears to be correct during the Iron Age IIA as well, with possible extension to the northern Negev. 25 The term “New Canaan” here is in accordance with a reference to the “New Canaan” that lasted in the northern valleys until Shoshenq’s campaign (Finkelstein 2001: 108; 2002b; 2003).

30

alexander fantalkin

According to Finkelstein, however, the “missing link” in Judah’s state formation may be found in the 9th-century-BCE Shephelah and in the Beersheba Valley (Finkelstein 2001). He states that there is no alternative but to attribute the massive building activity of Lachish IV, Beer-sheba V, and Arad XI to the Kingdom of Judah. If this was the case, the periphery of the kingdom had already shown signs of statehood prior to the 8th century BCE. Finkelstein’s main reasoning in looking for the transitional phase in the history of Judahite statehood is based on the reasonable assumption that “it is illogical that Judah sprang into life from a void; there must have been a transition phase between the two stages: the sparsely settled tenth century and the densely settled late-eighth century” (ibid.: 106). According to him, this transition phase was achieved within a few decades in the first half of the 9th century BCE, under Omride dominance, and as an outcome of Omride political and economic ambitions (ibid.: 110–112). Although such a reconstruction might be possible (Fantalkin and Finkelstein 2006: 28–30), it still takes us back to the “view from the border” (Bunimovitz and Lederman 2001). It seems to me that the same argument made for the case of 10th-century-BCE Jerusalem should apply to the 9th century BCE as well. Thus, as with 10th-century-BCE Jerusalem, the meager archaeological remains for 9th-century-BCE Jerusalem make it difficult to accept Jerusalem’s control over the Shephelah and the Beersheba Valley during the better part of the 9th century BCE.26 It seems that in order to bridge the gap between the establishment of Lachish IV, Beer-sheba V, and Arad XI, which might have been affiliated with the Judahite state, and the two contrasting archaeological pictures in the history of Jerusalem (the meager remains from the 10th–9th centuries versus the impressive remains from the 8th–7th centuries BCE), one should look for a stronger hypothesis than those previously suggested. I accept that the transformation from an Amarna-type dimorphic entity to the Judahite state was sudden and rapid (cf. Barfield 2001: 36–38). There are several reasons, however, for believing that this 26 Using the Low Chronology perspective (Finkelstein 1999; 2002a, both with earlier references), one may attribute Jerusalem’s stepped stone structure, a small part of a casemate wall, and a few other occupational remains to the 9th century BCE (cf. Reich et al. 2007); nevertheless, these elements are insufficient evidence for the existence of a capital of a large state (Steiner 2001: 42–53, 113–116). Moreover, Finkelstein states that even an (early?) 8th-century-BCE date for the stepped stone structure is plausible (2001: 106).

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

31

transformation was achieved not at some time during the first half of the 9th century BCE but rather near the end of that century. Two major factors seem to contribute to this significant event, which created a new paradigm shortly thereafter. The first is the short period of decline for the Northern Kingdom, throughout the days of Jehu and Jehoahaz, when Israel was pressed by Aram-Damascus. The second is new developments in the region of the Shephelah. During the 10th century BCE, this area seems to have been dominated by Ekron, at least until its destruction, perhaps in the course of Shoshenq’s campaign (Finkelstein 2001: 111; 2002b: 116). Thereafter, it is most plausible that Gath controlled the area of the Shephelah and maybe the Beersheba Valley as well,27 at least until the decline of Gath in the course of Hazael’s campaign.28 If the historicity of this event is accepted,29 the Judahite expansion into the area of the Shephelah might be seen not as the outcome of Omride policy, but as an independent Judahite move, fully exploiting a new opportunity, apparently in the days of Jehoash. The assumed growth in the number of settlements in the hill country to the south of Jerusalem in the 9th century BCE (Ofer 1994: 102–104) provides additional corroboration for this suggestion. In this regard one should also reconsider the historical role of Amaziah and Uzziah in the establishment of Jerusalem’s rule over the territories of the Shephelah and the Beersheba Valley. It seems that the aggressive expansionist policy of Aram-Damascus, resulting in the decline of Gath and the temporary weakening of the Northern Kingdom, may have paved the way for Judah’s expansion and transformation into

27 In both cases it is plausible that their power spread in the north up to the Yarkon area. If one looks for the core—periphery relationships in the southern part of the Land of Israel, the core, at least during the 10th and perhaps most of the 9th centuries BCE, should be placed in Philistia (Knauf 2000: Fig. 4). I cannot accept, however, Knauf ’s suggestion (ibid.: 85) that during the early Iron Age II “Jerusalem should have prospered under the conditions of the Rift Valley trade system together with Philistia.” 28 A major destruction layer recently uncovered at Gath (final Stratum A3) points to the late-9th- century-BCE horizon and was reasonably assigned to Hazael’s campaign (Shai and Maeir 2003; Maeir 2004; Ackermann et al. 2005). 29 The historicity of the conquest of Gath by Hazael king of Aram Damascus (2 Kings 12: 17) is accepted by many scholars (Na aman 1996b: 176–177; 1997: 127; Finkelstein and Singer-Avitz 2001: 242 with earlier references; see also Schniedewind 1998). However, as rightly pointed out by Finkelstein and Singer-Avitz (2001: 242): “A reconstruction of a wide-scale Hazael campaign in the south should await additional support; historical and/or archaeological.”

32

alexander fantalkin

a real regional power (cf. Fantalkin and Finkelstein 2006: 30–32). If this assumed Judahite expansion actually took place, it is necessary to hypothesize a possible confrontation with Ashdod for control over the southern trade network, which Judah apparently won.30 In archaeological terms, such a scenario would mean that Lachish V, for instance, was not integrated within the Kingdom of Judah. There are more reasons to believe that it was under Gath’s jurisdiction. Finkelstein states, however, that both Levels V and IV must be affiliated with Judah. According to him, Lachish V developed, without interruption, into the fortified city of Level IV, which is the forerunner of the impressive late-8th-century-BCE Judahite city of Level III (Finkelstein 2001: 109). However, according to Aharoni (1975: 12, 26–32, 41), the cult room discovered at Lachish V was found destroyed. Remains of the destruction were also reported from Area S (Ussishkin 1997: 319; 2004: 77). In view of the Low Chronology, Level V might be placed in the first half of the 9th century BCE (Finkelstein 2002a; Ussishkin 2004: 78; Fantalkin and Finkelstein 2006: 21–22).31 One may infer, then, that the possible destruction of Level V is connected with the expansion of the Kingdom of Judah, which may have taken place in the last third of the 9th century BCE. Most recently, however, Ussishkin (2004: 77) has suggested that the ash remains uncovered in Area S are the product of domestic activity rather than traces of destruction. Moreover, according to him, the destroyed sanctuary discovered at Level V is Aharoni’s fanciful reconstruction and no such structure existed (Ussishkin 2003b). It seems, however, that in any event Lachish became 30 If there is any validity to the story portrayed in 2 Chron. 26:6 (Finkelstein 2002c: 139 with earlier references) it would corroborate the assumed confrontation with the Philistines for control over the southern trade network in the days of Uzziah, in the early 8th century BCE. 31 Such a scenario would make it impossible to accept Faust’s suggestion to connect the massive appearance of slip and burnish on pottery vessels used for food consumption with the formation of the United Monarchy (2002). According to him, the level of social complexity peaked around 1000 BCE with the formation of the United Monarchy. This process deepened the gender inequalities, and required a new elaborate treatment of vessels used for “masculine” activities (see also Joffe 2002: 442–443 with earlier references, who attributes the appearance of the red burnished pottery to the emergent “royal” culture in the 10th century BCE). It seems, however, that even using the conventional chronology, there is no basis for Faust’s main claim that the use of slipped and burnished pottery reached its peak at some point during the 10th century BCE. Moreover, the wide distribution of slipped and burnished pottery all over the southern Levant, including the Phoenician (Bikai 1978; Lehmann 1996) and Philistine milieu (Bunimovitz and Lederman 2001: 146, n. 59), would undermine Faust’s reconstruction as well.

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

33

part of the Kingdom of Judah not before the foundation of Level IV. A new architectural plan, beginning at Lachish IV and continuing through Level III, may reflect a system of higher-level administrative control, i.e. the Kingdom of Judah (Ussishkin 2004: 82).32 The same scenario most likely accounts for the foundation of the fort of Arad XI.33 It seems that the establishment of the administrative centers at Lachish IV, the fortification system at Beth-shemesh, and the fortress of Arad XI and their affiliation with the Kingdom of Judah, may be placed sometime within the last third of the 9th century BCE.34 Keeping in mind the proposed reconstruction, let us return to the starting point, i.e. the sudden appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in the Judean core-area. Now, it appears that the integration of the southern Shephelah into the Kingdom of Judah near the end of the 9th century BCE led to the dispersion of rock-cut bench tombs throughout the kingdom and their rapid adoption as the accepted Judahite custom, and that these tombs characterized mainly a wealthy (elite) Judahite population from the 8th to the beginning of the 6th centuries BCE. Such an observation appears to be in line with some of Portugali’s theoretical speculations on the emergence of statehood in Judah (1994). Using the “evolutionary” approach of Cavalli-Sforza and Feldman (1981), as well as Haken’s “synergetics” approach (1985),35 he suggests 32 Such a reconstruction agrees with the suggestion that the Lachish palace (on Podia A and B) was first built in Level IV (Aharoni 1975: 41; Ussishkin 1996: 35, n. 4; 1997: 319). It should be noted, however, that even if Podium A was built in Level V (Tufnell 1953: 52–53), the new architectural plan that continued to Level III, started only in Level IV. However, a certain similarity between the pottery of Lachish V and IV (Zimhoni 1997: 171) may suggest that, except for the new masters, the local population around Lachish did not change. 33 It should be emphasized that though the fort of Arad X is similar in size to Arad XI, it differs in numerous details: the architectural layout; the type of fortifications; the erection of the temple; and the construction of a water system (Herzog 2002). Moreover, the pottery of Stratum X is remarkably different from that of Stratum XI (ibid.; Singer-Avitz 2002). It seems that unlike Arad X, whose attribution to the Kingdom of Judah must be certain, the suggested status of Arad XI should be examined with caution. 34 If the fortified administrative center of Beer-sheba V was founded earlier than Lachish IV and Arad XI (Zimhoni 1997: 206–207; Finkelstein 2001: 112, n. 16), it could have been dominated by Gath, at least until Gath’s decline toward the end of the 9th century BCE. 35 For definition and theoretical framework of the “self-organization” paradigm, which is the core of the “synergetics” approach, see Nicolis and Prigogine 1977; Prigogine and Stengers 1984; McGlade and van der Leeuw 1997. For the implications of applying this method to archaeology, see Allen 1982; 1997; Weidlich 1988; Schloen 2001: 57–58.

34

alexander fantalkin

that the emergence of a monarchy in Iron Age Judah might be seen as a socio-spatial mutation of the Canaanite and Philistine system of city-states. Thus, the traditional Israelite societates were “enslaved” by the newly emerged urban civitas, creating a more complex and hierarchical system than its prototype (cf. Frick 1985; Gottwald 2001). In this reconstruction, Portugali apparently refers to the establishment of the United Monarchy. In light of recent understanding, this theory would apply rather to the establishment of the Northern Israelite Kingdom during the 9th century BCE (Finkelstein 1999; 2000; Finkelstein and Silberman 2001: 149–195).36 His basic conclusions, however, seem to be useful with regard to state formation in Judah as well. Thus, one can always suggest that since the use of rock-cut bench tombs in the Canaanite and Philistine milieu is not connected to state formation there is no such a linkage in Iron Age Judah. However, if we employ Portugali’s approach, the adoption of bench tombs by Judah’s new urban elites may be seen as an imitation/mutation of burial practices existing among the urban elites in the neighboring Canaanite and Philistine city-states. These burial practices, borrowed from city-states, were adapted to the newly created system of the national state.37 It seems that the appearance of numerous rock-cut bench tombs in the Judean Hills during the 8th–7th centuries BCE, especially around Jerusalem, may be explained by hypothesizing the formation of a wealthy social class composed of new executive cadres (high-level positions such as the king, king’s family, ministers, executive officials, office heads, etc.).38 36 It should be noted that Faust’s (1999b) analysis of the abandonment of the Iron Age I rural sites in the hill country north of Jerusalem may apply to the rise of the Kingdom of Israel rather than to the establishment of the United Monarchy. It becomes particularly clear if one employs the Low Chronology (cf. ibid.: 25, n. 59). 37 In Israel, i.e. the Northern Kingdom, the situation appears to have been different, because the major urban centers emerged during the 9th century BCE. It is hard to explain, however, why the urbanization of the Kingdom of Israel was not accompanied by the emergence of rock-cut tomb cemeteries, as occurred in the Kingdom of Judah in the 8th century. The known Iron Age II burials from the area of the Kingdom of Israel, despite their modest numbers (Kletter 2002: 30, n. 7 with earlier references; Vitto 2001; Braun 2001), may reflect a multi-ethnic society with a variety of burial practices (Faust 2000; Finkelstein 2000; Finkelstein and Silberman 2001: 191–194). Perhaps the Assyrian destructions of the late 8th century BCE halted the crystallization of standard burial practice in the Kingdom of Israel (Bloch-Smith 1992a: 143–144; Kletter 2002: 30). On the other hand, following the conquest of the Shephelah, the homogenous Judahite elite quickly adopted the bench tomb burial practice, of course modifying and standardizing it. 38 Interestingly, the emergence of statehood in Urartu, during the 9th century BCE, is accompanied by the appearance of elaborate rock-cut funerary caves, which, apparently, served high-level officials (Burney 1995).

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

35

Their appearance serves as the clearest indicator of a newly created social hierarchy.39 It can be reasonably assumed that the representatives of the peripheral Judahite cities (local elites), as well as wealthy farmland owners, also rapidly adopted these burial practices (Halpern 1996; Barkay 1999). Conclusions It has been emphasized that bench tombs can serve as a reliable indicator in attempting to reconstruct the boundaries of the Kingdom of Judah near the end of the Iron Age (Yezerski 1999). Their distribution throughout the kingdom near the end of the Iron Age matches, on the whole, the spatial distribution of the material finds clearly identified as Judahite (cf. Kletter 1999). In this paper I have tried to point out several features that allow us to make a connection between the widespread appearance of rock-cut bench tombs throughout the Kingdom of Judah from the 8th century BCE until the Babylonian conquest and Judah’s emergence as a fully developed state with a material culture of its own. I suggested that Judah’s expansion into the area of the Shephelah and the latter’s integration into the Kingdom of Judah near the end of the 9th century BCE might be seen as a major event in Judah’s transformation into a fully developed state. It should be clearly stated, however, that the appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in Iron Age Judah does not itself indicate state formation. It should be considered rather as

In addition to the widespread adoption of this burial practice, a parallel trend, including imitation of certain architectural elements in funerary architecture at the end of the Iron Age, may be attested as well. Thus, the style of the “Pharaoh’s Daughter” tomb includes Egyptian elements such as an Egyptian cornice and pyramid. This tomb appears to have been a result of pure Egyptian inspiration (Ussishkin 1993: 319). Further examples illustrating Egyptian inspiration are the headrests in Cave No. 2 at St. Ètienne Monastery in Jerusalem. In Barkay’s opinion, these headrests were shaped like the hairstyle of the Egyptian goddess Hathor (1994: 150–151). It can be reasonably assumed that in both cases the imitation of Egyptian elements by the local elite was the source for inspiration (so-called elite emulation, and see Higginbotham 2000: 6–16 for a general explanation of this phenomenon). Accepting this explanation, perhaps we are able to date the above examples more precisely to the last quarter of the 7th century BCE, bearing in mind that during that period Judah became an Egyptian vassal following Assyrian withdrawal from the region (Freedy and Redford 1970: 478, n. 79; Miller and Hayes 1986: 38; Na aman 1991; Fantalkin 2001: 128–147). Although the uncertainty of this reconstruction should be definitely emphasized, I see no basis whatsoever for Bloch-Smith’s (2002: 129) suggestion to attribute the tomb of “Pharaoh’s Daughter” to the 9th century BCE. 39

36

alexander fantalkin

just one of the signs of statehood in Iron Age Judah, in addition to the appearance of monumental architecture, urbanization, widespread writing, literacy, etc. (cf. Finkelstein 2002b with earlier references). Thus, as I have argued that during the formative stages, the elites of the newly emerged Judahite state adopted this type of burial. Thereafter, this modified burial practice became normative and ritualized and, as such, was characterized by uniformity in both the belief in the afterlife and the material expression thereof. Acknowledgments I wish to express my gratitude to E. Bloch-Smith, S. Bunimovitz, I. Finkelstein, R. Greenberg, B. Halpern, E. Lytle, C. Morgan, N. Na aman, O. Tal, D. Ussishkin, and I. Yezerski for their valuable comments on this article. Any responsibility for the ideas expressed here is mine alone.

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

37

References Abercrombie, J. R. 1979. Palestinian Burial Practices from 1200 to 600 BCE (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Pennsylvania). Philadelphia. Aharoni, Y. 1975. Investigations at Lachish: The Sanctuary and the Residency (Lachish V) (Publications of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 4). Tel Aviv. Ackermann, O., Bruins, H., and Maeir, A. 2005. A Unique Human-Made Trench at Tell e-Safi/Gath, Israel: Anthropogenic Impact and Landscape Response. Geoarchaeology 20: 303–327. Allen, P. M. 1982. The Genesis of Structure in Social System: The Paradigm of SelfOrganization. In: Renfrew, C., Rowlands, M. J., and Segraves, B. A., eds. Theory and Explanation in Archaeology. New York: 347–374. Allen, P. M. 1997. Models of Creativity: Toward a New Science of History. In: van der Leeuw, S. E. and McGlade. J., eds. Time, Process and Structured Transformation in Archaeology. London and New York: 39–56. Arensburg, B. and Rak, Y. 1985. Jewish Skeletal Remains from the Period of the Kings of Judea. PEQ 117: 30–34. Amit, D. and Yezerski, I. 2001. Cemetery and Wine Presses at an-Nabi Danyal. IEJ 51: 171–193. Bachi, G. and Ben-Dov, M. 1971. Area D: Stratigraphy and Building Remains. In: Dothan, M., ed. Ashdod II–III: The Second and Third Season of Excavations 1963, 1965 ( Atiqot 9–10). Jeruslaem: 86–94. Badè, W. F. 1931. Some Tombs of Tell en-Nasbeh Discovered in 1929 (Palestine Institute Publication 2). Berkeley. Badhi, R. 2000. An Iron Age Burial Cave at Baqa el-Gharbiya. {Atiqot 39: 7*–12* (Hebrew with English abstract). Barfield, T. J. 2001. The Shadow Empires: Imperial State Formation along the ChineseNomad Frontier. In: Alcock, S. E., D’altroy, T. N., Morrison, K. D., and Sinopoli, C. M., eds. Empires: Perspectives from Archaeology and History. Cambridge and New York: 10–41. Barkay, G. 1990. The Cemeteries of Jerusalem in the Days of the First Temple Period. In: Amit, D. and Goren, R., eds. Jerusalem in the Days of the First Temple. Jerusalem: 102–123 (Hebrew). ——. 1992. The Iron Age II–III. In: Ben-Tor, A., ed. The Archaeology of Ancient Israel. New Haven and London: 302–373. ——. 1994. Burial Caves and Burial Practices in Judah in the Iron Age. In: Singer, I., ed. Graves and Burial Practices in Israel in the Ancient Period. Jerusalem: 96–164 (Hebrew). ——. 1999. Burial Caves and Dwellings in Judah during the Iron Age II. In: Faust, A. and Maeir, A., eds. Material Culture, Society and Ideology: New Directions in the Archaeology of the Land of Israel. Ramat Gan: 96–102 (Hebrew). Beit-Arieh, I., Freud, L., and Baron, A. G. 1999. The Cemetery. In: Beit-Arieh, I., ed. Tel Ira: A Stronghold in the Biblical Negev (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 15). Tel Aviv: 129–169. Bikai, P. M. 1978. The Pottery of Tyre. Warminster. Binford, L. R. 1971. Mortuary Practices: Their Study and Potential. In: Brown, J. A., ed. Approaches to the Social Dimensions of Mortuary Practices (Memoirs of the Society for American Archaeology 25). Washington: 11–22. Biran, A. and Gophna, R. 1970. An Iron Age Burial Cave at Tel Halif. IEJ 20: 151–169. Biran, A. and Naveh, J. 1993. An Aramaic Stele Fragment from Tel Dan. IEJ 43: 81–98. ——. 1995. The Tel Dan Inscription: A New Fragment. IEJ 45: 1–18.

38

alexander fantalkin

Blakely, J. A. 2002. Reconciling Two Maps: Archaeological Evidence for the Kingdoms of David and Solomon. BASOR 327: 49–54. Bloch-Smith, E. 1992a. Judahite Burial Practices and Beliefs about the Dead ( JSOT, Supplement Series 123). Sheffield. ——. 1992b. The Cult of the Dead in Judah: Interpreting the Material Remains. JBL 111: 213–224. ——. 2002. Life in Judah from the Perspective of the Dead. NEA 65: 120–130. ——. 2003. Israelite Ethnicity in Iron I: Archaeology Preserves What Is Remembered and What Is Forgotten in Israel’s History. JBL 122: 401–425. ——. 2004. Resurrecting the Iron I Dead. IEJ 54: 77–91. Borowski, O. 1992. The Iron Age Cemetery at Tel Halif. EI 23: 14*–20*. ——. 1994. Finds from the Iron Age Cemetery at Tel Halif. Atiqot 25: 45–62. Braun, E. 2001. Iron Age II Burials and Archaeological Investigations at orbat Menorim (El-Manara), Lower Galilee. Atiqot 42: 171–182. Brichto, H. C. 1973. Kin, Cult, Land and Afterlife. Hebrew Union College Annual 44: 1–54. Broshi, M. 1974. Expansion of Jerusalem in the Reigns of Hezekiah and Manasseh. IEJ 24: 21–26. ——. 1977. The Counting of the Inhabitants of Ancient Jerusalem. In: Broshi, M., ed. Between Hermon and Sinai: Memorial to Amnon: Studies in the History, Archaeology and Geography of Eretz Israel. Jerusalem: 65–74 (Hebrew). ——. 1990. Population of Jerusalem during the First Temple Period. In: Amit, D. and Gonen, R., eds. Jerusalem in the Days of the First Temple. Jerusalem: 63–67 (Hebrew). Broshi, M. and Finkelstein, I. 1992. The Population of Palestine in Iron Age II. BASOR 287: 47–60. Bunimovitz, S. 1989. The Land of Israel in the Late Bronze Age: A Case Study of Socio-Cultural Change in a Complex Society (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv (Hebrew with English abstract). Bunimovitz, S. and Lederman, Z. 2001. The Iron Age Fortifications of Tel Beth Shemesh: A 1990–2000 Perspective. IEJ 51: 121–147. Burkes, S. 1999. Death in Koheleth and Egyptian Biographies of the Late Period (Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series 170). Atlanta. Burney, C. 1995. Urartian Funerary Customs. In: Campbell, S. and Green, A., eds., The Archaeology of Death in the Ancient Near East. Oxford: 205–208. Cahill, J. M. 2003. Jerusalem at the Time of the United Monarchy: The Archaeological Evidence. In: Vaughn, A. G. and Killebrew, A. E., eds. Jerusalem in the Bible and Archaeology: The First Temple Period. Atlanta: 13–80. Carr, C. 1995. Mortuary Practices: Their Social, Philosophical-Religious, Circumstantial, and Physical Determinants. Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory 2: 105–200. Causse, A. 1934. Du groupe ethnique à la communauté religieuse: Le problème sociologique du judaïsme. Revue d’histoire et de philosophie religieuses 14: 285–335. ——. 1937. Du groupe ethnique à la communauté religieuse: Le problème sociologique de la religion d’Israël (Etudes d’histoire et de philosophie religieuses 33). Paris. Cavalli-Sforza, L. L. and Feldman, N. W. 1981. Cultural Transmission and Evolution: A Quantitative Approach. Princeton. Chapman, R. and Randsborg, K. 1979. Approaches to the Archaeology of Death. In: Chapman, R., Kinnes, I., and Randsborg, K., eds. The Archaeology of Death. Cambridge and New York: 1–24. Cross, F. M. 1970. The Cave Inscriptions from Khirbet Beit Lei. In: Sanders, J. A., ed. Near Eastern Archaeology in the Twentieth Century: Essays in Honor of Nelson Glueck. Garden City, NY: 299–306. Dajani, A. K. 1953. An Iron Age Tomb at Al-Gib. ADAJ 2: 66–74. De Vaux, R. 1965. Ancient Israel I: Social Institutions. New York and Toronto.

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

39

Dever, W. G. 1969–1970. Iron Age Epigraphic Material from the Area of Khirbet el-Köm. Hebrew Union College Annual 40–41: 139–204. Edelstein, G. and Aurant, S. 1992. The “Philistine” Tomb at Tell Eitun. Atiqot 21: 23–41. Fantalkin, A. 2001. Me ad ashavyahu: Its Material Culture and Historical Background. Tel Aviv 28: 3–165. Fantalkin, A. and Finkelstein, I. 2006. The Sheshonq I Campaign and the 8th-Century-BCE Earthquake—More on the Archaeology and History of the South in the Iron I–IIA. Tel Aviv 33: 18–42. Faust, A. 1999a. Differences in Family Structure between Cities and Villages in Iron Age II. Tel Aviv 26: 233–252. ——. 1999b. From Hamlets to Monarchy: A View from the Countryside on the Formation of the Israelite Monarchy. Cathedra 94: 7–32 (Hebrew with English abstract). ——. 2000. Ethnic Complexity in Northern Israel during the Iron Age II. PEQ 132: 2–27. ——. 2002. Burnished Pottery and Gender Hierarchy in Iron Age Israelite Society. Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology 15: 53–73. ——. 2004. Mortuary Practices, Society and Ideology: The Lack of Iron Age I Burials in Highlands in Context. IEJ 54: 174–190. ——. 2005. The Settlement of Jerusalem’s Western Hill and the City’s Status in Iron Age II Revisited. ZDPV 121: 97–118. Finkelstein, I. 1993. The Sociopolitical Organization of the Central Hill Country in the Second Millennium BCE. In: Biran, A. and Aviram, J., eds. Biblical Archaeology Today, 1990. Pre-Congress Symposium: Population, Production and Power. Jerusalem: 119–131. ——. 1996. The Territorial-Political System of Canaan in the Late Bronze Age. Ugarit-Forschungen 28: 1–32. ——. 1999. State Formation in Israel and Judah. Near Eastern Archaeology 62: 35–52. ——. 2000. Omride Architecture. ZDPV 116: 114–138. ——. 2001. The Rise of Jerusalem and Judah: The Missing Link. Levant 33: 105– 115. ——. 2002a. Chronological Rejoinders. PEQ 134: 118–129. ——. 2002b. The Campaign of Shoshenq I to Palestine: A Guide to the 10th Century BCE Polity. ZDPV 118: 109–135. ——. 2002c. The Philistines in the Bible: A Late-Monarchic Perspective. JSOT 27: 131–167. ——. 2003. City-States to States: Polity Dynamics in the 10th–9th Centuries BCE. In: Dever, W. G. and Gitin, S., eds. Symbiosis, Symbolism and the Power of the Past. Winona Lake, IN: 75–83. Finkelstein, I. and Na aman, N., eds. 1994. From Nomadism to Monarchy: Archaeological and Historical Aspects of Early Israel. Jerusalem. Finkelstein, I. and Silberman, N. A. 2001. The Bible Unearthed: Archaeology’s New Vision of Ancient Israel and the Origin of Its Sacred Texts. New York. ——. 2006. David and Solomon, In Search of the Bible’s Sacred Kings and the Roots of the Western Tradition. New York. Finkelstein, I. and Singer-Avitz, L. 2001. Ashdod Revisited. Tel Aviv 28: 231–259. Fletcher, R. 1995. The Limits of Settlement Growth: A Theoretical Outline. Cambridge and New York. Freedy, K. S. and Redford, D. B. 1970. The Dates in Ezekiel in Relation to Biblical, Babylonian and Egyptian Sources. JAOS 90: 462–485. Frick, F. S. 1985. The Formation of the State in Ancient Israel: A Survey of Models and Theories. Sheffield. Friedman, R. E. and Overton, S. D. 2000. Death and Afterlife: The Biblical Silence. In: Avery-Peck, A. J. and Neusner, J., eds. Judaism in Late Antiquity IV (Handbook of Oriental Studies 49). Leiden: 35–59.

40

alexander fantalkin

Fritz, V. and Davies, P. R., eds. 1996. The Origins of the Ancient Israelite States ( JSOT, Supplement Series 228). Sheffield. Gilmour, G. 1995. Aegean Influence in Late Bronze Age Funerary Practices in the Southern Levant. In: Campbell, S. and Green, A. eds., The Archaeology of Death in the Ancient Near East. Oxford: 155–170. Gitin, S., Mazar, A., and Stern, E., eds. 1998. Mediterranean Peoples in Transition: Thirteenth to Early Tenth Century BCE. Papers of the First International Symposium Held by the Philip and Muriel Berman Center for Biblical Archaeology, Jerusalem, April 1995 in Honour of Professor T. Dothan. Jerusalem. Gmirkin, R. 2002. Tools Slippage and Tel Dan Inscription. Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament 16: 293–302. Goldstein, L. 1979. One-Dimensional Archaeology and Multi-Dimensional People: Spatial Organization and Mortuary Analysis. In: Chapman, R., Kinnes, I., and Randsborg, K., eds. The Archaeology of Death. Cambridge and New York: 53–70. Gonen, R. 1992. Burial Patterns and Cultural Diversity in Late Bronze Age Canaan (AASOR Dissertation Series 7). Winona Lake, IN. Gottwald, N. K. 2001. The Politics of Ancient Israel. Louisville, KY. Hachlili, R. 1994. Changes in Burial Practices in the Late Second Temple Period: The Evidence from Jericho. In: Singer, I., ed. Graves and Burial Practices in Israel in the Ancient Period. Jerusalem: 173–189 (Hebrew). ——. 2000. Qumran Cemetery: A Reconsideration. In: Schiffman, L. H., Tov, E., and Vanderkameds, J. C., eds. The Dead Sea Scrolls: Fifty Years after Their Discovery 1947–1997. Proceedings of the Jerusalem Congress, July 20–25, 1997. Jerusalem: 661–672. Hadley, J. M. 1987. The Khirbet el-Qom Inscription. VT 37: 50–62. Haken, H. 1985. Synergetics—An Interdisciplinary Approach to the Phenomena of Self-Organization. In: Portugali, J., ed. Links between the Natural and Social Sciences: A Special Theme Issue of Geoforum 16/2. Oxford: 205–211. Halpern, B. 1991. Jerusalem and the Lineages in the Seventh Century BCE: Kinship and the Rise of Individual Moral Liability. In: Halpern, B. and Hobson, D. W., eds. Law and Ideology in Monarchic Israel ( JSOT, Supplement Series 124). Sheffield: 11–107. ——. 1996. Sybil, or the Two Nations? Archaism, Kinship, Alienation, and the Elite Redefinition of Traditional Culture in Judah in the 8th–7th Centuries BCE. In: Cooper, J. S. and Schwartz, G. M., eds. The Study of the Ancient Near East in the Twenty-First Century. The William Foxwell Albright Centennial Conference. Winona Lake, IN: 291–338. ——. 2001. David’s Secret Demons. Messiah, Murderer, Traitor, King. Cambridge, MA. Hamilakis, Y. 2002. What Future for the ‘Minoan’ Past? Re-thinking Minoan Archaeology. In: Hamilakis, Y., ed. Labyrinth Revisited: Rethinking ‘Minoan’ Archaeology. Oxford: 2–28. Handy, L. K., ed. 1997. The Age of Solomon: Scholarship at the Turn of the Millennium. Leiden. Herzog, Z. 2002. The Fortress Mound at Tel Arad: An Interim Report. Tel Aviv 29: 3–109. Herzog, Z. and Singer-Avitz, L. 2004. Redefining the Centre: The Emergence of State in Judah. Tel Aviv 31: 209–244. Higginbotham, C. 2000. Egyptianization and Elite Emulation in Ramesside Palestine: Governance and Accommodation on the Imperial Periphery. Leiden. Hopkins, K. 1983. Death and Renewal. Cambridge and New York. Hopkins, D. 1996. Bare Bones: Putting Flesh on the Economics of Ancient Israel. In: Fritz, V. and Davies, P. R., eds. The Origins of the Ancient Israelite States ( JSOT, Supplement Series 228). Sheffield: 121–139. Jamieson-Drake, D. W. 1991. Scribes and Schools in Monarchic Judah: A Socio-Archaeological Approach ( JSOT, Supplement Series 109). Sheffield.

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

41

Joffe, A. H. 2002. The Rise of Secondary States in the Iron Age Levant. Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 45: 425–467. Kletter, R. 1999. Pots and Polities: Material Remains of Late Iron Age Judah in Relation to Its Political Borders. BASOR 314: 19–54. ——. 2002. People Without Burials? The Lack of Iron I Burials in the Central Highlands of Palestine. IEJ 52: 28–48. ——. 2004. Low Chronology and United Monarchy. A Methodological Review. ZDPV 120: 13–54. Kloner, A. 1980. Burial Practice in Jerusalem during the Second Temple Period (Ph.D. dissertation, Hebrew University). Jerusalem (Hebrew with English abstract). Knauf, E. A. 1991. King Solomon’s Copper Supply. In: Lipiński, E., ed. Phoenicia and the Bible. Leuven: 167–186. ——. 2000. Jerusalem in the Late Bronze and Early Iron Age: A Proposal. Tel Aviv 27: 75–90. Lehmann, G. 1996. Untersuchungen zur späten Eisenzeit in Syrien und Libanon: Stratigraphie und Keramikformen zwischen ca. 720 bis 300 v.Chr. (Altertumskunde des Vorderen Orients 5). Münster. ——. 2003. The United Monarchy in the Countryside: Jerusalem, Judah, and the Shephelah during the Tenth Century BCE. In: Vaughn, A. G. and Killebrew, A. E., eds. Jerusalem in the Bible and Archaeology: The First Temple Period. Atlanta: 117–162. Lemaire, A. 1976. Prières en temps de crise: les inscriptions de Khirbet Beit Lei. RB 83: 558–568. ——. 1994. “House of David” Restored in Moabite Inscription. Biblical Archaeology Review 20/3: 30–37. Levy, T. E., ed. 1995. Archaeology of Society in the Holy Land. New York. Lewis, T. J. 1989. Cults of the Dead in Ancient Israel and Ugarit (Harvard Semitic Monographs 39). Atlanta. Lipiński, E., ed. 1991. Phoenicia and the Bible. Leuven. Lipschits, O. 2003. Demographic Changes in Judah between the Seventh and the Fifth Centuries BCE. In: Lipschits, O. and Blenkinsopp, J., eds. Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period. Winona Lake, IN: 323–376. Loffreda, S. 1968. Typological Sequence of Iron Age Rock-Cut Tombs in Palestine. Liber Annuus 18: 244–287. Maeir, A. M. 2004. The Historical Background and Dating of Amos IV 2: An Archaeological Perspective from Tell es-Safi/Gath. VT 54: 319–334. Master, D. M. 2001. State Formation Theory and the Kingdom of Ancient Israel. JNES 60: 117–131. Mathys, F. 1996. Erwägungen zu einer neu edierten Inschrift, angeblich aus Hirbet el-Qōm. Biblische Notizen 84: 51–53. Mazar, A. 2005. The Debate over the Chronology of the Iron Age in the Southern Levant: Its History, the Current Situation, and a Suggested Resolution. In: Levy, T. E. and Higham, T., eds. The Bible and Radiocarbon Dating: Archaeology, Text and Science. London: 15–30. Mazar, E. 2000. Phoenician Family Tombs at Achziv: A Chronological Typology (1000–400 BCE). In: Prats, A. G., ed. Fenicios y territorio. Actas del II Seminario Internacional sobre Temas Fenicios. Guardamar del Segura, 9–11 de abril de 1999. Alicante: 189–225. McCown, C. C. 1947. Tell en-Nasbeh. Vol. I: Archaeological and Historical Results. Berkeley. McGlade, J. and van der Leeuw, S. E. 1997. Introduction: Archaeology and Non-Linear Dynamics—New Approaches to Long-Term Change. In: van der Leeuw, S. E. and McGlade, J., eds. Time, Process and Structured Transformation in Archaeology. London and New York: 1–31. McHugh, F. 1995. Theoretical and Quantitative Approaches to the Study of Mortuary Practices (BAR International Series 785). Oxford. Miller, J. M. and Hayes, J. H. 1986. A History of Ancient Israel and Judah. Philadelphia.

42

alexander fantalkin

Moreland, J. 2001. The Carolingian Empire: Rome Reborn? In: Alcock, S. E., D’altroy, T. N., Morrison, K. D., and Sinopoli, C. M., eds. Empires: Perspectives from Archaeology and History. Cambridge and New York: 392–418. Morgan, C. and Coulton, J. J. 1997. The Polis as a Physical Entity. In: Hansen, M. H., ed. The Polis as an Urban Centre and as a Political Community (Acts of the Copenhagen Polis Centre 4). Copenhagen: 87–144. Morris, I. 1987. Burial and Ancient Society: The Rise of the Greek City-State. Cambridge and New York. ——. 1991. The Archaeology of Ancestors: The Saxe/Goldstein Hypothesis Revisited. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 1: 147–169. ——. 1992. Death-Ritual and Social Structure in Classical Antiquity. Cambridge and New York. Na aman, N. 1991. The Kingdom of Judah under Josiah. Tel Aviv 18: 1–69. ——. 1992. Canaanite Jerusalem and Its Central Hill Neighbours in the Second Millennium BCE. Ugarit-Forschungen 24: 275–291. ——. 1996a. The Contribution of the Amarna Letters to the Debate on Jerusalem’s Political Position in the Tenth Century BCE. BASOR 304: 17–27. ——. 1996b. Sources and Composition in the History of David. In: Fritz, V. and Davies, P. R., eds. The Origins of the Ancient Israelite States ( JSOT, Supplement Series 228). Sheffield: 170–186. ——. 1997. Historical and Literary Notes on the Excavations of Tel Jezreel. Tel Aviv 24: 122–128. ——. 2002. The Past that Shapes the Present. The Creation of Biblical Historiography in the Late First Temple Period and after the Downfall. Jerusalem (Hebrew). ——. 2007. When and How Did Jerusalem Become a Great City? The Rise of Jerusalem as Judah’s Premier City in the Eighth-Seventh Centuries BCE. BASOR 347:21–56. Naveh, J. 1963. Old Hebrew Inscriptions in a Burial Cave. IEJ 13: 74–92. Nicolis, G. and Prigogine, I. 1977. Self-Organization in Non-Equilibrium Systems: From Dissipative Structures to Order through Fluctuations. New York. Niemann, H. M. 1993. Herrschaft, Königtum und Staat: Skizzen zur soziokulturellen Entwicklung im monarchischen Israel. Tübingen. Ofer, A. 1994. ‘All the Hill Country of Judah’: From a Settlement Fringe to a Prosperous Monarchy. In: Finkelstein, I. and Na aman, N., eds. From Nomadism to Monarchy: Archaeological and Historical Aspects of Early Israel. Jerusalem: 92–121. ——. 2001. The Monarchic Period in the Judaean Highland: A Spatial Overview. In: Mazar, A., ed. Studies in the Archaeology of the Iron Age in Israel and Jordan. Sheffield: 14–37. Osborne, J. 2007. The Bench Tomb in Iron Age Judah: Secondary Mortuary Practice and Social Values. The ASOR Annual Meeting, San-Diego, CA. November 14–17, 2007. Parker, S. B. 2003. Graves, Caves, and Refugees: An Essay in Microhistory. JSOT 27: 259–288. Pearson, M. P. 1999. The Archaeology of Death and Burial (Texas A & M University Anthropology Series 3). Texas. Peleg, Y. 2002. Gender and Ossuaries: Ideology and Meaning. BASOR 325: 65–73. Portugali, J. 1994. Theoretical Speculations on the Transition from Nomadism to Monarchy. In: Finkelstein, I. and Na aman, N., eds. From Nomadism to Monarchy: Archaeological and Historical Aspects of Early Israel. Jerusalem: 92–121. Prigogine, I. and Stengers, I. 1984. Order out of Chaos. Toronto and New York. Puech, É. 1998. The Necropolises of Khirbet Qumrân and Ain el-Ghuweir and the Essene Belief in Afterlife. BASOR 312: 21–36. Regev, E. 2000. The Individualistic Meaning of Jewish Ossuaries: A Socio-Anthropological Perspective on Burial Practice. PEQ 133: 39–49.

appearance of rock-cut bench tombs in iron age judah

43

Reich, R., Shukron, E. and Lernau, O. 2007. New Discoveries at the City of David, Jerusalem. Qadmoniot 133:32–40 (Hebrew). Ribar, J. W. 1973. Death Cult Practices in Ancient Palestine (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Michigan). Michigan. Routledge, B. 2004. Moab in the Iron Age: Hegemony, Polity, Archaeology. Philadelphia. Saxe, A. A. 1970. Social Dimensions of Mortuary Practices (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Michigan). Michigan. Schloen, J. D. 2001. The House of the Father as Fact and Symbol: Patrimonialism in Ugarit and the Ancient Near East (Studies in the Archaeology and History of the Levant 2). Winona Lake, IN. Schmidt, E. 2000. Memory as Immortality: Countering the Dreaded “Death after Death” in Ancient Israelite Society. In: Avery-Peck, A. J. and Neusner, J., eds. Judaism in Late Antiquity IV (Handbook of Oriental Studies 49). Leiden: 87–100. Schniedewind, W. M. 1998. The Geopolitical History of Philistine Gath. BASOR 309: 69–77. Schultz, B. 2006. The Qumran Cemetery: 150 Years of Research. Dead Sea Discoveries 13: 194–228. Seger, J. D. 1993. Halif, Tel. NEAEHL 2. Jerusalem: 553–559. Shai, I. and Maeir, M. 2003. Pre-LMLK Jars: A New Class of Iron Age IIA Storage Jars. Tel Aviv 30: 108–123. Simkins, R.A. 2004. Family in the Political Economy of Monarchic Judah. The Bible and Critical Theory 1 (http://publications.epress.monash.edu/doi/pdf/10.2104/ bc040006). Singer-Avitz, L. 2002. Arad: The Iron Age Pottery Assemblages. Tel Aviv 29: 110– 214. Spencer, C. S. 1990. On the Tempo and Mode of State Formation: Neoevolutionism Reconsidered. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 9: 1–30. ——. 1998. A Mathematical Model of Primary State Formation. Cultural Dynamics 10/1: 5–20. Spronk, K. 1986. Beatific Afterlife in Ancient Israel and in the Ancient Near East (Alter Orient und Altes Testament 219). Kevelaer. Stager, L. E. 1985. The Archaeology of the Family in Ancient Israel. BASOR 260: 1–35. Stager, L. E. 1998. Forging an Identity: The Emergence of Ancient Israel. In: Coogan, M. D., ed. The Oxford History of the Biblical World. New York: 123–175. Steiner, M. L. 1998. David’s Jerusalem: Fiction or Reality. It’s Not There, Archaeology Proves a Negative. Biblical Archaeology Review 24/4: 26–33, 62–63. ——. 2001. Excavations by Kathleen M. Kenyon in Jerusalem 1961–1967. Vol. 3: The Settlement in the Bronze and Iron Ages (Copenhagen International Series 9). Toronto. ——. 2003. The Evidence from Kenyon’s Excavations in Jerusalem: A Response Essay. In: Vaughn, A. G. and Killebrew, A. E., eds. Jerusalem in the Bible and Archaeology: The First Temple Period. Atlanta: 347–364. Stiebing, W. H. Jr. 1970. Another Look at the Origin of the Philistine Tombs at Tell el-Far a (S). AJA 74: 139–144. Suriano, M. 2007. The Marginality of the Dead: Funerary-Rites and the Concept of the Afterlife in an Ancient Israel. ASOR Annual Meeting, San-Diego, CA. November 14–17, 2007. Tainter, J. R. 1978. Mortuary Practices and the Study of Prehistoric Social Systems. Advances in Archaeological Method and Theory 1: 105–141. Thompson, T. L. 1992. Early History of the Israelite People: From the Written and Archaeological Sources. Leiden. Tubul, M. 2007. Nouns with Double Plural Forms in Biblical Hebrew. Journal of Semitic Studies 52: 189–210.

44

alexander fantalkin

Tufnell, O. 1953. Lachish III (Tell ed-Duweir): The Iron Age (Wellcome-Marston Archaeological Research Expedition to the Near East 3). London. Ussishkin, D. 1974. Tombs from the Israelite Period at Tel Eton. Tel Aviv 1: 109– 127. Ussishkin, D. 1993. The Village of Silwan: The Necropolis from the Period of the Judean Kingdom. Jerusalem. ——. 1996. Excavations and Restoration Work at Tel Lachish 1985–1994: Third Preliminary Report. Tel Aviv 23: 3–60. ——. 1997. Lachish. In: Meyers, E. M., ed. The Oxford Encyclopedia of Archaeology in the Near East. Vol. 3. New York: 317–323. ——. 2003a. Solomon’s Jerusalem: The Text and the Facts on the Ground. In: Vaughn, A. G. and Killebrew, A. E., eds. Jerusalem in the Bible and Archaeology: The First Temple Period. Atlanta: 103–116. ——. 2003b. The Level V Sanctuary and High Place at Lachish: A Stratigraphic Analysis. In: Den Hertog, C. G., Hübner, U., and Münger, S., eds. Saxa Loquentur. Studien zur Archäologie Palästinas/Israels. Festschrift für Volkmar Fritz zum 65. Geburstag (Alter Orient und Altes Testament 302). Münster: 205–211. ——. 2004. A Synopsis of the Stratigraphical, Chronological and Historical Issues. In: Ussishkin, D., ed. The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973–1994) (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 22). Tel Aviv: 50–122. Vaughn, A. G. and Killebrew, A. E., eds. 2003. Jerusalem in the Bible and Archaeology: The First Temple Period. Atlanta. Vitto, F. 2001. An Iron Age Burial Cave in Nazareth. Atiqot 42: 159–169. Waldbaum, J. 1966. Philistine Tombs at Tell Far a (S) and Their Aegean Prototypes. AJA 70: 331–340. Weidlich, W. 1988. Stability and Cyclicity in Social Systems. Behavioral Science 33: 241–256. Wenning, R. 2005. “Medien” in der Bestattungskultur im eisenzeitlichen Juda? In: Frevel, C., ed. Medien im antiken Palästina: Materielle Kommunikation und Medialität als Thema der Palästinaarchäologie. Tübingen: 109–150. Wright, H. T. 1977. Recent Research on the Origin of the State. Annual Review of Anthropology 6: 379–397. Yezerski, I. 1995. Burial Caves in the Land of Judah in the Iron Age: Archaeological and Architectural Aspects (M.A. thesis, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv (Hebrew with English abstract). ——. 1999. Burial-Cave Distribution and the Borders of the Kingdom of Judah toward the End of the Iron Age. Tel Aviv 26: 253–270. Yezerski, I. and Lender, Y. 2002. An Iron Age II Burial Cave at Lower Horbat Anim. Atiqot 43: 57*–73* (Hebrew with English abstract). Zadok, R. 1996. Notes on Syro-Palestinian History, Toponymy and Anthroponymy. Ugarit-Forschungen 28: 721–749. Zevit, Z. 1984. The Khirbet el-Qôm Inscription Mentioning a Goddess. BASOR 255: 39–47. Zimhoni, O. 1997. Studies in the Iron Age Pottery of Israel: Typological, Archaeological and Chronological Aspects (Publications of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 2). Tel Aviv. Zissu, B. and Moyal, H. 1998. Jerusalem, Beit Safafa (West). ESI 18: 94–95.

TRADEMARKS OF THE OMRIDE BUILDERS? Norma Franklin Two 9th-century sites hold the key to the chronological conundrum of the period: Samaria, the royal capital, and Megiddo, its sentinel emporium. Together they epitomize the power of the Northern Kingdom of Israel during the 9th century BCE. Samaria Samaria, a rocky hill-top site, first developed in the Early Iron Age as a lucrative oil and wine production center (Stager 1990: 93–107; Franklin 2004a: 189–202). Its earliest monumental buildings were erected by Omri in ca. 880 BCE, when he chose this economic hub as the capital of the Northern Kingdom of Israel (1 Kings 16: 23–24). The Harvard Expedition (1908–1910) first excavated the site; G. Schumacher, who had just terminated his excavation at Megiddo, initially served as the temporary director until G. Reisner assumed the position in 1909. C. Fisher, who later became the first director of the Oriental Institute’s expedition to Megiddo, was appointed excavation architect. The Harvard Expedition was intent on revealing the city founded by Omri and so they concentrated their excavation on the summit. There they revealed a monumental building, which they immediately identified as the 9th-century “Palace of Omri” on the basis of the passage in 1 Kings 16: 23–24 (Reisner et al. 1924: 35, 60–61). The second expedition to Samaria, the Joint Expedition (1931–1935), was directed by J. W. Crowfoot, but it was K. Kenyon who continued excavations on the summit (Crowfoot et al. 1942). The Joint Expedition accepted the overall stratigraphic interpretation offered by the Harvard Expedition agreeing that there was no monumental architecture prior to the “Palace of Omri,” which they renamed Building Period I (ibid.: 7).

46

norma franklin

In fact, during Building Period I, the natural rocky summit of Samaria delimited a royal compound—the “Palace of Omri”—isolated from its surroundings, on top of a 4-m-high artificial rock-cut scarp. To the west of the royal compound there were other Building Period I ancillary buildings, while immediately below the Omride palace two subterranean tombs where hewn into the bedrock. These tombs have recently been recognized as belonging to the Omride kings (Franklin 2003: 1–11). These elements, when viewed together, testify to Building Period I having been of a longer duration than previously thought, spanning the Omride dynasty in its entirety and at least a part of the Jehu dynasty (Franklin 2004a: 189–202). That is, the following period, Building Period II, was not the continuation, embellishment, and execution of an unfinished Building Period I blueprint, rather it signified a new era, a new regime during which time the summit of Samaria became a strictly administrative center (see Addendum). Megiddo Megiddo is a multilayered tell occupied continuously from the 3rd millennium BCE until the Persian period. G. Schumacher was the first to excavate the site (1903–1905) and expose the Iron Age levels (Schumacher 1908). The second expedition was instigated by the Oriental Institute of Chicago (1925–1939), directed initially by C. Fisher (who had served as the architect for the Harvard Expedition to Samaria) until he was forced to retire due to ill health, and succeeded by P. L. O. Guy (1927–1935). It was during Guy’s tenure that a monumental building, Palace 1723, was revealed in the south of the tell (Guy 1931; Lamon and Shipton 1939). The Chicago Expedition originally attributed Palace 1723 to the early part of the 10th century BCE but it was later down dated slightly by Yadin who associated it with the building activities of Solomon (Yadin 1960: 62–68). In addition, Stratum IVB (to which the palace was attributed) had been amalgamated by Albright with Stratum VA to form the composite Stratum VA–IVB (Albright 1943: 2–3). Following a re-analysis of the data it has become apparent that there was no premise for establishing Stratum IVB as a separate stratum, irrespective of whether it is paired with Stratum VA or not. Accordingly, the architecture from Stratum IVB has now been reassigned to either one of the phases of Stratum V or to Stratum IV (IVA). Palace

trademarks of the omride builders?

47

1723 is now recognized as belonging to one of the earliest phases of Stratum V (Franklin 2006). Eventually, Stratum V, including Palace 1723, was partially dismantled and buried by the builders of Stratum IV, and a new city arose with a very different layout, topography, and function. The Stratum IV city became a vast commercial center with stables, storehouses, and courtyards, all contained within a city wall and built according to a specific blueprint (see Addendum; Franklin 2006). The Omride Palace at Samaria and Palace 1723 at Megiddo The Masons’ Marks (Fig. 1) At Samaria, twenty ashlars inscribed with distinctive masons’ marks have been excavated (Reisner et al. 1924: 119–120, Fig. 47, Pls. 90e, 90f; Crowfoot et al. 1942: 34–35). Only two of the inscribed ashlars were discovered in situ located in the foundation course of the Building Period I palace. The other inscribed ashlars were found in secondary use in Building Period II or later architecture (Shiloh 1979; Franklin 2004a: 201). At Megiddo some 52 ashlars inscribed with masons’ marks have been recorded (Schumacher 1908: Tafel XXXe; Lamon and Shipton 1939: 13, Figs. 16: 20, 26: 25, 32; Yadin 1970: 92, Fig. 17; Yadin 1972: 164; Shiloh 1979; Franklin 2001: 108). Only 19 of the inscribed ashlars were discovered in situ, all of which were located in the foundations of Palace 1723 (including Porch 1728). The remaining inscribed ashlars were found in secondary use in buildings from Strata IV, III, or II. It is significant that Samaria and Megiddo are the only sites with these particular types of masons’ marks (contra Shiloh 1979). That is, 44 different masons’ marks out of a total of the 73 excavated examples, or 8 out of the 17 basic known characters have been recorded at both sites (Franklin 2001: 110–111, Fig. 1). The marks are always inscribed on large, roughly hewn ashlars devoid of marginal drafting.1 These 1 Only one ashlar inscribed with a masons’ mark has marginal drafting. It is an ashlar used as a “strengthening corner” on the western foundation pier of Gate 1576. The ashlar is in secondary use and acquired its marginal drafting as an aid in aligning the structure correctly.

48

norma franklin

plain, roughly hewn ashlars (with no interspersed fieldstones) were the standard type of ashlar used in the foundation courses of the monumental buildings there. In fact these “plain” ashlars are the typical building blocks used by the Building Period I (Samaria) and the Stratum V (Megiddo) builders. They differ from the Building Period II (Samaria) and Stratum IV (Megiddo) ashlars, which were often embellished with drafted margins (Franklin 2004a; 2006). In short, an analysis of the findspots of the inscribed ashlars when viewed together with the stratigraphic information at both sites confirms that these ashlars, inscribed with the distinctive masons’ marks, originate in the Stratum V palace (1723) at Megiddo and the Building Period I palace at Samaria. The Derivation of the Masons’ Marks The Harvard Expedition noted that some of the marks resembled ancient Hebrew (Sukenik 1957). It would be logical to suppose that the masons’ marks derived from a Phoenician tradition, however there are too many dissimilarities for them to be directly related to the Phoenician alphabet, and no masons’ marks are known from that region. Tantalizingly, it has been noted that the closest match for the masons’ marks is with the Carian alphabet (Franklin 2001: 107–116). Eighteen of the twenty masons’ marks appear in the established Carian alphabet and two match Carian quarry marks from Egypt (Gosline 1992). However, if the masons’ marks are related to the Carian alphabet then they predate by some two hundred years the first known use of the Carian alphabet. Until now the earliest known use of the Carian alphabet was in Egypt, rather than in Caria, where it predates the examples in Asia Minor by two or three centuries (Ray 1988: 150). Some three hundred inscriptions, written between the 7th and the 4th centuries BCE, have been recorded in the area of ancient Caria (Shevoroshkin 1994: 131). Apparently, the Carians borrowed their alphabet (or more precisely: local alphabets) directly from some archaic Semitic writing system, for the Carian alphabet has elements of both North and South Semitic scripts (Shevoroshkin 1991–1992: 117–134). This alphabet is composed of some 48 letters, although it is thought that only 25 of them were actually used at any one time or in any one place (Ray 1987: 99; 1990: 56). In Caria there were at least five regional Carian alphabets (Ray 1982a: 78). Additionally, in Egypt the Carian alphabet is known to have varied greatly over time (Ray 1982b: 181). Therefore, had the masons’

trademarks of the omride builders?

49

marks been derived from an early form of the Carian alphabet they would have also exhibited chronological or regional variation. However, the use of “Carian-related alphabetic marks” as masons’ marks may suggest an ongoing vocational link rather than an ethnic link, for some of the masons’ marks reappear over a long period of time and are found in southwest Anatolian, Egyptian, and Persian contexts (Franklin 2001: 107–116). The function of these unique marks is unknown; they may have served an atropaic purpose or echoed the practices and origin of foreign construction workers. Furthermore, their apparent concurrent use, at both Samaria and Megiddo, implies a brief time period. The Use of the Short Cubit of 0.45 m The foundations of both the Omride palace at Samaria and Palace 1723 at Megiddo were laid out using the short cubit of 0.45 m as the unit of measurement.2 When dealing with the layout of a building it is the exterior measurements that are the crucial ones (Miroschedji 2001: 465–491). For example, the northern foundation wall of Palace 1723 has “setting-out” marks incised into the outermost ashlars in the foundation course (Lamon and Shipton 1939: 20, Fig. 29), and the use of the short cubit of 0.45 m is most noticeable when the ground plan of Palace 1723 is studied, for the foundations of the palace were preserved in their entirety and the complete plan of the building is known. Megiddo—Palace 1723 (Fig. 2) • The southern wall of the palace is 48-short-cubits long (ca. 21.25 m; 21.6 m = 48 cubits = 4 rods). • The western wall of the palace is also 48-short-cubits long, which can be further broken down into six lengths of 8 short cubits or three lengths of 16 short cubits. • The northern wall of the palace is 50-short-cubits long (ca. 22.975 m; 22.50 m = 50 cubits) (Lamon and Shipton 1939: 18: note 10).

2 There is a greater discrepancy regarding the application of the short-cubit to the palace at Megiddo in contrast to Samaria. This may be due to the settlement of Palace 1723, which was built on accumulated Tel debris, as opposed to the Omride Palace which was built on bedrock. In any event the short-cubit is the measurement that produces the least discrepancy when applied to these buildings.

50

norma franklin • The northern wall of the platform of the palace (Platform 1728) is 16-short-cubits long (ca. 7.7 m; 7.2 m = 16 cubits) (ibid.: 18). • The eastern wall of the palace is formed by Platform 1728. It extends the line of the northern wall by a length of 16 short cubits. Then the east wall runs south for a length of 8 short cubits. The platform is then set back by 6 short cubits and the east wall continues south for 16 short cubits. The platform is then once again set back, now by 10 short cubits, and the east wall of the platform is finally exposed for 16 short cubits before being recessed by 2 short cubits for a length of 8 short cubits.

Samaria—The Omride Palace (Fig. 3) The use of the short cubit, particularly multiples of six, eight, and ten short cubits, is also evident in the ground plan of the palace at Samaria. Although most of the ashlar masonry did not survive, the fact that the palace was built on top of an artificially prepared 4-m-high rock scarp enables the extent of the palace to be defined (Franklin 2004a): • The long west wall of the palace scarp is 60-short-cubits long (ca. 27 m; 27 m = 60 cubits = 1/2 rope). • The scarp projects out from the main building line by 12 short cubits (ca. 5.5 m; 5.4 m = 12 cubits = 1 rod) in the north, and by 16 short cubits (ca. 7.5 m; 7.2 m = 16 cubits) in the south. • The southern section of the west face extends as far as the southern scarp a distance of 16 short cubits (ca. 7.5 m; 7.2 m = 16 cubits). • The building has an enclosed rectangular courtyard, 24 short cubits (ca. 11 m; 10.8 m = 24 cubits = 2 rods) by 48 short cubits (ca. 21.25 m; 21.6 m = 48 cubits = 4 rods). The northern section of the west face (still partially preserved but hidden below later monumental architecture) appears to have reached the northern scarp, situated 100 short cubits to the north. The palaces in Samaria and in Megiddo appear to be unique regarding the use of the short cubit of 0.45 m (Franklin 2004b: 83–92). The short cubit was also known as the Egyptian short cubit, as it consisted of six palms and needed to be differentiated from the more common royal cubit of seven palms (Ben-David 1987: 27–28). The Egyptian short cubit eventually went out of use following the Third Intermediate Period and was superseded by the royal cubit (Iversen 1975: 16; Shaw

trademarks of the omride builders?

51

and Nicholson 1995: 174). It should be noted that the second dynasty belonging to that period is the 22nd “Libyan” Dynasty (Kitchen 1986: 334–337), which partially coincides with the Israelite Omride dynasty that is credited with inaugurating Building Period I at Samaria. Addendum Samaria Building Period II and Megiddo Stratum IV The ground plan of the monumental architectural elements of Building Period II (Samaria) and Stratum IV (Megiddo) were constructed using the popular Assyrian cubit of 0.495 m. This cubit was first attested on a statue of Gudea, king of Lagash, at ca. 2170 BCE (Dilke 1987: 25), and it continued in use into the Assyrian period. The Assyrian cubit is close to the present-day metric standard and thus tends to conform to modern plans, making it the most easily recognized of all the ancient measures. The two Megiddo Stratum IV courtyards, Courtyard 977 (the Southern Stable courtyard) and Courtyard 1693, both measure 120 by 120 Assyrian cubits. This square unit of measurement is an Assyrian agricultural land measurement known as an iku. In addition, all the Megiddo Stratum IV monumental architecture: City Gate 2156, City Wall 325, and the stable units, were built using lengths of 8, 10, 12, 36, 40, 60, and 120 Assyrian cubits. At Samaria Building Period II while there were no stable complexes or city gates, there was a casemate wall system and the “Ostraca House,” both built using the Assyrian cubit of 0.495 m, with multiples of 2, 4, 25, 30, and 50 (Franklin 2004b: 83–92). In addition, the ashlar masonry used in these strata at both sites, most of which is in secondary use, was aligned with the aid of a drafted margin—a three-sided frame drafted in situ. The evidence for this final marginal drafting was a layer of limestone chips deposited at the base of these walls (Loud 1948: 47; Crowfoot et al. 1942: 99.). Moreover, the alignment of these ashlars was facilitated by the use of red guide lines. These guide lines were often preserved on the ashlar foundation courses and observed by the excavation teams at both sites (Reisner et al. 1924: 103–107, 111, Figs. 26, 30, 37; Guy 1931: 37; Crowfoot et al. 1942: 12, 98; Loud 1948: 48). Furthermore, the load-bearing walls and corners were built of integrated ashlars and fieldstones, often constructed in the

52

norma franklin

Telalio pattern for added strength (Franklin 2006). All these techniques: the Assyrian cubit, the marginally drafted ashlars, the red guide lines, and the Telalio wall construction are peculiar to Building Period II at Samaria and Stratum IV at Megiddo, and noticeably different from the techniques used in the previous strata at both sites. Conclusion The use of the Egyptian short cubit as the unit of measurement is not unique, but its use on two palatial buildings that also have a unique set of masons’ marks must alert us to the fact that we have tangible evidence for the existence of a group of skilled foreign craftsmen working in the Northern Kingdom of Israel in the 9th century BCE. This hypothesis is strengthened when the monumental buildings in the subsequent strata at both sites are seen to exhibit very different structural techniques and are built using a different unit of measurement. The question must be raised: Is the simultaneous use of masons’ marks and the Egyptian short cubit the trademark of a foreign workforce? The Mesha Stele records that Israelite prisoners of war were employed as construction workers in Moab (Ahlström 1982: 15; Naxaman 1997: 123). The Assyrians routinely subjugated to servitude their prisoners of war (Zaccagnini 1983: 260), and the Omride dynasty is also recorded as having used prisoners of war to further their building projects (Naxaman 1997: 123). Is it possible that this unique set of trademarks was left by prisoners of war who were used as a labor force by the Omride dynasty, or were the builders a group of skilled craftsmen commissioned by the Omride dynasty to build these two palatial buildings?

trademarks of the omride builders?

53

References Ahlström, G. W. 1982. Royal Administration and National Religion in Ancient Palestine. Leiden. Albright, W. F. 1943. The Excavation of Tell Beit Mirsim. Vol. 3: The Iron Age (AASOR 21–22: 2–3). New Haven. Ben-David, A. 1987. The Hebrew-Phoenician Cubit. PEQ 110: 27–28. Crowfoot, J. W., Kenyon, K. M., and Sukenik, E. L. 1942. The Buildings at Samaria (Samaria-Sebaste No. 1). London. de Miroschedji, P. 2001. Notes on Early Bronze Age Metrology and the Birth of Architecture in Ancient Palestine. In: Wolff, S. R., ed. Studies in the Archaeology of Israel and Neighboring Lands in Memory of Douglas L. Esse (SAOC 59, ASOR Books No. 5). Chicago: 465–491. Dilke, O. A. W. 1987. Mathematics and Measurement. Berkeley. Franklin, N. 2001. Masons’ Marks from the 9th Century BCE Northern Kingdom of Israel: Evidence of the Nascent Carian Alphabet? Kadmos 40: 107–116. ——. 2003. The Tombs of the Kings of Israel: Two Recently Identified 9th Century Tombs from Omride Samaria. ZDPV 119/1: 1–11. ——. 2004a. Samaria: From the Bedrock to the Omride Palace. Levant 36: 189–202. ——. 2004b. Metrological Investigations at 9th and 8th c. Samaria and Megiddo, Israel. Mediterranean Archaeology and Archaeometry 4/2: 83–92. ——. 2006. Revealing Stratum V at Megiddo. BASOR 342: 95–111. Gosline, S. L. 1992. Carian Quarry Markings on Elephantine Island. Kadmos 31: 43–50. Guy, P. L. O. 1931. New Light from Armageddon: Second Provisional Report (1927–1929) on the Excavations at Megiddo in Palestine (The Oriental Institute Communications 9). Chicago. Iversen, E. 1975. Canon and Proportions in Egyptian Art (2nd edition). Warminster. Kitchen, K. A. 1986. The Third Intermediate Period in Egypt (110–650 BC) (2nd edition). Warminster. Lamon, R. and Shipton, G. M. 1939. Megiddo I: Seasons of 1925–34, Strata I–V (Oriental Institute Publications 42). Chicago. Loud, G. 1948. Megiddo II: Seasons of 1935–39 (Oriental Institute Publications 62). Chicago. Naxaman, N. 1997. Historical and Literary Notes on the Excavation of Tel Jezreel. Tel Aviv 24: 122–128. Ray, J. D. 1982a. The Carian Script. Proceedings of the Cambridge Philological Society 208/28: 77–89. ——. 1982b. The Carian Inscriptions from Egypt. Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 68: 181–198. ——. 1987. The Egyptian Approach to Carian. Kadmos 26: 98–103. ——. 1988. Ussollos in Caria. Kadmos 27: 150–154. ——. 1990. An Outline of Carian Grammar. Kadmos 29: 54–58. Reisner, G. A., Fisher, C. S., and Lyon, D. G. 1924. Harvard Excavations at Samaria 1908–1910. Vols. 1–2 (Harvard Semitic Series). Cambridge, MA. Schumacher, G. 1908. Tell el-Mutesellim, Band I: Bericht über die 1903 bis 1905 mit Unterstützung Sr. Majestät des Deutschen Kaisers und der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft vom Deutschen verein zur Erforschung Palästinas versanstalteten Ausgrabungen. Leipzig. Shaw, I. and Nicholson, P. 1995. British Museum Dictionary of Ancient Egypt. London. Shevoroshkin, V. V. 1991/92. On Carian Language and Writing. In: Pearson, R., ed. Perspectives on Indo-European Language, Culture and Religion: Studies in Honor of Edgar C. Polomé. Vol. 1 ( Journal of Indo-European Studies Monograph No. 7). McLean, VA: 117–135.

54

norma franklin

——. 1994. Carian—Three Decades Later. In: Giannnotta, M. E., Gusmani, R., et al., eds., La decifrazione del Cario (Monografie Scientifiche. Serie Scienze umane e sociali). Roma: 131–166. Shiloh, Y. 1979. The Proto-Aeolic Capital and Israelite Ashlar Masonry (Qedem 11). Jerusalem. Stager, L. 1990. Shemer’s Estate. BASOR 277–278: 93–107. Sukenik, E. L. 1957. In: Crowfoot, J. W., Crowfoot, G. M., and Kenyon, K. M. The Objects from Samaria (Samaria-Sebaste No. 3). London: 34. Yadin, Y. 1960. New Light on Solomon’s Megiddo. BA 23: 62–68. ——. 1970. Megiddo and the Kings of Israel. BA 33: 66–96. ——. 1972. Hazor: The Head of All Those Kingdoms (The Schweich Lectures of the British Academy, 1970). London. Zaccagnini, C. 1983. Patterns of Mobility among Ancient Near Eastern Craftsmen. JNES 42: 245–264.

CONTINUITY AND CHANGE IN THE LATE BRONZE TO IRON AGE TRANSITION IN ISRAEL’S COASTAL PLAIN: A LONG TERM PERSPECTIVE Yuval Gadot Dedicated to the scholar who turned “longue durée” into a Hebrew term.

Introduction More then eighty years of intense research have passed since the founders of modern Near Eastern archaeology gathered in Jerusalem to crystallize the periodization of ancient Israel (Palestine Exploration Fund 1923). The accumulated mass of unsynthesized archaeological evidence convinced scholars like Albright that it was time to offer a broad and unified periodization for the country such that would avoid “confusion that could lead only to chaos unless the use of centuries was substituted for that period [Iron Age, Y.G.]” (Albright 1949: 112). The scores of papers discussing the transition between the Late Bronze and the Iron Ages that have been published in the elapsed time (e.g., Albright 1931: 120–121; 1939: 11–23; Wright 1961: 114; Oren 1985: 37–56; Kempinski 1985: 399–407; Ussishkin 1985: 213–230; Dever 1992: 99–110; 1993a: 706–724; 1993b: 25–35; Finkelstein 1995: 213–239; 2003: 189–195) demonstrate how far we are from a broadly accepted scheme so optimistically envisioned by Albright and his colleagues. There is still dispute over the date for the end of one period and the beginning of the next,1 and there is no agreement on the

1 See, for example, Ussishkin (1985) who claims that the end of the Late Bronze Age should be dated to the collapse of the Egyptian control over the land at 1150 BCE, as opposed to Mazar (1990: 290) who ends the Late Bronze Age in the more traditional date of 1200 BCE, although he acknowledges the continuation of the Egyptian hegemony over the land for another fifty years.

56

yuval gadot

differences in material culture (Kempinski 1985; Wood 1985: 553), let alone an accepted reconstruction of the process or the chain of events leading to the transition between the two periods.2 Dever has summarized the state of affairs in two public lectures. In the first he claimed that “these changes were so varied from site to site that a regional approach is necessary; no single typology or paradigm will comprehend the overall shift from Bronze to Iron Age” (Dever 1992: 107–108). In the second lecture he added a proposal for future research: We can make a start by comparing presumably early Israelite sites with early Iron I sites that are demonstrably Philistine, as well as those that appear to represent continuing Canaanite influence and culture. (Dever 1993a: 718)

Israel’s central Coastal Plain (The Yarkon-Ayalon basin) is a case in point: It is a confined geographical region in which Canaanite (Aphek, Tel Gerisa), Israelite ({Izbet Âartah), Egyptian and Egyptianized ( Jaffa, Aphek, Tel Gerisa), and Philistine (Aphek, Tel Gerisa, Tell Qasile) settlements existed side by side simultaneously. This cultural and ethnical meeting point in a geographically confined unit can be studied in two ways: synchronically, to explore the way different cultural groups interacted and influenced each other; and diachronically, to follow the changes that occurred in the region between the 13th and the 10th centuries BCE. In this article I aim to pursue the latter. Against an environmental background I will present seemingly contradicting trends of continuity and change in the material culture and the economical, social, and political structures existing in the region. The accepted view is that in the period under discussion the region passed from Canaanite to Egyptian, and then to Philistine control. Against this historical-political reconstruction, the material culture typifying the sites in the region shows many lines of continuity. An explanation for these contradicting trends will be sought, and finally an evaluation offered of its implications for the way this transition should be envisioned.

2 The state of art in the debate over the transition between the Late Bronze Age and the Iron Age I is not unique. See, for example, the discussion over the Middle Bronze Age-Late Bronze Age transition: Seger 1975; Dever 1987; 1990; Bunimovitz 1992.

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

57

The longue durée Approach Studying changes that took place over long periods of time in a regional context calls for use of the longue durée approach in the spirit of the Annales School (Braudel 1972; 1980: 25–54; Hodder 1987). The three-hundred-year span reviewed here should be considered a middle-term time range. The long-term review will help to expose the way the natural habitat affected human living conditions and how this effect was manifested in changes of the social order of the area. Conceptualizing the region from this point of view allows us to notice cyclical processes occurring over hundreds of years, thereby creating a framework and enabling better comprehension of the middle- and short-term events reviewed later in this paper (Marfoe 1979; Knapp 1992; 1993; Finkelstein 1994; 1995b). The main characteristic of the natural environment of the central Coastal Plain (Fig. 1) is the relative abundance of water. The springs at Aphek are the second most prominent and stable water source in western Israel after the Jordan River. Avitsur has shown that in the past the outflow from the springs reached as much as 220 million m3 per year (Avitsur 1957: 24). The water from the springs together with precipitation runoff from the hills of Samaria are drained naturally by the Yarkon River (ibid.: 11–17), which merges with the Ayalon River three km east of its outlet to the sea. The Ayalon River has a drainage area of approximately 800 km2 (Grober 1969). Clearly, the ability of human settlers to utilize the landscape was determined primarily by their ability to control the abundance of water flow (Amiran 1953: 198). If care was taken to ensure adequate drainage, the area would have been highly fertile. The alluvium soils located both at the foot of the Samarian Hills and around the Ayalon River in the south were considered to be highly suitable for the cultivation of many kinds of crops. The kurkar ridges farther west were used mainly as grazing land and for viticulture; but large seasonal pools and swamps were easily created at their foot, similar to those existing just fifty years ago east of Jaffa.3 The large volume of water flowing through the converged river also caused considerable erosion along its banks

3 For a description of the hazards of the Yarkon, see Avitsur 1957: 184–197. For a large swamp located east of Jaffa, see Raban 1990–1993: 100.

58

yuval gadot

and overflow in other places. Therefore, during times when no effort was made to manage the water resources, swamps and seasonal pools quickly formed, diseases were spread, and the land virtually became a wasteland. Previous studies of other regions in the country have demonstrated the fact that managing and controlling the natural environment—in this case the flow of water and their drainage—is dependent upon social and political conditions: while well-integrated social units have the ability to execute public projects that ensure long-term maintenance of the natural and cultivated habitat, in times of social disintegration the natural conditions quickly deteriorate. In turn, the worsened conditions accelerate social fragmentation.4 This process has been known to lead to the creation of cyclic shifts between periods: At times, the Coastal Plain was governed by a strong and integrated social power and the sedentary population flourished; at other times, when the area became a frontier zone, it was home for pastoral groups and other marginal elements of society. The first urban system to exist in the area was during the Early Bronze Ib period.5 After its collapse, most of the area became void of sedentary settlements for nearly a thousands years.6 In the Middle Bronze IIa the great city-state of Aphek was established, surrounded by numerous settlements among them fortified towns like Tel Gerisa and Tell Kana, villages, farmsteads, and even small industrial installations located outside the settlements proper.7 This flourishing settlement system completely disintegrated by the Late Bronze Age and the area

4 The first to emphasize the connection between social order and the natural conditions in the Levant was Marfoe in his integrative model (1979). Bunimovitz (1994) has used the longue durée approach when analyzing changes that took place during the Late Bronze–Iron Age transition and suggested that understanding changes that took place in Israel’s lowlands should be done against the background of the ‘shifting boundaries’ model. See also Greenberg 2002. 5 For the settlement pattern of the area during the Early Bronze Ib, see Gophna 1996: Fig. 74; Getzov et al. 2001: Fig. 11. 6 During the Early Bronze II, the only settlements to exist in the area were sites like Tel Dalit—located at the low hills to the east of the plain—while the plains were left uninhabited. It seems that these settlements should be viewed as the western edge of the settlement system that existed in the highlands at that time (Gophna 1974: 159; cf. Broshi and Gophna 1984; Gophna and Portugali 1988; Finkelstein 1995c). 7 For Aphek and its hinterland during the Middle Bronze IIa, see Kochavi 1989: 54; for the rural settlements found around Aphek, see Gophna and Beck 1981. See also Kletter and Gorzalczany 2001 for a description of pottery workshops that were located outside the main settlements.

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

59

was again marginalized and utilized by nomadic groups (Bunimovitz 1994: 181–186; Gadot 2003: 183–187). Similar cyclic processes can be discerned in later periods too. During most of the Ottoman period (16th–19th centuries CE), the Yarkon basin was nearly empty of sedentary population (Grossman 1994: 154–156; Hütteroth and Abdulfattah 1977). In the midst of the 19th century, Jaffa turned into a gateway for western influence and for Egyptian immigrants. This had triggered off changes in the settlement pattern of the area. Using modern technology, swamps and seasonal pools were drained, and diseases were thus controlled (Grossman 1994: 154 and references there). The attested cyclic pattern of sociopolitical transformation, which characterizes the region throughout history, will now serve as a background upon which the specific short-term events that took place during the transition from the Late Bronze to the Iron I periods will be evaluated. The First System: The Egyptian Dominance Egyptian involvement in Israel’s central Coastal Plain probably began after Thutmose III’s military campaign to Canaan (ca. 1475 BCE).8 Archaeological evidence for Egyptian presence in these early stages is scarce. Egyptian-shaped vessels were found at Tel Michal Stratum XV, and at Aphek Stratum X14.9 Both contexts are dated to the Late Bronze Ib or to the beginning of the Late Bronze II. It was only after Amenhotep II’s third campaign, three decades later, that the Egyptians imposed direct control over the region. According to the annals of Amenhotep II, Aphek was the first city to surrender peacefully to the king on his march northward (Frankel and Kochavi 2000: 17). It is from this period on that we have clear historical and archaeological evidences for strong Egyptian presence.

8 Following Wente and Van Siclen’s chronology 1977; for Thutmose III’s campaigns, see Redford 2003 and earlier references there. 9 For Tel Michal, see Negbi 1989a: Fig. 5.7: 14. For Aphek, see Martin et al. forthcoming. Petrographic examinations conducted on the vessel from Aphek proved that though stylistically the vessel is Egyptian, the clay that was used is local.

60

yuval gadot

Jaffa Letters EA294, EA296, and maybe EA138 and EA365, found in the Amarna archive, describe Jaffa as an Egyptian administrative center (Moran 1992; Goren et al. 2004: 320–25). This center included a large granary (EA294) in which corveè workers, sent from neighboring citystates, were employed. The city-states were also obliged to send guards to serve at the gate of the fort (EA296). Literary evidence from the days of Ramesses II, namely Papyrus Anastasi I, show that during this era, Jaffa continued to serve as an Egyptian political and administrative stronghold (Ahituv 1984: 121). Excavations conducted at the site of ancient Jaffa, first by J. Kaplan and recently by Z. Herzog, unearthed ample finds that support the historical evidence. The earliest structure found in the excavation is the so-called Lion Temple dated by Kaplan to the beginning of the Iron I period (Kaplan and Riter-Kaplan 1993: 658). According to Z. Herzog (personal communication), his renewed excavations at the site have proven that the Lion Temple should in fact be redated to the 14th century BCE. Inside the temple Kaplan found a lion skull with a scarab bearing the name of Queen Tiy, the wife of Amenhotep III. Above the Lion Temple he unearthed the remains of a gate and a fortification wall; both were parts of two fortresses that existed in succession (Kaplan and Riter-Kaplan 1993: 656–657). On a fragment of the jamb of the earlier gate (Stratum IVb), an inscription mentioning the name of Ramesses II was found. This fortress was heavily burnt and a new fortress was then built on top of its ruins. Aphek Substantial evidence for Egyptian presence at Aphek was found in Strata X13 and X12. In both strata the acropolis of the site was occupied by an edifice,10 while the rest of the site was uninhabited. Palace 4430 of Stratum X13, the larger but less preserved of the two buildings, included a large paved courtyard, which extended in front of a room complex (Fig. 2). Two rows of pillar bases were found to the north of the courtyard, and are probably the remains of a colonnade decorating its entrance. Palaces similar in plan are rare in second-millennium-BCE

10

For Area X, see Kochavi et al. 2000: Fig. 1.5.

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

61

Canaan, where most of the palaces were built around an inner court (Oren 1992: 105–120). The only palace built in a manner similar to the one at Aphek was found at neighboring Tel Gerisa. The use of a colonnade is also rare. It seems then that the palace was built in a foreign tradition, possibly Egyptian.11 When palace 4430 went out of use, a new public structure was built on top of it: Palace 1104—better known as the Egyptian Governor’s residency.12 A detailed analysis of the finds from within the building and from the open spaces next to it has shown that the building served political, military, bureaucratic, and economical purposes simultaneously.13 The building must have housed a scribe who was responsible mainly for recording agricultural surpluses stored at the place and maybe even for international correspondence; a vintner in charge of the production of white wine, and perhaps other kinds as well, at the two large winepresses located northwest of the building (Frankel and Gadot forthcoming); a small garrison; and laborers executing the hard work that was required (Gadot 2003: 217). The ethnic affiliation of the building’s owner can be inferred from the many Egyptian features evident in the material culture yielded from it: the overall architectural plan; the use of blue plaster to decorate the upper floor mudbricks; the numerous locally made Egyptian-style pottery vessels (Fig. 3); and the unique faience tablet that must have originated from a foundation deposit of the building (Giveon 1978b; Kochavi 1990). Tel Gerisa Tel Gerisa is located near the southern bank of the Yarkon River. Excavations at the tell, directed by Z. Herzog, exposed a Late Bronze II–III edifice located at the center of the site (Herzog 1993: 482–483; 1997: 183), which resembles Aphek Palace 4430, as they both consist of a courtyard extending in front of the room complex. It can be speculated on the basis of similarities of the ground floor that the 11 Both the use of a colonnade and the location of the court at the front of the edifice are known in Egyptian New Kingdom architecture. See, for example, Badawy 1968; Leick 1988; Lacovava 1997. 12 For previous publications of the palace, see Kochavi 1978: 1–7; 1990; Gadot forthcoming a; for a discussion of its architectural layout and its Egyptian features, see Oren 1984: 49–50; Daviau 1993: 421–422; Higginbotham 2000: 289–290. 13 For a detailed discussion of the finds from Building 1104 and its roll, see Gadot 2003: 203–214.

62

yuval gadot

palace at Tel Gerisa was also built in an Egyptian tradition. It seems then, that like Aphek, Tel Gerisa too was home to an Egyptian estate. A full reconstruction of its nature awaits final publication. The picture that emerges from the three sites excavated in the Yarkon basin vis-à-vis the available written sources, shows that during the second part of the Late Bronze Age, the Egyptians decided to annex the territory of the central Coastal Plain from Canaanite control and turn these lands into official estates. The territory was governed from Jaffa, which had turned into a governing stronghold. Aphek and Gerisa were turned into royal or temple estates each assuming both economical and political duties.14 But Egyptian dominance over the area did not wipe out Canaanite presence. On the contrary, most of the material evidence found during the excavation such as ceramic vessels, jewelry, and figurines is of the local Canaanite tradition. It seems that while the social and political elite governing the estate was culturally Egyptian,15 other parts of society consisted of a local Canaanite population that kept its traditional way of life. The Second System: No Man’s Land By the time of the 20th Dynasty in Egypt, the settlement pattern around the Yarkon-Ayalon basin had completely changed (Fig. 1). The Egyptian centers at Jaffa, Aphek, and maybe Gerisa were violently destroyed, never to be rebuilt. The latest datable finds originating from the three centers are from the time of Ramesses II. It can therefore be speculated that the Egyptian system around the Yarkon River collapsed at the end of Ramesses II’s reign or during the early days of his successor, Merneptah.16 In only two of the excavated sites in the region were remains dating to this period found—{Izbet Âartah III and Aphek X11.17 Both places For similar royal estates located at the Jezreel Valley, see Naxaman 1981. This does not necessarily mean that they were born in Egypt; they could also have been locals who had emulated Egyptian culture (Higginbotham 2000). 16 A single scarab of Ramesses IV was found at Aphek (Giveon 1978a). As the scarab was found in a later pit, it can only prove that Aphek existed during the time of Ramesses IV or later. The view of the present author is that scarabs should be used in dating Stratum X11, which post-dates the Egyptian center of Stratum X12. 17 For {Izbet Âartah, see Finkelstein 1986. For Aphek, see Gadot forthcoming b. 14 15

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

63

were modest villages lacking public architecture. There are clues that Azor was also settled,18 but here too, no public architecture or wealth accumulation can be discerned. The disappearance of Egyptian hegemony left a political void in the region. The nearest political entity at that time was probably at Gezer, which became an Egyptian stronghold during the days of the 20th Dynasty (Singer 1985: 116–117; 1986–1987; Bunimovitz 1988–1989; Maeir 1988–1989; Finkelstein 2002: 281). Even so, there are no signs to suggest that Gezer actually exercised political power over the region. The lack of central authority led to the deterioration of environmental conditions as the overflow of water from the natural springs was not drained. Swamps and seasonal pools spread and brought with them diseases. The harsh natural conditions, in their turn, escalated social disintegration. Nomads and other marginal elements of society moved into the region, exploiting it for their needs and pushing the more stabilized groups out. Not all components of material culture changed with the collapse of Egyptian hegemony. Continuation can be seen mainly in the ceramic tradition. While the Egyptianized pottery vessels disappeared from the assemblages altogether, other clay vessels styled in local tradition, like simple open bowls, cooking-pots, flasks, and storage jars, continued to be manufactured with minimal stylistic changes (Finkelstein 1986: 198, pottery types 1, 2, and 20; Gadot 2003: 144). Apparently, changes in the sociopolitical order affected only some aspects of material culture—mainly those reflecting Egyptian presence or influence. Other parts, reflecting daily activities of the local population, continued to evolve uninterrupted. The Third System: Philistine Exploitation The sociopolitical order within the area and the ethnic make-up of the population changed once again with the arrival of the Philistines. These changes are indicated mainly by the shift seen in the settlement pattern (Fig. 1), and by the appearance of Philistine-related Bichrome pottery at all sites dated to this phase. Based on material culture, we know today that the Philistines initially immigrated only to the southern

18

For Late Bronze/Iron Age finds at Azor, see Gophna and Busheri 1967.

64

yuval gadot

Coastal Plain, to places like Ashkelon, Ashdod, and Ekron (Mazar 1985b; Stager 1995). Only several decades later did they turn their attention to areas surrounding their new homeland, like the Yarkon region (Mazar 1985a: 119–120; Singer 1985; Gadot 2006). The lack of a central governing power and social fragmentation were used by the Philistines who exploited the region for their economic needs. Small farmsteads were established at places like Tel Gerisa and Aphek (Herzog 1993: 483; Gadot forthcoming b). The finds from Aphek, among them a threshing floor occupying most of the upper tell,19 teach us that it was a small agricultural center responsible for the production and organization of nearby agricultural fields. Examination of the provenance of cultic and administrative finds from Aphek show that they were made at Ashkelon (Fig. 4),20 thus indicating strong ties between Ashkelon and Aphek. A larger settlement was built at Tell Qasile (Mazar 1980; 1985a). The town was preplanned with a temple occupying its center, large courtyard houses surrounding it, and smaller four-room houses at the outskirts of the site. All of these are indications of wealth accumulation and social stratification. It can be speculated that the social elite at Tell Qasile served as a mediator between the small farmsteads located next to the Yarkon River, where agricultural surplus was produced, and the large city-states to its south, at the heartland of the Philistine territory (Gadot 2006). But the marked change in settlement pattern and the sudden appearance of the Philistine Bichrome tradition tells only part of the story. As in the two earlier periods, the material culture shows strong ties mainly with the Canaanite tradition. Continuity of tradition can be observed spanning the entire range of the material culture: from features pertaining to daily life activities to the design of the temples: Cooking-Pots Fig. 5 compares Late Bronze cooking-pots found at Aphek and Iron I cooking-pots found at Tell Qasile. Apparently, the vessels stayed morphologically similar over the years, and the only differences are stylistic changes in the shape of the rim. These changes should be viewed as For a detailed description of the finds at Philistine Aphek, see Gadot 2003: 224–230; 2006; Mahler-Slasky and Kislev forthcoming. 20 See Yasur-Landau 2002: 413; for similar results of examinations of finds from Tell Qasile, see Yellin and Gunneweg 1985. 19

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

65

evolutionary and have no known functional implication.21 Cookingpots were used for food preparation and that they did not change in the course of time reflects the fact that no major change in food preparation and consumption habits occurred. The limited number of Philistine cooking-pots found both at Tell Qasile and at Aphek22 further supports this claim. Pottery Vessel Decoration The Philistines brought with them a whole range of decorative designs, alien to local traditions; but soon after their arrival, local traditions began influencing their repertoire of decorative motifs (Dothan 1982: 215; Mazar 1985b: 106). Analysis of the decorative motifs found on the pottery assemblage from Tell Qasile has shown that it represents mainly local traditions (Mazar 1985a: 103). This notion is true also for the assemblage of cult vessels found in association with the temple (Mazar 1980: 78–121). As Mazar shows, the vessels have varied cultural origins, but most of them continue local Canaanite traditions in their shape and decoration (ibid.: 95, 119). There is more than one way to explain how Canaanite motifs found their way into the Philistines’ repertoire: from simple influence of neighboring cultures to the possibility that a certain percentage of the Philistine population was actually of local origin.23 In any case, it is clear that the Canaanite culture and its bearers in the southern and central Coastal Plain of Israel did not disappear following the Philistine take-over of the land. Temples The Tell Qasile temples of Strata XII–X have always attracted scholarly attention, being the first supposedly Philistine temples to be unearthed. A. Mazar’s in-depth study of the temples and their cultural origins has shown that the origins of the architectural plan of these temples and of the cult vessels found in them are not rooted in any specific culture

For a comprehensive study, see Killebrew 1999. Killeberw (above n. 54); For philistine cooking-pots found at Tell Qasile, see Mazar 1985a: Type CP2 and CP3; for cooking-pots from Aphek, see Gadot 2003: 123. 23 See Ellenblum 1998: 277 for a similar reconstruction of the Christian population in the country during the Crusader period and the differences between foreign “crusaders” and local “Franks”. 21 22

66

yuval gadot

and demonstrate many Canaanite features (Mazar 1985a: 68; 2000: 216; see also Negbi 1989b: 215–219; Bunimovitz 1990: 214). Similar to decorative motifs previously discussed, these Canaanite features could be the result of cultural influence, but the fact that Canaanite traditions found their way into the new, evolving Philistine culture shows that the Canaanite culture did not disappear following the arrival of the Philistines. Discussion New sociopolitical organizations had emerged along the Yarkon-Ayalon basin during the Late Bronze–Iron Age three times in succession. Twice the initiation of the new social order was brought about by an outside political power that had taken advantage of fragmented local social groups in order to exploit the region economically. The first to do so were the Egyptians who turned Jaffa into one of their strongholds in Canaan and turned the plains along the Yarkon River into royal or temple estates. The second were the Philistines who immigrated into the region from the south in order to exploit it, and founded city-states. Between these two colonizing systems the area had been marginalized and no single centralized social group had control over the land. None of the social elements occupying the region were organized enough to keep environmental conditions stabilized, thus, swamps and seasonal pools formed, spreading diseases that eventually pushed sedentary population out of the region. Nomads and other marginalized groups moved into the now-vacant area. One fact that stands out in the discussion is the clear discontinuity between the three social entities (Fig. 6). The Egyptian colonizing system ended violently. Following this break a new social system emerged characterized by weak social institutions. Approximately a century later offshoots from Philistine Ashkelon migrated into the area and established a new sociopolitical order. But the discontinuity of the sociopolitical order is only one side of the story. While some aspects of the material culture changed radically (e.g., settlement patterns, the appearance and disappearance of Egyptianized pottery, and the appearance of Philistine Bichrome pottery), others show strong ties with the local Canaanite tradition and the changes they display are only small stylistic evolutions. The illustration in Fig. 6 does not represent the full complex picture of continuity and change and an

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

67

alternative model should be sought. In a recent article Portugali offered to employ self-organization theory, developed by physicians in order to understand the mechanism of changes in complex and open systems, to analyze changes in the social order of ancient Israel (Portugali 1994; 2000).24 According to this theory, systems tend to exhibit long periods of stability followed by short periods of strong fluctuations and chaos. Out of the instability a new stabilized order emerges until it too collapses. During the long period of stability, the system is governed by an “order parameter”; when it disintegrates the system enters a period of instability. During this time, rival forces—“order states”—compete between themselves until at one point a new “order parameter” emerges and enslaves the other competing orders, thus stabilizing the system (Portugali 2000: 70–81). The social structure in Israel’s central Coastal Plain should certainly be viewed as an open and complex system and as such the rules of self-organization may be applied in order to describe changes that took place at this region. It has to be remembered that the sociopolitical system that existed in the Coastal Plain did not exist in isolation. In fact, the central Coastal Plain should be viewed as a sub-system within other systems—larger in scale. When dealing with the emergence of ancient Israel, Portugali recognizes three levels of systems (Portugali 1994: 211; 2000: 79–80), the global system of the Late Bronze Age, the regional sub-system existing in the Land of Israel, and the local sub-system: Israelites, Canaanites, and Philistines. Being open systems it has to be remembered that they interacted constantly, and events in one system influenced the development of the other systems. The theory of selforganization presumes that the “order parameter” grows from within the system and enslaves it, but Israel’s Coastal Plain is a sub-system within a greater system. As such, it is not impossible that an external “order parameter,” existing in the larger system will interfere with the struggle over dominance in the sub-system and enslave it. During the second part of the Late Bronze Age, after a period of fluctuation and political fragmentation, the Egyptians subdued the sociopolitical system existing in the region, establishing their own hegemony as an “order parameter.” The region entered a long period

24 An open system is one that is “in constant interaction with its environment.” Complex systems are systems in which their “parts are so numerous that there is no way to establish casual relations among them” (Portugali 1994: 209).

68

yuval gadot

of stabilization. For reasons beyond the scope of this paper Egyptian hegemony ended. A period began during which no “order state” was able to subjugate the whole region. Out of the chaotic conditions a new “order parameter” emerged. This was the Philistines who took over the region and created stable political and environmental conditions. Self-organization theory also helps to understand the continuation seen in the local Canaanite tradition, as it offers a number of models that explain changes (Portugali 2000: 81 ff.). The transition from the Late Bronze to the Iron Age I was normally viewed by scholars as a stratigraphical change (ibid.): the sociopolitical order changes from one stabilized position to another with a short period of instability in between. The earlier order vanishes completely with the establishment of the new order. This model was offered because earlier literature emphasized the changes that took place rather than continuity trends (see, for example, Albright 1949: 10; Wright 1961: 114). The identification of cultural continuity proves that the earlier social formation did not vanish. If so, what did happened to it? Or in terms of selforganization theory: What happened to the competing “order states” when the new “order parameter” emerged? According to the theory, they do not cease to exist but merely become incorporated into the new system (Fig. 7). This enslavement can take physical and material forms, but it can also be a cognitive one, leaving the earlier culture in the collective historical memory. Using the terms offered by the selforganization theory, changes that took place during the Late Bronze and Iron Ages in the central Coastal Plain are to be viewed as furcative changes (Portugali 2000: 82–83). Conclusion The Egyptians captured and enslaved the Canaanite central Coastal Plain, during the Late Bronze Age, becoming the dominant sociopolitical order; but they did not wipe out earlier local culture (Fig. 7). After a period of instability, during which a few “order states” competed over hegemony in the region the Philistines became the dominant power in the area, again only subjugating the local culture. It is apparent then that the transition between the Late Bronze and the Iron Age I in the central Coastal Plain is characterized by both continuity and change. The regional approach to dealing with the question of the Late Bronze-Iron Age transition has led researchers to recognize the diverse

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

69

and fragmented history of the country.25 The natural environment of the central Coastal Plain is unique. Hence, human attitudes toward these natural conditions are also unique. If we wish to achieve a comprehensive understanding of the social transformation that took place at the close of the second millennium, we must first recognize the different cultural regions making up ancient Israel at that time and acknowledge that each had its own local and environmental histories. These diverse and fragmented regional pictures will eventually create a large detailed mosaic of the country as a whole, explaining the transition from the Late Bronze to the Iron Age.

25 For a similar approach for understanding the birth of urbanism, see Greenberg 2002.

70

yuval gadot References

Ahituv, S. 1984. Canaanite Toponyms in Ancient Egyptian Documents. Jerusalem. Albright, W. F. 1931. The Third Campaign at Tell Beit Mirsim and Its Historical Results. Journal of the Palestine Oriental Society 11: 105–129. ——. 1939. The Israelite Conquest of Canaan in the Light of Archaeology. BASOR 74: 11–23. ——. 1949. The Archaeology of Palestine. Middlesex. Amiran, D. H. K. 1953. The Pattern of Settlement in Palestine. IEJ 3: 192–209. Avitsur, S. 1957. The Yarkon: The River and Its Environment. Tel Aviv (Hebrew). Badawy, A. 1968. A History of Egyptian Architecture. Vol. 3: The Empire (The New Kingdom). Berkeley and Los Angeles. Braudel, F. 1972. The Mediterranean and the Mediterranean World in the Age of Philip II. New York. ——. 1980. On History (translated by Sarah Matthews). London. Broshi, M. and Gophna, R. 1984. The Settlement and Population of Palestine during the Early Bronze Age II–III. BASOR 253: 41–54. Bunimovitz, S. 1988–1989. An Egyptian ‘Governor’s Residency’ at Gezer? Another Suggestion. Tel Aviv 15–16: 68–76. ——. 1990. Problems in the “Ethnic” Identification of the Philistine Material Culture. Tel Aviv 17: 210–222. ——. 1992. The Beginning of the Late Bronze Age in Palestine. EI 23 (Avraham Biran Volume): 21–25 (Hebrew with English summary). ——. 1994. Socio-Political Transformations in the Central Hill Country in the Late Bronze–Iron I Transition. In: Finkelstein, I. and Naxaman, N., eds. From Nomadism to Monarchy: Archaeological and Historical Aspects of Early Israel. Jerusalem: 179–202. Daviau, P. M. M. 1993. Houses and Their Furnishings in Bronze Age Palestine. Sheffield. Dever, W. G. 1987. Middle Bronze Age: The Zenith of the Urban Canaanite Era. Biblical Archaeologist 50: 149–177. ——. 1990. Hyksos, Egyptian Destruction and the End of the Palestinian Middle Bronze Age. Levant 22: 75–81. ——. 1992. The Late Bronze–Early Iron I Horizon in Syria-Palestine: Egyptians, Canaanites, ‘Sea Peoples’, and Proto-Israelites. In: Ward, W. A. and Sharp-Joukowsky, M., eds. The Crisis Years: The 12th Century BC from beyond the Danube to the Tigris. Dubuque: 99–110. ——. 1993a. Biblical Archaeology: Death and Rebirth. In: Biran, A. and Aviram, J., eds. Biblical Archaeology Today 1990: Proceedings of the Second International Congress on Biblical Archaeology. Jerusalem: 706–724. ——. 1993b. What Remains of the House that Albright Built? Biblical Archaeologist 56: 25–35. Dothan, T. 1982. The Philistines and Their Material Culture. New Haven. Ellenblum, R. 1998. Frankish Rural Settlement in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem. Cambridge. Finkelstein, I. 1986. {Izbet Âartah: An Early Iron Age Site near Rosh Ha{ayin, Israel (BAR International Series 299). Oxford. ——. 1994. The Emergence of Israel: A Phase in the Cyclic History of Canaan in the Third and Second Millennia BCE. In: Finkelstein, I. and Naxaman, N., eds. From Nomadism to Monarchy: Archaeological and Historical Aspects of Early Israel. Jerusalem: 150–178. ——. 1995a. The Date of the Settlement of the Philistines in Canaan. Tel Aviv 22: 213–239.

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

71

——. 1995b. The Great Transformation: The ‘Conquest’ of the Highlands Frontiers and the Rise of the Territorial States. In: Levy, T. E., ed. The Archaeology of Society in the Holy Land. London: 349–365. ——. 1995c. Two Notes on Early Bronze Age Urbanization and Urbanism. Tel Aviv 22: 47–69. ——. 2002. Gezer Revisited and Revised. Tel Aviv 29: 262–296. ——. 2003. New Canaan. EI 27 (Hayim and Miriam Tadmor Volume): 189–195 (Hebrew with English summary). Frankel, R. and Kochavi, M. 2000. History of Aphek-Antipatris. In: Kochavi, M., Beck, P., and Yadin, E., eds. Aphek Antipatris I: Excavation of Areas A and B: The 1972–1976 Seasons (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 19). Tel Aviv: 16–38. Frankel, R. and Gadot, Y. Forthcoming. The Winepresses in Area A. In: Kochavi, M., Gadot, Y., and Yadin, E., eds. Aphek II: The Acropolis (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. Gadot, Y. 2003. Continuity and Change: Cultural Processes in the Late Bronze and Early Iron Ages in Israel’s Central Coastal Plain (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv (Hebrew). ——. 2006. Aphek in the Sharon and the Philistine Northern Frontier. BASOR 341: 21–36. ——. Forthcoming a. Stratigraphy of the Late Bronze Strata X14–X12. In: Kochavi, M., Gadot, Y., and Yadin, E., eds. Aphek II: The Acropolis (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. ——. Forthcoming b. Iron Age Stratigraphy Strata X11–X6 In: Kochavi, M., Gadot, Y., and Yadin, E., eds. Aphek II: The Acropolis (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. Getzov, N., Pazz, Y., and Gophna, R. 2001. Shifting Urban Landscapes during the Early Bronze Age in the Land of Israel. Tel Aviv. Giveon, S. 1978a. Fouilles et travaux de l’Université de Tel-Aviv: découvertes égyptiennes récentes. Bulletin de la Societé Francaise d`Égyptologie 81: 6–17. ——. 1978b. Two Unique Egyptian Inscriptions from Tel Aphek. Tel Aviv 5: 188– 191. Gophna, R. 1974. The Settlement of the Coastal Plain of Eretz Israel during the Early Bronze Age (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv (Hebrew). ——. 1996. Excavations at Tel Dalit: An Early Bronze Age Walled Town in Central Israel. Tel Aviv. Gophna, R. and Beck, P. 1981. The Rural Aspect of the Settlement Pattern of the Coastal Plain in the Middle Bronze Age II. Tel Aviv 8: 45–80. Gophna, R. and Busheri, M. 1967. Azor. Hadashot Arkheologiyot 21: 7–8. Gophna, R. and Portugali, Y. 1988. Settlement and Demographic Processes in Israel’s Coastal Plain from the Chalcolithic to the Middle Bronze Age. BASOR 269: 11–28. Goren, Y., Finkelstein, I., and Naxaman, N. 2004. Inscribed in Clay: Provenance Study of the Amarna Tablets and other Ancient Near Eastern Texts (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 23). Tel Aviv. Greenberg, R. 2002. Early Urbanizations in the Levant: A Regional Perspective. London and New York. Grober, Y. 1969. The Drainage System and the Exploitation of Water Resources. In: Morton, S., ed. The Western Ayalon Basin. Tel Aviv: 32–48 (Hebrew). Grossman, D. 1994. Expansion and Desertion: The Arab Village and Its Offshoots in Ottoman Palestine. Jerusalem (Hebrew). Herzog, Z. 1993. Gerisa, Tel. NEAEHL 2: 480–484. ——. 1997. The Archaeology of the City: Architectural and Social Aspects of Urbanization (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 13). Tel Aviv.

72

yuval gadot

Higginbotham, C. R. 2000. Egyptianization and Elite Emulation in Ramesside Palestine. Leiden. Hodder, I. 1987. The Contribution of the Long Term. In: Hodder, I., ed. Archaeology as Long Term History. Cambridge: 1–8. Hütteroth, W. D. and Abdulfattah, K. 1977. Historical Geography of Palestine, Transjordan and Southern Syria in the Late 16th Century. Erlangen. Kaplan, J. and Ritter-Kaplan, H. 1993. Jaffa. NEAEHL 2: 655–659. Kempinski, A. 1985. The Overlap of Cultures at the End of the Late Bronze Age and the Beginning of the Iron Age. EI 18 (Nahman Avigad Volume): 399–407 (Hebrew with English summary). Killebrew, A. E. 1999. Late Bronze and Iron I Cooking Pots in Canaan: A Typological, Technological, and Functional Study. In: Kapitan, T., ed. Archaeology, History and Culture in Palestine and the Near East: Essays in Memory of Albert E. Glock. Atlanta: 83–126. Kletter, R. and Gorzalczany, A. 2001. A Middle Bronze Age II Type of Pottery Kiln from the Coastal Plain of Israel. Levant 33: 95–104. Knapp, A. B., ed. 1992. Archaeology, Annales and Ethnohistory. Cambridge. ——. 1993. Society and Polity at Bronze Age Pella: An Annales Perspective. Sheffield. Kochavi, M. 1978. The Archaeological Context of the Aphek Inscriptions. In: Kochavi, M., Rainey, A., Singer, I., and Demsky, A., eds. Aphek-Antipatris 1974–1977: The Inscriptions. Tel Aviv: 1–7. ——. 1989. Aphek-Antipatris: Five Thousand Years of History. Tel Aviv (Hebrew). ——. 1990. Aphek in Canaan: The Egyptian Governor’s Residence and Its Finds (Israel Museum Catalogue No. 312). Jerusalem. Kochavi, M., Beck, P., and Yadin, E., eds. 2000. Aphek Antipatris I, Excavation of Areas A and B: The 1972–1976 Seasons (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 19). Tel Aviv. Lacovava, P. 1997. The New Kingdom Royal City. London and New York. Leick, G. 1988. A Dictionary of Ancient Near Eastern Architecture. London and New York. Maeir, A. M. 1988–1989. Remarks on a Supposed Egyptian Residency at Gezer. Tel Aviv 15–16: 65–67. Mahler-Slasky, Y. and Kislev, M. E. Forthcoming. Food Remains from Area X. In: Kochavi, M., Gadot, Y., and Yadin, E., eds. Aphek II: The Acropolis (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. Marfoe, L. 1979. The Integrative Transformation: Patterns of Sociopolitical Organization in Southern Syria. BASOR 234: 1–42. Martin, M. A. S., Gadot, Y., and Goren, Y. Forthcoming. The Egyptian and Egyptianized Pottery Assemblage from Tel Aphek. In: Kochavi, M., Gadot, Y., and Yadin, E., eds. Aphek II: The Acropolis (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. Mazar, A. 1980. Excavations at Tell Qasile I: The Philistine Sanctuary: Architecture and Cult Objects (Qedem 12). Jerusalem. ——. 1985a. Excavations at Tell Qasile II: The Philistine Sanctuary: Various Finds, the Pottery, Conclusions, Appendixes (Qedem 20). Jerusalem. ——. 1985b. The Emergence of the Philistine Material Culture. IEJ 35: 95–107. ——. 1990. Archaeology of the Land of the Bible. New York. ——. 2000. The Temples and Cult of the Philistines. In: Oren, E. D., ed. The Sea Peoples and Their World: A Reassessment (University Museum Monograph 108). Philadelphia: 213–232. Moran, W. L. 1992. The Amarna Letters. Baltimore. Naxaman, N. 1981. Economic Aspects of the Egyptian Occupation of Canaan. IEJ 31: 172–185. Negbi, O. 1989a. Bronze Age Pottery (Strata XVII–XV). In: Herzog, Z., Rapp, G. Jr., and Negbi, O., eds. Excavations at Tel Michal, Israel (Publications of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 8). Tel Aviv: 43–63.

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

73

——. 1989b. The Temples at Tell Qasile—Additional Comments on Their Architecture and Cultic Affinities. EI 20: 215–219. Oren, E. D. 1985. ‘Governors’ Residencies in Canaan under the New Kingdom: A Case Study of Egyptian Administration. Journal of Society for the Study of Egyptian Antiquities 14: 37–56. ——. 1992. Palaces and Patrician Houses in the Middle and Late Bronze Ages. In: Kempinski, A. and Reich, R., eds. The Architecture of Ancient Israel from the Prehistoric to the Persian Periods. Jerusalem: 105–120. Palestine Exploration Fund. 1923. Notes and News. Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly Statement April, 1923: 54–55. Portugali, J. 1994. Theoretical Speculations on the Transition from Nomadism to Monarchy. In: Finkelstein, I. and Naxaman, N. eds. From Nomadism to Monarchy: Archaeological and Historical Aspects of Early Israel. Jerusalem: 203–217. ——. 2000. Self Organization and the City. Berlin. Raban, A. 1990–1993. The Ancient Harbors of Jaffa. Israel People and Land: 7–8: 95–113 (Hebrew with English summary). Redford, D. 2003. The Wars in Syria and Palestine of Thutmose III. Leiden. Seger, J. D. 1975. The MBII Fortifications at Shechem and Gezer: A Hyksos Retrospective. EI 12: 34*–45*. Singer, I. 1985. The Beginning of Philistine Settlement in Canaan and the Northern Boundary of Philistia. Tel Aviv 12: 109–122. ——. 1986–1987. An Egyptian “Governor’s Residency” at Gezer? Tel Aviv 13: 26–31. Stager, L. E. 1995. The Impact of the Sea Peoples in Canaan (1185–1050 BCE). In: Levy, T. E., ed. The Archaeology of Society in the Holy Land. London: 332–348. Ussishkin, D. 1985. Levels VII and VI at Tel Lachish and the End of the Late Bronze Age in Canaan. In: Tubb, J. N., ed. Palestine in the Bronze and Iron Ages, Papers in Honour of Olga Tufnell. London: 213–230. Wente, E. F. and Van Siclen, C. C. 1977. A Chronology of the New Kingdom. In: Johnson, J. H. and Wente, E. F., eds. Studies in Honor of George R. Hughes (Studies in Ancient Oriental Civilization. Chicago: 217–261. Wood, B. G. 1985. Palestinian Pottery of the Late Bronze Age: An Investigation of the Terminal LB IIB Phase (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Toronto). Toronto. Wright, G. E. 1961. The Archaeology of Palestine. In: Wright, G. E., ed. The Bible and the Near East: Essays in Honor of William Foxwell Albright. Garden City: 85–139. Yasur-Landau, A. 2002. Social Aspects of Aegean Settlement in the Southern Levant at the End of the 2nd Millennium BCE (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. Yellin, J. and Gunneweg, J. 1985. Provenience of Pottery from Tell Qasile Strata VII, X, XI and XII. In: Mazar, A., ed. Excavations at Tell Qasile II: The Philistine Sanctuary: Various Finds, the Pottery, Conclusions, Appendixes (Qedem 20). Jerusalem: 111–117.

PERMANENT AND TEMPORARY SETTLEMENTS IN THE SOUTH OF THE LOWER BESOR REGION: TWO CASE STUDIES1 Dan Gazit . . . and what cities they be that they dwell in, whether in tents, or in strongholds . . . Num. 13: 19

Introduction The south of the Lower Besor region is located in the semi-arid climatic zone of southern Israel (Shachar et al. 1995: 27). The rainfed agriculture borderline—the 250 mm annual average isohyet2—cuts across its center from east to west (Gazit 1986: 39–49). The natural climatic circumstances of the region and its soils form conditions suitable for the growth of dense annual shrubbery, and set the anthropological background for the southern population of the region, characterized throughout the ages by its pastoralist lifestyle. It was in these territories of semi-nomadic populations that four fortified settlements (Tel Sera{, Tel Haror, Tell Jemme and Sharuhen) emerged in the beginning of the Middle Bronze II, near permanent water sources, followed by clusters of settlements founded along strategically located roads and trade routes (Gihon 1975; Meshel 1977; Cohen 1991). Arrays of permanent settlements were established in the heart of the Besor region plains during three distinct periods: The Iron Age IB (Gazit 1995); The Byzantine period (Gazit 1994); and the turn of the 19th century BCE (Gazit 2000).

1 The spatial approach to the phenomena presented here was formulated during a series of discussions with Ram Gophna in which an attempt was made to delineate the borderline between cultivated land and wilderness in the Besor region from the protohistoric periods to the Late Bronze Age. 2 The isohyet is a line on a map connecting points that receive equal amounts of annual rainfall.

76

dan gazit Survey Maps

The Map of Urim was published as part of the Archaeological Survey of Israel (Gazit 1996). The area surveyed is located in the south of the Besor region, and the aforementioned rainfed agriculture borderline (latitude coordinate 080) demarcates its northern boundary. The survey for the Map of Zexelim area—adjacent to the Map of Urim area from the south—was completed by the end of 2001 and its results have been handed in to the Israel Antiquities Authority for processing and publication (for preliminary reports, see Gazit 1988; 1999; 2002). Combined, the two survey maps create a 200-km2 strip of land, 10 km wide, and 20 km long from north to south: The northern part of this narrow strip lies at the fringes of a climatic zone that enables subsistence on traditional rainfed agriculture during approximately 70% of the rainy seasons (Gazit 1986: 41). The center of the strip overlaps the 200 mm annual average isohyet (latitude coordinate 070), and in the southern border of the strip (latitude coordinate 060) annual average rainfall is approximately 150 mm. This data illustrates a gradual southward decline in annual precipitation of 5 mm per km within the limits of the surveyed area. According to recent data gathered during paleoclimate research carried out in the Negev, there is no substantial difference between present precipitation levels and those of the past three millennia (Goodfriend 1990: 130). The dominant geographic element of the Map of Urim area is a loess-covered plateau: The channel of Na˜al Besor cuts across the length of the western edge of the map and a strip of badlands runs along the eastern bank of the stream. Several springs, located in the channel, are active mostly during wintertime. A topographic rise above the plateau, along the eastern edges of the map, creates a 20 m high geologic terrace. The southern boundary of the map (latitude coordinate 070) is the northern geographic border of the Æalutza sand dunes, which lie at the edge of the North-Sinai Massive (Rosnen 1953), and cover most of the area of the Map of Zexelim (apart from the northeastern corner of the map). The dunes form long, parallel ridges, and valleys of up to hundreds of meters wide stretch between them. Remains from all periods provide proof to human activity that took place at the fringes of these valleys—hunting, animal husbandry, and occasional farming (Gazit 2003). In terms of geography, climate, and settlement, this strip of land, constituting a typical transition zone between the permanent settlements

permanent and temporary settlements

77

to its north and the temporary sites to its south, can serve as an effective paradigm for examining the conduct of a population in relation to the nature of its settlements—from campsites to urban settlements. In order to do so, we will test two settlement arrays that existed within this zone during two periods: the Iron Age IB and the end of the Byzantine period. Iron Age IB There are 36 large Iron Age IB sites3 known in the Besor region: 27 in its south, near Na˜al Besor and on the plains (five of which are in the north of the Æalutza sand dunes); eight sites on Bronze Age tells in the heart of the region; and one site in its north. Approximately one third of the sites is situated in the examined strip of land. These sites are all unfortified. Several points in the badland area of the stream and some close to campfire remains in the south of the region yielded a small number of Iron Age IB sherds.4 The appearance of a dense array of sites is notable in comparison to the sparse settlement pattern of the previous period: Only two small Late Bronze Age unfortified sites have been identified in this area. Gophna was the first to recognize this new settlement wave (Gophna 1961), offering the term ˜aØerim to describe its sites based on the biblical terminology for settlement hierarchy: City, towns (banot), and villages (˜aØerim) (e.g., Josh. 15: 47: “Gaza, with her towns and her villages.”). Gophna, as well as others, believes that the biblical ˜aØerim refers to the lowest ranking settlement in this hierarchy: a small, possibly seasonal, unwalled site. Thorough archaeological excavations have not yet been undertaken in such ˜aØerim, and smallscale probing was conducted only at a small number of sites; thus, the assessment of the nature of these settlements is based chiefly on survey results (Gazit 1986: 111). The results of probing, surveys, and analyses of pottery and settlement distribution lead to the following conclusions (Gazit 1995: 82–88): 3 A large site is defined as one in which remains are spread consecutively over an area of at least 2500 m². 4 For a summary of finds known until 1995, see Gazit 1995. The sites in the Map of Zexelim area will be introduced in the Map of Zexelim survey publication. One of the sites is to be published as part of the Map of Mivta˜im (114), conducted under the supervision of Lehmann (Lehmann forthcoming). Two additional sites were recently discovered as a result of archaeological inspection.

78

dan gazit • All settlements were inhabited for short periods of no longer than a generation. • The time span of the settlement system is estimated at 50–60 years, and its formation was the result of a process of three consecutive steps. • Most of the settlements of the system were abandoned between 1000–990 BCE. • Pottery sherds found at sites located on tells, and at five additional sites on the plain, attest to scanty occupation that continued into the Iron Age II. • The material culture at all sites is notably poor and seems to represents a minimal assemblage required for survival.

Structural remains play a principle role in the description of the character of the sites. Stones suitable for building can only be found on ground surface in the channels of streams that cut through the Besor region (Besor, Gerar, Patish, Ofakim, and Hatzerim), and contours of walls and stone-built installation, made mainly of pebbles, are discernable at sites located near the streams. So far, no structure remains have been detected in surveys of sites located further away from the streams. Only archaeological excavations will reveal whether this was indeed the case, or whether there were mudbrick buildings at these sites, which did not leave traces at surface level. The presence of structures is an important factor in defining the function of a site: Haiman, who conducted several surveys in the Negev Highlands, defines a settlement with no “solid construction of large stones, rectilinear structures and access to water sources” as a “campsite” or a “temporary settlement” (Haiman 1993: 53).5 The southernmost site in the examined strip of land, in which “solid construction” was detected, and which fits Haiman’s definition of a “permanent settlement,” is located on the border between the two survey maps (latitude coordinate 070; Gophna 1966: 44, 47–48). To its south, five sites located in the area of the Map of Zexelim were surveyed, and found to be devoid of structural remains. It was, on the other hand, evident that each site comprised 15–25 densely grouped 5 There is need for further inquiry in order to assess whether or not Haiman’s definition is valid for areas outside the Negev Highlands. Recently, excavations began at an Iron Age IB site near Gilat (directed by P. Nahshoni on behalf of the Israel Antiquities Authority). Until now, densely built stone structures have been unearthed and two cultic vessels found underneath one of the floors.

permanent and temporary settlements

79

tent compounds. Four of the five sites are positioned along an axis that diagonally crosses the map from southeast to northwest; additional sites are located further along the axis, outside the extents of the examined strip. The pottery assemblages of the Map of Zexelim area sites resemble those of the sites of the Map of Urim area, with two variations: In the southern sites there are mostly sherds of cooking-pots and containers ( jars and pithoi); sherds of fine decorated ware are rare. In addition, the assemblages of the Map of Zexelim area sites exhibit handmade Negev Ware, attributed to nomads (Cohen 1979: 47–49); these are nearly absent from the Map of Urim area sites. The Byzantine Period Three vast settlements of urban nature are located in the area of the examined strip—aligned on a north–south axis, in intervals of ca. 5.5 km (30 stadia?).6 The northern border of the strip abuts Æorvat Malta{a, where there are remains of a church, dressed-stone buildings, an artificially depressed open space designed for public gathering, a complex of water-holes, an aqueduct, a water well, remnants of mosaic floors, and a winepress.7 Remains of a cemetery were detected south from Æorvat Maltaxa (Gazit 1996: Sites 18, 22). At the center of the Map of Urim area lies Æorvat Bexer Shema{ (Khirbet el-Far), where remains were found of two churches, a monastery, a fortress, large structures, a theatre (?), water wells, cisterns, and a large winepress.8 South of the site are remains of a cemetery (Gazit and Lender 1993). In the south of the Map of Zexelim area lie the remains of a vast settlement, which are spread over three levels of the naturally terraced banks of Na˜al Besor.9 Remains of impressive stone structures were discovered on the uppermost terrace and burials were detected south of them. Densely constructed stone structures were found on the middle terrace and west of them the remains of a church with a water well next to 6 These settlements include facilities, public buildings, and high-standard water systems, indicating the existence of a tight municipal governing system that is beyond spontaneous development. 7 The site was surveyed a second time by A. Gat during the Map of Patish survey. 8 Further excavations were conducted during summer 2006 by T. Erikson-Gini. 9 On the Map of Zexelim the serial number of the site is 122+129. It is not clear whether the ruins had an Arabic name.

80

dan gazit

it. East of the structures are graves and leveled flowerbeds surrounded by constructed water cannels, and east of the cannels are furnaces. On the bottommost terrace are the remains of a sophisticated water system designed to capture floodwater from the stream. Several farm complexes are scattered in the areas between the three settlements, as well as structures, furnaces, installations, and deposits of pottery sherds dating to the Byzantine period found in connection with capacious campsites and agricultural plots. The settlement in the north of the Map of Zexelim area is located at the edges of the Æalutza sand dunes. During the Byzantine period, there was attested human activity in approximately one third of 400 recorded sites in the part of the Æalutza sand dunes region that lies within the area of the map (Gazit 1999).10 Apart from two stone structures, all of the above-mentioned sites are remains of short-term campsites, located next to campfire remains,11 and containing burnt stone, some flint tools, pottery sherds (mainly body sherds of containers and cooking vessels), and a small amount of stone implements (mallets, grinding stones, and baking stones [tabune]). In most campsites finds point to more than a single period of occupation, and in almost all sites there is indication of Bedouin presence over the last generations (contra Finkelstein and Perevolotsky 1990). Discussion The results of this thorough archaeological survey are exceptional in that they provide us with a view of a climatic transit zone that dictates a pastoralist lifestyle for its population. Did the conduct of the local populations of the two case studies match the accepted scheme? How did the geopolitical background of each period affect this conduct? During the Iron Age IB, there was a vast spread of sites containing stone structures in the north of the examined strip, and in its south there was a band of sites that ran southeast-northwest, where no 10 I am aware of the problems associated with dating the small amount of pottery collected in 7th-century campsites to the end of the Byzantine period or to the beginning of the Islamic period. But in many cases the situation is no different in sites rich in pottery finds, such as the large sites. 11 Clusters of campfire remains attesting to large-community campsites are known during three periods only: the Epipaleolithic period, the Chalcolithic period and the Iron Age IB (as described in the paper).

permanent and temporary settlements

81

structures were detected. The size of both types of sites is similar, and each comprises no more than 25 dwelling units. The pottery that was in use at the sites is neither typically Judean, nor typically Philistine; rather, it demonstrates a synthesis of both influences, and was created at a nearby center of workshops,12 from which the local population purchased it (Gazit 1995). Comparisons between pottery assemblages of the two site types indicate that their inhabitants belonged to the same population; the variances in quantities of different forms of vessels derive strictly from matters of functionality. Rosen’s words can be applied to these differences: “Pottery too can be a characteristic of a temporary settlement, or a nomad site. Pottery assemblages from nomad sites may demonstrate a range of types more limited than assemblages of a rural origin” (Rosen 1998: 34). The sudden appearance of this system of sites in the Besor region, during the second half of the 11th century BCE, and its disappearance after a period of three generations fit well into the political and economic gap that was formed in south Canaan between the final breakdown of the Egyptian administration in the last days of the 20th Dynasty, and the formation of the new ethnic state in the northeast, in the days of Saul and David (Finkelstein 1985: 375). With the retreat of the Egyptian Empire the autochthonic nomadic population assumed its position in the desert trade routes system (Finkelstein 1988), making use of the great innovation of the period—the domestication of the camel. In the southern area of the examined strip, campsites were set up along the trade routes;13 seasonal and permanent settlements founded in its north, which receives more precipitation, specialized in supplying food for the merchant caravans. The system collapsed—perhaps violently (1 Sam. 14: 47–48)—when a new polity with aspirations to control the desert routes entered the arena and closed the existing political gap. The collapse of the Iron Age IB settlement system is clearly apparent from the archaeological evidence: Iron Age II pottery was found in meager quantities in a handful of sites located in the north of the examined strip; its paucity is evident in the southern area of the strip as well. The traditional pastoralist balance seems to have been regained.

This center was probably located at Tel Haror (Oren et al. 1991). This axis originates in the southeast, along Upper Na˜al Shunra, in a path that bypasses Æalutza. 12 13

82

dan gazit

All settled parts of Palestine in the Byzantine period were organized in “municipal areas” and “royal estates” in order to enable tax collection and control (Avi-Yonah 1979: 127). In the framework of this administrative division, the three largest settlements in the examined strip were included in the Gerar Estate (Saltus Gerariticus), located on the border between two provinces: Palaestina Prima and Palaestina Tersiasive Salutaris (Avi-Yonah 1979: 125, 148). In addition to the integration of these settlements and their surroundings into the governing and economy systems of the province, being a border zone, the entire area was treated in a special manner, receiving support from both the imperial military system and from the Church (Dan 1982: 290, 408–416; Rubin 1990: 54). The short distance (13 km, a half-day walk) between the southernmost settlement in the examined strip and the large settlement near Æalutza,14 and the location of both on the fringes of the sands area, indicate an economic, cultic, and anthropologic systematic connection between them. The strip thus becomes a link between the settlement complex of the northern Negev Highlands and the harbors of the Gaza region—the destination of the desert trade routes (Gazit 2001) and the starting point of several Christian pilgrim roads to Sinai (Mayerson 1987: 37). Clear evidence of the special technological relations between the northern sites and the Besor region sites was recently revealed through the Map of Patish survey:15 a winepress, similar to the public winepresses unique to the northern Negev Highlands (Mazor 1981), was surveyed In Khirbet {Irq (Gazit 1994: 173). The campsites between the large sites and in nearby stretches of sand were an integral part of the complex socioeconomic system of the northern Negev during the Byzantine period (Gazit 1996: 16*). Pottery that was in use at these campsites is similar to that created in the adjacent permanent settlements (Tubb 1986) and they should be seen as pastoralist extensions of those settlements, or as an independent nomadic system, socially and economically linked to them (Rubin 1990: 128–131). Either way, a mosaic floor in the church of St. Stephens 14 Æalutza is the most northwestern of seven large Byzantine period settlements located in the northern Negev Highlands, and also the largest. During part of the period, Æalutza functioned as the capital of the provincia. 15 I wish to express my gratitude to Amnon Gat for granting permission to his make note of his discovery here. During renewed excavations at Æorvat Bexer Shema{, directed by T. Erikson-Gini, on behalf of the Israel Antiquities Authority, another winepress was discovered. Its architectural elements are identical to those of the press found near Æalutza.

permanent and temporary settlements

83

in Bexer Shema, located in the heart of the examined area, serves an exceptional testimony to these relations (Gazit and Lender 1993). The mosaic presents a harmonious array of churchgoers; dark skinned Africans, farmers, caravan leaders, cattle breeders, and shepherds. Summary The definition of a transition zone between the area in which rainfed agriculture is possible during most years and the desert and pasture area, in which the population depends on cattle breeding, is a geographic one rather than an anthropological one. The conduct of the population pertaining to the nature of its dwelling (temporary camps, permanent camps, seasonal settlements, and permanent settlements) is not spontaneous. The political system in which a community operates, and the given economic constraints and temptations, plays a crucial role affecting decisions it makes concerning types of settlement. During the Iron Age IB, there was a shift in preference: from settlement dictated by the potential of territories to serve as pastureland to settlement dictated by the existence of trade routes. During the Byzantine period, state systems possessed complete territorial control of both cultivated and wilderness territories, making the best of both socioeconomic systems.

84

dan gazit References

Avi-Yonah, M. 1979. The Holy Land, a Historical Geography. Michigan. Cohen, R. 1979. The Israelite Fortresses in the Negev Highlands. Qadmoniot 46–47: 38–50 (Hebrew). ——. 1991. The Ancient Roads from Petra to Gaza in Light of the New Discoveries. In: Orion, E. and Eini, Y., eds. The Spice Roads. Sde Boker: 28–77 (Hebrew). Dan, Y. 1982. The Land of Israel in the Fifth and Sixth Centuries: The Byzantine Administration in the Land of Israel. In: Baras, Z., Safrai, S., Stern, M., and Tsafrir, Y., eds. The Land of Israel, from the Destruction of the Second Temple to the Muslim Occupation. Vol. A. Jerusalem: 265–299, 387–418 (Hebrew). Finkelstein, I. 1985. The ‘Fortresses’ of the Negev Highlands during the Iron Age— Settlement Sites of the Desert Nomads. EI 18: 366–379 (Hebrew). ——. 1988. Arabian Trade and Socio-political Conditions in the Negev in the Twelfth– Eleventh Centuries BCE. JNES 47: 241–252. Finkelstein, I. and Perevolotsky, A. 1990. Processes of Sedentarization and Nomadization in the History of Sinai and the Negev. BASOR 279: 67–88. Gazit, D. 1986. The Besor Region. Tel Aviv (Hebrew). ——. 1994. The Besor Region in the Byzantine Period, Man and Environment. Ariel 100/1: 172–178 (Hebrew). ——. 1995. The Besor Region in the Iron Age I according to Analysis of the Pottery from Stratum VIII at Tel Sera{ (M.A. thesis, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv (Hebrew). ——. 1996. Map of Urim (125) (Archaeological Survey of Israel). Jerusalem. ——. 1998. Survey of Prehistoric Sites near Zexelim. In: Rosen, S., ed. The Annual Convention of the Prehistoric Society, Abstracts, Ben Gurion University. Beer Sheva: 2 (Hebrew). ——. 1999. Map of Zexelim, Survey. ESI 110: 99*. ——. 2000. Sedentary Processes in the Besor Region at the Age of the Sultan Abdelhamid II. In: Gradus, Y., Meital, Y., and Zexevi, D., eds. Ottoman Beer Sheva Centenary, Book of Abstracts, Ben Gurion University. Beer Sheva: 12. ——. 2001. Planar Geometry. Eretz VaTeva 71: 64–66 (Hebrew). ——. 2002. Campsites at the Æalutza Sands—Land Occupation Strategy. In: Rosen, S., ed. The Annual Convention of the Prehistoric Society, Abstracts, Ben Gurion University. Beer Sheva: 12 (Hebrew). ——. 2003. The Halutza Sands Getting Their Drift. Eretz Magazine 86: 16–17. Gazit, D. and Lender, Y. 1993. The Church of St. Stephen at Horvat Bexer-Shema{. In: Tsafrir, Y., ed. Ancient Churches Revealed. Jerusalem: 273–276. Gihon, M. 1975. The Limes Sites of the Negev. EI 12: 149–166 (Hebrew). Goodfriend, G. 1990. Studies in Stable Isotopes for the Reconstruction of the Paleoclimate of the Negev during the Late Quaternary. Qadmoniot 91–92: 129–130 (Hebrew). Gophna, R. 1961. On the Development of Pottery Forms during the End of the Iron Age I in Pleshet and in the Judean Shephela (M.A. thesis, Hebrew University). Jerusalem (Hebrew). ——. 1966. The “ÆaØerim” in Southern Pleshet during the Iron Age I. {Atiqot 3: 44–51 (Hebrew). Haiman, M. 1993. Ancient Settlement Patterns in the Negev Highlands—Analysis of the Finds of the Emergency Survey in the Negev 1979–1989 (Ph.D. dissertation, Hebrew University). Jerusalem (Hebrew). Lehmann, G. forthcoming. Map of Mivta˜im (114) (Archaeological Survey of Israel). Jerusalem. Mayerson, P. 1987. Palaestina Tertia—Pilgrims and Urbanization. Cathedra 45: 19–40 (Hebrew).

permanent and temporary settlements

85

Mazor, G. 1981. The Wine-Presses of the Negev. Qadmoniot 53–54: 51–60 (Hebrew). Meshel, Z. 1977. The Negev during the Persian Period. Cathedra 4: 43–50 (Hebrew). Oren, E., Yekutieli, Y., Nahshoni, P., and Feinstein, R. 1991. Tel Haror—After Six Seasons. Qadmoniot 93–94: 2–19 (Hebrew). Rosen, S. A. 1998. The Archaeology of Pastoral Nomadism, Aspects of the Archaeological Finds. In: Ahituv, S., ed. Studies in Nomadic Archaeology in the Negev and in Sinai. Beer Sheva: 27–41 (Hebrew). Rosnen, N. 1953. Directions of the Sief Sands and the Wind Direction in Sinai and in the Negev. EI 2: 78–81 (Hebrew). Rubin, R. 1990. The Negev as Settled Land, Urbanization and Settlement in the Desert in the Byzantine Period. Jerusalem (Hebrew). Shachar, A. et al., eds. 1995. The New Atlas of Israel. Tel Aviv (Hebrew). Tubb, J. N. 1986. The Pottery from a Byzantine Well near Tell Fara. PEQ 118: 51–65.

THE SOCIOECONOMIC IMPLICATIONS OF GRAIN STORAGE IN EARLY IRON AGE CANAAN: THE CASE OF TEL DAN David Ilan The way people store their yields in traditional agricultural societies can be an important indicator of social and economic organization. The starting point for the following study was Israel Finkelstein’s discussion of pits and grain storage in his classic work The Archaeology of the Israelite Settlement (Finkelstein 1988: 264–269). Having additionally benefited from Israel’s careful guidance as my dissertation advisor, it is with great pleasure that I contribute this study to a festschrift in his honour. Concerning Pits Iron Age I remains were found in all excavation areas at Tel Dan (Fig. 1). All the Iron Age I levels contained pits—more in Stratum VI (Fig. 2), less in Stratum V (Fig. 3) and even less in Stratum IVB (Ilan 1999: Plan 6). The pits of Iron Age I Tel Dan—their construction, distribution, and their contents—allow us to arrive at a number of historical and socioeconomic inferences. The first step is to establish a hypothetical framework that will enable us to invalidate or substantiate various interpretive options. People dig pits for a number of reasons and several hypotheses can be forwarded for the function of pits in the Iron Age I context (Currid and Navon 1989 and further literature there). Of course, a given pit may have been subject to more than one use. Below are several possible pit functions and expectations for evidence that might support each interpretation: Grain storage: For the most part pits are considered grain-storage facilities. In Borowski’s typology of grain-storage facilities those most commonly found in Iron Age I contexts are “grain pits,” while only the much larger (and by inference, public) storage facilities like the famous

88

david ilan

example at Megiddo Stratum III receive the appellation “silo” (Lamon and Shipton 1939: 66–68; Borowski 1987: 72). Borowski’s definitions are adopted here. Given ethnographic and literary evidence such pits are usually identified as grain pits. However, carbonized grain in the requisite quantities has been found (and reported) at only a few Iron Age I sites: Shiloh Stratum V, Silos 1400 and 1462, Tell Keisan Stratum 9a (probably coeval with Dan Stratum IVB), and Aphek Stratum 8 (the later being an early Iron Age IIA context, coeval with Dan Stratum IVA) (Kislev 1980; 1993: 354; Lederman and Finkelstein 1993: 47–48; Gadot 2003: 80–82). Despite the dearth of unequivocal evidence, I accept the grain-pit interpretation as the likely one for most, though perhaps not all pits, at all periods. Subfloor Storage of Other Commodities: Many commodities would not have left obvious traces. It is documented, for example, that pits are often used to store fodder and make silage (Reynolds 1979: 77–79; Finkelstein 1986: 126 and references there). Perhaps phytolithic analysis can detect high proportions of fodder plants, but I know of no investigation yet carried out in the Levant with this goal in mind. In the making of silage, residues of lactic acid might form, which could be detected if looked for (Reynolds 1979: 78). Otherwise, one has no expectation of fodder plants being preserved in the archaeological record and an empty pit is to be expected. Other possibilities are salted meat (for which chemical analysis of side or base material could detect higher salt levels than is normal), short-term water storage (of which no signs will remain except for basal sedimentation that cannot be differentiated from post-use water-deposited silting).1 Storage of Household Items (pottery in particular, while the owner is absent): In this case, one would expect to find assemblages that are restorable, if broken, into complete objects, with no missing parts. Moreover, it seems unlikely that more than two or three pits for this purpose per extended household would be found. Rubbish Disposal: This was certainly the final use of some of the Iron Age I pits at Tel Dan, and a few at Shechem, Aphek, and Sasa (see

1 These are just some examples; for others, see Finkelstein 1986: 79; Currid and Navon 1989: 70–71.

the case of tel dan

89

below). The large quantities of pottery and animal bones attest to this, as does the variety of vessels represented among the sherds.2 But quantities and typological variety are not enough. The key to identifying rubbish-disposal pits is that the sherds they contain can be joined to sherds found on floors, benches, and fills above them. Intact pits that contain large sherds that join to form incomplete vessels are an even better indication. However, the investment in the regular shape and stone lining of some of these pits suggests that their original, primary purpose was something other than sumps or garbage receptacles. Composting: One would be hard pressed to demonstrate such a use since the pit would be empty with the lapse of time. Perhaps one should search for a thin black line of organic material at the bottom of the pit similar to what is left when contaminated grain decays. Ritual Use ( favissa, bothros, or biblical xob): In this case one might expect a standardized repertoire of objects and materials left as offerings. This may take the form of organic materials that leave little or no discernible traces.3 One would also expect them to be concentrated in places imbued with cultic or spiritual meaning, rather than being widely distributed. Such places may have some surface manifestation of ritual activity as well. The archaeological and textual evidence for cultic pits associated with such phenomena is prodigious.4 I concur with the opinion that most of the pits in the Iron Age I levels at Tel Dan are grain pits (Finkelstein 1988: 102, 266–267). Though instances where such constructions actually contain grain are confined to the few examples cited above, the construction technique, the ethnographic record, and the fact that they are often empty but sometimes contain a secondary deposit of rubbish, all point to their probable first use as grain pits. The discussion below proceeds under this assumption. Synthetic treatments of Iron Age I archaeology unanimously consider the plethora of pits that agglomerate in excavated sites a hallmark of

Cf. Finkelstein 1996: 127. Indeed, this would most often be the case, if the ancient texts are any indication; see Hoffner 1967. 4 For archaeological manifestations see, for example, Ilan 1991 and references there. For textual references, including the Hebrew Bible, see Hoffner 1967 and references there. 2 3

90

david ilan

the material culture of the period (e.g., Finkelstein 1988: 264–269; Mazar 1992: 289; Rosen 1994: 343–344; Bloch-Smith and Alpert Nakhai 1999: 75–76). The large number of pits excavated in successive Iron Age I contexts at Tel Dan were done so with a relatively high degree of stratigraphic control. This supplies a good opportunity for diachronic analysis that is matched perhaps only by {Izbet Âartah and Tell Beit Mirsim (Finkelstein 1986; Greenberg 1987).5 Pit Construction The great majority of pits at Tel Dan are cylinder shaped (Figs. 2, 4, 5) while a very few are beehive shaped (Fig. 6); sometimes, when the top has been lopped off, it is hard to know which is which. Some pits are stone lined but most are not. None showed unequivocal evidence of firing (a means of fumigation); though many contained ash that could be interpreted as such (Currid and Navon 1989: 75). Those that are not stone lined are usually inserted down into the hard-packed pebble fill of the Late Bronze Age (Fig. 5), which must have served the same purpose as the stone lining. When this fill was missing, a stone lining was provided—a sort of patch, as it were (Fig. 4). The stone lining is generally considered a means of isolating the contents of the pit or silo from the soil beyond, particularly in defense of rodents and insects. If not of stone, the lining may originally have been of basketry or mud plaster, sometimes fired hard, but these may not be detected by the excavator (Currid and Navon 1989: 70; Reynolds 1979: 72–76). When stone-lined and intact, pits are fairly easy to detect. At Tel Dan the lower sections of most pits in Area B-west were easily discerned because they were inserted into the hard-packed Late Bronze pebble layer (Fig. 5). Often, however, the upper sections were not so easy to make out and it is now clear that in several cases material from a pit was excavated together with material from an earlier floor or debris level. Particularly when empty, or if their contents have burned away in conflagration, the upper sections tend to collapse inward, mixing pottery from different contexts.

5 The Iron Age I context with the greatest number of pits uncovered thus far (a total of 198) is Tell en-Na‘beh Stratum IV. However, the diachronic aspect is less clear (Zorn 1993: 103–113).

the case of tel dan

91

It is not clear how the pits were sealed in the period of their initial use. Ethnographic and other archaeological data indicate that a variety of capping techniques could be used: animal dung, clay and stones, or a combination of these (Currid and Navon 1989: 70, 72). But since all of the pits seem to have been emptied of their original contents, either by natural or human agents, we would not expect to find the sealing intact unless it is a feature, often a surface, of the following occupation. Pit Contents and Their Implications Many pits contain almost nothing aside from fill, and some of that comes from the penetrated earlier layers. At least nine Stratum VI pits contained no Iron Age I pottery whatsoever, only sherds dating to the Late Bronze Age or earlier from the sides and bases of the pits. The few pits of Strata V and IVB always contained at least some Iron Age I pottery, though Late Bronze ceramics can make up the majority, since here too, Late Bronze levels were penetrated. Some pits however, did contain complete, restorable pottery vessels, and large quantities of animal bones and destruction debris. Tel Dan is one of only a few Iron Age I sites where this is so (Fig. 4). The others that I have located are Hazor, Aphek (Stratum X8), Shechem, and Sasa (L5) (Ben-Ami 2001; Gadot 2003; Currid and Navon 1989: 69–70; Golani and Yogev 1996; respectively). It has been suggested that such finds represent rubbish rather than the original intended use of the pits (Finkelstein 1988: 267; Currid and Navon 1989: 71). As it turns out, this hunch is correct, but it must be proven and explained, as I do below for Tel Dan. In many cases at Tel Dan, pottery from pits could be restored with pottery from surfaces.6 While most of the debris was discarded into the pits, some fragments were missed and ended up on floors, benches, and other features of the subsequent occupation. This implies that the material in the pits is refuse from cleared floors. Why were the floors cleared rather than the debris being simply leveled down and built upon? The answer is probably twofold: The inhabitants wished to reuse their old architecture as much as possible, so they cleared the destruction debris out. They also wished to build over areas that had once been

6

For detailed contexts, see Ilan 1999.

92

david ilan

densely arrayed with grain pits (Area B-west [Fig. 2] and Area M). For both these reasons the builders cleared the debris from the destroyed houses and filled in the troublesome pits, which must have been empty and visible, to provide a level surface for planned construction.7 The fact that so few pits contained household rubbish can be correlated to the sparseness of Stratum VI architecture; most of the pits were simply filled with soil and outdoor rubbish. It is also conceivable, though difficult to demonstrate at this point, that the open, pit-bearing areas were left neglected for some period of time. In this case, the “primary” and “secondary” infilling mechanisms described by Schiffer (1987: 218–220) would apply. In any event, a major implication is that the inhabitants no longer wished to make use of the pits—at least not these. How did the grain pits get empty enough (down to their bases) until it was possible to fill them with what are clearly the fractured contents of living floors? Were their contents first emptied en masse and the erstwhile pits left open? One possible explanation is that the grain had already been consumed entirely, perhaps in time of famine. It does not seem likely that the grain contents burned in conflagration since no recognizable quantities of carbonized grain were discerned (when the contents of a full grain pit burn, a certain portion at the core will be preserved in carbonized form [Zohary and Hopf 1994: 3–4]). Moreover, would not at least several pits have been forgotten or otherwise preserved with their contents intact? It is only fair at this juncture to remark that the excavation techniques used at Tel Dan were not as precise as one might desire, especially in the retrospective light of the questions raised here. Flotation was carried out in only a few cases and sealing materials, wall linings, and basal matter were not sampled for phytolithic or other microanalysis. This remains a project for the future. Intrasite Spatial and Temporal Distribution of Pits The ratio of pits to excavated area in Stratum VI (45: 975 m2, Fig. 2) is similar to that encountered at {Izbet Âartah Stratum II (43: 1275 m2) and Hazor Strata XI–XII (ca. 70 pits in an area of ca. 1000 m2), the

7 Another factor to keep in mind is that a series of terraces was constructed on the inner slopes of Tel Dan (which has a crater-like shape) in what appears to have been a unified preparation for house construction.

the case of tel dan

93

sites and horizons with the densest array of pits reported until now (Finkelstein 1986; Ben-Ami 2001: 151–156). The Tel Dan ratios break down by area as follows: Table 1. Numbers of pits relative to excavated area in Stratum VI and Stratum V Area

Stratum VI

Excavated area (m2)

Stratum V

Excavated area (m2)

B-east B-west H M Y

4 28 1 7 5

350 475 30 65 55

1 3 0? 0 0

400 550 30 85 70

Totals

45

975

4

1135

In Areas B-west and M there are many more pits relative to their excavated areas than there are in the other areas. Unlike Areas Y, B-east, and perhaps T, the former areas also display little or no architecture in Stratum VI. It therefore seems likely that Finkelstein is correct in asserting that Area B-west was a sector devoted to grain storage in Stratum VI—a sort of subsurface granary (Finkelstein 1988: 266)—much like the grain-pit fields of {Izbet Âartah, Hazor, and Tel Zeror. Plainly, these underground granaries were all outdoors. Very few of the pits at Dan overlap or disturb each other. In fact, a number are placed abutting each other, almost in rows (this is mainly true of Area B-west [Fig. 2]; cf. Shiloh Stratum V [Lederman and Finkelstein 1993: 46–48]). The implication is that they were largely contemporaneous and were somehow marked.8 Because there are so many pits that appear to be at least partly contemporaneous, logic also dictates that they may have been labeled with additional information—date of harvest, which commodity is contained (wheat, barely, or other), which is reserved for seed, and perhaps the family to which the pit belonged.

8 Currid and Navon (1989: 68) note that the Bedouin of the southern Shephelah identified their grain pits by stone markers.

94

david ilan The Implications of Grain Pits for Production and Social Organization

The analysis of Iron Age I social structure and the architectural layout at Tel Dan lead us to expect that certain grain pits belonged to certain families (batei av in the biblical parlance [Stager 1985]). By “families” do we mean multiple-family, extended, or nuclear households, and on what level within the family was storage organized? The dense agglomerations of pits in Area B-west (and those from {Izbet Âartah Stratum II, for example), suggest that storage was organized by multiple-family households, and perhaps even by patrilineal clans that occupied a segment or neighborhood of the settlement (Gottwald 1979: 316). One would also expect that a given family’s holdings would be well-defined and recognized by the inhabitants of the settlement. The question is how these holdings were defined and whether it is possible to identify them in the archaeological record. When primordial Iron Age I levels are excavated and their layouts distinguished, the hypothetical holdings of compounds can be inferred because household units are individuated. Such might be the case at Giloh or {Izbet Âartah, for example (Mazar 1981; Finkelstein 1986). With regard to the Tel Dan pits, however, the difficulty in isolating Stratum VI dwelling units from within the Stratum V agglomeration makes it hard to assign a particular array of grain pits to a particular structure or complex. Finkelstein attempted to estimate the number of grain pits per dunam, the total number of grain pits, and the total tonnage of grain harvested by the inhabitants of {Izbet Âartah (Finkelstein 1986: 127–128). Such calculations presuppose: (a) an average distribution of pits throughout the site, similar to that of the excavated areas. However, as noted above, Finkelstein himself has suggested that many sites may have specific areas designated for grain storage; (b) a fixed measure of the pits’ contemporaneity, ignoring the probability that at a given point in time only a portion of the pits were in use; (c) that all the pits were used to store grain. While Rosen (1986: 172–173) did try to establish statistical limits to reduce the element of uncertainty in the above {Izbet Âartah calculations, there remain many unknown values. Such calculations may be useful as a heuristic device, but their accuracy is questionable.

the case of tel dan

95

Throughout, Tel Dan Stratum VI has many more pits than do the two later Iron Age I strata, both in absolute numbers and relative to the extent of excavation (Table 1). Surely, this trend should be understood as reflecting social and economic change. Most Iron Age I sites lack both the diachronic resolution and aerial extent of the Tel Dan excavations, and this bears directly on the question of economic processes reflected by grain-pit distribution. Aside from Tel Dan, only {Izbet Âartah shows a clear process of changing priorities: Stratum III has a few pits (7), Stratum II many (43), and Stratum I, once again, few (10).9 I feel these patterns can be explained by a combination of demographics and security concerns (elaborated below). Why Did Iron Age I Inhabitants Store Grain in Pits? Most of the few detailed studies of Iron Age I pits have focused on determining their use and on their storage efficacy. The question of why pits, rather than other means, were chosen to store grain in this period has been touched upon, but not sufficiently. There can be no doubt that stone-lined, plastered, and sealed pits are an efficient means of storing grain and other perishable produce (e.g., Reynolds 1979: 71–82; Currid and Navon 1989; Rosen 1994: 344; and references in these). In Finkelstein’s view pit-digging is a “characteristic feature of populations in the process of sedentarization or of rural communities [my italics]” (Finkelstein 1986: 126 and see references there). In the context of his hypothesis that the settlement process was primarily an outcome of sedentarizing nomads,10 his emphasis was on the first part of the statement—that concerning settling nomads. While there is logic in this, the second part of the hypothesis deserves equal attention. Pit construction has been equally prevalent amongst farmers with long

9 These numbers assume that Finkelstein’s stratigraphic attributions for the grain pits are correct. The great majority are sited in an open area between the large central structure and the outer band of buildings (Finkelstein 1986: Figs. 3–5). Finkelstein’s criterion for assigning them to Stratum II is that they lack a light-colored brick debris that filled most of the Stratum III grain pits—not a criterion that inspires certainty. Many could be either Stratum III or Stratum I grain pits or belong to any combination of strata. 10 Revised to some degree to include population elements with other origins in Finkelstein and Naxaman 1994: 13.

96

david ilan

traditions of permanent residence and land ownership both in Palestine and without, in ancient times and until the not-very-distant past (see references to Hyde et al. 1973 and Ilan 1974 in Finkelstein 1986: 127; Currid and Navon 1989). Apparently, it was not a common practice either before or after the Iron Age I, that is, in the Late Bronze Age or during the Iron Age II.11 Rosen has remarked that grain pits were constructed “to the very minimum,” that is, so as to expend the least effort for the most benefit (Rosen 1994: 344). He called this “‘value engineering’—calculated and conscious saving in building activity.” Larger, above-ground facilities, he reasons, are characteristic of periods of sophisticated, more complex administration. But it would be easier and equally efficient to store grain in pithoi, (indeed, this is probably what happened in Tel Dan Stratum V), or in jars, such as have been found in 10th-century-BCE Æorbat Rosh Zayit (Gal and Alexandre 2000: 21–22; Kislev and Melamed 2000). There is perhaps another correlate of complex, sophisticated administration that may better explain the use of the grain pit when such an administration does not exist or is perceived to be hostile. One of the primary reasons grain is stored in subterranean facilities is to hide it—from robbers, the government tax collector, or from other enemies (see, e.g., references in Currid and Navon 1989: notes 2, 3). Indeed, the Bible refers to grain storage mainly in metaphors of insecurity and refuge ( Jer. 41: 8; 2 Sam. 17: 15–20; Judg. 6: 1–4). The Egyptians often timed military campaigns with the harvest and in the Late Bronze Age at least, local farmers were obliged to provide the Egyptian garrisons and functionaries with grain (Redford 1992: 211, citing Sethe 1907: 719). We have noted that grain pits were probably marked, but they can be quickly “unmarked” and therefore safeguarded. Even if some of the grain pits were uncovered and their contents taken by an adversary, other pits would go undetected and thus, unplundered. Hence, subterranean grain storage was a matter of expediency rather than the ideal method. One imagines that some grain pits were sited purposely in even more obscure, more distant locations, just-in-case. The Iron Age I is documented as a period of social and political turbulence; this, it can be asserted, is an important reason for subterranean storage.

11 Multiple grain pits found in the recent excavations at the Iron Age II site of Mo·a require that this statement be moderated somewhat (De-Groot and Greenhut 2005).

the case of tel dan

97

Although it is true that pits are found in Iron Age I “settlement” sites from the northern Negev to the Upper Galilee, more are made where there is soil underfoot. Where the site is founded at or near bedrock, there are usually few or none, particularly if the bedrock is hard limestone or dolomite rather than chalk. This is clear from Finkelstein’s survey of pits in Iron Age I sites (Finkelstein 1986: 124–128).12 The depth of a pit may also have been affected by the depth of soil above bedrock; Finkelstein suggests, for example, that the {Izbet Âartah Stratum II pits were shallow and more numerous than at other sites for this reason (ibid.: 127). Rock-hewn pits are found at Beer-sheba (attributed to Stratum IX) and at Tell el-Ful (Lapp 1981: 56–62; Herzog 1984: 8–11, 70), but it is usually difficult to date and assign a function to rock-cut features. Why did the inhabitants not make larger grain pits? After all, each family, whether a nuclear, extended, or multiple-family household, must have harvested much more than the contents of a single grain pit. The answer is probably that grain keeps best when undisturbed, and a household will consume only so much grain at a time. A larger silo would mean more grain exposed to moisture, blight, and vermin for a longer time. Thus, the volume of a grain pit, which is surprisingly uniform across the country (generally averaging 1.8–2.5 m3), was calculated by experience to match a given rate of consumption.13 Once a grain pit was opened, its contents were removed in their entirety and stored short-term in bins or jars—also vermin proof—located inside the home.14 It is also likely that the use of smaller but more numerous pits was a means of reducing risk of spoilage: If a small pit is penetrated by moisture or vermin, or spoiled by bacterial or fungal activity, only a small quantity is lost.

12 Chalk would have been a positive byproduct for enhancing agricultural yields and for lime plaster. At Tell en-Na‘beh however, with the largest number of Iron Age I grain pits excavated anywhere, they were hewn into limestone bedrock (Zorn 1993: 104–105), perhaps an indication of insecurity. 13 cf. Zorn 1993: 104–105 concerning the averages and variation of capacity at Tell en-Na‘beh. 14 And from that point on, see Rosen 1994: 343.

98

david ilan Why Grain Pits Went Out of Vogue

In some locations, pits may never have been hewn to begin with, particularly where a settlement was established directly on hard, karstic bedrock. The sites of the Upper Galilee Highlands show relatively few pits. In these places we may hypothesize that pithoi may have been used (although I do not know of an Iron Age I pithos containing charred grain). Finkelstein has asserted that settlements with small numbers of pits could not have produced the quantities of grain sufficient for subsistence and must therefore have depended on exchange with better grain-producing areas to make up the difference (Finkelstein 1988: 269). But the presence or absence of pits (“silos”) cannot be the criterion, by itself, for such a judgment.15 It is almost certain that grain pits (and pits with other functions) went out of use from time to time. By way of example, Reynolds gives the following explanation for a farmer abandoning his pit: Apart from ritual reasons which we shall never be able to establish by excavation, the only possible cause for abandoning a pit is the farmer’s reaction to failure. When the stored grain is affected by water, the effects are remarkable. The fungal and bacterial infestation can cause strange and weird colourations, such as shiny reds, dull browns and violent greens. Faced with such a prospect, which is not enhanced by the accompanying ill odour, no farmer could be blamed for digging a new pit and abandoning the old to the evil spirits. Yet there is nothing wrong at all with the pit itself, only with the stored grain. One experiment in operation at present is to monitor its disintegration. Ultimately, the grain should rot down to nothing more than a thin black layer. Such layers have been recorded but never analysed. (Reynolds 1979: 76)

This one example illustrates how individual pits might remain unused, visible, and empty, while others were filled. In fact, the whole process of grain pits going out of style was probably a gradual one. Pits did continue to be used, and even to be dug, in Strata V and IVB at Tel Dan. The same holds true for {Izbet Âartah Stratum I. The process of pits going out of vogue may be reconstructed in three stages:

15 Carrying-capacity analysis is a better tool and its results depend on how much of the slopes were terraced—almost impossible to gauge at this stage.

the case of tel dan

99

1. Political stability increased and security conditions improved. These allowed the consideration of other storage methods that were less arduous (i.e. better “value engineered,” to quote Rosen [1994: 344]) and less prone to spoilage, spontaneous combustion, misplacement, and theft. 2. Under these new conditions, and given the disadvantages of underground storage, it was found preferable to store grain in pithoi and jars, of which there are prodigious numbers in Stratum V. For one thing, perhaps grain was now more frequently transported as an exchanged commodity and better access was required. And perhaps, there developed a problem in keeping track of grain pits in a larger, more densely populated and builtup settlement. Perhaps too, the number of vermin expanded with increased population density and pithoi were deemed better protection against pests. Moreover, as suggested above, perhaps problems with high groundwater, poor winter drainage, and pit plugs being removed by rainfall and runoff made it much more sensible to store grain above ground, in sealed pithoi, under a roof; that is, as soon as you were not afraid of someone taking your stores. 3. At some point, probably well-advanced by the destruction of Stratum IVB, beit av economics (the domestic mode of production) were gradually supplanted by an increasing centralization of production and storage. Perhaps central storage facilities were established (real “silos” in Borowski’s terminology [Borowski 1987: 72]) in lieu of erstwhile household facilities. There is only negative evidence for this at Tel Dan; in Stratum IVB the numbers of pithoi (and pits) are much lower than in Stratum V. It is hard to imagine that yields were significantly less, or that all the grain was stored in storage jars, of which there are many, but not substantially more than in Stratum V. Part of the grain may have been stored in above-ground facilities that belonged to individual households—those chambers without doorways (see below). Other portions may have been going to a central storage place or facility, such as those located in contemporaneous and slightly later contexts (e.g., Tel Hadar Stratum IV, Horbat Rosh Zayit) (Kochavi 1998; Gal and Alexandre 2000), though none has been found yet at Dan. We can summarize the change in grain storage techniques with the following diagram:

100 Stratum VI Stratum V Stratum IVB

david ilan > many grain pits and some pithoi > many pithoi, few pits and bins > large above-ground household silos, few pits and bins, few pithoi

A similar scenario for diachronic changes in methods of grain storage, albeit better documented in all its stages, has been reported at Early Bronze Age Arad (Amiran and Ilan 1996: 145–147). Pithoi and Their Distribution In Stratum V pithoi were generally found propped up against walls (Fig. 7) and, lacking evidence to the contrary, we can only presume that the same would have been true for Stratum VI—even in the unlikely event that the walls were made of reeds.16 The pits of Stratum VI contain both classic collared-rim and “Galilean” pithoi, fragmentary and complete, in approximately equal numbers.17 But they seem to occur in segregated groups and are not often mixed as whole vessels. Where more than one pithos occurs in a room or pit, the types almost always group together: either “Galilean” pithoi (Fig. 8) or collared-rim pithoi (Fig. 9). This may be an indication of commodity separation and identification, or perhaps it is a question of cultural preference, a point that is dealt with elsewhere (Ilan 1999: 81–85). Silos No feature could be identified unequivocally as a large, central grain storage facility like that of Tel Hadar Stratum IV or Megiddo Stratum III. One of the characteristics of such facilities is a lack of doorways; if anything, smaller openings are the rule. One chamber in Tel Dan Stratum IVB—Locus 605 in Squares B –C/19–20—was a small, completely closed-off room, 1.8 × 2 m in size. No carbonized grain Cf. Geva 1984. In at least two cases, however, in Stratum VI (Area B-west L7140 and L7183), pithoi were deeply sunk into the ground (when pithoi are sunk they are clearly in situ). 17 For the different types, see Biran 1989; Ilan 1999. 16

the case of tel dan

101

was noted by the excavators, but it is hard to come up with another explanation. In any event, Stratum IVB is the first Iron Age I context where such a closed chamber was encountered, and this at a time when other bulk storage features (pits, pithoi, and bins) were much fewer than in the previous two strata. The circumstantial evidence points to concentrated bulk storage taking place in locations other than where it had been focused before. Bins or Troughs In several places, semi-circular bins were found built up against walls (e.g., Square U18, L4710 in Fig. 10). Obviously, these represent ground floor installations; since they would not have been found intact had they collapsed from an upper floor. Perhaps the best explanation for them is that they were animal feed troughs (Stager 1985: 13–15). At least one also had a large stone basin next to it (again, in Area B-west, L4710). However, they also had the capacity to contain a complete vessel or two: a cooking-pot in Area Y, L3175 and a storage jar in Area B-west, L4710. Hence they may also have served as temporary, ad hoc storage. Summary and Conclusions The storage facilities of Iron Age I Tel Dan underwent marked change from the early part of the period (Stratum VI) to its late part (Stratum IVB). This change is a clear indication of socioeconomic and political change at the site and in the region as a whole. Bulk storage in the early phase (Stratum VI) was characterized by a combination of pit and pithos containers, prevalent throughout the site, but with pit concentrations in open areas. In Stratum V pithoi occur in large numbers while pits seem to have been limited to one per household. In both of the above phases above-floor bins and troughs occur in households as well. In the last phase (Stratum IVB) pits continued to be confined to one per household, but pithoi too are few—again: one or two per household. Bins and troughs are apparently also markedly less frequent. I have suggested that the storage of grain in pits was initially and primarily a function of poor security, not simply a matter of efficacy.

102

david ilan

When security improved, most grain storage was transferred to aboveground containers, perhaps mainly pithoi. In the final Iron Age I stage of Tel Dan, Stratum IVB, grain storage and livestock appear to have been concentrated elsewhere, not in private homes. This is held to indicate increasing centralization of economic and political control.

the case of tel dan

103

References Amiran, R. and Ilan, O. 1996. Early Arad II. Jerusalem. Ben-Ami, D. 2001. The Iron I at Tel Hazor in Light of the Renewed Excavations. IEJ 51: 148–170. Biran, A. 1989. The Collared-Rim Jars and the Settlement of the Tribe of Dan. In: Gitin, S. and Dever, W. G., eds. Recent Excavations in Israel: Studies in Iron Age Archaeology (AASOR 49) Winona Lake, IA: 71–96. Bloch-Smith, E. and Alpert Nakhai, B. 1999. A Landscape Comes to Life: The Iron Age I. Near Eastern Archaeology 62: 62–92, 101–127. Borowski, O. 1987. Agriculture in Iron Age Israel. Winona Lake, IA. Currid, J. D. and Navon, A. 1989. Iron Age Pits and the Lahav (Tell Halif ) Grain Storage Project. BASOR 273: 67–78. De-Groot, A. and Greenhut, Z. 2005. Mo·a, 2041-A. Hadashot Arkheologiyot 117: 83. Finkelstein, I. 1986. {Izbet Âartah: An Early Iron Age Site near Rosh Ha{ayin, Israel (BAR International Series 299). Oxford. ——. 1988. The Archaeology of the Israelite Settlement. Jerusalem. Finkelstein, I. and Naxaman, N. 1994. Introduction. In: Finkelstein, I. and Naxaman, N., eds. From Nomadism to Monarchy: Archaeological and Historical Aspects of Early Israel. Jerusalem: 9–17. Gadot, Y. 2003. Continuity and Change: Cultural Processes in the Late Bronze and Early Iron Ages in Israel’s Central Coastal Plain (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv (Hebrew). Gal, Z. and Alexandre, Y. 2000. Horbat Rosh Zayit: An Iron Age Storage Fort and Village (IAA Reports 8). Jerusalem. Geva, S. 1984. The Settlement Pattern of Hazor Stratum XII. EI 17: 158–161 (Hebrew). Golani, A. and Yogev, O. 1996. The 1980 Excavations at Tel Sasa. {Atiqot 28: 41–58. Gottwald, N. K. 1979. The Tribes of Yahweh. New York. Greenberg, R. 1987. New Light on the Early Iron Age at Tell Beit Mirsim. BASOR 265: 55–80. Herzog, Z. 1984. Beer-Sheba II: The Early Iron Age Settlements (Publications of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 7). Tel Aviv. Hoffner, H. 1967. Second Millennium Antecedents to the Hebrew xOb. JBL 86: 385–401. Hyde, M. B., Baker, A. A., Ross, A. C., and Lopez, C. O. 1973. Airtight Grain Storage (Agricultural Services Bulletin No. 17). Rome. Ilan, D. 1991. A Middle Bronze Age Offering from Tel Dan and the Politics of Cultic Gifting. Tel Aviv 19: 247–266. ——. 1999. Northeastern Israel in the Iron Age I: Cultural, Socioeconomic and Political Perspectives (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. Ilan, S. 1974. The Traditional Arab Agriculture, Its Methods and Its Relationship to the Palestinian Landscape during the End of the Ottoman Period (M.A. thesis, Hebrew University). Jerusalem. Kislev, M. 1980. Contenu d’un silo a blé de l’époque du fer ancient. In: Briend, J. and Humbert, J.-H. Tell Keisan, 1971–976: Une cité phénicienne en Galilée. Fribourg and Paris: 361–379. ——. 1993. Food Remains. In: Finkelstein, I., Bunimovitz, S., and Lederman, Z. Shiloh: The Archaeology of a Biblical Site (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 10). Tel Aviv. Kislev, M. E. and Melamed, Y. 2000. Ancient Infested Wheat and Horsebean from Horbat Rosh Zayit. In: Gal, Z. and Alexandre, Y. Horbat Rosh Zayit: An Iron Age Storage Fort and Village (IAA Reports 8). Jerusalem: 206–220.

104

david ilan

Kochavi, M. 1998. The Eleventh Century BCE Tripartite Pillar Building at Tel Hadar. In: Gitin, S., Mazar, A., and Stern, E., eds. Mediterranean Peoples in Transition: Thirteenth to Tenth Centuries BCE. Jerusalem: 468–478. Lamon, R. S. and Shipton, G. 1939. Megiddo I: Seasons of 1925–34, Strata I–V (Oriental Institute Publications 42). Chicago. Lapp, N. L., ed. 1981. The Third Campaign at Tell el-Ful: The Excavations of 1964 (AASOR 45). Cambridge, MA. Lederman, Z. and Finkelstein, I. 1993. Area D: Middle Bronze Age Stone and Earth Works, Late Bronze Age Dumped Debris and Iron Age I Silos. In: Finkelstein, I., Bunimovitz, S., and Lederman, Z. Shiloh: The Archaeology of a Biblical Site (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 10). Tel Aviv: 35–48. Mazar, A. 1981. Giloh: An Early Israelite Settlement Site near Jerusalem. IEJ 31: 1–36. ——. 1992. The Iron Age I. In: Ben-Tor, A., ed. The Archaeology of Ancient Israel. New Haven and London: 258–301. Redford, D. B. 1992. Egypt, Canaan and Israel in Ancient Times. Princeton. Reynolds, P. J. 1979. Iron Age Farm: The Butser Experiment. London. Rosen, B. 1986. Subsistence Economy of Stratum II, In: Finkelstein, I. {Izbet Âartah: An Early Iron Age Site near Rosh Ha{ayin, Israel (BAR International Series 299). Oxford: 156–185. ——. 1994. Subsistence Economy in the Iron I. In: Finkelstein, I. and Naxaman, N., eds. From Nomadism to Monarchy: Archaeological and Historical Aspects of Early Israel. Jerusalem: 339–351. Schiffer, M. B. 1987. Formation Processes of the Archaeological Record. Albequerque. Sethe, K. 1907 (republished 1984). Urkunden der 18. Dynastie, Text der Hefte 9–12 (Urkunden des Agyptisches Altertums IV). Berlin. Stager, L. 1985. The Archaeology of the Family in Ancient Israel. BASOR 260: 1–35. Zohary, D. and Hopf, M. 1994. Domestication of Plants in the Old World (2nd ed.). Oxford. Zorn, J. R. 1993. Tell en-Na‘beh: A Re-evaluation of the Architecture and Stratigraphy of the Early Bronze Age, Iron Age and Later Periods (Ph.D. dissertation, University of California at Berkeley). Berkeley.

A RE-ANALYSIS OF THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE FOR THE BEGINNING OF THE IRON AGE I* Yitzhak Meitlis How do archaeologists determine the end of one period and the beginning of another? Do cultural entities and chronologies necessarily coincide? We assume that major changes in pottery forms, settlement patterns, architecture, burial customs, and diet mark the beginning of a new period—a new chronological entity. However, when several new forms first appear at a time that otherwise exhibits continuity of material culture, we call the period “transitional” and postulate cultural overlap. The Late Bronze—Iron Age I transition is a classic case in point, as Kempinski has previously noted (Kempinski 1985: 399–407). In a series of papers written over the last two decades, Finkelstein suggests lowering the onset of Iron Age I (e.g., Finkelstein 1988: 109; 1995). He deals mostly with the lowlands and with the interaction between the Philistines, Canaanites, and Egyptians, living in the Coastal Plain and the Shephelah. In this paper I will reexamine the chronology of the highlands through concurrence of different pottery types, and conclude that the beginning of Iron Age I should, in fact, be dated earlier than commonly accepted. My first argument concerns the collared-rim jars, usually associated with the Iron Age I, that have been found in assemblages otherwise typical of the Late Bronze Age, e.g., at Aphek,1 Tel Nami,2 and Mana˜at.3

* I am grateful to David Ilan for his significant contribution and helpful advice throughout the preparation of the manuscript. 1 At Aphek, near Rosh ha-{Ayin, collared-rim jars were found in a stratum that is Canaanite in character and dated to the 13th century BCE; see, for example, Kochavi 1981. 2 At Tel Nami a collared-rim jar was found together with Canaanite vessels dated to the 13th century BCE (Artzi 1990). 3 In Area 1000 at Mana˜at collared-rim jars with reed impressions on their rims were found. These are known to us from various sites in the highlands, such as Shiloh. At the same building 19th-Dynasty scarabs were also found, as well as a Canaanite cooking-pot (Edelstein et al. 1998).

106

yitzhak meitlis

Subsequently, Mycenaean and Cypriot vessels typical of the Late Bronze Age have been found at central highlands sites assigned to the Iron Age I. Mycenaean vessels are the main chronological anchor for the Late Bronze Age. When found in Iron Age I contexts, and when no Late Bronze architecture is discerned, this Late Bronze material is assumed to be residual or not in situ (see below). I propose here that the Iron Age I pottery and Late Bronze pottery are contemporaneous. The following is a list of sites in which finds attributed to the Late Bronze were found in Iron Age I contexts, lacking stratigraphic or architectural associations. Mount Ebal Mount Ebal is one of the most outstanding Iron Age I sites. While there is an argument over its nature (Kempinski 1986; Naxaman 1986; Zertal 1986–1987: 137; Coogen 1987), all are in agreement about it being a single-period site of this period. Two small Mycenaean vessel fragments were found, both in Stratum II: One is part of a jar or amphoriskos slipped and burnished with a light-brown decoration while the second has a lateral dimension of only 3 mm. Both were classified by the excavator as Mycenaean IIIB–C. Other Late Bronze types found are a bi-conical jar, particularly widespread during the 14th century BCE, as well as two bowls, and a chalice, both typical of the 13th century BCE. In addition, two scarab seals attributed to the reign of Ramesses II were found (Zertal 1986–1987: 137). Since there was no Late Bronze stratum in this isolated site and none in its vicinity, it must be concluded that it existed during the 13th century BCE. Tell en-NaÉbeh Late Bronze vessels were found at this site, also dated to the Iron Age. McCown notes Cypriot sherds (1947: 180), but unfortunately they are not included in the report on the pottery. Nonetheless, the pottery report does present local wares typical of the Late Bronze Age, such as a dipper juglet (Wampler 1947: Pl. 40: 756), a cooking-pot (ibid.: Pl. 46: 979), and carinated bowls (ibid.: Pl. 53: 1156, 1163).

a re-analysis of the archaeological evidence

107

Beth-Zur In the Iron Age I assemblages from various areas, locally manufactured Late Bronze pottery, Mycenaean and Cypriot vessels, and scarab seals attributed to Ramesses II were found (Sellers 1933: 33, Fig. 26; Funk 1968: 36). In the 1933 excavation report Sellers emphasizes that there was no Late Bronze settlement in the excavated areas, and notes, for example, the Ramesses II scarab seal found in Locus 90 (Sellers 1933: Fig. 51)—a clear Iron Age I context. In the 1968 report as well, an Iron Age I storehouse is noted, in which no Late Bronze finds occurred, with the exception of two late Mycenaean vessels. The excavator wrote: “We may be certain that there was no Late Bronze occupation of the excavated area” (Sellers 1933: 35). Tel Sasa A refuse pit unearthed during the 1980 excavations at Tel Sasa, in the Upper Galilee, contained animal bones and Iron Age I sherds. The main assemblage consisted of 17 pithoi, among them “Galilean” pithoi and “Tyrian” pithoi (Golani and Yogev 1996). The combination of these two types of pithoi led Finkelstein to date this stage to the end of the 12th or the onset of the 11th century BCE (Finkelstein 1988: 109–110). But in the 1993 excavations at the same site, Y. Stepansky found Late Bronze vessels together with Iron Age I cooking-pots and collared-rim jars in the same stratum, representing a destruction layer. The dating of the destruction on the basis of three 14C tests of roof beams yielded from this layer produced a chronological range spanning the end of the 13th and the beginning of the 12th centuries BCE (Stepansky et al. 1996). These tests are in line with the presence of Late Bronze vessels found at the site, and indicate the existence of settlement during the Iron Age I, in the 13th century BCE.4

4 See the analysis of the excavation that was made by Ilan (1999). He also emphasizes that “it is significant that there are at least two Iron Age I architectural phases after the one dated radiometrically” (ibid.: 175–184).

108

yitzhak meitlis

Available data clearly indicate the presence of vessels of a new type, concentrated primarily in the highlands, by the 13th century BCE, while Late Bronze culture carried on uninterrupted. Up until this point we have discussed the coexistence of Iron Age I and Late Bronze material from the 13th century BCE (see also Wengrow 1996). However, the Iron Age I type pottery may date even to as early as the 14th century BCE. The best evidence for this has been found at Shiloh, one of the largest excavated Iron Age I sites in the central highlands. Shiloh Aharoni, Fritz, and Kempinski suggested that the onset of Iron Age I be dated to the 14th century BCE (Aharoni et al. 1975), noting that the excavations of the Danish expedition at Shiloh uncovered Late Bronze vessels in Iron Age I assemblages (Buhl and Holm-Nielsen 1969: 34–35, 60). Following later excavations conducted by the Bar-Ilan University Expedition, under the direction of I. Finkelstein, the excavator concluded that this Late Bronze pottery originated in a separate Late Bronze stratum, rather than in the Iron Age settlement. The Late Bronze finds are concentrated in Area D (Finkelstein et al. 1993). A large number of sherds of local and imported vessels were found in this area, some intentionally buried together with ash and animal bones, but no building remains from this period were discerned. According to the excavator, there must have been a cult place at Shiloh, but its location is unknown because of later construction that covers the central part of the tell. A careful examination of the loci lists shows that some of the Mycenaean and Cypriot vessels characteristic of the 14th century BCE were found in clean Iron Age I loci in Area D and also in Areas C and J (Bunimovitz and Finkelstein 1993).5 Bunimovitz notes that the local pottery, most of which was found in Area D, continues Middle Bronze traditions and should be dated to Late Bronze Age I. However, some of the imported Cypriot wares as well as the Mycenaean vessels are later, and dated to Late Bronze Age II (14th century BCE) (Bunimovitz and Finkelstein 1993: 129–136). No obvious Late Bronze

5 Other Mycenaean and Cypriot vessels were found in loci defined by the excavators as mixed (Bunimovitz and Finkelstein 1993).

a re-analysis of the archaeological evidence

109

I imports, such as White-Slip I ware, were found. The Cypriot pottery includes White-Slip II bowls, Monochrome bowls, Base-Ring I vessels, and Red Lustrous Wheelmade ware. The Mycenaean pottery includes only four sherds, which appear to be parts of a small piriform jar or possibly a piriform stirrup jar, and a small body sherd that may have belonged to a small pyxis. All these sherds date to Mycenaean IIIA: 2; this would imply that the Mycenaean and Cypriot imports are later than the local vessels (For the date of Cypriot vessels, see Eriksson 2001). Since the differential dating above is illogical, we may conclude that the local Iron Age I pottery was coeval with the Mycenaean and Cypriot imports. It may still be maintained that one cannot learn about an entire region from a single site. However, another site, Tell Qiri in the Jezreel Valley, demonstrates a similar pattern. Tell Qiri Tell Qiri shows that the presence of imports dating to the 14th century BCE in Iron Age I loci is not an anomaly. No Late Bronze settlement strata were found at Tell Qiri; however, Late Bronze vessels dating to the end of the 15th and to the first half of the 14th centuries were found in various loci in Strata IX–VIII, which date to the Iron Age I. The excavators found it difficult to explain this phenomenon, particularly in such cases where luxury vessels, such as Mycenaean and Cypriot vessels, as well as those of alabaster and faience, were involved. They offered two possible explanations: Either the architectural traces of the Late Bronze Age have disappeared, or the vessels were brought from a nearby site. But concluding the discussion of this matter, they admit that it is “difficult to offer a convincing explanation for this occurrence” (Ben-Tor and Portugali 1987: 257–258). Conclusions For the most part, the lack of Late Bronze architectural remains at the sites under discussion has been attributed to poor preservation or destruction. But another option exists: The combined data from the above-mentioned sites indicates that over a long period of time Late Bronze pottery—imported wares being the most conspicuous—and

110

yitzhak meitlis

Iron Age I pottery coexisted.6 The only reasonable conclusion is that the earliest appearance of the vessels typical of the Iron Age in the central highlands occurred in the 14th century BCE. This conclusion may be supported by the 14C tests of carbonized wood from Strata VI and V at Tel Dan, which are dated by the excavator to the Iron Age I. Of the 28 samples tested at the Groningen laboratory, four were dated with a high degree of probability to the 14th century BCE and eight more to the first half of the 13th century BCE (Ilan 1999: 138–144). I am aware of the fact that it is problematic to date archaeological evidences on the basis of samples taken from beams of wood, and that short-lived samples provide more accurate results, but these results cannot be ignored. This explanation may also clarify a notable phenomenon in the excavations at Tel Taanach, where it is evident that the Late Bronze settlement was destroyed in the 15th century BCE and renewed only at the onset of the Iron Age I. Nevertheless, the excavators note the discovery at the site of Mycenaean IIIA: 2 vessels (dating to the 14th century BCE). They offer no explanation for the occurrence of imported pottery at a site, which in their view, was abandoned during the same period the pottery is ascribed to (Glock 1993). If we accept the approach that Iron Age I vessels appear as early as the 14th century BCE, we can attribute the Mycenaean wares to the Iron Age I strata. The major changes in material culture characteristic of the Iron Age I, such as small settlements with four-room houses, grain-storage pits, and new pottery types, first occurred in the highlands, away from the traditional urban centers. Although these changes reflect cultural differences, the occurrence of “Late Bronze” pottery and other objects in “Iron Age I” contexts highlights the fact that isolation between the two sociocultural entities was not total. The debate over the reasons for the rise of a new culture in the highland region is beyond the scope of the present paper. Be the explanations as they may, I suggest that these processes began at an earlier phase than has been posited in the past, and continued for a much longer period than has been suggested.

6 The possibility of local Late Bronze I vessels found at Shiloh reflecting activity earlier than the Iron Age I is not to be ruled out.

a re-analysis of the archaeological evidence

111

References Aharoni, Y., Fritz, V., and Kempinski, A. 1975. Excavations at Tel Masos (Khirbet elMeshash): Preliminary Report on the Second Season, 1974. Tel Aviv 2: 97–124. Artzi, M. 1990. Nami Land and Sea Project. IEJ 40: 73–76. Ben-Tor, A. and Portugali, Y. 1987. Tell Qiri, A Village in the Jezreel Valley: Report of the Archaeological Excavations 1975–1977 (Qedem 24). Jerusalem. Buhl, M. L. and Holm-Nielsen, S. 1969. Shiloh. Copenhagen. Bunimovitz, S. and Finkelstein, I. 1993. Pottery. In: Finkelstein, I., Bunimovitz, S., and Lederman, Z. Shiloh: The Archaeology of a Biblical Site (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 10). Tel Aviv: 81–196. Coogen, M. D. 1987. Of Cults and Cultures: Reflections on the Interpretations of Archaeological Evidence. PEQ 119: 1–8. Edelstein, G., Milevski, I., and Aurant, S. 1998. Villages, Terraces and Stone Mounds: Excavations at Mana˜at, Jerusalem 1987–1989 (IAA Reports 3). Jerusalem. Eriksson, K. O. 2001. Cypriot Ceramics in Egypt during the Reign of Thutmosis III: The Evidence of Trade for Synchronizing the Late Cypriot Cultural Sequence with Egypt at the Beginning of the Late Bronze Age. In: Åström, P., ed. The Chronology of Base-Ring Ware and Bichrome Wheel-Made Ware: Proceedings of a Colloquium Held in the Royal Academy: Letters, History and Antiquities, Stockholm May 18–19, 2000. Stockholm: 51–68. Finkelstein, I. 1988. The Archaeology of the Israelite Settlement. Jerusalem. Finkelstein, I., Bunimovitz, S., and Lederman, Z. 1993. Shiloh: The Archaeology of a Biblical Site (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 10). Tel Aviv. Finkelstein, I. 1995. The Date of the Settlement of the Philistines in Canaan. Tel Aviv 22: 213–239. ——. 1996. The Archaeology of the United Monarchy: An Alternative View. Levant 28: 177–187. Funk, R. W. 1968. The Bronze Age—Iron I Pottery. In: Sellers, O. R., Funk, R. W., McKenzie, J. L., Lapp, P., and Lapp, N. The 1957 Excavations at Beth-Zur (AASOR 38). Cambridge, MA: 35–53. Glock, A. E. 1993. Taanach, NEAEHL 4. Jerusalem: 1428–1433. Golani, A. and Yogev, O. 1996. The 1980 Excavations at Tel Sasa. {Atiqot 28: 41–58. Ilan, D. 1999. Northeastern Israel in the Iron Age I: Cultural, Socioeconomic and Political Perspectives (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. Kempinski, A. 1985. The Overlap of Cultures at the End of the Late Bronze Age and the Beginning of the Iron Age. EI 18 (Nahman Avigad Vol.): 399–407 (Hebrew). ——. 1986. “Joshua’s Altar”: An Iron Age I Watchtower. Biblical Archaeology Review 12/1: 42–49. Kochavi, M. 1981. The History and Archaeology of Aphek-Antipatris: A Biblical City in the Sharon Plain. BA 44: 75–86. McCown, C. C. 1947. Tell en-NaÉbeh I: Archaeological and Historical Results. Berkeley and New Haven. Naxaman, N. 1986. Migdal-Shechem and the ‘House of El-Berith’. Zion 51: 259–280 (Hebrew). Sellers, O. R. 1993. The Citadel of Beth-Zur. Philadelphia. Stepansky, Y., Segal, D., and Carmi, I. 1996. The 1993 Sounding at Tel Sasa: Excavation Report and Radiometric Dating. {Atiqot 28: 63–76. Wampler, J. C. 1947. Tell en-NaÉbeh II: The Pottery. Berkeley and New Haven. Wengrow, D. 1996. Egyptian Taskmasters and Heavy Burdens: Highland Exploitation and the Collared-Rim Pithos of the Bronze/Iron Age Levant. Oxford Journal of Archaeology 15/1: 307–326. Zertal, A. 1986–1987. An Early Iron Age Cultic Site on Mount Ebal: Excavation Seasons 1982–1987. Tel Aviv 13–14: 105–165.

REASSESSING THE BRONZE AND IRON AGE ECONOMY: SHEEP AND GOAT HUSBANDRY IN THE SOUTHERN LEVANT AS A MODEL CASE STUDY Aharon Sasson The first article by Israel Finkelstein I had the pleasure of reading was The Iron Age “Fortresses” of the Negev (Finkelstein 1984). As a young student I was impressed by such a well-articulated paper and during the following year I enrolled in all courses taught by Professor Finkelstein. Since then I have been fortunate to have him as my mentor while writing papers submitted in the course of undergraduate (B.A.) and graduate studies (M.A. and Ph.D.). Before becoming the chief architect of the current chonological debate, Finkelstein was already motivating students like myself to investigate socioeconomic processes utilizing an anthropological approach. His skillful scholarship, his integrity, and his love of Israel remain sources of inspiration. Introduction Caprine (sheep and goats) have predominated livestock herds in most sites in the Levant from the time of their domestication until premodern times (Sasson 1998: 3–51; Buitenhuis 1990: 198–199; O’Connor 2000: 151). The aim of this paper is to reassess economic strategies practiced in Bronze and Iron Age sites as revealed by zooarchaeological finds of sheep and goats. Animal bones are, in most cases, the second most common find in archaeological sites. Relative frequency of species and their mortality profile reflect the economy of ancient sites and, furthermore, point to the subsistence strategy of their inhabitants (Hesse 2003; Crabtree 1990). Many scholars have discussed the economy of the Bronze and Iron Ages in the southern Levant. It is frequently argued by archaeologists and zooarchaeologists that caprine and their products were traded as part of the prevalent market economy of the Bronze and Iron Ages

114

aharon sasson

(Wapnish and Hesse 1991: 34; Dever 1992: 89; Holladay 1995: 392; Hesse and Wapnish 2001: 253–258; Finkelstein and Silberman 2001: 115–118). This implies that sheep and goats were bred for self-consumption and as market-oriented products. Grigson, for instance, in her review of the early economy, proclaims that “the extent to which animals are used for the direct subsistence of the communities which own them or as segments of exchange systems with other communities, particularly urban ones, is likely to be of increasing relevance within the context of the proto-urban and early urban societies that characterize the Chalcolithic and Early Bronze Age periods” (Grigson 1995: 248). Fall et al. in their discussion of the economy of two Bronze Age sites in the Jordan Valley state that “several clear trends of enhanced production of marketable commodities (especially olive oil, bread wheat, and sheep wool) suggest that the farmers of Tell el-Hayyat increasingly adapted their crop cultivation and animal management to meet the demands of emerging mercantile exchange and consumption in Middle Bronze Age towns and cities” (Fall et al. 1998: 120). Herzog advocated the idea that when farmers produced more than they consumed, creating surplus, they directed it to the improvement of standards of life (i.e. prosperity): “It would be more realistic to assume that such farmers, when blessed with plentiful harvests, would like to improve their own standard of living and therefore invest in more comfortable housing, better working tools, new clothing, rare prestige items or simply consume more food” (Herzog 1997: 9). The subject of surplus in ancient economies should be elucidated. Surplus need not necessarily be associated with market economy, trade, or wealth. The immediate goal of an ordinary household for accumulating stock could have been providing security and coping with environmental fluctuations and other unexpected hazards (Ingold 1980: 134; Halstead 1993: 63–64). In other words, surplus of animals and animal products was produced not necessarily as a commodity designated for “export” to the market or for gaining wealth. Sometimes the surplus was banked and at other times it was exchanged to maintain the limited demands of the domestic group. Polanyi referred to non-profit exchange meaning that people did not make a living from profit derived from buying and selling; namely “risk-free trading” or “nonmarket trade” (Polanyi 1957a: 19; see also 1957b: 250–255). A different point of view of the ancient economy, based on the zooarchaeological record, will consequently be presented. The term economic strategy rather than merely economy will be applied to describe

reassessing the bronze and iron age economy

115

a long-term, planned economy that effected all aspects of life of ancient households. The analysis of zooarchaeological results derived from 68 sites and strata in Israel and Jordan points to a different economic strategy. This will be referred to as the survival subsistence strategy. My hypothesis is that the chief goal of a household in the Bronze and Iron Ages was primarily survival. This stands in contrast with the market economy strategy that could be described as a specialized economy aiming at surplus production in order to expand flock size or territory, and perhaps to attain wealth or political power additionally. The immediate goal of the survival subsistence strategy, would have been to preserve flock and territorial size at an optimum level in order to maintain the household requirements but not beyond that point (Ingold 1980: 134). This strategy was employed because scarcity, not surplus, played a central role in antiquity (Halstead and O’shea 1989: 6). The mechanism for coping with scarcity included maximizing subsistence security while reducing risks and minimizing fluctuations in the resource base ( Jochim 1981: 91; Redding 1993: 80). According to Jongman and Dekker, in the preindustrial world stable income was preferable to an income that was highly variable but with identical mean. They explain the logic in risk avoidance and note that the distress of losing a hundred pounds that are spent on luxury is far less than the distress of losing the last one hundred pounds necessary for physical survival. Therefore, the pain of losing one hundred pounds (or one hundred caprine heads, in our case) is larger than the satisfaction of gaining them. According to Jongman and Dekker, the majority of the population in the preindustrial world lived very near subsistence level ( Jongman and Dekker 1989: 116–117). Binford described the survival subsistence strategy in these words: “Humans tend to organize their labor and their activities in a way that reduces the risk associated with accessing critical resources, and they tend to organize into cooperative social units in order to minimize any uncertainty associated with the dynamics of their social and ecological environments” (Binford 2001: 193). The premise presented in this paper is that the majority of the Bronze and Iron Age population (nomadic, rural, and urban) maintained a survival subsistence strategy, which included applying long-term planning, minimization of risks and fluctuations, and optimal yet controlled utilizations of resources (e.g., water, pasture, and livestock). Their focus was on preserving their subsistence resources in order to sustain their overall survival. This hypothesis was tested through quantitative analysis of faunal remains from archaeological sites. Since zooarchaeological

116

aharon sasson

finds are found in sedentary sites for the most part the discussion focuses on sedentary population. Two parameters related to caprine were tested: The ratio between sheep and goat bones, and the production and utilization of caprine products (meat, milk, and wool).1 Research Data and Methods The relative percentage of sheep in a caprine herd and data regarding mortality profiles and caprine products were derived from 68 sites and strata (Table 1, Fig. 1). The majority of sites date to the Bronze and Iron Ages. Sites dating to the Persian, Roman, and Islamic periods were also included in the analysis to broaden the spectrum of sites examined. 1. The sites are located in various geographical regions in Israel: the Galilee, the northern valleys, the Central Hill, the Coastal Plain, the Shephelah, the northern Negev, and the southern Negev (Fig. 2). The diverse zooarchaeological results from Tell Hesban, located on the desert fringe in Jordan (Fig. 1), were included in the analysis too (LaBianca 1995b; Ray 2001). 2. The frequency of sheep was derived (in percentage) by dividing the NISP2 values for sheep bones by the total NISP values of identified sheep and goat bones. For instance, if the bone assemblage at a certain site comprised 60 identified sheep bones and 40 goat bones, the percentage of sheep for this site would be calculated at 60%. 3. Ethnographic data on the relative frequency of livestock in premodern times was included in the quantitative analysis. The data was retrieved from: a. an animal census carried out in 1943 by the British Mandatory Government of Palestine (Table 2) (Government of Palestine 1943; see also Sasson 2006). Statistics regarding the frequency of sheep in four districts were combined in the quantitative analysis; Sefad District, representing the Galilee region, Hebron District, representing the central hill region and the districts of

The ratio of caprine to cattle is discussed in Sasson 2005a. Number of Identified Specimens. For discussion on this counting method, see Reitz and Wing 1999: 191–194. 1 2

reassessing the bronze and iron age economy

117

Gaza and Lod, representing the Coastal Plain and Shephelah regions (Fig. 1); b. an animal census carried out by LaBianca’s team at the village of Hesban in Jordan in 1970 (LaBianca 1995b). The figures derived from both censuses are numbers of animals and not of bones. The Sheep/Goat Ratio It is not surprising that sheep and goats were bred and exploited in a mixed herd by most pastoralists. Two major advantages may be pointed out for mixed herds: (a) Sheep and goats are able to exploit different portions of the same pasture area: While sheep normally graze, goats normally browse. Consequently, the herders attain efficient utilization of their limited grazing resources (Tchernov and Horwitz 1990: 207–208; Dahl and Hjort 1976: 251); (b) Mixed herds reduce the risk of overall loss through disease (Smith 1978: 85; Redding 1984: 234; Halstead 1996). Both advantages, optimal utilization of subsistence resources and risk minimization, relate directly to the survival subsistence strategy. The question arising is whether one should expect a particular ratio between these two species and what the implications of such a ratio would be. Redding addressed this issue (Redding 1984) and suggested possible goals for sheep/goat herding that included maximizing energy (calories) or protein intake (through their products; i.e. meat and milk), and herd security. He argued that if the goal of subsistence herding was energy (or protein), and since the reproduction rate of goats is higher than that of sheep, the expected ratio between sheep and goats would be 5: 1 (i.e. 83% sheep in a mixed herd) (ibid.: 233–234). On the other hand, if the main goal is security and minimizing fluctuations in herd size, the sheep/goat ratio should be as close as possible to 1: 1. However, because of the aforementioned difference in reproduction rate, the expected ratio is between 1: 1 and 1: 1.7 (50 to 63% sheep in a mixed herd).3 Redding concluded that “the goal of subsistence

3

For growth rates of sheep and goats, see Dahl and Hjort 1976.

118

aharon sasson

herding in the Middle East was probably not energy or protein, but herd security” (Redding 1984: 239). Before testing Redding’s theory, one should discuss the unique attributes for each species. Besides their higher reproduction rate, goats are remarkably adaptive to harsh climates. Their panting rate (respiratory cooling) is only about half of that of sheep. Furthermore, their sweating is limited, and their water loss through feces and urine is low as well. Goats can function even after losing 30% of their body weight, while a 15% weight loss is considered lethal for most other mammals (Swift 1973: 73; Clutton-Brock 1987: 57; Shkolnik 1988: 487–496). In addition, their dark coat allows them to cope successfully with cold weather and reduction in metabolic rates (Finch et al. 1980). What made sheep favorable in the ancient world was, in my opinion, primarily their wool. Although sheep’s meat and milk is richer in fat and proteins compared to goats (Sasson 2006: Table 1), had wool not been a prime raw material for fibers, the relative number of sheep per household unit would have been smaller. McCorriston stressed the fact that flax plants were domesticated earlier than sheep and that linen was the primary textile fiber at that time; wool replaced linen as the main textile fiber after the domestication of sheep (McCorriston 1997: 518). She also noted that producing fiber of wool was more efficient than linen fiber production. Cultivating and processing of flax for fiber require prime agricultural land, frequent watering, and high labor inputs. Fewer herders could tend more sheep for a greater fiber volume than could be generated by the same people growing flax (ibid.: 522–525). According to Ryder, after sheep were domesticated they outweighed goats in caprine herds, by virtue of its wool (Ryder 1993: 10). Many scholars have stressed the value of sheep for textile manufacturing. Killen discussed this in regard to Late Bronze Age Mycenaean texts (Killen 1993: 209–218), and King and Stager stated that wool was a major class fiber in the ancient Near East and that sheep were raised primarily for their wool (King and Stager 2001: 113, 147; see also Shamir 2002: 21). The significance of sheep for wool production in Mesopotamia was discussed by Van De Mieroop (1993: 165), Adams (1981: 149–150), Sherratt (1981: 282–283), and Stepien (1996: 40–48). Ochsenschlager (2004: 203) provided a similar observation from premodern Iraq. Sherrat suggested that wool was introduced to North-Central Europe in the mid-3rd millennium and was used in conjunction with linen until it became the dominant textile fiber during the second millennium (Sherratt 1983: 93; see also Ryder 1984: 79–81; Davis 1987: 186). In conclusion, although goats

reassessing the bronze and iron age economy

119

did not produce wool, they were favored for their survival adaptations; sheep were favored for their wool despite their relative vulnerability to environmental stress. Breeding both species in mixed herds attained these two attributes in addition to others that were mentioned above. This leads us back to the question: How are economic strategies reflected in the ratio between sheep and goats? Sheep/Goat Ratio: Results Numerous zooarchaeological reports were examined; however, data on the sheep/goat ratio could be derived from merely 57 sites and strata (Fig. 1). In 76% of the sites and strata that were reviewed the relative frequency of sheep bones (out of sheep and goats) did not exceed 67% (Table 1). The pattern observed in various sites indicates that caprine herd management was a planned strategy, which focused on herd security and risk minimization, as Redding had pointed out (Redding 1984). Modifying Redding’s model we may establish the following equation: If energy and wool production were the main goals of early herders, one would expect to find 100% sheep; however, if security was the goal, the herd would consist of 100% goats. The rationale behind a mixed herd of approximately two-thirds sheep and one-third goats was gaining satisfactory wool production on one hand and maintaining herd security on the other hand. Tchernov and Horwitz (1990: 212) concluded that a regional pattern in the sheep/goat ratio can be detected and that the frequency of goat bones increased from northern to southern regions in Israel (see also Horwitz and Tchernov 1989). Their argument should be reevaluated, especially in light of the fact that it was established on a significantly small sample of only five sites. In this study sheep frequency from 57 sites and strata was tested statistically against three variants: settlement type (urban or rural); geographical location; and the combination of both. The questions addressed were whether we could observe a higher proportion of sheep in urban sites governed by ruling classes (Hopkins 1996: 128; Herzog 1997: 13; LaBianca 1999: 21), in view of the political power wielded through control over natural resources such as water and pasturelands. Furthermore, could a regional pattern in the relative frequency of sheep, as that advocated by Horwitz and Tchernov, be supported?

120

aharon sasson

The statistical test (two-way ANOVA) was carried out on arcsin √p, where p stands for the sheep proportion at the site (in order to reach a normal division). To conduct the test, I joined the site of Tell Hesban ( Jordan) together with the northern Negev sites. In addition, the low land regions—the Shephelah, the Coastal Plain and the northern valleys sites—were treated as one geographical region (Figs. 1, 2). No significant difference was found between sheep proportion and settlement type ( p = 0.825) nor between sheep proportion and geographical region ( p = 0.925). Likewise, no interaction was found between sheep proportion, settlement type, and geographical location ( p = 0.148). This clearly indicates that a regional pattern related to sheep/goat ratio cannot be traced. Likewise, no pattern regarding the type of settlement is evident; a significant number of sites comprising mixed caprine herds, of which approximately two-thirds were sheep, is observed in rural as well as urban sites. A study of the enumeration of livestock carried out by the British Mandatory government of Palestine in 1943 (Government of Palestine, 1943) reveals noteworthy statistics (Table 2).4 Sheep comprised only 39% of the 700,000 caprine heads counted in Mandatory Palestine. Hirsch reported similar statistics from an animal census carried out in 1930, where sheep comprised 36% of all caprine (Hirsch 1933: 7). Furthermore, a regional pattern in the sheep/goat ratio can be detected: In the mountainous districts (Galilee, Samaria, and Jerusalem; see Fig. 2) the frequency of sheep is significantly lower (33–40%) compared to the Coastal Plain region (Lydda district, 58%). These data can be interpreted in light of the survival subsistence strategy. Low proportion of sheep in most regions is observed after wool lost its significance for textile manufacturing being displaced by cotton and other modern substitutes following the industrial revolution (Donnell 1872: 7; Jacobson and Smith 2001: 41–44). Wool having been removed from the equation, herd security became the primary strategy. Consequently, a higher frequency of goats was obtained in caprine herds. Nevertheless, a higher proportion of sheep was observed in the lowlands. The reason for this is that the carrying capacity in Israel (i.e. pasturage measure) is higher for sheep in the lowlands than in the highlands (Seligman et al.

4 For elaboration on the censuses carried out by the British government and the valuable date they provide, see Finkelstein 1992: 47–52; Sasson 1998; 2006.

reassessing the bronze and iron age economy

121

1959: Table 8; see also Sasson 2005a). Hence, rearing sheep in higher proportions in the lowlands did not compromise herd security. The analysis of data from the British census indicates that the survival subsistence strategy was extremely fundamental in the life of pastoralists throughout time: from the days of caprine domestication to premodern times. This strategy is also observed through sheep/goat ratio in various types of settlements and geographic regions Utilization of Caprine and Their Products (Meat, Milk, and Wool) Many scholars have discussed the kill-off patterns in caprine herds and their projection on utilization of caprine for prime (meat) and secondary products (milk, wool, and hides) (Payne 1973: 281–303; Davis 1987: 157–160; Wapnish and Hesse 1988: 81–94; Zeder 1991: 33–44). Payne, in his pioneering work from 1973, describes three mortality profiles of caprine; each reflects utilization of caprine for meat, milk, or wool (Payne 1973). He asserts that a high frequency of sub-adult caprine bones in a zooarchaeological assemblage points to the utilization of the herd for meat production: “If meat production is the aim, most of the young males are killed when they reach the optimum point in weight-gain, only few being kept for breeding” (ibid.: 281). Many others followed Payne’s model. Hellwing and Gophna studied the animal bones from Bronze Age sites, Tel Aphek, and Tel Dalit and they noted: “For sheep and goat population however more young animals were killed in the Early Bronze Age (5.8%) than in the Middle Bronze Age (3.4%). This may mean that in the earlier period small ruminants were raised mainly for their meat, whereas the secondary products of these animals—milk, wool, hides—were more important to the population in the later period” (Hellwing and Gophna 1984: 51; see also Davis 1987: 157–160; Croft 2004: 2268). Before discussing the rationale behind the slaughter of sub-adult males, one important comment should be made: Slaughter of sub-adults is widespread among pastoral groups. Perevolotsky describes this pattern in Peru (Perevolotsky 1986: 291); Brown (1971: 96) in Africa; Thomson et al. (1986: 120) in Syria; Hesse (1984: 250) in Iran; Cribb (198: 164) in Turkey; and Abu Rabia among the Bedouins of the northern Negev (Abu Rabia 1994: 55).

Izbet Zarta Shiloh Dalit Uza Shiloh Shiloh Yarmouth Arad XII–VI Yaqush Megiddo Beer-Sheba IX–VI Yaqush Qitmit Yaqush Megiddo Qasile Halif Miqne Masos Halif Hesban XV–XVII Sasa (Tomb)

Site and Strata

IA LB EB II IA II IA I MB II–III EB IA II EB III EB I IA I EB II IA II EB I EB III IA I IA II IA II IA I EB III IA II MB II

Period Coastal Plain Central Hill Shephelah Northern Negev Central Hill Central Hill Central Hill Northern Negev Northern Valleys Northern Valleys Northern Negev Northern Valleys Northern Negev Northern Valleys Northern Valleys Coastal Plain Northern Negev Shephelah Northern Negev Northern Negev Jordan Galilee

Region Rural Rural Urban Fortress Rural Urban Urban Fortress Rural Urban Rural Rural Sacred Rural Urban Rural Urban Urban Rural Urban Rural Burial

100 92 87 82 77 77 75 75 74 73 72 72 72 71 67 67 66 65 65 63 62 60

x Young All All All Young All All All All All All Young All Young All All All All Young All All

Mortality Sheep in % Type of profile and (out of total Settlement caprine caprine) products*

(continued on next page)

Hellwing 1986 Hellwing 1993 Horwitz et al. 1996 Sade 1988 Hellwing 1993 Hellwing 1993 Davis 1988 Sade 1988 Hesse-Wapnish 2001 Wapnish-Hesse 2000 Hellwing 1984 Hesse-Wapnish 2001 Horwitz-Raphael 1995 Hesse-Wapnish 2001 Wapnish-Hesse 2000 Davis 1985 Zeder 1990 Lev-Tov 2000 Tchernov-Drori 1983 Zeder 1990 LaBianca 1990 + 1995a Horwitz 1987

Reference**

Table 1. Frequency of sheep and goats in Mandatory Palestine (based on: Government of Palestine 1943)

122 aharon sasson

Roman IA II EB

Roman 1943 MB I EB II–III IA I IA II IA II IA I IA II MB I MB I LB IA I MB I IA II LB IA II Mamluk LB

Hesban XI–XIV Lod (District) Qaxaqir (Tomb) Dan (Tel) Hesban XVIII–XXI Beer-Sheba II Dan (Tel) Miqne City of David Avnon Bexer Resisim Halif Ai-Raddana Ein Ziq Qiri Lachish VI Harasim IVb Hesban II–III Miqne

Period

City of David {Ira Arad

Site and Strata

Table 1 (cont.)

Jordan Coastal Plain Central Hill Northern Valleys Jordan Northern Negev Northern Valleys Shephelah Central Hill Southern Negev Southern Negev Northern Negev Central Hill Southern Negev Northern Valleys Shephelah Shephelah Jordan Shephelah

Central Hill Northern Negev Northern Negev

Region

Rural Rural Burial Urban Rural Urban Rural Urban Urban Rural Rural Urban Rural Rural Rural Urban Urban Rural Urban

Urban Urban Urban 58 58 58 57 57 56 56 56 55 50 50 50 50 50 50 48 47 47 47

60 60 59 x x Young All All All All All All All All Young All All All x All x All

All All All

Mortality Sheep in % Type of profile and (out of total Settlement caprine caprine) products*

(continued on next page)

Horwitz 1996a Dayan + Horwitz 1999 Davis 1976 + Lernau 1978 LaBianca 1990 + 1995a Gov. of Palestine 1943 Horwitz 1987 Wapnish-Hesse 1991 LaBianca 1990 + 1995a Sasson 2004 Wapnish-Hesse 1991 Lev-Tov 2000 Horwitz 1996a Hakker-Orion 1999 Hakker-Orion 1999 Zeder 1990 Hesse 1999 Hakker-Orion 1999 Davis 1987 Drori 1979 Maher 1999 LaBianca 1990 + 1995a Lev-Tov 2000

Reference**

reassessing the bronze and iron age economy 123

M. Ebal Timna Hebron (District) Gaza (District) Safed (District) Lachish VIII Kabri Lachish III–IV City of David Hesban Eilot Nahal La’anah Nahal Omer Gerisa Gerisa Michal Michal Michal Aphek Harasim IVd Kinrot Kinrot Kabri Dan (Tomb)

Site and Strata

Table 1 (cont.)

IA I LB 1943 1943 1943 MB EB IA II IA I 1970 Islamic Islamic Islamic IA I LB I–II IA Persian LB MB II IA II EB LB IA II MB

Period Central Hill Southern Negev Central Hill Coastal Plain Galilee Shephelah Coastal Plain Shephelah Central Hill Jordan Southern Negev Southern Negev Southern Negev Coastal Plain Coastal Plain Coastal Plain Coastal Plain Coastal Plain Coastal Plain Shephelah Northern Valleys Northern Valleys Coastal Plain Northern Valleys

Region Sacred Sacred Rural Rural Rural Urban Urban? Urban Rural Rural Rural Rural Rural Rural Urban Rural Rural Rural Urban Urban Urban? Urban? Fortress Burial

44 44 39 39 39 38 32 26 25 22 0 less less x x x x x x x x x x x

x Young x x x x All x All x All x x All All All All All All All All All All All

Mortality Sheep in % Type of profile and (out of total Settlement caprine caprine) products* Horwitz 1986/7 Lernau 1988 Gov. of Palestine 1943 Gov. of Palestine 1943 Gov. of Palestine 1943 Drori 1979 Horwirz 2002 Drori 1979 Horwitz 1996a LaBianca 1995b Horwitz 1998 Nachlieli 1999 Nachlieli 1999 Sade 2001 Sade 2001 Hellwing-Feig 1989 Hellwing-Feig 1989 Hellwing-Feig 1989 Hellwing-Feig 1989 Maher 1998 Hellwing 1988/9 Hellwing 1988/9 Horwitz 2002 Horwitz 1996b

Reference**

124 aharon sasson

reassessing the bronze and iron age economy

125

Earlier, I pointed out that animal products in the Bronze and Iron Ages in Israel were not market oriented nor were they designated for “export.” Furthermore, the majority of households in these periods practiced self-sufficient economy. If one accepts these premises, a different interpretation for the sub-adult culling should be considered. The logic behind sub-adult culling lies within the survival subsistence strategy that strives for minimizing fluctuations in the resource base. According to Redding, preserving the resource base is one of the strongest selective pressures operating on human behavior (Redding 1993: 80). The recourse base in the suggested model is pasturelands for caprine. Horwitz and Smith studied the effect of nutrition on sheep bone mass (Horwitz and Smith 1990: 655–664). They found a differential effect of poor environmental conditions on bone metabolism in ewes, and related it to the additional stress imposed on females by gestation and lactation. Therefore, some components of the caprine herd must have been culled in order to free pasture forage for females that had a crucial role in reproduction and milk production (Dahl and Hjort 1976; Sherratt 1981: 283–284; Hesse 1999: 107). Two issues should be addressed: why mostly males are culled and why the sub-adult age group is generally chosen for this purpose. The preference for culling males over females stems from the male negligible contribution to herd reproduction and milk production;5 furthermore, they are ideal for culling since they reach 70% of their optimal body weight between the ages of one and three (Lernau 1978: 83; Borowski 1998: 57; also on this subject regarding cattle, see Sherratt 1981: 283–284). Moreover, once culled, their mothers’ milk is directed to the consumption of the household rather than for the feeding of juvenile animals. Cribb conducted a computer simulation in order to examine the various strategies of kill-off (i.e. culling) in caprine herds. He found that by increasing the slaughter of sub-adults, the herders attain significant improvement in milk productivity; the level of meat productivity improves as well; and wool productivity remains high (Cribb 1984).

5

For a detailed discussion and bibliography on culling practices, see Sasson 1998.

126

aharon sasson

To conclude, slaughtering sub-adult males is not necessarily related to “meat export” or market forces. It is a coherent pattern in the survival subsistence strategy, which consists of optimal exploitation of caprine for meat and milk, together with preservation of the resource base (pasture) for females that generate milk and render continuity to the herd. This model also implies that the early pastoralists were longterm planners, stabilizing the sizes of their herds in order to preserve their water resources and pasture. At first glance, this strategy has a pronounced weakness: Caprine and their products constituted significant components of the diet and self-sufficient economy of all societies in the southern Levant (nomadic, rural, and urban) (Sasson 1998; 2004; 2006). Thus, maintenance of flocks’ stable size limits, in turn, the potential growth of the populations depending on them for subsistence. Von Liebig propounded in 1842 the “Law of the Minimum.” This law has been extended to biological populations suggesting that the growth of a biological population is limited not by the total amount of resources available, but rather by the minimum amount of resources available (Liebig 1842). However, in light of the survival subsistence strategy, pastoralist groups favored a stable population, a stable flock size, stable subsistence resources, and minimum fluctuations, over expanding their population size, or gaining wealth ( Jochim 1981: 181). An example supporting this model is described by Khazanov regarding the stable population of livestock among the Hsiung-nu in Mongolia (Khazanov 1994: 71; for other examples see also Fortier 2000: 116; Marlow 2005: 58–59). Binford refers to this model and states that “the amount of food that is available during the least productive period of the year will limit the level of sustainable population within an area” (Binford 2001: 175). Caprine Products: Results Data on exploitation of caprine for meat, milk, or wool was compiled from zooarchaeological reports. The information presented in Table 1 under the column of mortality profile and caprine products is based on the interpretation of the zooarchaeologists that analyzed the faunal remains at that site. Most zooarchaeologists that analyze caprine bone remains sketch a mortality profile and provide conclusions concerning

reassessing the bronze and iron age economy

127

the extent of exploitation of these animals for meat, milk, wool, or all of the above. In Table 1, sites in which the zooarchaeologist determined that caprine were exploited for all their products (i.e. meat, milk, and wool) are marked as “All,” while sites in which high frequency culling of young caprine was noted, were marked as “Young.” The data show that in 45 of 54 sites (83%), the zooarchaeologist determined that caprine was utilized for a whole range of products rather than for specialized production of a particular product. This pattern occurs in all periods of the Bronze and Iron Ages as well, and across all geographical regions in Israel, from the northern valleys through the Central Hill and to the northern Negev (Fig. 2). This evidently indicates that a specialized economy in meat, milk, or wool production was not prevalent in the southern Levant. In other words, had a specialized economy of caprine products been practiced, one would expect to find diverse patterns that point to various specializations, in meat, milk, or wool production. Conclusions Two forces induced the life of the early households: the demand for agricultural lands, livestock, and raw materials (e.g., wool) in order to practice a self-sufficient economy; and the strive for minimizing risks and fluctuations of the resource base in order to maintain a long-term survival. This model was defined here as the survival subsistence strategy and was established upon diverse zooarchaeological finds. Apart from the comparative analysis presented in this paper, other aspects were examined elsewhere: (1) Taphonomic analysis and body part representation of caprine and cattle in Tel Beer-sheba, Stratum II (8th century BCE) point to a food maximizing strategy. Although Tel Beersheba was an urban site at that time, which might have settled an elite population, no indications for selective exploitation of body parts were traced (e.g., meat bearing body parts) (Sasson 2004: 31–51; in preparation). (2) Spatial distribution analysis of body parts in Stratum II at Tel Beer-sheba also showed no indications of social stratification, which is associated with a market economy. Valuable (meaty) animal body parts and less valuable body parts were scattered throughout all parts of the tell and were found mixed in numerous loci (ibid.: 63–77; 2005b). (3) A comparative analysis of caprine/cattle ratio from seventy archaeological

128

aharon sasson

sites and strata in Israel points to a pattern in the proportion of cattle bones in the hill country and the northern Negev—approximately 15%. Considering cattle were essential for ploughing at sedentary sites, they were bred in relatively low numbers to satisfactory levels for ploughing requirements, and subsequently, did not endanger the ecological equilibrium (pasture and water) (Sasson 2005a). The conclusions of the latter study are compatible with the results presented here. In most sites the relative frequency of sheep did not exceed 67%. The pattern occurs in all periods of the Bronze and Iron Ages and in all geographical regions in Israel. It reflects a survival subsistence strategy that strived for balance between the demand for wool—a product of sheep herding—and the demand for herd security, maintained mostly by goats. This pattern was underlined by removing wool from the equation. We may assume that in premodern mandatory Palestine wool was displaced by cotton and was no longer vital for fiber manufacturing. The survival subsistence strategy was still maintained, thus, the frequency of goats was increased in order to increase herd security. Moreover, a pattern of exploiting caprine for all of their products was recognized. The pattern occurs in all periods of the Bronze and Iron Ages as well as is all geographical regions in Israel and points to a self-sufficient economy and optimal exploitation of subsistence resources. This pattern stands in contrast with the argument regarding specialization in production of meat, milk, or wool in early Israel. In summary, the zooarchaeological finds presented here point to a conservative household economy which we refer to as a survival subsistence strategy. It was established on optimal utilization of resources and minimization of risk in order to maintain long-term survival. Acknowledgements This paper was written while I was a visiting scholar at the Department of Anthropology of the University of California, San Diego. I thank all my colleagues at the department for their friendship, and particularly Tom Levy for his warm hospitality and for generously lending me his office during my stay. Many thanks to Haya Golan-Sasson for her help in generating the maps on figures one and two.

reassessing the bronze and iron age economy

129

References Abu Rabia, A. 1994. The Negev Bedouin and Livestock Rearing. Oxford. Adams, R. M. 1981. Heartland of Cities: Surveys of Ancient Settlement and Land Use on the Central Floodplain of the Euphrates. Chicago. Binford, L. W. 2001. Constructing Frames of Reference: An Analytical Method for Archaeological Theory Building Using Hunter-Gatherer and Environmental Data Sets. London. Borowski, O. 1998. Every Living Thing: Daily Use of Animals in Ancient Israel. Walnut Creek. CA. Brown, L. H. 1971. The Biology of Pastoral Man as a Factor in Conservation. Biological Conservation 3/2: 93–100. Buitenhuis, H. 1990. Archaeozoological Aspects of Late Holocene Economy and Environment in the Near East. In: Bottema, S., Entjes-Nieborg, G., and Van Zeit, W., eds. Man’s Role in the Shaping of the Eastern Mediterranean Landscape. Rotterdam: 195–206. Clutton-Brock, J. 1987. A Natural History of Domesticated Mammals. Cambridge. Crabtree, P. J. 1990. Zooarchaeology and Complex Societies: Some Uses of Faunal Analysis for the Study of Trade, Social Status and Ethnicity. In: Schiffer, M. B., ed. Archaeological Method and Theory. Tuscon: 122–205. Cribb, R. 1984. Computer Simulation of Herding Systems as an Interpretive and Heuristic Device in the Study of Kill-Off Strategies. In: Clutton-Brock, J. and Grigson, C., eds. Animals and Archaeology: 3. Early Herders and Their Flocks (BAR International Series 202). Oxford: 161–170. Croft, P. 2004. Archaeozoological Studies Section A: The Osteological Remains (Mammalian and Avian). In: Ussishkin, D. The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973–1994) (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 22). Tel Aviv: 2254–2348. Dahl, G., and Hjort. A. 1976. Having Herds: Pastoral Herd Growth and Household Economy. Stockholm. Davis, S. J. M. 1987. The Archaeology of Animals. New Haven and London. ——. 1987. The Faunal Remains from Tell Qiri. In: Ben-Tor, A. and Portugali Y., eds. Tell Qiri, A Village in the Jezreel Valley. Jerusalem: 248–251. ——. 1985. The Large Mammal Bones. In: Mazar, A., ed. Excavations at Tell Qasile. Jerusalem: 148–151. ——. 1976. Mammal Bones from the Early Bronze Age City of Arad, Northern Negev Israel: Some Implications Concerning Human Exploitation. Journal of Archaeological Science 3: 137–152. ——. 1988. The Mammal Bones: Tel Yarmouth 1980–1982. In: de Miroschedji, P., ed. Yarmouth 1: Raport sur les trois premieres campagnes de fouilles a Tel Yarmouth (Israel) 1980–1982. Paris: 143–149. Dayan, T. 1999. Faunal Remains: Areas A–G. In: Beit-Arieh, I., ed. Tel {Ira: A Stronghold in the Biblical Negev (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 15). Tel Aviv: 480–487. Dever, W. G. 1992. Pastoralism and the End of Urban Early Bronze Age in Palestine. In: Bar-Yosef, O. and Khazanov, A., eds. Pastoralism in the Levant. Madison: 83–92. Donnell, E. J. 1872. Chronological and Statistical History of Cotton. New York. Drori, I. 1979. Tel Lachish: Subsistence and Natural Environmental during the Middle Bronze, Late Bronze and Iron Age Periods (M.A. thesis, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv (Hebrew). Fall, P. L., Lines, L., and Falconer, S. E. 1998. Seeds of Civilization: Bronze Age Rural Economy and Ecology in the Southern Levant. Annals of the Association of American Geographers 88/1: 107–125.

130

aharon sasson

Finch, V. A., Dmi’el, R., Boxman, R., Shkolnik, A., and Taylor, C. R. 1980. Why Black Goats in Hot Deserts? Effects of Coat Color on Heat Exchanges of Wild and Domestic Goats. Physiological Zoology 53/1: 19–25. Finkelstein, I. 1992. A Few Notes on Demographic Data from Recent Generations and Ethnoarchaeology. PEQ 122: 47–52. Finkelstein, I. and Silberman, N. A. 2001. The Bible Unearthed: Archaeology’s New Vision of Ancient Israel and the Origin of Its Sacred Texts. New York. Fortier, J. 2000. Monkey’s Thigh is the Shaman’s Meat: Ideologies of Sharing among the Raute of Nepal. In: Wenzel, G., Hovelsrud-Broda, G., and Kishigami, N., eds. The Social Economy of Sharing: Resource Allocation and Modern Hunter-Gatherers (Senri Ethnological Studies 53). Osaka: 113–148. Government of Palestine. 1943. Enumeration of Livestock. Jerusalem. Grigson, C. 1995. Plough and Pasture in the Early Economy of the Southern Levant. In: Levy, T. E., ed. The Archaeology of Society in the Holy Land. London: 245–268. Hakker-Orion, D. 1999. Faunal Remains from Middle Bronze Age I Sites in the Negev Highlands. In: Cohen, R., ed. Ancient Settlement of the Central Negev: The Chalcolithic Period, the Early Bronze Age and the Middle Bronze Age I. Vol. 1 (IAA Reports 6). Jerusalem: 327–335 (Hebrew). Halstead, P. 1993. Banking on Livestock: Indirect Storage in Greek Agriculture. Bulletin on Sumerian Agriculture 7: 63–75. ——. 1996. Pastoralism or Household Herding: Problems of Scale and Specialization in Early Greek Animal Husbandry. World Archaeology 28/1: 20–42. Halstead, P. and O’shea, J. 1989. Introduction: Cultural Responses to Risk and Uncertainty. In: Halstead, P. and O’shea, J., eds. Bad Year Economics: Cultural Responses to Risk and Uncertainty. Cambridge: 1–7. Hellwing, S. 1986. Animal Bones. In: Finkelstein, I., ed. {Izbet Âartah: An Early Iron Age Site near Rosh Ha{ayin, Israel (BAR International Series 299). Oxfrod: 141–155. ——. 1988–89. Faunal Remains from the Early Bronze and Late Bronze Ages at Tel Kinrot. Tel Aviv 15–16: 212–220. Hellwing, S. and Feig, N. 1989. Animal Bones. In: Herzog, Z., Rapp, G., Jr., and Negbi, O., eds. Excavations at Tel Michal, Israel (Publications of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 8). Tel Aviv and Minneapolis: 236–247. Hellwing, S. and Gophna, R. 1984. The Animal Remains from the Early and Middle Bronze Ages at Tel Aphek and Tel Dalit: A Comparative Study. Tel Aviv 11: 48–58. Hellwing, S., Sade, M., and Kishon, V. 1993. Faunal Remains. In: Finkelstein, I., Bunimovitz, S., and Lederman, Z. Shiloh: The Archaeology of a Biblical Site (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 10). Tel Aviv: 309–350. Herzog, Z. 1997. Architecture of the City: Urban Planning in Ancient Israel and Its Social Implications (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 13). Tel Aviv. Hesse, B. 1984. These Are Our Goats: The Origins of Herding in West Central Iran. In: Clutton-Brock, J. and Grigson, C., eds. Animals and Archaeology: 3. Early Herders and Their Flocks (BAR International Series 202). Oxford: 243–264. ——. 1999. Animal Bone Analysis. In: Lederman, Z. An Early Iron Age Village at Khirbet Raddana: The Excavation of Joseph A. Callaway (Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University). Cambridge: 103–118. ——. 2003. Archaeozoology. In: Richard, S., ed. Near Eastern Archaeology: A Reader. Winona Lake, IA: 17–26. Hesse, B. and Wapnish, P. 1985. Animal Bone Archaeology from Objectives to Analysis. Washington.

reassessing the bronze and iron age economy

131

——. 2001. Commodities and Cuisine: Animals in the Early Bronze Age of Northern Palestine. In: Wolff, S. R., ed. Studies in the Archaeology of Israel and Neighboring Lands in Memory of Douglas L. Esee. Atlanta: 251–282. Hirsch, S. 1993. Sheep and Goats in Palestine. Tel Aviv. Holladay, J. S. 1995. The Kingdoms of Israel and Judah: Political and Economic Centralization in the Iron II A–B (ca. 1000–750 BCE). In: Levy, T. E., ed. The Archaeology of Society in the Holy Land. London: 368–398. Hopkins, D. 1996. Bare Bones: The Economics of Ancient Israel. In: Fritz, V. and Davis, P. R., eds. The Origins of the Ancient Israelite States. Sheffield: 121–141. Horwitz, L. K. 1987. Animal Offerings from Two Middle Bronze Age Tombs. IEJ 37: 251–255. ——. 1996a. Faunal Remains from Areas A, B, D, H and K. In: Ariel, D. T. and de Groot, A., eds. Excavations at the City of David 1978–1985. Vol. 4 (Qedem 35). Jerusalem: 302–317. ——. 1996b. Animal Bones from the Middle Bronze Age Tombs at Tel Dan. In: Biran, A., Ilan, D. and Greenberg, R. Dan I: A Chronicle of the Excavations, the Pottery Neolithic, the Early Bronze Age and the Middle Bronze Age Tombs. Jerusalem: 268–276. ——. 1998 Animal Exploitation during the Early Islamic Period in the Negev: The Fauna from Elat-Elot. {Atiqot 36: 27–35. ——. 1999. Faunal Remains: Areas L and M. In: Beit-Arieh, ed. Tel {Ira: A Stronghold in the Biblical Negev (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 15). Tel Aviv: 488–494. ——. 2002. Archaeozoological Remains Animal Bones. In: Scheftelowitz, N. and Oren, R., eds. Tel Kabri: The 1986–1993 Excavation Seasons (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 20). Tel Aviv: 395–408. ——. 1986–1987. Faunal Remains from the Early Iron Age Site on Mount Ebal. Tel Aviv 13/14: 173–189. Horwitz, L. K., Hellwing, S., and Tchernov, E. 1996. Patterns of Animal Exploitation at Early Bronze Age Tel Dalit. In: Gophna, R., ed. Excavations at Tel Dalit. Tel Aviv: 193–216. Horwitz, L. K. and Raphael, O. 1995. Faunal Remains. In: Beit-Arieh, I., ed. Æorvat Qitmit: An Edomite Shrine in the Biblical Negev. Tel Aviv: 287–302. Horwitz, L. K. and Smith, P. 1990. A Radiographic Study of the Extent of Variation in Cortical Bone Thickness in Soay Sheep. Journal of Archaeological Science 17: 655–664. Horwitz, L. K. and Tchernov, E. 1989. Animal Exploitation in the Early Bronze Age of the Southern Levant. In: de Miroschedji, P., ed. L‘urbanisation de la Palestine a` l’âge du Bronze Ancien (BAR International Series 527). Oxford: 279–296: 1989. Ingold, T. 1980. Hunters Pastoralists and Ranchers, Reindeer Economics and Their Transformation. Cambridge. Jacobson, T. C. and Smith, G. D. 2001. Cotton’s Renaissance: A Study in Market Innovation. Cambridge, UK. Jochim, M. A. 1981. Strategies for Survival: Cultural Behavior in an Ecological Context. New York. Jongman, W. and Dekker, R. 1989. Public Intervention in the Food Supply in PreIndustrial Europe. In: Halstead, P. and O’shea, J., eds. Bad Year Economics: Cultural Responses to Risk and Uncertainty. Cambridge: 114–122. Khazanov, A. M. 1994. Nomads and the Outside World (second edition, Crookenden, J., translator). Madison. Killen, J. 1993. Records of Sheep and Goats at Mycenaean Knossos and Pylos. Bulletin on Sumerian Agriculture 7: 209–218. King, P. J. and Stager, L. E. 2001. Life in Biblical Israel1. Louisville, KY. LaBianca, Ø. S. 1990. Sedentarization and Nomdization: Food System Cycles at Hesban and Vicinity in Transjordan. Michigan.

132

aharon sasson

——. 1995a. Ethnoarchaeological and Taphonomical Investigation in the Village of Hesban. In: LaBianca, Ø. S. and von den Driesch, A., eds. Faunal Remains. Michigan: 17–32. ——. 1995b. Final Report on the Zooarchaological Investigation of Animal Bone Finds From Tell Hesban, Jordan. In: LaBianca, Ø. S. and von den Driesch, A., eds. Faunal Remains. Michigan: 67–108. ——. 1999. Salient Features of Iron Age Tribal Kingdom. In: MacDonald, B. and Younker, R. W., eds. Ancient Ammon. Leiden: 19–29. Liebig, J. von. 1842. Chemistry in Its Application to Agriculture and Physiology. London. Lernau, H. 1978. Faunal Remains, Strata III–I. In: Amiran, R., ed. Early Arad. Jerusalem: 83–113. ——. 1988. Mammalian Remains. In: Rothenberg, B., ed. The Egyptian Mining Temple at Timna. London: 246–253. Lev-Tov, J. S. E. 2000. Pigs, Philistines and the Ancient Animal Economy of Ekron from the Late Bronze to the Iron Age II (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Tennessee, Knoxville). Knoxville. Maher, E. F. 1998. Iron Age Fauna from Tel Harasim Excavation 1996. In: Givon, S., ed. The Eighth Season of Excavation at Tel Harasim (Nahal Barkai) 1997. Tel Aviv: 13–25. ——. 1999. Iron Age Exploitation at Tel Harasim. In: Givon, S., ed. The Ninth Season of Excavation at Tel Harasim (Nahal Barkai) 1998. Tel Aviv: 27–44. Marlowe, F. W. 2005. Hunter-Gatherers and Human Evolution. Evolutionary Anthropology: Issues, News, and Reviews 14: 54–67. McCorriston, J. 1997. The Fiber Revolution: Textile Extensification, Alienation, and Social Stratification in Ancient Mesopotamia. Current Anthropology 38: 517–549. Nachlieli, D. 1999. The Negev between the 7th and 11th Centuries CE in Light of Archaeological Findings and Historical Research (Ph.D. dissertation, Hebrew University). Jerusalem (Hebrew). Ochsenschlager, E. L. 2004. Iraq’s Marsh Arabs in the Garden of Eden. Philadelphia. O’Connor, T. P. 2000. The Archaeology of Animal Bones. Stroud. Payne, S. 1973. Kill-Off Patterns in Sheep and Goats: Mandibles from Asvan Kale. Anatolian Studies 23: 281–303. Perevolotsky, A. 1986. To Sell or Not to Sell—A Pastoralist’s Dilemma: A Lesson from the Slaughterhouse. Human Ecology 14/3: 287–310. Polanyi, K. 1957b. The Economy as Instituted Process. In: Polanyi, K., Arensberg, C. M., and Pearson, H. W., eds. Trade and Market in the Early Empires: Economies in History and Theory. Glencoe: 243–269. ——. 1957a. Marketless Trading in Hammurabi’s Time. In: Polanyi, K., Arensberg, C. M., and Pearson, H. W., eds. Trade and Market in the Early Empires: Economies in History and Theory. Glencoe: 12–26. Ray, P. J. Jr. 2001. Tell Hesban and Vicinity in the Iron Age (Hesban Final Reports 6). Berrien Springs, MI. Redding, R. W. 1984. Theoretical Determinations of a Herder’s Decisions: Modeling Variation in the Sheep/Goat Ratio. In: Clutton-Brock, J. and Grigson, C., eds. Animals in Archaeology: 3. Early Herders and Their Flocks (BAR International Series 202). Oxford: 223–241. ——. 1993. Subsistence Security as a Selective Pressure Favoring Increasing Cultural Complexity. Bulletin on Sumerian Agriculture 7: 77–98. Reitz, E. J. and Wing, E.S. 1999. Archaeozoology. Cambridge. Ryder, M. L. 1993. Sheep and Goat Husbandry with Particular Reference to Textile Fiber and Milk Production. Bulletin on Sumerian Agriculture 7: 9–32. ——. 1984. Sheep Representation, Written Records and Wool Measurements. In: Clutton-Brock, J. and Grigson, C., eds. Animals in Archaeology: 3. Early Herders and Their Flocks (BAR International Series 202). Oxford: 69–82.

reassessing the bronze and iron age economy

133

Sade, M. 2001. Social, Economic and Environmental Aspects of the Transition from the Late Bronze Age to the Iron Age I Based on Archaeozoological Findings in Eretz-Israel (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. Sasson, A. In preparation. Taphonomic Study in Tell Site, a Case Study from Tel Beer-sheba, Israel (8th Century BC). ——. 1998. The Pastoral Component in the Economy of Hill Country Sites in the Intermediate Bronze and Iron Ages: Archaeo-Ethnographic Case Studies. Tel Aviv 25: 3–51. ——. 2004. Animal Husbandry (Caprine and Cattle) in Eretz Israel in Light of Zooarchaeological Research in Stratum II (8th Century BCE) at Tel Beer-Sheba (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. ——. 2005a. Economic Strategies and the Role of Cattle in the Southern Levant in the Bronze and Iron Age. In: Buitenhuis, H., Choyke, A. M., Martin, L., Bartosiewicz, L., and Mashkour, M., eds. Archaeozoology of the Near East VI: Proceedings of the Sixth International Symposium on the Archaeozoology of Southwestern Asia and Adjacent Areas (ARC-Publicatie 123). Groningen: 208–221. ——. 2005b. A GIS Spatial Analysis of Faunal Remains from Stratum II, Tel Beer-Sheba, Israel (AASOR). Philadelphia. ——. 2006. Animal Husbandry and Diet in Pre-Modern Villages in Mandatory Palestine, According to Ethnographic Data. In: Maltby, J. M., ed. Integrating Zooarchaeology. Oxford: 33–40. Seligman, N., Rosensaft, Z., Tadmor, N., Katzenelson, J., and Naveh, Z. 1959. Natural Pasture of Israel, Vegetation, Carrying Capacity and Improvement. Tel Aviv (Hebrew). Shamir, O. 2002. Textile Production in Eretz-Israel. Michmanim 16: 19–32. Sherratt, A. 1981. Plough and Pastoralism: Aspects of the Secondary Product Revolution. In: Hodder, I., Isaac, G., and Hammond, N., eds. Pattern of the Past. Cambridge: 261–305. ——. 1983. The Secondary Exploitation of Animals in the Old World. World Archaeology 15: 90–104. Shkolnik, A. 1988. Physiological Adaptations to the Environment: The Israeli Experience. In: Yom-Tov, Y. and Tchernov, E., eds. The Zoogeography of Israel. Boston: 487–496. Smith, S. E. 1978. The Environmental Adaptation of Nomads in the West African Sahel: A Key to Understanding Prehistoric Pastoralists. In: Weissleder, W., ed. The Nomadic Alternative: Modes and Models of Interaction in the African-Asian Deserts and Steppes. The Hague: 75–96. Swift, J. 1973. Disaster and a Sahelian Nomad Economy. In: Dalby, D. and Church, R. J. H., eds. Drought in Africa: Report of the 1973 Symposium. London: 71–78. Stepien, M. 1996. Animal Husbandry in the Ancient near East: A Prosopographic Study of Third-Millennium Umma. Bethesda, MD. Tchernov, E. and Drori, I. 1983. Economic Patterns and Environmental Conditions at Hirbet el-Msas during the Early Iron Age. In: Fritz, V. and Kempinski, A., eds. Ergebnisse der Ausgrabungen Aur der Hirbet el-Msas (Tel Masos) 1972–1975. Wiesbeden: 213–224. Tchernov, E. and Horwitz, L. K. 1990. Herd Management in the Past and Its Impact on the Landscape of the Southern Levant. In: Bottema, S., Entjes-Nieborg, G., and Van Zeit, W., eds. Man’s Role in the Shaping of the Eastern Mediterranean Landscape. Rotterdam: 207–218. Thomson, E. F., Bahhady, F., Thermanini, A., and Mokbel, M. 1986. Availability of Home-Produced Wheat, Milk Products and Meat to Sheep Owning Families at the Cultivated Margin of N.W. Syrian Steppe. Ecology of Food and Nutrition 19: 113–121. Van De Mieroop, M. 1993. Sheep and Goat Herding according to the Old Babylonian Text from Ur. Bulletin on Sumerian Agriculture 7: 161–182.

134

aharon sasson

Wapnish, P. and Hesse, B. 1988. Urbanization and the Organization of Animal Production at Tell Jemmeh in the Middle Bronze Age Levant. JNES 47/2: 81–94. ——. 1991. Faunal Remains from Tel Dan: Perspective on Animal Production at a Village, Urban and Ritual Center. Archaeozoologia 4/2: 9–86. ——. 2000. Mammal Remains from the Early Bronze Sacred Compound. In: Finkelstein, I., Ussishkin, D., and Halpern, B., eds. Megiddo III: The 1992–1996 Seasons (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 18). Tel Aviv: 429–462. Zeder, M. 1990. Animal Exploitation at Tell Halif. BASOR Supplement 26: 24–32. ——. 1991. Feeding Cities. Washington.

SETTLEMENT PATTERNS OF PHILISTINE CITY-STATES Alon Shavit An analysis of a regional study conducted in Israel’s southern Coastal Plain (Shavit 2003) showed that the settlement pattern of most of the cities in Philistia, from the beginning of the Iron Age until the 8th century BCE, was characterized by urban centers and by an almost total absence of a rural hinterland; that is, the absence of a hierarchal settlement complex in the vicinity of the cities, as could be expected in a system of “mature” settlements. In order to examine the cultural sources of the settlement complexes of the important urban centers in Philistia, from the beginning of the Iron Age onward, we should compare them to the following relevant settlement complexes: • settlement patterns prior to the settling of the Philistines in the research region at the end of the Late Bronze Age; • other settlement patterns in the Land of Israel, contemporary with those in the Philistia region; • settlement patterns in the Aegean world at the end of the Late Bronze Age and the beginning of the Iron Age. Diagnosing the settlement pattern that characterized Philistia throughout most of the Iron Age and defining its cultural sources are important instruments for defining the cultural identity of urban centers in Philistia, and for understanding the mutual relationships between the centers themselves and between them and nearby political entities. A Survey of Israel’s Southern Coastal Plain during the Iron Age II This study is based on the reconstruction of the settlement patterns that existed in the southern Coastal Plain during the Iron Age II (Fig. 1). The reconstruction work combined a critical study of finds from 63

136

alon shavit

excavated sites; a field survey of approximately 240 days; the results of previously conducted surveys; as well as gathering of substantial information from researches and archive reports that have not yet been published. As of today, 248 sites have been dated to the Iron Age II in the southern Coastal Plain. They are spread across 3,260 km2, stretching from the Yarkon River in the north to Na˜al Besor in the south, and from the Judean Shephela in the east to the Mediterranean Sea in the west. Methodological Remarks A regional study of settlements in ancient periods cannot be based solely on data obtained through fieldwork. Subjective evaluations made by the surveyor play an important role in interpreting this data. This is particularly true in research dealing with the Iron Age II, a period about which information is so scarce. The following evaluations refer to the populated area of each site in every sub-period, and to the population density of each site.1 Below are some of the problems encountered during this study: It is hard to estimate the life span of a settlement, the number of times it was abandoned and resettled during one period of time, and whether or not it was inhabited simultaneously with other sites; yet these distinctions are significant for demographic estimates. The presupposition of the present study, adopting the methodology of regional archaeology, is that sites that yielded finds from a particular period were populated during at least a part of that period.2 Differences in survey intensity of different areas may affect the reconstruction of the settlement picture. Geological and geomorphological processes impede fieldwork, result analysis, and consequent reconstructions of ancient settlement patterns. For example, beach sand in coastal areas, silt deposits in riverbeds, and layers of loess covering short-lived sites obscure site remains thus

For the methodological problems of regional studies in ancient periods, see Portugali 1988. 2 For a discussion of problems involved in demographic evaluations based on this assumption, see Schacht 1984. 1

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

137

distorting results pertaining site characterization3 and obstructing the settlement image arising from the survey. When sites or findspots were discerned and it was unclear whether or not they represent an Iron Age II settlement, they were deemed as settlements of 0.1 ha. While this might have altered the count of tiny villages in the region under discussion, it must be taken into account that remains of small settlements and farms are generally hard to locate through survey methods, and it is possible that some of these sites have not been found and recorded. It is thus difficult to assess whether the method we used caused a distortion of the number of settlements in this category. However, estimating the size of these findspots at a mere 0.1 ha ensures that they have no remarkable influence on general demographic assessments. In some cases we found no sherds at a site that had previously been surveyed and attributed to the Iron Age II. When this happened and data from former surveys were proven to be well based, the site was included in the study, but not in the analysis of the periodical settlement patterns. Although objective characterization and quantification methods were used in the sorting of finds, high similarity between pottery assemblages from the 10th and 9th centuries BCE, and between those from the 8th and 7th centuries BCE made it impossible to date some of the collected sherds to a specific period. In these cases, sites where the sherds were found were dated to two consecutive centuries, even in the case of short-lived sites; hence the similarity found between the settlement patterns of the 10th and 9th BCE, and between those of the 8th and 7th centuries BCE. The sorting of the pottery by centuries may have also lead to misrepresentations. For instance, sherds that were dated according to comparison to Level III at Tel Lachish were generally attributed to the

3 Neev and Bakler (1978: 9–30) surveyed the ancient sites on the Tel Aviv and Ashdod shorelines. These were established as inland sites, but nowadays they are submerged in water. Sinking processes of coastal sands have occurred until ca. 1,400 years ago (see Netzer 1994). The sinking processes of the aeolic loess had a minor influence on the landscape throughout the historical periods, yet in certain regions in the northwestern Negev loess sedimentation has accumulated to a height of ca. 20 cm from the Iron Age and until today (see Dan and Yaalon 1976). Rosen suggested that alluvial sedimentation took place in the Late Roman period in the valleys around Tel Lachish (Rosen 1996), which is why the surveyors could not observe its satellite sites.

138

alon shavit

8th century BCE, although the excavators of this site attribute this level to the end of the century.4 Some demographic processes occurred toward the end of a century. For instance, the Assyrian conquest of the Kingdom of Israel in 732 BCE created suitable conditions for populating the southern frontier of the kingdom (Naxaman 1986a: 11). New settlements were indeed founded during the last quarter of the 8th century BCE, but ascribed in this study to the whole century because of the chosen analysis methods. Settlement Patterns around the Philistine City-States Several settlement complexes dating to the Iron Age II were detected in the study region. Lacking historical information and clear-cut archaeological criteria that would allow relating each site to one of the complexes, the area of each settlement complex was determined by general evaluation, considering the following factors: Satellite sites had to be within a half-day waking distance from central sites, to allow village residents to make their way to and from the central site in a day. Therefore, the distance between them could not exceed 10–15 km. These conditions are necessary for sustaining continuous commercial relations between a central settlement and the surrounding villages (Bunce 1982; see also Johnson 1987: 115). Landscape and geographic complexes, such as ridges and rivers, may affect relations between settlements. Although the topography of the southern Coastal Plain is mild and there are no natural obstacles that hinder traveling, in some instances topographic criteria were used to define the borders between adjacent settlement complexes. A study of the El-Amarna letters of the Late Bronze Age and of the biblical border description (e.g., Josh. 19), demonstrates the importance of topographic considerations in outlining borders (Naxaman 1986c). This essay presents five settlement complexes that include the five urban centers of Philistia. In every complex each sub-period is studied and discussed separately. Through a comparative study, I wish to discern the processes and the tendencies that characterize every complex.

4 Zimhoni (1977: 173) dated the assemblage from Level III at Lachish to the second half of the 8th century BCE.

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

139

The Na˜al Soreq Basin: Tel Miqne-Ekron and Its Region During most periods, Tel Miqne-Ekron’s settlement outline overlapped the outline of the Na˜al Soreq basin. Exceptions are Iron Age II sites that lie in the Coastal Plain, north and south of the Soreq estuary. These sites are distanced ca. 20 km from Tel Miqne-Ekron, and it appears that their relations with the city were loose. No developed settlement complex existed in the Tel Miqne-Ekron region during the 10th–8th centuries BCE (Fig. 2). In view of the evaluation of the Na˜al Soreq basin settlement pattern, it seems doubtful that Ekron was perceived as an urban center for surrounding settlements at that time. It is more likely that residents of this region had an affinity with other nearby central settlements, such as Gezer, Tel ¶afit-Gath, and Tel Ashdod. During the 10th century BCE, only ten settlements existed in the Na˜al Soreq basin. Their estimated populated area is 16.7 ha overall, and their population is estimated at ca. 3,400. On average, each settlement covered 1.7 ha and had 340 inhabitants. At that period, the settled area of Tel Miqne-Ekron is estimated at ca. 4 ha.5 Tel Shalaf that lay north of it and Tel Æarasim, lying halfway between Tel ¶afit-Gath and Tel Miqne-Ekron both had a similar estimated populated area of ca. 4 ha. The extension of these three middle-sized settlements reflects a lack of unity in settlement complexes surrounding large urban centers. This is evident also in the analysis of settlement distribution (Fig. 3).6 5 Gitin dated the main decrease in the area of Tel Miqne-Ekron to the second quarter of the 10th century BCE (Gitin 1989: 25). In this essay, I prefer the affinity with Stratum III at Tel Miqne-Ekron, because the large city of Stratum IV reflects archaeological and historical processes that are largely related to the Iron Age I (despite the fact that the end of Stratum IV occurred during the course of the 10th century BCE). Finkelstein suggested setting the destruction date of Stratum IV at Tel Miqne-Ekron at the time of Shishak’s campaign, based on the “Low Chronology” (see Finkelstein 2002a). According to this proposal, during the course of the 10th century BCE the city covered ca. 20 ha. 6 Fig. 3 presents an analysis of the settlement complex in the study area, based on the rank-size rule. This analysis measures the unity of the settlement complex: The settlements are shown along a logarithmic diagram, in which the y axis represents the size of the settlement (or the number of its inhabitants), and the x axis represents the settlements on a size scale, from the largest (1) to the smallest (whose number equals the total number of settlements in the complex). A normal curve (which approximates a 45° angle from the top of the y axis at the bottom of the x axis) reflects a unified settlement pattern. A convex curve represents a pattern of one large settlement with a restricted settlement complex. A concave curve represents a combination of several settlement complexes, independent of each other, spread across a given area, or

140

alon shavit

Several modifications appeared in the 9th century BCE on the settlement map of the Na˜al Soreq basin (Fig. 4). In this phase of the Iron Age II the region also comprised ten settlements: Some settlements were abandoned (the sites T.P. Z102, Khirbet Man{am, and Yavneh Camp), while new ones were populated (Tel Ma˜oz, Palma˜im,7 and the Mgha’ar Hills). The overall populated area during the 9th century BCE is estimated at 19.3 ha, an increase of 15% compared to the 10th century BCE. Hence, during this period, ca. 4,000 inhabitants lived in the Na˜al Soreq basin region. During the 8th century BCE, there was a significant increase in the number of settlements in the Na˜al Soreq basin (Fig. 5). A total of 18 settlements was detected: an increase of 80% compared to the 9th century BCE. The overall populated area covered 25.3 ha, and the estimated population was over 5,000: an increase of 31% compared to the 9th century BCE. Tel Miqne-Ekron reached the peak of prosperity and development during the 7th century BCE, but the increase in settlement number and population size at the end of the 8th century BCE reflects the beginning of this process as early as then. During the 7th century BCE, Tel Miqne-Ekron emerged as one of the largest olive oil producers of the ancient world (Gitin 1989; Eitam 1996), while major demographic changes occurred in its surroundings. At this time the number of settlements in the Na˜al Soreq basin reached 20 (Fig. 6), increasing by 11% compared to the 8th century BCE. The overall populated area of these settlements is estimated at ca. 41 ha, with a population of ca. 8,200: an increase of 62% compared to the 8th century. Tel Miqne-Ekron itself covered ca. 20 ha, and its population is estimated at 4,000. Eitam estimates the overall area of Tel Miqne-Ekron at the end of the Iron Age at 30 ha (Eitam 1996), but since this evaluation includes areas outside the living quarters of the city, it cannot be used for demographic calculations. a study area that lies at the margins of a ramified settlement complex. In both cases, the analysis points to a low settlement unity. This analysis method was first used in urban-geographical studies, and was then adapted to the analysis of ancient settlement complexes. A rank-size rule analysis was used in many studies of Israel’s regional archaeology (Sharon 1983: 6; Gophna and Portugali 1988; Portugali 1988; Bunimovitz 1989; Maeir 1997; Lehmann 2001; Ofer 2001) following similar studies conducted worldwide (see, for example, Johnson 1981; 1987). For the theoretical foundation of this rule relating to ancient settlement patterns, see Hodder and Orton 1976; Carter 1983. A summary of the research history of the rank-size rule, including the theoretical foundation and the drawbacks of the method, are included in Maeir 1997. 7 I believe this site was used for burial purposes only.

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

141

It appears that for the first time, during the 7th century BCE, the settlement complex of Tel Miqne-Ekron and its surroundings reached a stage of maturity, achieving a unity between the main city and its satellite settlements and villages. The curve that describes the settlement complex in the area of Tel Miqne-Ekron during the 7th century BCE according to the rank-size rule8 is slightly convex (Fig. 7), yet it also deviates only slightly from the normal log (an analysis of the curve of settlements larger than 0.5 ha). The diagram indicates a high degree of unity, compared to the diagram describing the settlement complex in the area during the 10th century BCE (Fig. 3). However, there seems to be a lack of correlation between the size of Tel Miqne-Ekron and the size of its satellite settlements, hence the appearance of a concave distribution tendency. Such a tendency is sometimes attributed to immature settlement patterns. It thus seems that the fast growth of Tel Miqne-Ekron did not stem from a significantly more moderate growth of its satellite settlements. Fig. 8 describes the demographic tendencies of the Na˜al Soreq basin settlement pattern throughout the Iron Age II. This pattern exhibits moderate growth during the 10th and 8th centuries BCE. A notable growth of the populated area is observed along with the significant growth of Tel Miqne-Ekron at the beginning of the 7th century BCE.

8 Studies that analyze settlement patterns and make use of the rank-size rule frequently analyze groups of settlements that have areas or populations larger than a certain specified limit. Maeir conducted analyses of settlements the areas of which were above 1 ha (Maeir 1997). The inclusion of farms and tiny villages in the analyses and diagrams creates a constant distortion, reflected in the “tail” of the diagram below the normal log. Apparently, it may be concluded that in a normal settlement pattern, one may expect an abundance of tiny villages, some of which may escape the eye of the surveyor. However, an examination of settlement patterns in modern times indicates that even such complexes, characterized by a high unity, do not exhibit a large number of tiny villages (see Grossman and Sonis 1989: 91).

142

alon shavit Tel ¶afit-Gath9 and Its Region

The settlement complex of Tel ¶afit is located in the eastern part of the Na˜al Lachish basin. In this complex we detected Iron Age settlements distanced ca. 5 km from Tel ¶afit-Gath to the east, north, and west. Most of the settlements detected were to the south of Tel ¶afitGath, and the southern boundary of the settlement complex was set at a distance of 15 km from the tell. It seems that due to the proximity of Tel Miqne-Ekron to Tel ¶afit-Gath, the settlement complex of the latter evolved mostly southward. During the 10th century BCE, only three settlements emerged in the Tel ¶afit-Gath complex. I estimate the overall populated area at ca. 7.5 ha (Shavit 2003: 180). The Tel ¶afit excavation team conducted by A. Maeir has excavated the eastern slope of the site to date (Maeir 2001; Maeir and Erlich 2001). In view of the first findings from these excavations, Temporary Stratum 5 at Tel ¶afit-Gath was paralleled to Stratum IV at Tel Miqne-Ekron. Although the final stages of both these strata are ascribed to the beginning of the 10th century BCE, it seems that they comprise mostly remains of cities that existed during the 11th century BCE, i.e. during the Iron Age I. Temporary Stratum 4 at Tel ¶afit-Gath was dated by the excavators to the 9th century BCE. I believe that during most of the 10th century BCE Tel ¶afit-Gath’s area was relatively smaller than that of the 9th century BCE (Fig. 9).10

New excavations have been carried out at the site since 1996 (Maeir 2001; 2003; Maeir and Ehrlich 2001; Uziel and Maeir 2005). Maeir and Erlich reviewed previous studies that identify Gath at Tel ¶afit. Only 0.12 ha of the tell have been excavated: strata dated to the 13th–8th centuries BCE. So far, only preliminary reports have been published. 10 Uziel estimated the populated area of Tel ¶afit during various periods based on the datable ceramic finds discovered on the surface. He stated that there are factors that influence the distribution of potsherds over a relatively large area, compared to a populated area, and emphasized that his estimates are maximal (Uziel 2003: 27). Despite his hesitation, the excavation team adopted his area estimates. Although the survey we conducted on the tell was very limited in comparison to Uziel’s work, I believe Uziel’s method has some shortcomings deriving from its inclusive treatment of finds from all terrains. Thus, many findspots of sherds located on the northern and western slopes of Tel ¶afit, facing Na˜al Ela, have been included in the area of the tell although the steep topography might indicate that the site had more limited boundaries. It is possible that the lack of finds from Strata 6, 5, and 3 in Area E is not a random phenomenon, but rather points to the fact that at the periods in question the eastern boundary of the settlement was located at the margins of Area A. However, Uziel ignores the excavations results, which hold a higher value than those of the survey, and assumes that the site extended far to the east of Area E. I believe the excavation 9

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

143

The settlements of Tel {Erani and Tel Zayit that were located in the surroundings of Tel ¶afit-Gath at that period each comprised a populated area of only ca. 0.1 ha. Since both rural settlements are quite distant from Tel ¶afit-Gath, their affinity with it cannot be clearly established. The villages at Khirbet Boten and at Wadi Luzit (east), which lay close to Tel ¶afit-Gath, were also populated during the 10th century BCE, each with an estimated populated area of ca. 0.1 ha. During the 9th century BCE it appears that there was a population gap at Tel Zayit, while in the surroundings of Tel ¶afit-Gath only three settlements existed: Tel {Erani, Khirbet Boten, and Wadi Luzit (East). The size of Tel ¶afit-Gath greatly increased during the 9th century BCE, reaching an area of ca. 14 ha,11 and its population reached ca. 2,800. An extraordinary phenomenon, which might be attributed to the settlement pattern characteristic of the Philistine settlement during the Iron Age I, is that the significant growth of this settlement found no expression in the surrounding settlement complex. In the prophecy of Amos, Gath is mentioned alongside Calneh and Hamat as an example of a powerful kingdom (Amos 6: 2). Naxaman believes that Amos’s description reflects the position of Gath prior to the prophet’s time. He attributed the downfall of the city to the conquests of Hazael the Aramean (2 Kings, 12: 17) in 835 BCE, by a parallel to similar processes occurring at the end of the 9th century BCE at the Syrian cities, Calneh and Hamat (Naxaman 2002). Naxaman further stressed that in the Assyrian sources Gath is not mentioned as a city-state, and it is probable that by the end of the 8th century BCE, the time of the Assyrian conquests, the city no longer maintained its past position. During the renewed excavations at Tel ¶afit-Gath, signs of severe destruction were detected and ascribed to the end of the 9th century or the beginning of the 8th century BCE (Maeir 2001: 114, 121–126; 2003: 244). Furthermore, the excavation team examined a siege system that stretches across ca. 2 km. The sections produced in this system and

team should conduct several random soundings at the areas between the slopes of the tell to Na˜al Ela, and east of Area E. The findings from these soundings will either support Uziel’s conclusions, or conversely, allow adopting a more restricted territorial estimate, conforming to the conclusions presented here. 11 Maeir asserted that Tel ¶afit covered a maximum of 40–50 ha (Maeir 2001: 113). It seems that this estimate covers not only the continuously populated area of the tell, but also various vestiges in its surrounding that do not belong to residences and their annexes (see above, note 10, my objections to Uziel’s method). I estimate the overall populated area of Tel ¶afit at ca. 20 ha.

144

alon shavit

the finds uncovered therein indicate that both the construction of the system and its sealing should be dated to the Iron Age II (Maeir 2003: 245). Maeir and Naxaman attributed the aforementioned archaeological evidence to the occupation of Gath by Hazael. The first appearance of a settlement complex around Tel ¶afitGath occurred during the 8th century BCE (Fig. 10). This complex comprised 17 settlements, an overall populated area of 26.9 ha, and ca. 5,400 inhabitants. The average size of a settlement in this complex was 1.6 ha, with an average population of 320. The Tel ¶afit-Gath settlement complex emerged at a time when the population of its central settlement decreased. The conquest of Gath by Uzziah, king of Judea, is described in 2 Chron. 26: 6. Although the reliability of this source is uncertain, some regard it as a trustworthy historical description ( Japhet 1993: 877, with further references pro and con the reliability of the passage). It is however possible that Tel ¶afit-Gath declined with the expansion of Judea. The Assyrian sources indicate that during the days of Sargon II Gath was under the rule of Ashdod (Pritchard 1950: 286; Fuchs 1994: 131). A fragment of an Assyrian stele, uncovered at the site by Bliss and Macalister, might shed some light on the events of the time of Sargon II (Bliss et al. 1902: 41). It is unlikely that the Assyrians would want to commemorate their activity by erecting a stele in a city that stopped functioning as a major urban center centuries earlier. Naxaman ascribed the fortifications of Tel ¶afit-Gath, which is mentioned among Rehoboam’s fortifications (1 Chron. 11: 5–12), to the eve of Sennacherib’s campaign in the days of Hezekiah (Naxaman 1986b). He concluded that Hezekiah had overtaken Gath and other areas at the border of Philistia, and brought lmlk stamps, found in most of the sites appearing in the aforementioned list, as evidence. At Tel ¶afit-Gath six such stamps were uncovered (Vaughn 1999: 166).12 It is possible that the growth of the settlement complex at the Tel ¶afit-Gath area is related to processes in the surroundings of Tel Miqne-Ekron, north of Tel ¶afit-Gath. Maeir claims that a “seesaw” 12 Naxaman’s suggestion to relate the distribution of lmlk-stamped jars to Hezekiah’s preparation for war against the Assyrians is likely. However, the supposition that Gath was annexed to Judea at that time is problematic, if it is to rely only on the finds of stamped jar handles, given that many such finds were unearthed at Tel Gezer, a city conquered by the Assyrians prior to Sennacherib’s time. Furthermore, such stamps were also found at other sites outsides the Judean kingdom, for instance at Tel Miqne-Ekron, Tel Batash, and Tel Ashdod (see Vaughn 1999).

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

145

relationship existed between Tel ¶afit-Gath and Tel Miqne-Ekron. The population peak of Tel ¶afit-Gath occurred at some point between the 10th and the 8th centuries BCE. It was only after the decline of Tel ¶afit-Gath at the end of the 8th century BCE that Tel Miqne-Ekron flourished. This development was, in Maeir’s view, a result of the geographical proximity between the two Philistine cities. The limited area in which they existed made their simultaneous flourish impossible.13 It is therefore more probable that the settlements in the vicinity of Tel ¶afit-Gath and Tel Miqne-Ekron belonged to a single settlement complex, whose center wandered from one city to the other; during the 8th century BCE, it was Tel Miqne-Ekron that prevailed. The five city-states, therefore, did not constitute a pentapolis. The biblical description reflects an accumulated historical memory. Tel Miqne-Ekron and Tel ¶afit-Gath never functioned as urban and political centers at one and the same time; each enjoyed a central status at a different period (Finkelstein 2002a). Figs. 10 and 11 indicate an immaturity of the settlement complex in the vicinity of Tel ¶afit-Gath during the 8th century BCE, despite the flourishing noticed in the area. The discrepancy between the size of Tel ¶afit-Gath, the central city, and the size of its satellite settlements is evident. During the 7th century BCE, 16 settlements existed in the vicinity of Tel ¶afit-Gath, covering an overall area of 15.5 ha with an estimated population of ca. 3,300 inhabitants (Fig. 12). The average size of a settlement in this complex was ca. 1 ha, and it comprised an average of 200 inhabitants. During this period, the populated area of Tel ¶afit-Gath declined to a mere 4 ha, and less than 1,000 people inhabited the city.14 It should be noted that despite the low point that Tel ¶afit-Gath’s power had reached and the number of its inhabitants, there is hardly any evidence indicating that damage was caused to its economicagricultural hinterland. It appears that the settlements in the surroundings of Tel ¶afit-Gath maintained close contacts with neighboring Tel 13 Based on a lecture held by A. Maeir on January 10, 2001, at a conference dedicated to the Iron Age II, on behalf of Yad Yitzhak Ben-Zvi and the Israel Antiquities Authority. 14 A survey conducted at Tel ¶afit yielded no sherds that could be dated with certainty to the 7th century BCE. The estimate of the populated area of the site is based on Maeir’s description: “There is very little evidence for a settlement during the 7th century BCE” (Maeir 2001: 114).

146

alon shavit

Miqne-Ekron, supplying it with crops, mainly olives for oil production. Tel Miqne-Ekron’s flourishing economy ensured the continuing prosperity of Tel ¶afit-Gath’s satellite villages, despite the fact that their own center had lost its position. A similar phenomenon can be discerned in the settlement complex of Tel Gezer. The archaeological finds do not enable us to determine whether during the 7th century BCE Tel ¶afit-Gath had an affinity with Judea or with Philistia. It is not mentioned in the list of cities in Josh. 15, which is dated to the 7th century BCE (Alt 1953: 276–278; Naxaman 1991). Rosette stamps, considered typical of the 7th century BCE (Kletter 1999), were uncovered at Tel ¶afit-Gath (Maeir 2003: 244; Uziel 2003: 49), yet the excavators of the site remain doubtful that it was settled during the time; Finkelstein suggested that a small settlement did exist at Tel ¶afit-Gath, but rather than being a part of Judea it had an affinity with Tel Miqne-Ekron (Finkelstein 2002b). Dagan documented many Iron Age II sites located at the borders of the region discussed herein, at a distance of up to 4 km from Tel ¶afit-Gath (Dagan 1992; 2000). During the field survey we conducted, seven of these sites were examined,15 and finds of both surveys were compared (Shavit 2000: 185). In four of the sites described in Dagan’s report, the renewed survey uncovered no datable finds.16 In the case of two other sites Dagan’s description matched the finds of the renewed survey, but the sites yielded no sherds that could be dated to the Iron Age II. On the other hand, sherds from this period were uncovered in the south and east of Khirbet Boten. In view of this, it appears that during the Iron Age II,

15 All seven sites were surveyed by an experienced unit of three to four surveyors, who inspected each site for over 40 minutes. The sites were located using a map of 1: 20,000 and a GPS system. At places where no vestiges were spotted in the datum point given by Dagan’s report we surveyed a radius of 200 meters around the datum point. 16 We have been unable to examine finds from Dagan’s survey; however, the inconsistency between his finds and the finds of the renewed survey may be explained through errors that occurred in the datum points of sites he surveyed. Dagan mentioned a significant number of finds from the Iron Age in the description of several sites, yet the renewed survey found no evidence for such. It is possible that in some instances Dagan was wrong in his dating of sherds. In his study of the hinterland of the Philistine settlement, which is based, among other sources, on finds from the survey conducted by Dagan, Finkelstein stated: “It should be noted that this area was fully combed by Dagan; the field data, therefore, are almost complete” (Finkelstein 1996: 233). I believe that Finkelstein’s assertion is untenable, even though the difference in the information regards mainly the Iron Age II, which was not the subject of his study.

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

147

the settlement at this site was much smaller that the one that existed there at its peak during the Hellenistic period and maybe also during the Byzantine period. The area of Khirbet Boten during the Iron Age II is estimated at only ca. 1 ha. Tel Ashdod and Its Surroundings and the Lower Part of the Na˜al Lachish Basin The settlement complex of Tel Ashdod stretches over the western part of the Na˜al Lachish basin, and most of its settlements lie at a distance of up to 10 km from Tel Ashdod.17 The present study indicates that during the 10th century BCE, Tel Ashdod covered less than 10 settled ha (Fig. 13), and its population was less than 2,000 inhabitants. This estimate is based on the assumption that at the time, only the upper part of the mound, an area of ca. 7 ha, was settled. During that period, the rural settlement in the surroundings of Tel Ashdod was very sparse: Only four villages have been detected in its area, and their population is estimated at ca. 200 inhabitants in all. The results of excavations at Tel Ashdod indicate that although the 10th-century-BCE city that occupied the site was relatively large, it had almost no rural hinterland. The same phenomenon is noticed in regard to Tel Miqne-Ekron and Tel ¶afit-Gath and their settlement complex, and its roots probably lie in the settlement pattern of the Iron Age I. During the 9th century BCE, Tel Ashdod achieved demographic stability, and yet the survey shows that only two tiny villages remained in the surroundings of the city: at Tel Poran and at Nitzanim beach; their population is estimated at only ca. 100 inhabitants. During the 8th century BCE, Tel Ashdod reached its peak (Fig. 14). It was in this period, for the first time, that the settled area of the city extended outside the upper part of the mound, spreading out over the entire lower tell, and even over the plain southwest of the mound.

17 Two settlements in the area of the Na˜al Lachish basin, at Tel Zippor and at Karatiya, were not included in the settlement complex discussed in the present study. These two sites are located ca. 15 km from Tel ¶afit-Gath and from Tel Ashdod, and their affinity with one of the urban centers or with a different central settlement is not clear.

148

alon shavit

I estimate the settled area of Tel Ashdod at 28 ha18 and its population at ca. 5,600 inhabitants. The size of Tel Ashdod during this time is unparalleled to the size of any other Philistine town throughout the Iron Age.19 The flourishing of Tel Ashdod can clearly be seen through the settlement complex that developed around it for the first time: It comprised 15 settlements, with an overall estimated settled area of 16.5 ha, and an estimated population of 3,300 inhabitants. The number of inhabitants in Tel Ashdod’s rural hinterland reached only ca. 60% of the town’s population, indicating disproportion between the size of the city and the size of the settlement complex surrounding it. An important settlement in the hinterland of Tel Ashdod during the 8th–7th centuries BCE comprised two sites: Tel Poran and Tel Poran (west). These sites, located approximately halfway between Tel Ashdod and Tel Ashkelon, lie on the borderline between the marzevah “trough” and the coastal dunes, and the international road must have passed in their vicinity. The joined populated area of Tel Poran and Tel Poran (west) is estimated at ca. 8 ha. Only several hundreds of meters separate the two settlements, and while they appear as two different sites, it is possible that their inhabitants considered themselves as belonging to a single community. Grossman discussed a similar, more recent phenomenon of “cluster settlements,” characteristic of rural Arab settlement patterns in Palestine (Grossman 1991): Two or more historical settlement nuclei evolve into a single village. This type of process is often the result of a settlement forming around two clan centers. In other cases, secondary nuclei are formed due to lack of arable soils, and are integrated into the original settlement once they have fully developed. It ought to be noted that if indeed Tel Poran and Tel Poran (west) constituted a single community system, the size of this settlement during the 7th century BCE was equivalent to that of the contemporaneous settlement at Tel Ashdod. During the 7th century BCE, the settled area of Tel Ashdod decreased notably (Figs. 15, 16). It appears that at this period the city covered only ca. 7 ha, and was inhabited by ca. 1,500 inhabitants. Only 13 settlements remained in the settlement complex of Tel Ashdod,

Finkelstein and Singer-Avitz estimated the settled area of Tel Ashdod during the 8th century BCE at 30 ha (Finkelstein and Singer-Avitz 2001). 19 To date, the size of Tel Ashkelon during the Iron Age II cannot be determined. 18

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

149

with an overall populated area of 15 ha and a population of ca. 3,000 inhabitants—a decrease of 9% from the 8th century BCE. The average populated area of a settlement in this complex, Tel Ashdod excluded, is estimated at ca. 1.2 ha. The average number of inhabitants is estimated at 240. Finkelstein and Singer-Avitz concluded that during the 7th century BCE, Ashdod-Yam replaced Tel Ashdod, which was not settled at that period (Finkelstein and Singer-Avitz 2001). According to this supposition, the mention of Ashdod in the Assyrian sources from the 7th century BCE refers to Ashdod-Yam, a coastal center that was probably founded at the initiative of the Assyrians. The excavation reports of Tel Ashdod displayed some errors in plan drawings and shortcomings in excavation methods and in registration techniques. This prompted Finkelstein and Singer-Avitz to argue against the stratigraphic and chronological conclusions offered by the excavators of the site. Ben-Shlomo rejected their criticism claiming that it was based on partial data that were available at the time (Ben-Shlomo 2003) and did not consider, for example, the recently published results of excavation seasons 1968–1969 (Dothan and Ben-Shlomo 2005), during which most of Area H was excavated. While one cannot ignore the faults of the earlier reports,20 it seems that Finkelstein and SingerAvitz’s conclusion are somewhat harsh. I believe that while Tel Ashdod was still a large settlement in the Na˜al Lachish basin complex in the 7th century BCE, its economic and political importance and centrality decreased dramatically. Tel Ashkelon and Its Surroundings The settlement complex of Tel Ashkelon lies in the western region of the Shiqma basin. Most of the sites in this complex, discerned also in our survey, lie south of Tel Ashkelon, within a ca. 10 km radius from it. A plausible explanation for this southward development is the proximity of Tel Ashkelon to Tel Ashdod, which is located ca. 15 km northeast of it. The border between these two settlement complexes may have migrated throughout the periods. If this was the case, at times when one

20 For additional criticism concerning errors in plan drawing and excavation methods, see Ussishkin 1990; Ben-Shlomo 2003.

150

alon shavit

of the cities enjoyed a more prominent status it could have functioned as an urban center for the satellite settlements of the other city—a process similar to the one offered for neighboring cities Tel ¶afit-Gath and Tel Miqne-Ekron, and their settlement complexes. Detailed reports of the results of excavations at Tel Ashkelon have not yet been published. Therefore, there is sparse information pertaining to the size of the Iron Age II city, its commercial relationships, and its economic and industrial activity. It is likely that during the 7th century BCE, while Tel Ashdod lost some of its status and decreased in size, Tel Ashkelon became a central seaport (Stager 1996a; Master 2001). During the 10th–9th centuries BCE, the populated area of Tel Ashkelon covered an estimated area of 10 ha. This estimate is based on the assumption that during the Iron Age II, the city of Ashkelon covered mainly the top area of the mound, and maybe limited areas outside it as well. In its vicinity only two villages existed. Finds datable to this time span have been uncovered at two sites south of Tel Ashkelon: Netiv ha-{Asara, the area of which is estimated at less than 1 ha (Yasur-Landau and Shavit 1998; Shavit and Yasur-Landau 2005), and Erez, a small site no bigger than 0.1–0.2 ha. It appears that during the 10th–9th centuries BCE, Tel Ashkelon was not surrounded by a mature rural complex, and the nature of relations between the city and the two mentioned villages is not clear. Tel Ashkelon exhibits the same phenomenon mentioned above: a Philistine urban center, comprising ca. 2,000 inhabitants, with almost no rural hinterland. In the 8th century BCE, 11 new villages were founded in the vicinity of Tel Ashkelon, thus creating for the first time in the Iron Age II a true settlement complex (Fig. 17). It was not a consolidated complex, and consisted mostly of tiny villages or farms. The overall populated area of its sites covered ca. 5 ha, and the village population is estimated at ca. 1,000 inhabitants. The population of Tel Ashkelon itself shows stability throughout the Iron Age II, and it is estimated at ca. 2,000 inhabitants at this time too. During the 7th century BCE, there was no substantial change in the number of settlements surrounding Tel Ashkelon, and yet the settlement complex during this period seems more consolidated than that of the 8th century (Figs. 18, 19). The villages at Netiv ha-{Asara, Beit Jirjia, and Yad Mordechai became secondary centers at the southern part of this complex, and the population of each is estimated at several

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

151

hundreds. The overall populated area of a dozen settlements in the vicinity of Tel Ashkelon is estimated at ca. 7.5 ha, and their population is estimated at ca. 1,500 inhabitants. Most of these settlements were tiny villages of an average size of 0.6 ha and a population of ca. 125 (not including Tel Ashkelon). Although there was a noticeable increase of the population of this village complex by 50% in comparison to the 8th century BCE, its overall population was still smaller than the population of the center, Tel Ashkelon; this indicates the immaturity of this settlement complex. Stager described Tel Ashkelon as a major political, economic, and cultural center, basing his assertion on the finds uncovered at the site attesting to industrial and commercial activity, and to international commercial relationships (Stager 1996a; 1996b). The botanical finds also indicate the ties of the city with many regions of the country at the end of the Iron Age (Weiss and Kislev 2004). The Assyrian documents further attest the importance of the city and its central position. However, a mature settlement complex was never created in the vicinity of Tel Ashkelon, and the city did not have a stable rural hinterland to rely on. In the full course of the Iron Age II Tel Ashkelon never exhibited a true demographic pool of the kind that usually serves a central city in order to actualize its economic and political force. However, it is worth noting that whereas in the 10th–9th centuries BCE Tel Ashkelon had almost no rural hinterland, in the 8th–7th centuries BCE a limited rural settlement complex did evolve around the city. But the small scale of this complex supports Stager’s supposition that Tel Ashkelon’s strength was based mainly on its “port power” and it relied on international commerce, particularly maritime trade (Stager 1996b; 2001). Allen described the settlement complex pattern of Tel Ashkelon as “access resources” (Allen 1997). Like Stager, he attributed the strength of the city, in view of the insufficiency of its hinterland, to the fact that the city lay on a crossroad of international commercial highways, both land and maritime. Gaza and the Na˜al Besor Basin This group of settlements includes all Iron Age II sites in the Na˜al Besor basin. The city of Gaza, the largest and most prominent in this area, covered an estimated area of ca. 10 ha, and had a population of

152

alon shavit

ca. 2,000 inhabitants.21 However, a study of the settlement distribution in this area shows that with the exception of Blakhiyeh that lay near Gaza, all the other settlements of this complex were located at a distance of more than 12 km from it, most even at a distance of over 20 km. Therefore, it is unlikely that the inhabitants of the villages in the Na˜al Besor basin visited Gaza regularly. There is no doubt that Gaza was a central city, as well as a port and the most important southern station on the main road that passed along the coastal strip of the Land of Israel. Yet it would seem that similarly to Tel Ashkelon, Gaza too relied on its “port power” and on international maritime and land trade. Hence the assumption that it was not Gaza, but rather the large settlement at Tell Jemmeh, that functioned as the center for the Na˜al Besor basin settlement complex. In the course of the Iron Age II this settlement covered ca. 4 ha, and its population is estimated at ca. 800 inhabitants. The mound lies on a central crossroad (Aharoni and AviYonah 1993), and it is close to most of the rural settlements located along Na˜al Besor. This enabled Tell Jemmeh to maintain steady and continuous contacts with the surrounding settlements. During the 10th century BCE, 15 settlements existed in the Na˜al Besor basin (Figs. 20, 21). Their overall populated area is estimated at 24.2 ha, and the population at this period is estimated at ca. 4,800 inhabitants. The average size of each settlement was ca. 1 ha, with a population of ca. 200 (excluding the city of Gaza). At four middle-sized villages in the area, Tell el-{Ajjul, Tell el-Far{ah (S), Qubur el-Walaida, and Urim, the population reached an estimated 700–800 inhabitants. A survey conducted by Gazit in this region revealed an upsurge in settlement during the Iron Age I (Gazit 1996), and it seems that during the 10th century BCE, settlement stability was maintained to a certain extent. When analyzing the settlement complex of the region according to the rank-size rule the curve appears slightly concave, indicating a settlement complex with a low level of unity.

21 Tel Gaza was not included in the survey we conducted. The estimate of the populated area of the mound is based on the evaluation of the excavator (Pythian-Adams 1923)—who stated that Tel Gaza was larger than the higher Tel Ashkelon—and on an analysis of the excavation finds. Recently, J. Humbert conducted excavations at Tel Gaza and uncovered finds dating to the Iron Age, but his first published reports do not touch upon the area evaluations of the mound during this period (Humbert 2000).

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

153

During the 9th century BCE, the number of settlements in the region decreased to seven (Fig. 22). Their overall area is estimated at ca. 20.4 ha, and their population at ca. 4,000 inhabitants. Although Gaza probably exhibited demographic stability, throughout the rest of the region there was a decrease in population by an estimated 27%. Particularly noteworthy is the disappearance of most of the tiny villages. During the 8th century BCE, 11 settlements existed in the Na˜al Besor basin (Figs. 23, 24). At the end of the century, a settlement was founded at Tell er-Ruqeish with an estimated area of 10 ha. This brought the overall populated area of the settlements in the region to ca. 27.4 ha, an increase of ca. 35% compared to the 9th century BCE. On the other hand, all middle-sized villages (1–3 ha) ceased to exist with the exception of the settlement at Blakhiyeh, founded at the end of the 8th century BCE. The overall populated area of the coastal settlements at Blakhiyeh and Tell er-Ruqeish reached an estimated ca. 22 ha. The rest of the settlements in the Na˜al Besor basin, in the proximity of Tell Jemmeh, remained small and poorly populated. During the 7th century BCE, resurgence occurred in the settlement complex of the area (Fig. 25): Fifteen villages have been dated to this period—an increase of 36%. Their overall populated area is estimated at ca. 31 ha, and their population is estimated at ca. 6,200 inhabitants (an increase of 13%). The main turning point was the resettling of several villages that were probably not populated during the 9th and 8th centuries BCE. Among these are the villages at Tell el-Far{ah (S) and at Qubur el-Walaida (the latter did not recover its previous size). New villages were also founded, including the ones at Ruwibi and at Na˜al Besor. It is likely that the increase in settlement number at the Na˜al Besor basin is related to the development of the Gaza Coastal Plain under Assyrian rule. The founding of the centers at Tel Jemmah, Tell er-Ruqeish, and Blakhiyeh, and the development of commercial activity in the area, evident in historical sources, served as a stimulus for the emergence of a hinterland. Fig. 24 represents this development (in particular when compared to Fig. 21): The curve is convex on its upper part, and concave on its lower part, but a slight variation from the normal log is apparent.

154

alon shavit The Aegean Sources for the Formation of the Philistine City-State

The settlement complex22 of most of the cities of Philistia, from its beginning until the 8th century BCE, was characterized, as described above, by large urban centers and an almost complete absence of a hinterland. Hence, the absence of a settlement rank expected in a mature settlement complex. In order to examine the cultural sources of the main settlement complexes in Philistia, from the beginning of the Iron Age onward, we must compare them with the following: • The state of settlement in the study area, at the end of the Late Bronze Age, preceding the arrival of the Philistines • Contemporary settlement complexes from all of the Land of Israel • Settlement centers in the Aegean world at the end of the Late Bronze Age and the beginning of the Iron Age The Settlement Complex of the Southern Coastal Plain during the Late Bronze Age Bunimovitz noticed sparse settlement at the Coastal Plain during the Late Bronze Age (Bunimovitz 1989). Urban centers in this region were few, and each of them covered a populated area no bigger than 5 ha. Despite the small size of its population during the Late Bronze Age, the Coastal Plain was characterized by a settlement rank of at least three size categories (Finkelstein 1996: 231). Conversely, during the Iron Age I, the hinterland of the cities was severely reduced, thus resulting in a lack of settlement hierarchy. Therefore, it is unlikely that the size of the Philistine cities during the Iron Age I and the lack of a settlement hierarchy in this period are to be attributed to the Canaanite culturalcivic tradition, as per Singer’s view (Singer 1994).

22 Tel Ashdod was not an urban center until the 8th century BCE. In view of the archaeological data available to date, it is difficult to estimate the populated area of Gaza during the Iron Age.

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

155

The Settlement Patterns in Israel at the Beginning of the Iron Age When attempting to compare settlement patterns in the region of Philistia to those in contemporary complexes in other parts of the country, we encounter some methodical difficulties: In most studies material distinctions between sub-periods of the Iron Age are overlooked (Dagan 1992; Stepansky 1999). The same is true for periodical population estimates per site. This impedes attempts to estimate settlement sizes, and examine population and demographic changes according to sub-periods. Exceptions are the settlement complexes in the vicinities of Gezer, Akko, Hazor, and Megiddo, where finds from surveys were sorted by sub-periods, and population sizes estimated During the Iron Age I, Gezer was smaller than most Philistine urban centers (the size of Gaza and Tel Ashkelon at the time is not clear), but unlike other centers it relied on a mature and hierarchical settlement complex (Shavit 2000: 211–215). Gezer alone covered over 10 ha. In its proximity lay five settlements of 1.1–3 ha, and eight more villages and hamlets. A preliminary report of a survey conducted by Lehmann in the Akko Valley (Lehmann 2001) sheds light on the settlement complex of Akko and its surroundings: a ca. 20 km radius around the city and an area of 650 km² in all. In the Late Bronze Age, the populated area of Akko covered over 10 ha, and its settlement complex included 41 settlements. During the Iron Age I, the population in the Akko Valley decreased by ca. 10%–20%. The most significant change in the region, in view of the survey, was the collapse of the settlement complex during the Iron Age I. Akko ceased to be a large and central city, while 38 settlements in the surveyed region, belonging to the three smallest size categories are dated to the Iron Age I. Analyses of the settlement complexes according to the rank-size rule show convex curves in all periods, yet while the settlement complexes of the Late Bronze Age and the Iron Age II are characterized by curves nearing a straight line, the Iron Age I is characterized by a more concave curve, indicating little unity of the settlement complex. During the Iron Age II, the settlement complex in the Akko Valley started to flourish: There was a 150% increase in population, and 54 villages datable to this period were counted. Similar processes were observed by Lehman in the Lower Galilee (ibid.: 90). Despite the geographical similarity between the southern and northern Coastal Plain, during the Iron Age I, the region of Akko underwent processes unlike the ones that took place

156

alon shavit

in Philistia. It seems that although the Sea Peoples settled also in the northern Coastal Plain (Lehmann 2001 with further references), the Canaanite culture remained dominant in this region, and no settlement complexes similar to the ones in Philistia evolved. Processes similar to the ones observed in the Akko Valley occurred also at Hazor and in its surroundings (Ilan 1999: 166–171, 211–214). During the Late Bronze Age, Hazor was a large urban center, standing at the head of a small settlement complex comprising three large cities, four middle-sized settlements, and eight small settlements or farms. During the Iron Age I, the number of settlements in the region rose to 25, yet no central city dominated the area. Finkelstein and Halpern studied the settlement complex of Megiddo and the Jezreel Valley (Finkelstein and Halpern 1995). In this region, which ranges over 600 km², 37 sites datable to the Late Bronze Age have been located, the major being Megiddo with a populated area of ca. 11 ha. Among the sites were also six middle-sized settlements (1.1–4 ha); the rest were small villages. Thirty-eight settlements in the Jezreel Valley and on the surrounding ridges have been dated to the Iron Age I. Their overall populated area is estimated at ca. 34.6 ha, a decrease of 11% compared to the Late Bronze Age. Megiddo also underwent a decrease in size during the Iron Age I, and its populated area at the time is estimated at only ca. 6 ha. The settlement complex in this region maintained its stability compared to the Late Bronze Age. Similar processes may be noted in the regions of Megiddo, Akko, and Hazor. While the urban centers diminished, the settlement complexes maintained their size and strength, evolving into low-unity settlement complexes. These processes are opposite to the ones that took place in Philistia, a region where the urban centers increased in size, while the hinterland diminished severely. The Settlement Pattern in the Aegean World at the End of the Bronze Age and the Beginning of the Iron Age It is generally agreed that during the period under discussion, settlement patterns and urban planning in Israel’s southern Coastal Plain were highly affected by Aegean forms and concepts. Mazar and Stager maintained that the careful planning displayed by the Philistine cities, as well as their size, indicate Aegean concepts of settlement planning (Mazar 1990; Stager 1995: 345). Bunimovitz argues that a process of

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

157

synoecism resembling the situation at the LH IIIC Peloponnese is seen clearly at Tel Ashdod, Tel Miqne-Ekron, and Tel Ashkelon (Bunimovitz 1998). Finkelstein ascribed this process to a limited number of Aegean newcomers that came from an urban society and had a technological and demographic edge over the local population (Finkelstein 1996: 236), while Yasur-Landau perceived more substantial Aegean migration and colonization as the most plausible explanation for these similarities (Yasur-Landau 2002: 387–388, 435–437). During the transition period from the Palatial to the post-Palatial era in the Aegean world, one encounters processes similar to the ones observed in the southern Coastal Plain. Some of the closest parallels come from the Argolid: Central sites remained settled during LH IIIC, while secondary sites, towns, and villages, such as Berbati, Prosymna, and Iria, were destroyed or abandoned at the end of LH IIIB or at the beginning of LH IIIC (Kilian 1990: 446). For example, Tiryns and Midea—both fortified acropoli in LH IIIB (Shelmerdine 1997: 552)—displayed an increase of population at the beginning of LH IIIC while the countryside of the Argolid remained almost completely empty, suggesting the possibility of synoecism (Rutter 1992: 70; Schallin 1996: 173). A process of nucleation can also be discerned in protoPalatial East Crete, where no settlement hierarchy is evident. At this time Petras, Zakros, and Palaikastro were large towns and all sites in their surroundings were single houses and farms (Driessen 2001: 61). In other areas hierarchical settlement patterns were annihilated, when the main site was either destroyed or abandoned, along with most of its satellites. Such is the case for the kingdom of Pylos (Small 1998: 285): In western Messenia the beginning of the LH III is marked by the abandonment of earlier sites (as opposed to the Argolid where new sites were founded). This may be connected with the rise of Pylos as a strong center (Shelmerdine 1997: 553). Pylos increased in size and power throughout the LH, and during LH III in particular (Bennet and Shelmerdine 2001: 136–137). Finds of animal bones constitute additional evidence that may shed light on the urban life patterns in Philistia and on their Aegean origins. Hesse noticed a major increase in finds of pig bone during the Iron Age I in excavations of Philistine cities compared to the Late Bronze Age (Hesse 1990). In Tel Ashkelon pig bones constituted 4% of the overall animal finds in a level dated to the 13th century BCE, while in a 12th-century-BCE level they constituted 19%. At Tel Miqne-Ekron too there was an increase in these finds from 8% during the earlier period

158

alon shavit

to 18% during the later period. Hesse also noticed an increase in cattle bones compared to caprine bones. Lev-Tov performed an analysis of animal bones at Tel Miqne-Ekron based on a much larger sample than the one used by Hesse (Lev-Tov 2000). His study indicated a dramatic increase in the presence of pig bones at Tel Miqne-Ekron: In Stratum V pig bones made up 24% of all animal bone finds. According to Hesse and Wapnish (Hesse and Wapnish 1997: 240–253) the characteristics of farmsteads that rely on pig farming are as follows: • Pig farming is characteristic of pastoral agriculture, and not of intensive agriculture, where there is a preference for cattle raising; • pigs are more typical of rural farms than of urban farms; • pig herds are more easily moved and acclimatized to a new surrounding, and therefore constitute an important component in the economy of immigrants seeking an available and immediate protein source that is independent of their changing surroundings; • pig farming characterizes lower strata of society. These characteristics comply with the Philistine settlement pattern: an immigrant society that could not base its livestock farming on an existing hinterland, as there were hardly any villages left in the vicinity of the cities in Philistia at the time. Hesse and Wapnish related pig farming to a rural society, as opposed to an urban one, which is characteristic of most of the Philistine population from the beginning of its settlement in Canaan and up to the 8th century BCE. Lev-Tov rejected the interpretation offered by Hesse and Wapnish according to which pig farming indicates a society of immigrants (Lev-Tov 2000). He pointed out that pigs had already constituted a large portion of livestock in the Aegean sites, where the Philistines originated, a tendency that persisted in Philistine sites for ca. 200 years after the migration of the Sea Peoples to Canaan. In Lev-Tov’s view pig raising is characteristic of family farming, which is the reason for a significant decrease in pig farming once the settlement complexes developed and their economies became specialized. These conclusions contradict the results of the present study. While at Tel Miqne-Ekron the decrease in pig bone finds began already at Stratum IV, where they constitute 5% of the overall animal bone finds, the settlement complex surrounding Tel Miqne-Ekron began to mature only at the end of the 8th century BCE, about two centuries later. Yasur-Landau believes that the dominance of cattle and pig in the Philistine livestock was a result of the need to consolidate the livestock farming in the vicinity of urban settlements, located at a

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

159

relatively restricted area on the plain, and lacking hinterland (YasurLandau 2002: 391). Yasur-Landau presented data from excavations conducted in Greece, e.g., at Tiryns, at the transition from LH IIIB to LH IIIC (ibid.). These data indicate that the component of livestock in the Argolid was similar to the one found in Philistine sites, which may serve as an indication for Aegean settlement patterns in those sites. I believe that the reason pig farming was preferred over animal husbandry in Philistine settlements is not only lack of hinterland, but also the formation of a unique model of “city-villages” in the urban centers in Philistia. The components and characteristics of this “city-village” or “quasi-city” have been specified by Andreev (1989: 169–170): • A full or partial fortification system • Dense urban fabric leaving almost no open spaces for animal enclosures • A planned city outline including street alignment • Public infrastructure including paved streets, water wells, and a sewage system • A high level of masonry atypical of rural settlements • A temple or an unroofed cultic site, or a complex that includes both Andreev stated that such settlements usually evolve in areas that are sparse in water and lacking wood resources for construction, and in which the land is only partly arable and building materials are scarce. They are characterized by social homogeneity, and therefore contain no noble residences. Their conservative nature hinders processes of change, such as those of agricultural specialization, which in turn create social stratification. “Quasi-cities” are usually isolated from their surroundings; most of their inhabitants subsist on agriculture and their economy does not rely on a hinterland. The special characteristics of a settlement of the “quasi-city” type are accentuated when compared to another type of settlement, the “proto-city” (Mumford 1960: 230; Renfrew 1972: 402). By Mumford’s definition this is a highly populated village that has a cultic site in its center, serving a main source of attraction for its inhabitants. In the “proto city” there is a stable formation of heterogenic population, most of which does not deal directly with agriculture. Unlike the “quasi-city,” the “proto-city” is a settlement center for the surrounding villages, and sometimes a mature rank evolves between them. The more intricate the

160

alon shavit

settlement complex of the “proto-city” is, the more numerous the social roles that evolve in it, and the more evident the social heterogeneity becomes (Andreev 1989: 171). If indeed a settlement pattern of urban “city-villages” emerged in Philistia with no hinterland, it was an extraordinary model in the settlement landscape of the country. Today, fortifications and public buildings constitute most of the vestiges uncovered at Philistine cities. Only once a sufficient number of living quarters is excavated at these sites, will it be possible to understand their socioeconomic fabric. Due to vigorous urbanization the relationships between social strata in the large cities were fairly limited, and the elites did not hold a powerful control over the lower social strata. Hence, the majority of the population in these “city-villages” was rural, and prevailing living conditions and infrastructures resembled those of rural areas. Lacking a hinterland, this population supplied the elementary needs of the elite. Conclusions It seems that the settlement pattern that evolved in Philistia from the beginning of the Iron Age I and until the end of the 8th century BCE was influenced by a culture originating in the Aegean World. The emergence of urban centers with almost no surrounding hinterland is an exceptional phenomenon in the landscape of ancient Israel, yet it has parallels in Aegean settlement complexes dating to the end of the Bronze Age and the beginning of the Iron Age. The settlement pattern emerging from our survey bears relevance to the economic situation of the Philistine cities, Tel Miqne-Ekron, Tel ¶afit-Gath, Tel Ashdod, Tel Ashkelon, and Gaza. Lacking a traditional hinterland, the dwellers of these cities turned to a specialized economy, the products of which were marketed to distant geographical districts. For instance, pottery manufactured in the region of Tel Ashkelon was marketed to sites as far away as the settlement at Tel Malot (Shavit forthcoming). In the absence of a hinterland, the inhabitants of the Philistine cities probably also developed a reciprocal relationship with the Canaanite rural settlements that still remained within the borders of Philistia, in the vicinity of Tel Gezer and Tell el-Far{ah (S). These relationships made it possible for the city dwellers to attain a supply of basic natural products, and enabled diversity and expansion of the markets for products manufactured in the cities.

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

161

References Aharoni, Y. and Avi-Yonah, M. 1993. The Routes in Palestine. The Macmillan Bible Atlas (revised 3rd edition by Rainey, A. F. and Safrai, Z.). New York. Allen, M. J. 1997. Contested Peripheries: Philistia in the Neo-Assyrian World-System (Ph.D. dissertation, UCLA). California. Alt, A. 1953. Kleine Schriften zur Geschichte des Volkes Israel. Vol. 2. Munich. Andreev, Y. V. 1989. Urbanization as a Phenomenon of Social History. Oxford Journal of Archaeology 8: 167–177. Ben-Shlomo, D. 2003. The Iron Age Sequence of Tel Ashdod Tel Aviv 30: 83–107. Bennet, J. and Shelmerdine, C. W. 2001. Not the Palace of Nestor: The Development of the ‘Lower Town’ and Other Non-Palatial Settlements in LBA Messenia. In: Branigan, K., ed. Urbanism in the Aegean Bronze Age. Sheffield: 135–140. Bliss, F. J., Macalister, R. A. S., and Wünsch, R. 1902. Excavations in Palestine during the Years 1859–1937. London. Bunce, M. 1982. Rural Settlement in an Urban World. London. Bunimovitz, S. 1989. The Land of Israel in the Late Bronze Age: A Case Study for Sociocultural Change in a Complex Society (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv (Hebrew). ——. 1998. Sea Peoples in Cyprus and Israel: A Comparative Study of Immigration Processes. In: Gitin, S., Mazar, A., and Stern, E., eds. Mediterranean Peoples in Transition: Thirteenth to Early Tenth Centuries BCE: In Honor of Professor Trude Dothan. Jerusalem: 103–113. Carter, H. 1983. An Introduction to Urban Historical Geography. London. Dagan, Y. 1992. The Judean Shephela during the Monarchy Period in the Light of the Excavations and the Archaeological Survey (M.A. thesis, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv (Hebrew). ——. 2000. The Settlement in the Judean Shephela in the Second and First Millennia BC: A Test-Case of Settlement Processes in a Geographic Region (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv (Hebrew). Dan, Y. and Yaalon, D. 1976. The Formation and Distribution of Soils and Landscapes in Philistia. Studies in the Geography of Eretz-Israel 9: 36–74 (Hebrew). Dothan, M. and Ben-Shlomo, D. 2005. Ashdod VI. The Excavations of Areas H and K (1968–1969) Moshe Dothan and David Ben-Shlomo (IAA Reports 24). Jerusalem. Driessen, J. 2001. History and Hierarchy: Preliminary Observations on the Settlement Pattern of Minoan Crete. In: Branigan, K., ed. Urbanism in the Aegean Bronze Age. Sheffield: 51–71. Eitam, D. 1996. The Olive Oil Industry at Tel Miqne-Ekron in the Late Iron Age. In: Eitam, D. and Heltzer, M., eds. Olive Oil in Antiquity: Israel and Neighbouring Countries from the Neolithic to the Early Arab Period (History of the Ancient Near East Studies, Vol. 007) Padova: 167–196. Finkelstein, I. 1996. The Philistine Countryside. IEJ 46: 3–4, 225–242. ——. 2002a. Gezer Revisited and Revised. Tel Aviv 29: 262–296. ——. 2002b. The Philistines in the Bible: A Late Monarchic Perspective. JSOT 27/2: 131–167. Finkelstein, I. and Halpern, B. 1995. The Survey of the Megiddo Countryside (Lecture at a Special Session on the Archaeology of Megiddo). The ASOR/SBL Annual Meeting, Philadelphia. November 1995. Philadelphia. Finkelstein, I. and Singer-Avitz, L. 2001. Ashdod Revisited. Tel Aviv 28: 231–259. Fuchs, A. 1994. Die Inschriften Sargons: II: aus Khorsabad. Göttingen. Gazit, D. 1996. Archaeological Survey of Israel: Map of Urim (125). Jerusalem. Gitin, S. 1989 Tel Miqne-Ekron: A Type-Site for the Inner Coastal Plain in the Iron Age II Period. In: Gitin, S. and Dever, W. G., eds. Recent Excavations in Israel: Studies in Iron Age Archaeology (AASOR 49). Winona Lake, IA: 23–58.

162

alon shavit

Gophna, R. and Portugali, Y. 1988. Settlement and Demographic Processes in Israel’s Coastal Plain from the Chalcolithic to the Middle Bronze Age. BASOR 269: 11–28. Grossman, D. 1991. Processes and Factors Influencing Traditional Settlement Patterns in Israel. In: Katz, I., Ben-Arieh, Y., and Kaniel, Y., eds. Studies in Historical and Demographic Geography of Eretz-Israel. Vol. 2. Jerusalem: 28–47 (Hebrew). Grossman D. and Sonis, M. 1989. A Reinterpretation of Rank Size Rule: Examples from Western England and Southern Israel. Geography Research Forum 9: 67–108. Hesse, B. 1990. Pig Lovers and Pig Haters: Patterns of Palestinian Pork Production. Journal of Ethnobiology 10/2: 195–225. Hesse B. and Wapnish, P. 1997. Can Pig Remains Be Used for Ethnic Diagnosis in the Ancient Near East? In: Silberman, N. A. and Small, D., eds. The Archaeology of Israel: Constructing the Past, Interpreting the Present ( JSOT Supplement Series 237). Sheffield: 238–270. Hodder, I. and Orton, C. 1976. Spatial Analysis in Archaeology (New Studies in Archaeology 1). Cambridge. Humbert, J. B. 2000. Gaza: les richesses d’un antique carrefour. Le Monde de la Bible 127: 7–13. Ilan, D. 1999. Northeastern Israel in the Iron Age I: Cultural Socioeconomic and Political Perspectives (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. Japhet, S. 1993. I & II Chronicles: A Commentary. Louisville, KY. Johnson, G. A. 1981. Monitoring Complex System Integration and Boundary Phenomena with Settlement Size Data. In: van der Leeuw, S. E., ed. Archaeological Approaches to the Study of Complexity. Amsterdam: 144–187. ——. 1987. The Changing Organization of Uruk Administration on the Susiana Plain. In: Hole, F., ed. The Archaeology of Western Iran: Settlement and Society from Prehistory to the Islamic Conquest. Washington DC: 107–139. Kilian, K. 1990. Mycenaean Colonization: Norm and Variety. In: Descoeudres, J.-P., ed. Greek Colonists and Native Populations: Proceedings of the First Australian Congress of Classical Archaeology, Sydney, 9–14 July 1985. Canberra: 445–467. Kletter, R. 1999. Pots and Polities: Material Remains of Late Iron Age Judah in Relation to Its Political Borders. BASOR 314: 19–54. Lehmann, G. 2001. Phoenicians in Western Galilee: First Results of an Archaeological Survey in the Hinterland of Akko. In: Mazar, A., ed. Studies in the Archaeology of the Iron Age in Israel and Jordan. Sheffield: 65–112. Lev-Tov, J. S. E. Pigs, Philistines, and the Ancient Animal Economy of Ekron from the Late Bronze Age to the Iron Age II (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Tennessee). Knoxville, TN. Maeir, A. M. 1997. The Material Culture of the Central Jordan Valley during the Middle Bronze II Period: Pottery and Settlement Pattern. Vols. 1–2 (Ph.D. dissertation, Hebrew University). Jerusalem. ——. 2001. The Philistine Culture in Transformation: A Current Perspective Based on the Results of the First Seasons of Excavations at Tell es-Safi/Gath. In: Maeir, E. and Baruch, E., eds. Settlement, Civilization and Culture: Proceedings of the Conference in Memory of David Alon. Ramat Gan: 111–129 (Hebrew). ——. 2003. Notes and News: Tell es-Safi. IEJ 53/2: 237–246. Maeir, A. M. and Ehrlich, C. S. 2001. Excavating Philistine Gath: Have We Found Goliath’s Hometown? Biblical Archaeology Review 27/6: 22–31. Master, D. M. 2001. The Seaport of Ashkelon in the Seventh Century BCE: A Petrographic Study (Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University). Cambridge, MA. Mazar, A. 1990. Archaeology of the Land of the Bible: 10,000–586 BCE. New York. Mumford, L. 1960. Concluding Address. In: Kraeling, C. H. and Adams, R. M., eds. City Invincible: A Symposium on Urbanization and Cultural Development in the Ancient Near East Held at the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago, December 4–7, 1958. Chicago: 224–248.

settlement patterns of philistine city-states

163

Naxaman, N. 1986a. Borders and Districts in Biblical Historiography. Jerusalem. ——. 1986b. Hezekiah’s Fortified Cities and the lmlk Stamps. BASOR 261: 5–21. ——. 1986c. The Complex of Canaanite Kingdom Cities during the Late Bronze Age and the Israeli Inheritance. Tarbitz 55: 463–488. ——. 1991. The Kingdom of Judah under Josiah. Tel Aviv 18: 3–71. ——. 2002. In Search of Reality behind the Account of David’s Wars with Israel’s Neighbours. IEJ 52/2: 200–224. Neev, D. and Bakler, N. 1978. Young Tectonic Activities along the Israeli Coastline. In: Various Authors, Coast and Sea: Articles and Lectures. Tel Aviv (Hebrew). Netzer, E. 1994. Climate Changes during the Holocene and Their Impact on Landscape Formation in the Dan Region and on Human Settlement in the Area (Ph.D. dissertation, Bar-Ilan University). Ramat Gan (Hebrew). Ofer, A. 2001. The Monarchic Period in the Judaean Highland: A Spatial Overview. In: Mazar, A, ed. Studies in the Archaeology of the Iron Age in Israel and Jordan. Sheffield: 14–37. Portugali, Y. 1988. Population and Settlement Theories and Their Relevance to Demographic Studies in Israel. In: Bunimovitz, S., Kochavi, M., and Kasher, A., eds. Settlements, Population and Economy in Israel During Antiquity: Congress in Memory of Prof. Yohanan Aharoni, 6 March 1985. Tel Aviv: 4–38 (Hebrew). Pritchard, J. B., ed. 1950. Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament. Princeton. Pythian-Adams, W. J. 1923. Second Report on Soundings at Gaza. Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly Statement 56: 18–30. Renfrew, C. 1972. The Emergence of Civilisation: The Cyclades and the Aegean in the Third Millennium B.C. London. Rosen, A. M. 1996. Environmental Change and Settlement at Tel Lachish, Israel. BASOR 263: 55–60. Rutter, J. 1992. Cultural Novelties in the Post-Palatial Aegean World: Indices of Vitality or Decline? In: Ward, W. A. and Sharp-Joukowski, M., eds. The Crisis Years: The 12th Century BC: From Beyond the Danube to the Tigris. Dubuque, IA: 61–78. Schacht, R. M. 1984. The Contemporaneity Problem. American Antiquity 49: 678– 695. Schallin, A. L. 1996. The Berbati-Limnes Survey: The Late Helladic Period. In: Wells, B., ed. The Berbati-Limnes Archaeological Survey 1988–1990. Stockholm: 123–175. Sharon, A. 1983. The Rank of Sites in Eretz Israel. The Tenth Archaeological Congress in Israel: Lecture Abstracts. Jerusalem: 6. Shavit, A. 2000. Settlement Patterns in the Ayalon Valley in the Bronze and Iron Ages. Tel Aviv 27: 189–230. ——. 2003. Settlement Patterns in Israel’s Southern Coastal Plain during the Iron Age II (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. ——. Forthcoming. Salvage Excavation at Tel Malot. {Atiqot. Shavit, A. and Yasur-Landau, A. 2005. A Bronze and Iron Age Settlement at Netiv Ha-{Asara. Salvage Excavation Reports 2: 59–92. Shelmerdine, C. W. 1997. Review of Aegean Prehistory VI: The Palatial Bronze Age of the Southern and Central Greek Mainland. American Journal of Archaeology 101: 537–585. Singer, I. 1994. Egyptians, Canaanites, and Philistines in the Period of the Emergence of Israel. Finkelstein, I. and Naxaman, N., eds. From Nomadism to Monarchy: Archaeological and Historical Aspects of Early Israel. Jerusalem: 282–338. Small, D. B. 1998. Surviving the Collapse: The Oikos and Structural Continuity between Late Bronze Age and Late Greece. In: Gitin, S., Mazar, A., and Stern, E., eds. Mediterranean Peoples in Transition: Thirteenth to Early Tenth Centuries BCE: In Honor of Professor Trude Dothan. Jerusalem: 283–291.

164

alon shavit

Stager, L. E. 1995. The Impact of the Sea Peoples in Canaan (1185–1050 BCE). In: Levy, T. E., ed. The Archaeology of Society in the Holy Land. London: 332–348. ——. 1996a. Ashkelon and the Archaeology of Destruction: Kislev 604 BCE. EI 25: 61*–74*. ——. 1996b. The Fury of Babylon: Ashkelon and the Archaeology of Destruction. Biblical Archaeology Review 22/1: 56–68, 76–77. ——. Port Power in the Early and the Middle Bronze Age: The Organization of Maritime Trade and Hinterland Production. In: Wolff, S. R., ed. Studies in the Archaeology of Israel and Neighboring Lands in Memory of Douglas L. Esse. Chicago: 625–638. Stepansky, Y. 1999. The Periphery of Hazor during the Bronze Age, the Iron Age and the Persian Period: A Regional-Archaeological Study (M.A. thesis, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. Ussishkin, D. 1990. Notes on Megiddo, Gezer, Ashdod and Tel Batash in the Tenth to Ninth Centuries BC. BASOR 277–278: 71–91. Uziel, J. 2003. The Tell es-Safi Archaeological Survey (M.A. thesis, Bar-Ilan University). Ramat Gan. Uziel, J. and Maeir, A. M. 2005. Scratching the Surface at Gath: Implications of the Tell es-Safi/Gath Surface Survey. Tel Aviv 32: 50–75. Vaughn, A. G. 1999. Theology, History, and Archaeology in the Chronicler’s Account of Hezekiah. Atlanta, GA. Weiss, E. and Kislev, M. 2004. Plant Remains as Indicators for Economic Activity: A Case Study from Iron Age Ashkelon. Journal of Archaeological Science 31: 1–13. Yasur-Landau, A. 2002. Social Aspects of the Aegean Migration to the Levant in the Late Second Millennium BCE (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel Aviv. Yasur-Landau, A. and Shavit, A. 1998. Netiv Ha-{Asara. Hadashot Arkheologiyot 110: 102–104. Zimhoni, O. 1997. Studies in the Iron Age Pottery of Israel: Typological, Archaeological, and Chronological Aspects (Tel Aviv Journal Occasional Publications No. 2). Tel Aviv.

LEVANTINE STANDARDIZED LUXURY IN THE LATE BRONZE AGE: WASTE MANAGEMENT AT TELL ATCHANA (ALALAKH) Amir Sumaka i Fink ‫  רבי יוסי אומר כל שיש לו בית‬. . . ‫תנו רבנן איזה עשיר‬ (‫הכסא סמוך לשולחנו )בבלי שבת כ"ה ע"ב‬

When Sir Leonard Woolley decided in 1935 to launch a field project in the northern Levant he surveyed forty mounds along the Amuq and the Orontes Delta. Having selected four sites, he received permission to excavate one of them (al-Mina) and to dig sondages at three others including at Tell Atchana (Woolley 1937: 3–4). In the following year he conducted the first season at the site of Tell Atchana, a short ten-day mission in which two trenches were excavated. It was during that period of time that Woolley gave attention to the name of the site, noting that “on the French maps the mound is named Marouche and the tiny hamlet on its eastern end is called Atchana; Marouche is the name of a somewhat larger village half a mile away. Local use is divided between the two names, but on the whole Atchana seems the more generally employed” (Woolley 1936: 128, Note 2).1 Given the proximity of the site to the Orontes River it is surprising that the word Atchana literally means “parched with thirst,” “thirsty,” or even “desirous.” Furthermore, “thirsty” Atchana is just 800 meters away from Tell Ta yinat, a site whose name possibly derives from the Arabic word for spring or water source, perhaps reflecting a pre-modern notion

1 The spelling of the name Atchana is French. The original Arabic name is transliterated as A šäna, now commonly written in Turkish as Aççana or Açana. The Arabic name is the feminine singular form of ‫ َﻋ ْﻄﺸﺎن‬. Many of the sites in the Amuq (Amik in Turkish) carry both Turkish and Arabic names. Some of the names are translations from Arabic or Turkish names, homophonic to the Arabic name. I believe that this is the case with the Turkish name Varı lı, used today to denote the Atchana village as well as a larger village across the main road, north of the Antakya-Aleppo highway. It is most probable that Varı lı stands for the Arabic Marouche.

166

amir sumaka i fink

of how widely divergent the nature of these two nearby large mounds was.2 Yet, there is reason to believe that not only were the inhabitants of ancient Alalakh far from thirsty, they were also confident in the constant supply of water; so much so that they included bathrooms and restrooms, equipped with flush toilets, in many of their residences, more so than in any other excavated Levantine site. The vast majority of these Late Bronze Age restrooms were excavated by Woolley during the 1930s and 1940s, and he provided short descriptions of them, as well as related general plans (including some photos) in his final excavation report (Woolley 1955; see Appendix for detailed references). What may well be an additional restroom was unearthed in 2003 by the Oriental Institute, University of Chicago Tell Atchana (Alalakh) Expedition (Yener et al. 2004a: 2; 2004b: 28–29; 2005: 48, Fig. 4).3 With the exception of the Level IV palace bathrooms and restrooms, all of the restrooms excavated by Woolley were either removed or destroyed when a farmhouse was built on the excavation site following the completion of Woolley’s project, hence the unique significance of the recently excavated restroom. This restroom sheds further light on the ones previously excavated, and serves as an excellent point of departure for discussing these rooms and their function. Following a brief review of restrooms and toilets excavated throughout the Near East, I discuss the blueprint and structure of these facilities as they pertain to Tell Atchana, and especially the restroom excavated there during the 2003 season.4 At the center of my paper are restrooms, 2 ‫ َﻋ ْﲔ‬. Nevertheless, Wehr Dictionary defines it as plural of ‫ ﺗَ ْﻌﻴِﲔ‬meaning “nomination, appointment, stipulation, allotment, apportionment, assignment, allocation, appropriation; ration, food.” Interestingly, water pumped from a well located at the foothills of Ta’yinat is considered drinkable by the villagers, while that pumped right by Atchana is considered to be bad water. I did not check whether both wells are of the same depth and nature. 3 The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago conducted full-scale excavations at Tell Atchana during the summers and falls of 2003 and 2004. K. A. Yener was the director of the project with J. D. Schloen as the associate director and the present author as the senior field supervisor. All information, data, photos, and plans of the Oriental Institute excavations at Tell Atchana (Alalakh) appearing in this paper were previously published in the articles listed in the reference list and/or in the of the 2004 and 2005 Kazi Sonuçlari Toplantisi; 2004 and 2005 ASOR Annual Meeting; 2004 Annual Meeting of the Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University; and the 2005 AIA Annual Meeting. 4 I use the term toilet to describe the installation. In this paper, I distinguish between a “restroom” in which the toilet is located, and a “bathroom” in which bathing or washing takes place. The terms lavatory and latrine are used in some of the literature interchangeably to describe the toilet installation.

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

167

not bathrooms, for most of the washing facilities found in Tell Atchana clearly functioned as restrooms (whereas flush-toilet restrooms may have functioned also as bathrooms, the latter are less likely to have functioned as restrooms). The construction of a restroom or a bathroom requires several technological capabilities in addition to some manipulation of water supply for washing, cleaning, and flushing purposes. Indeed, building restrooms entails considerably detailed planning before the construction of the building can take place, owing to the special architectural features that characterize them, namely a drain, channels running under floors and through walls, waterproof walls and floors, bathtubs, toilet basins or foot-stands,5 and cesspits. Moreover, constructing a restroom necessitates an intimate knowledge of engineering and building materials, and an understanding of the nature of local soils. Builders need to ensure that at least one of the walls of the room is an external one or else to rely on an advanced sewage system that drains the water under the floors or through several walls. They also have to see to it that the floor and drain pipes are sufficiently sloped for the sewage to drain off the floor, and to prevent the drain system from clogging. Furthermore, they need to use appropriate hydraulic plaster or bitumen in order that the waste water does not end up damaging the walls and floors (Forbes 1964: 74–80). Finally, only certain soils are adequate to carry a cesspit, especially without polluting a nearby well. Obviously, a host of additional considerations must have guided the ancient builder, many of which are unknown to us—the excavators of ancient toilets. These might have included religious conventions, the way the ancients conceptualized hygiene, idiosyncratic traditions, and superstitions. The few instances in which such “bathroom codes” have come down to us—through ethnoarchaeology or textual records—make it clear that it would be an extremely difficult task to figure out many of the intentions of the ancients regarding the respective location of the toilet. For instance, Ragette recounts the twelve rules in a Muslim legal pronouncement ( fatwa) about toilets (Ragette 2003: 73), emphasizing that “they clearly address themselves to life in a non-built environment and contain pre-Islamic elements:

5 This is the term used by Woolley to describe the two parallel brick-plastered footstools on which one would squat while using these toilets (Woolley 1955: 118).

168

amir sumaka i fink Do not squat in the view of people Do not squat over a container Do not face the quibla Do not turn your back towards Mecca Do not squat against the sun or the moon Do not turn the back against the sun or the moon Remain silent Do not spit Do not blow your nose Use a stone only three times (in place of water or sand) Clean yourself with the left hand Do not observe your excrement.

More contemporaneous with the Tell Atchana toilets is a Hittite instruction text that deals with human excrement (KUB 31.100). The text is in poor condition, opening the door to different interpretations. Hoffner, who considers the text to be the “protocol of the king’s wastes,” translates KUB 31.100 rev. 8–10 as follows: Be ye very careful with regards to the matter of (royal) defecation! Let not the king [relieve himself (?)] up in Hattusha. Rather let the king [go] down to the great huššili! (Hoffner 1972: 131)

Whereas Hoffner understands this text to constitute a religious ban on locating a restroom in the royal palace at Hattusha, Ünal suggests that the text provides guidelines to the use of all excrements for fertilization rather than disposing of them in the city: [Let them] not [go up] to the mountain [and] de[fecate there] into [the big clay pi]t(?). Do not remo[ve the excrements either] into the [city of Hatt]uša. [ Now be] very diligent in matters of defecation. [ Moreov]er do not e[mpty] (the ashes of ) the hearths into the city of Hattuša. Carry (the content of ) the hearths down to the big clay pit. Moreover, whatever water containers there may be [in the area of ] the palace, wherever they may be, [fix them] and have all of (their bottoms) paved with stone and make them smooth and stable. Whatever vineyards and orcha[rds you own], up [there you may defecate(?)]. [Let them] turn/carry all [the excrement(??)] to the orchards(?). (Ünal 1993: 131–134)

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

169

Sitting Toilets and Squat Toilets Bathrooms and toilets are widely attested in the ancient Near East from the third millennium BCE on, and their existence and evolution are clearly connected with the development of complex societies ( Jansen 1989; Krafeld-Daughetry 1994: 94–117; Angelakis et al. 2005: 213–214). Before the Roman period almost all restrooms were found in palatial contexts or in buildings that imitate regal luxury. Although most of the ancient Near Eastern toilets were squat toilets,6 sitting toilets are known from various pre-Roman sites, and many of the third millennium BCE Mesopotamian restrooms included sitting toilets, which may suggest that they predated squat toilets. Some of the best examples of the former were unearthed in Tell Beydar and Tell Asmar.7 While squatting is a more natural posture, sitting toilets are, apparently, as ancient as thrones. As for Middle and Late Bronze Ages examples: These are probably attested in the Level VII palace at Tell Atchana (see Appendix), at Tell el Ajjul,8 and recently at Hazor.9 Iron Age Levantine examples are found at Jerusalem, Tell es-Sa idiyeh, and at Buseirah (Bennet 1974: 8–9; Cahill et al. 1991; Tubb and Dorrell 1993: 55–56). Sometime it is impossible to determine whether a toilet built of two foot-stands and a draining channel was used as a squat or sitting toilet. In cases where the foot-stands are low, there can be little doubt that these are squat toilets. Less clear-cut cases include an example from Nuzi (Fig. 1), in which the foot-stands are 0.4–0.45 m high and 0.1–0.15 m apart (Starr 1937–39: Vol. 1: 61, 163). The same consideration should be made for the toilets excavated in Ešnunna, Tellō, and Knossos (Krafeld-Daughetry 1994: 97–109; Angelakis et al. 2005: 6 Squatting is the natural toilet posture for all healthy human beings. Once toddlers can squat, squatting becomes their main toilet position. It is only through the process of toilet training that most toddlers in the western world learn to sit while using the toilet. 7 See the detailed discussion and bibliography of third-millennium Mesopotamian sitting toilets in Van der Stede 2003: 189–202; Lebeau 2005: 101, 105. 8 Petrie reports two bathrooms: one in Palace I and the other in Palace II. Only the one in Palace II was clearly equipped with a toilet: “On the south side of the room was the cesspit. There had evidently been a stone seat here, as the marks of it remain” (Petrie 1932: 4). Petrie also reports on finding a toilet seat out of context in Palace I (Petrie 1932: 3–4, Pls. XLV, XLVI, XLIII). 9 The Hebrew University Expedition at Tel Hazor excavated in Area M a complex installation with several cesspits, which were connected by drains. What may well be a toilet seat was found nearby ex situ. I am grateful to S. Zuckerman for this information (personal communication).

170

amir sumaka i fink

212–213).10 Examples of squat toilets were found in third-millennium layers at Tell Asmar and Hamoukar (Hill 1967: 144, 175, Pls. 70, 75; Krafeld-Daughetry 1994: 109–117).11 They are also attested in second-millennium palaces and private houses in Mari (Parrot 1936: Pl. III/2; Krafeld-Daughetry 1994: 111), Ugarit (Calvet and Geyer 1987: 135–147; Yon 1992: 29),12 Nuzi (Starr 1937–1939: Vol. 1: 61, 163; Vol. 2: Pls. 13–15), and at other sites (e.g., Margueron 1982: 398, Fig. 272). In some of the sites it is impossible to determine whether the room functioned as a bathroom, restroom, or both, since only the floors and drains were preserved.13 The Toilets Excavated by Woolley The number of well-preserved bathrooms and restrooms at Tell Atchana is extraordinary in comparison to that found at any other Middle or Late Bronze Age Levantine site. At least 16 of them were excavated by Woolley, of which 14 were equipped with toilets, all of similar design and apparatus. At Alalakh Levels VI-I there was a single standard for bathrooms and restrooms, which was used ubiquitously: in palaces, temples, and in upscale private houses. This standard closely followed that of the palace bathrooms, restrooms, and toilets (Fig. 2), imitating it to the level that each builder could afford.14 Aspects of building that

10 The Minoan toilets consist of a wooden or stone “seat,” which was set parallel to a back wall. I believe it is more likely that this “seat” functioned as a squatting board rather than as the seat of a sitting toilet. Angelakis et al. (2005) suggest that the Knossos toilet “is probably the first flush toilet in the history.” Obviously, many of the Mesopotamian examples are earlier in date. 11 I thank Dr. C. Reichel of the Oriental Institute for sharing with me photos of unpublished third-millennium BCE squat toilets excavated at Hamoukar in 1999. 12 It is likely that both in Hazor and in Ugarit the toilets were placed underneath or near the stairs. This practice is a long-standing tradition, well attested in sites such as Abu Salabikh, Ur, Isin-Larsa, and Tell ed-Der; see Postgate 2000: 251. Could this be instrumental to understanding the description of the palace of the king of Moab in Judges 3:20–25, whether fictional or true? 13 Ablution Room 3 at the Mitanni palace of Tell Brak may fall under this definition; see Oates et al. 1997: 4–6; see also the index in Margueron 1982 under installations hygiéniques, sanitaires; latrines; salle à ablutions; salle de bains—d’eau, and Naumann 1971: 197–203. 14 I am not suggesting here that all the buildings/houses in Alalakh were equipped with baths and/or toilets. As shown by McClellan (1997), the “private” houses of Alalakh are on average almost twice as big as the average excavated domestic structure in any other “North Syrian” site. In size, structure, and nature of finds, many of Alalakh’s “private” houses resemble small palaces. This unique state of affairs can be explained,

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

171

were clearly standardized are the blueprint and dimensions of the bathrooms and restrooms, the structure of the walls and floors of these rooms, as well as the way toilets and drains were designed.15 The lack of running water meant that for all bathrooms and restrooms, water for bathing, washing, and flushing had to be carried in vessels from a well or perhaps from the Orontes River, several hundred meters away. Unique among the excavated bathrooms and restrooms at Tell Atchana is the earliest one, unearthed in the Middle Bronze Level VII palace. The similarity in plan between the Levels VI-I bathrooms and restrooms points to the existence of continuity throughout these levels, a fact well emphasized in Woolley’s description of other aspects of the “private” houses at the site (Woolley 1955: 172–200). Blueprint and Dimensions The standard blueprint for a bathroom and restroom combination is linear with a dead-end. On the way to the restroom, one would have to pass through the bathroom. But while the restroom was a “blind room” accessible only through the bathroom, the latter was connected also to a third room. The following pairs of rooms were built according to such a plan: Level IV: palace rooms 9 and 5 (Figs. 2, 3), rooms 15 and (probably) 14, rooms 25 and 26, rooms 30 and 31 (less likely); Level II: house 39/C, rooms 6 and 7, rooms 9 and 10; Level I: house 38/A.16 The toilets are always located as far from the doorway of the restroom as possible, and against an external wall, through which a drain evacuated the waste to the street. The only exceptions are (1) room 18 at Level IV, house 39/C, from which, according to Woolley’s reconstruction, waste was disposed into room 20; and (2) rooms 5 and 14 in the Niqmepa Palace, from which waste was disposed into cesspits, which were covered by or even incorporated into double walls. in part, by the following circumstance: (1) All the “private” houses which were excavated by Woolley were located just southeast of the palace and temple compound, the second-best location in the city, at least from a geopolitical perspective; and (2) the floor area of some of the “private” houses is clearly oversized for a Late Bronze Age site of 21 ha, unless Alalakh was originally considerably bigger than we are currently able to tell. In view of Tell Atchana’s location in the midst of the alluvial plain of the Orontes River, which is subject to annual flooding, it is possible that a large lower town is buried under meters of sediments. 15 The Appendix unites Woolley’s records concerning the bathrooms and restrooms— data on which the discussion above is based. 16 I find it remarkable that the restrooms of the Level II and I houses closely resemble those of the Level IV palace.

172

amir sumaka i fink

Bathrooms are always larger than restrooms. The average area of a Level IV palace bathroom is 14.38 m2 and the average area of a bathroom in a private house is 11.17 m2, while the average area of a Level IV palace restroom is 9.32 m2 and the average area of a restroom in the “private” houses and the temple area is 5.45 m2. Floors and Walls The floors of all restrooms are made of what Woolley called cement (hydraulic plaster) or concrete (same plaster with small crushed stones). Most of the floors of the restrooms at the palace slope toward the drain. In some, a circular depression was found in the floor, most probably used to hold a round-bottomed water jar (room 9 in Level IV, house 37; room 1 in Level II, house 37/C). The floors of the bathrooms are either made of clay (sometime overlaid with so-called white cement) or cement (hydraulic plaster). The walls of the palace restrooms were all lined with basalt slabs (orthostats, 0.42–0.65 m high), which were covered with a coat of cement (plaster). Beams rested on top of these slabs, and on top of the beams mudbrick walls were erected. A second set of beams was placed at 1.3–1.4 m above the floor. In most cases, the beams and the bricks were plastered with hydraulic plaster, similar to the one that coated the floors and the orthostats. Woolley’s descriptions of the walls of the palace bathrooms are similar to his depiction of the walls of the palace restrooms. When at all preserved, walls of the domestic and temple restrooms are all reportedly plastered, featuring neither basalt orthostats nor beams. In several cases we find that instead of basalt orthostats seen in the palace, a more affordable dado of baked tiles was used, and then plastered with the rest of the wall; in one case (room 1 of Level II, house 37/C) each dado tile measured 0.27 m2 and was 5 cm thick. Woolley reports that in some restrooms he observed several layers of re-plastering of both floors and walls. Toilets and Drains All toilets found in Tell Atchana Levels VI-I are identical. These squat toilets feature two foot-stands, 0.3 m high, both made of mudbricks and covered with the same plaster used for the coating of the floors and the walls (Fig. 3). In one case (room 7 in Level II, house 39/C), Woolley

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

173

reports that the foot-stand consisted of three courses of bricks. Situated between every pair of foot-stands was a plastered channel, sloping into the drain. The drains carried the waste either to the street, through the wall, or to a cesspit that was built under the foundations of the building (all the drains of the Level IV palace). One of these cesspits (next to room 26 of the palace) is described by Woolley as a “vertical shaft contrived in the stone of the foundations thickly plastered with cement.” Most drains were plastered as well; some were made of bricks that were positioned in a V shape (e.g., room 10 of Level II, house 39/C) and others were made of several sections of ceramic ring-like vessels (e.g., room 14 of Level IV, house 37), or simply consisted of an elongated ceramic pipe. One of these elongated pipes was recorded by Woolley as AT/46/268. This pipe is 0.658 m long, and has a diameter of 0.155 m. The original object card states that the pipe was found in a Level IV “lavatory” in Square N16, which is the entrance to the Level IV temple.17 The nearest reported restroom is in Square L16. Woolley connected this restroom to the Level IV temple and claimed to have found there “a well-preserved terra-cotta drain pipe.” The latter, then, may possibly be the same as the one recorded on the original object card. A Restroom Excavated by the University of Chicago Expedition During the 2003 season, the Oriental Institute Expedition excavated a plastered room (03-2092) that resembles in many ways the restrooms excavated by Woolley. Unearthed in Area 2 in Square 44.45, less than 0.5 m under the top soil, the room belongs to Local Phase 2 (Figs. 4 and 5),18 and is part of a large residence, which was excavated in Squares 44.45, 44.54, and 44.55.19 The Expedition also unearthed four rooms belonging to this large building, which extends, as of now, over 275 m2. 17 Nowadays, the Tell Atchana object cards are housed at the University College, London, Special Collections. I am grateful to E. Struble for drawing my attention to the above-mentioned card. 18 The dating of Area 2, Local Phase 2 is being studied in these very days. Nevertheless, it is safe to say that it dates to the Late Bronze Age. 19 Area 2 was supervised by A. S. Fink; Square 44.45 was supervised by K. S. Burke.

174

amir sumaka i fink

The plastered room (Figs. 6 and 7) is 2 m wide, and 2.65 m long (floor area of 5.3 m2). It has two doorways; one faces southeast and leads to a blind alley (through Threshold 03-2123), the other, featuring a plastered step, opens to the northwest, facing to the same corridor as does Room 03-2077. A drain (03-2039; Figs. 8 and 9), built in Wall 03-2091 (Fig. 10), drained the waste from the plastered room toward the northeastern slope, and hence, Wall 03-2091 marks the northern outer wall of the building. Threshold 03-2123 is 1.6 m long, 0.75 m wide, and comprises two rows of mudbricks. Several broken vessels, along with the door socket, were found on and next to the threshold. Wall 03-2091 is 3 m long and 1.1 m wide, and none of its mudbricks has been preserved. The excavators were able to identify the wall only by the presence of (1) two lines of stone foundations that mark its northern and southern edges (the stone foundation of this wall, as of many other walls at Tell Atchana, underlies only its outline and does not cover its full width), and (2) Drain 03-2039, which was built in the wall. A wall stub (03-2111) abutting Wall 03-2091 from the southwest is 1.1 m long, 1 m wide, and it was preserved to the height of 0.22 m. The area left between 03-2111 and 03-2073 is 1 m wide and functions as the northwestern entrance to the plastered room.20 This entrance consists of at least one plastered step ascending to the room, and possibly even two. The Drain (Figs. 8, 9, 10) The length of the drain is similar to that of the wall (1.2 m), and its width is 0.6 m. The channel of the drain was made of stone and plastered with material similar to the one used for the plastered floor of Room 03-2092. Fieldstones and large sherds were used to cover and protect the plastered channel running through the wall. The difference in elevation between the highest point (the southwestern side) of the interior of the drain channel (Locus 03-2121) and the lowest one (the northeastern side) is 6 cm.

20

The restroom (room 9) of the Level IV house 37 likewise has two doorways.

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

175

The Floor and Dado The plastered floor (03-2109) of Room 03-2092 is mostly preserved in the southwestern part of the room, but there are indications that it covered the entire room. The building process of this plastered floor included the facing of Walls 03-2073 and 03-2091 with ceramic tiles (dado). There is a height difference of 0.11 m between the uppermost and lowermost elevations of Floor 03-2109, now mostly broken and cracked. Most of its surface slopes toward the drain. The Finds Locus 03-2092—its top elevation 0.24 m higher than its bottom elevation—is the occupational debris of this room. Several finds were collected from this locus, among which are a glass bead (R03-1775), a copper alloy object (R03-1819), a clay stopper (R03-1878), and a restorable ceramic vessel (R03-2063). Most probably, the vessels and the objects found in Locus 03-2040, located immediately above 03-2092, were also related to Floor 03-2109. The vessels and objects were found just 0.25–0.3 m above this plastered floor, with no association to other floors. Among them are a ceramic juglet that was restored (R03-1542; Fig. 11), a plate that has been partially restored (R03-1851; Fig. 12), and objects, R03-1390, R03-1391, R03-1394, R03-1395, R03-1453, and R03-1691 that will all be discussed in the future excavation report. The state of preservation of Room 03-2092 is such that no traces of a toilet (i.e. foot-stands and a channel) were found, nor was any plaster found near the mouth of the drain. Nonetheless, it is likely that the room did function as a restroom: Its overall size, 5.3 m2, corresponds to the average size of restrooms as discussed above. Furthermore, a plastered floor, dado around the walls, and a plastered drain built into the wall—all the features expected to be found in a bathroom—were unearthed in this room. Moreover, the building in which the room was excavated shares many of the characteristics of the more elaborate private houses in which toilets were indeed found. These residences are located immediately to the north of the house under consideration. This restroom is a modest addition to the repertory of such facilities already excavated by Woolley. In light of the fact that all the restrooms excavated by Woolley in private houses were removed in the course of excavation, Restroom 03-2092 permits us to study in some depth such important aspects as its architectural design and the composition

176

amir sumaka i fink

of the plaster, and allows a comparison to the restrooms that are still intact in the Level IV palace. The finding of this and other restrooms in varying degrees of preservation is of outmost importance for anyone wishing to gain further insight into the social structure and household practices of Alalakh.

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

177

APPENDIX WOOLLEY’S RECORDS OF TOILETS, RESTROOMS, AND BATHROOMS AT TELL ATCHANA21 Level VII, Palace, Rooms 15, 18 Size Room 15 Room 18

4.1 × 4.2 (17.22 m2) Larger than 75 m2

Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains Room 15 The drain intake was a flat stone with two holes in it, sunk flush with the very good cement and concrete floor. In the east corner of the room, sunk in the floor but rising 0.2 m above it, was a terra cotta tank, reinforced externally with cement. Room 18 Against the southeastern wall was a large basalt basin or trough with a spout, in front of which a flat stone with a round intake hole was let into the floor. Below it was a stone-built drain, which connected with that from room 15 and with another from the outlet of the basin corner of room 18 and then went out through the doorway, under the corridor, and through the city wall to empty on the glacis. The basin in the east corner was sunk flush with the floor and had its outlet on the northwestern side; between it and the face of the southeastern wall there was a gap filled with cement, which was worked up to a smooth face and brought down in a curve over the edge of the stone; in the flat surface there was a shallow, circular depression intended as a stand for a large, round-bottomed vessel; between the basin and the northeastern wall there was a similar cement ledge, raised slightly above floor level, in which there were two shallow, oblong depressions sloping downwards from the wall, and with outlets to the basin, very much like the soap-troughs of the modern pedestal wash-basin.

21 Texts quoted, with minor adaptations, from Woolley 1955. Exact references are given below where appropriate.

178

amir sumaka i fink

Floor Room 15 The room has a smooth concrete floor, much depressed along the northwest by reason of the sinking of the wall foundations; round the drain-intake the floor sloped (intentionally) down to it. Room 18 A floor of concrete was laid rather thinly over clay; it was well preserved at the northeastern end of the room, but over the southwestern half there were only traces of concrete, and the surface (to which the wall plaster went down) was of clay. Walls Room 15 Three basalt orthostats were set right against the southeastern wall right by the drain intake, obviously to protect it from water/humidity. Room 18 Walls of plain plaster, which were much ruined, were standing to a maximum height of 1.25 m on the northwest and 0.4 m on the southeast. Finds Room 15 A bronze dagger, AT/39/203, Type Kn. 4; a bronze spearhead, AT/39/202, Type Sp. 3; a clay bowl, ATP/39/157c, Type 21b, and a saucer of coarse gray clay, Type 3. Room 18 Found on the floor in a layer of ashes were a bronze pin, AT/39/246, Type P. 9; a bronze sickle-shaped blade, AT/39/228, Type as on Pl. LXXIV, and fragments of the haft of a riveted bronze blade; a serpentine pestle or rubber, AT/39/227; a fragment of glazed frit with a hand in relief, AT/39/234; a quantity of grain; and fragments of clay vessels of Types 15, 93b, 104b, 106b, and 132a. Reference Woolley 1955: 95, 103–104; Plan: Woolley 1955: 93–94: Fig. 35; Pl. XIX a, b.

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

179

Level VI, Fortress? Square U8 Size 1.7 × 2+ Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains The floor sloped sharply to the south, where there were two cemented foot-stands, 0.3 m high, with the usual cemented channel between them. Floor Sunken cement floor; immediately against the eastern foot-stand was a raised mud floor, cut away by the Niqmepa Palace. Walls Cemented walls Finds No information Woolley’s Definition A small lavatory Reference Woolley 1955: 157; Plan: Woolley 1955: 152: Fig. 57. Level V Temple, Two Rooms in Square N13; A Drain in Squares M13, N13 Size Southeastern room 2.3 × 2.8 (6.44 m2) Northwestern room 2.2 × 2.8 (6.16 m2)

180

amir sumaka i fink

Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains Bathroom: terra cotta drain through its northwestern wall, clear of the adjoining lavatory Floor Lavatories: cemented floors; bathroom: cemented floor Walls Cemented walls Finds

No information Woolley’s Definition Two lavatories of normal type and remains of a bathroom(?) Reference Woolley 1955: 70; Plan: Woolley 1955: 67: Figs. 29a, 29b. Level IV, southeast of Temple, Square L16 Size 1.4 × 2.2 (3.08 m2) Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains Out of the hole between the two standing blocks (foot-stands) led a well-preserved terra cotta drain pipe, which must have run through the wall (not preserved).

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

181

Floor Rectangular floor of very good cement; two standing blocks in its northern corner Walls None preserved. The chamber seems to have been sunk. Finds No information Woolley’s Definition An isolated lavatory Stratigraphical Note Immediately below the oldest Level III floor Reference Woolley 1955: 69. Level IV Palace, Rooms 5, 9 Size Room 5 Room 9

1.8 × 4.5 (8.1 m2) 2.8 × 4.5 (12.6 m2)

Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains Room 5 Against the northern wall; two brick foot-stands, 0.32 m high, which had been cement plastered time after time, all edges and corners being carefully rounded; the passage between them and the hole through the wall which continued it were cement faced.

182

amir sumaka i fink

Floor Room 5 Made of white cement throughout; sloped fairly sharply from all directions to the drain. Room 9 Clay floor, overlaid with white cement, sinking towards the middle.

Walls Room 5 Lined with quarry-dressed basalt slabs, which were covered with a coat of cement and renewed more than once. Timber baulk was laid over the stones with the mudbrick above, and the whole was cement plastered. Room 9 Lined with 0.47-m-high basalt orthostats; their bottoms flush with the floor; faced with cement plaster of which five distinct coats could be distinguished. Finds Room 5 On the floor were bowls of Types 15 and 4b; a fragment of a jug Type 41b. Twenty cm above the floor was part of a BaseRing jug. Room 9 In the northeastern corner was a rectangular terra cotta bath or box, 0.4 m high, with two loop handles at each end. On the floor lay part of a goblet of Type 118a; bowl of Type 11; and a saucer of Type 3b. Fifty cm above the floor were three saucers of Type 3b; a vase of Type 104; and a milk-bowl. At the doorway between rooms 9 and 10 tablet ATT/38/2 was found. Woolley’s Definition Room 5 Room 9

A normal lavatory A bath

The Doorways Room 5 The door had a wooden frame only. Room 9 A wooden plank, a step up of 0.18 m high, formed the entrance from room 10 to room 9.

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

183

Reference Woolley 1955: 118–120; Plans: Woolley 1955: 113: Fig. 44; 115: Fig. 45; 118: Fig. 48b; Pls. XXVa, XXVb, XXVIa. Level IV Palace, Rooms 14–15 Size Room 14 Room 15

1.9 × 3.3(?) (6.27 m2) 3.3 × 3.9 (12.87 m2)

Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains Room 14 The drain had its foot-stands of burnt brick overlaid with cement, and the cement-lined pipe going out through the wall.

Floor Room 14 A cement floor sloped from every direction down to the drain. Room 15 The cement floor was higher than that of room 14; from it there was a cement-faced step down to the threshold and a second from the threshold to room 14. Walls Room 14 The walls were lined with basalt orthostats, 0.42 m high, covered with cement plaster that was taken down to the floor in a rolled skirting. Judging by the fallen fragments the whole wall had been cement plastered, but none was left actually on the brick surface. Room 15 The walls were lined with basalt orthostats of varying heights (usually laid lengthwise). All were concealed by a coating of cement above which, over the brickwork, was mud plaster showing no traces of cement.

184

amir sumaka i fink

Finds Room 14 The bases of three Nuzi goblets of Type 118; a Base-Ring ware jug; a burnished, red tripod bowl of Type 161; two burnished, red bowls of Type 21, and at least three examples of Type 3. Room 15 On the floor: a bronze vase, AT/38/62 (Pl. LXXIV); a bronze knife, AT/38/63, Type Kn. 4; a stone bowl; fragments of a milk-bowl; fragments of two goblets of Type 118: one plain, one painted Nuzi ware; a jug of Type 68; a ring-stand of Type 85; a jar of Type 110; bowls of Types 6, 15, 94, and 163, and about 14 examples of Type 3. Woolley’s Definition Room 14 Room 15

A lavatory A bath

Notes Concerning the Blueprint The destruction of the southeastern corner of room 15 meant that it was impossible to be sure of the position of the door, but if it was, in fact, in the west wall, then rooms 14, 15, and 16 would have been an exact parallel to the suite 10, 9, and 5. In both cases there was an inner lavatory; a central room with orthostats and cemented walls, which could have been a bathroom; and a larger room—a bedroom or a store chamber. Reference Woolley 1955: 121; Plans: Woolley 1955: 113: Fig. 44; 115: Fig. 45. Level IV Palace, Rooms 25–26 Size Room 25 3.1 × 5.7 (17.67 m2) Room 26 3.1 × 3.6 (11.6 m2)

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

185

Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains Room 26 The latrine in the northwestern corner had foot-stands of burnt brick originally lime plastered; the channel between them sloped down into the wall thickness, where a vertical shaft was contrived in the stone of the foundations, both channel and shaft being thickly plastered with cement. Floor

Room 25 A floor of very fine clay, which may have had lime wash over it but was not cement finished. Room 26 A concrete floor made of cement and small crushed stones. Walls Room 25 The wall had a stone-foundation course almost flush with the floor, on which were basalt orthostats, 0.65 m high, which appear to have been rather roughly cut, and had certainly not been polished; they were covered with white cement. A longitudinal beam rested on the stones with brickwork above the second beam at 1.3–1.4 m above the floor, with no transverse timbers; the wall face had been mud plastered and lime washed. Room 26 The walls were lined with basalt orthostats, 0.6 m high, covered with white cement; no walling remained above the stones, all having been cut away by the Level III builders.

Finds Room 25 Room 26

One tablet was found, ATT/38/67. On the floor were tablets ATT/38/68–71.

Wooley’s Definition Room 25 Room 26

A bath A lavatory

186

amir sumaka i fink

Reference Woolley 1955: 123–124; Plans: Woolley 1955: 113: Fig. 44; 115: Fig. 45. Level IV Palace, Room 31 Size 2.7 × 4.2 (11.34 m2)

Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains The lavatory foot-stands were of cement-plastered burnt brick. Floor

The doorway had a wooden seal 0.10 m above the floor of room 30, and the rest of the floor, which was of concrete (lime and small stone chips), was flush with it. Walls

The walls up to 0.35 m were of rough stone, cement-plastered; above that was a longitudinal beam and then mudbrick, mud-plastered and lime-washed, with no further timbering. Finds

Part of an ivory toilet box lid with engraved rosette pattern, AT/38/178; fragments of a vase of variegated glass, AT/38/176; pottery fragments including those of: a Nuzi goblet, ATP/38/143; two items of painted example of Type 94b, ATP/38/142; plain examples of Types 3, 41, 48, 60, and 69; and of many large jugs and handled jars, too fragmentary to be typed. Woolley’s Definition A lavatory

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

187

Reference

Woolley 1955: 126; Plans: Woolley 1955: 113: Fig. 44; 115: Fig. 45. Level IV, Building 37, Room 9 Size 1.9 × 3.1 (5.89 m2) Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains Two foot-stands against the wall; an exit of terra cotta pipes running out through the wall into the street (between the house and the town wall). Floor Cement; a circular depression in the floor to hold a round-bottomed water jar. Walls Cement plastered; two entrances Finds A red, burnished libation pourer AT/37/225 (Pl. CXXVa); a three-handled flask ATP/37/340, Type 44c; Type 55a vessels; Type 68c vessels; a beaker: the upper part painted reddish-brown and burnished, Type 94a; a beaker of light red ware with five bands of dark red paint ATP/37/310, Type 94a; Type 99c vessels; Type 103a vessels; Base-Ring ware I jug ATP/37/307 (Pl. CXXVe).

Woolley’s Definition A lavatory of normal type

188

amir sumaka i fink

Description of the Destruction Well preserved; all finds lay in a bed of 0.1 m of wood ash, containing fragments of heavy beams above which came the decomposed mudbrick of the walls. Reference Woolley 1955: 177; Plan: Woolley 1955: 176: Fig. 62.

Level IV, Building 37, Room 14 Size 3.1 × 5.2 (16.12 m2) Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains Terra cotta drain made of five sections of a clay ring-stand of Type 84c under the southeastern wall. Floor Concrete; the rough stones that were in the intake seem to have been the foundations for foot-stands. Walls No information Finds A fragment of a Base-Ring ware jug, Type BM 24 Woolley’s Definition The room was unduly large for a lavatory and there may have been there a different type of drain, possibly a washing basin.

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh) Reference Woolley 1955: 178; Plan: Woolley 1955: Fig. 62. Level IV, Building 39/C, Room 18 Size 1.8 × 4.2 (7.56 m2) Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains Running out through the southwestern wall Floor Cement Walls No information Finds Two cylinder seals were found: AT/39/201 and AT/39/205. Woolley’s Definition A normal lavatory Reference Woolley 1955: 182; Plan: Woolley 1955: Fig. 64.

189

190

amir sumaka i fink Level II, Building 37/C, Room 1

Size 1.6 × 5.1 (8.16 m2) Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains The foot-rests (foot-stands) were of tiles, plastered, with a brick-lined drain through the wall. The sinking of the floor, which makes the drain run in the wrong direction, is due to later accident. Floor Cement over clay. A large clay jar for water was let into the pavement (only the lower part of which was preserved). The pavement stopped at the threshold of the door to room 3 but continued across the threshold of the door to room 2. Walls A dado of cement-plastered tiles was set on (the wall’s) edge; the tiles measured 0.27 × 0.27 m and were 0.5 cm thick. Finds Many fragments of painted Nuzi ware were found on the floor. Woolley’s Definition A lavatory Reference Woolley 1955: 188; Plan: Woolley 1955: Fig. 65; Photo: Woolley 1955: Pl. XXXVb (the photo is looking southwest, and shows only the southwestern half of the room).

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

191

Level II, Building 39/C, Rooms 6–7 Size Room 6 Room 7

2.4 × 3.2 (7.68 m2) 1.2 × 3.2 (3.84 m2)

Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains Room 7 Against the northeastern wall was the ordinary lavatory arrangement with a tile-paved outlet through the wall. The foot-stand was of three courses of bricks.

Floor Room 6 Cement Room 7 Cement; during the lifetime of the house a new cement floor was laid down in the lavatory, 0.25 m above the original.

Walls Room 6 Around the walls and against the door jambs a dado of burnt tiles was set on (their) edge and faced with cement, the top of the cement having a rolled finish. Room 7 Dado like in room 6.

Finds In the fill between the two sub-phases of the floor were a fragment of a White-Slip ware II milk-bowl, and numerous fragments of painted Atchana ware goblets. Woolley’s Definition Room 7

An ordinary lavatory

192

amir sumaka i fink

Ceramic Observation Based on the finds in room 6, Woolley concluded that the Atchana ware belongs to the early part of Level II or was, at any rate, introduced then. Reference Woolley 1955: 190–191; Plan: Woolley 1955: Fig. 66. Level II, Building 39/C, Rooms 9–10 Size Room 9 2.3 × 3.2 (7.36 m2) Room 10 1.3 × 3.2 (4.16 m2)

Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains Room 10 The outlet through the wall was a channel made of two tiles set in a V-shaped fashion.

Floor Room 9 A cement floor; partly preserved Room 10 Similarly floored and equally ruined; the foot-stand has disappeared.

Walls Room 9

Cemented tiled dado; partly preserved.

Finds Room 10

A Type 447 vase of red clay was found by the drain.

Woolley’s Definition Room 10

A second lavatory

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

193

Reference Woolley 1955: 191; Plan: Woolley 1955: Fig. 66. Level I, Building 38/A, Rooms 7–8 Size Room 7 Room 8

3.3 × 4.1 (13.53 m2) 1.8 × 2.1 (3.78 m2)

Basins, Foot-stands, and Drains No information Floor Room 7 A cement floor Room 8 A cement floor; a raised lavatory foot-stand of tiles and cement.

Walls Room 7 A tile dado Room 8 A tile dado and cement plaster on the walls (not only on the dado).

Finds No information Woolley’s Definition Room 8

A lavatory of the traditional type

Reference Woolley 1955: 192; Plan: Woolley 1955: Fig. 67.

194

amir sumaka i fink References

Angelakis, A. N., Koutsoyiannis, D., and Tchobanoglous, G. 2005. Urban Wastewater and Stormwater Technologies in Ancient Greece. Water Research 39/1: 210–220. Bennet, C.-M. 1974. Excavations at Buseirah, Southern Jordan 1972: Preliminary Report. Levant 6: 1–24. Cahill, J., Reinhard, K., Tarler, D., and Warnock, P. 1991. Scientists Examine Remains of Ancient Bathroom. Biblical Archaeology Review 17/3: 64–69. Calvet, Y. and Geyer, B. 1987. L’eau dans l’habitat. In: Yon, M., ed. Le centre de la ville: 38e–44e campagnes (1978–1984), Ras Shamra-Ougarit III. Paris: 129–156. Forbes, R. J. 1964. Studies in Ancient Technology. Vol. 1 (2nd edition). Leiden. Hoffner, H. A. Jr. 1972. Review of Hattusha: The Capital of the Hittites by K. Bittel. JNES 31/2: 130–132. Hill, H. D. 1967. Tell Asmar: The Private House Area. In: Delougaz, P., Hill, H. D., and Llyod, S., eds. Private Houses and Graves in the Diyala Region (Oriental Institute Publications 88). Chicago: 143–266. Jansen, M. 1989. Water Supply and Sewage Disposal at Mohenjo-Daro. World Archaeology 21/2: 177–192. Krafeld-Daughetry, M. 1994. Wohnen im Alten Orient: Eine Untersuchung zur Verwendung von Räumen in altorientalischen Wohnhäusern (Archäologische Studien zur Kultur und Geshichte des Alten Orients). Münster. Lebeau, M. 2005. Eau et sanitaires à l’étage. In: Talon, P. and Van der Stede, V., eds. Si un homme . . .: textes offerts en hommage à André Finet (Subartu 16). Brussels: 99–105. Margueron, J. 1982. Recherches sur les palais mésopotamiens de l’âge du bronze (Bibliothèque archéologique et historique 107). Paris. McClellan, T. S. 1997. Houses and Households in North Syria during the Late Bronze Age. In: Castel, C., al-Maqdissi, M., and Villeneuve, F., eds. Les maisons dans la Syrie antique du IIIe millénaire aux débuts de l’Islam: pratique et représentations de l’espace domestique; actes du Colloque International, Damas, 27–30 juin 1992 (Bibliothèque archéologique et historique 150). Beyrouth: 31–59. Naumann, R. 1971. Architektur Kleinasiens von ihren Anfängen bis zum Ende der hethitischen Zeit (second edition). Tübingen. Oates, D., Oates, J., and McDonald, H. 1997. Excavations at Tell Brak. Vol. 1: The Mitanni and Old Babylonian Periods (McDonald Institute Monographs). Cambridge and London. Parrot, A. 1936. Les fouilles de Mari: deuxième campagne (hiver 1934–35). Syria 17: 1–31. Petrie, F. 1932. Ancient Gaza II: Tell el Ajjul. London. Postgate, J. N. 2000. Review of M. Krafeld-Daughetry, Wohnen im Alten Orient: Eine Untersuchung zur Verwendung von Räumen in altorientalischen Wohnhäusern. JAOS 120/2: 250–252. Ragette, F. 2003. Traditional Domestic Architecture of the Arab Region. Baden-Württemberg. Tubb, J. N. and Dorrell, P. G. 1993. Tell es-Sa idiyeh: Interim Report on the Sixth Season of Excavation. PEQ 125: 50–74. Starr, R. F. S. 1937–1939. Nuzi: Report on the Excavation at Yorgan Tepa near Kirkuk, Iraq, Conducted by Harvard University in Conjunction with the American Schools of Oriental Research and the University Museum of Philadelphia, 1927–1931. Vols. 1–2. Cambridge, MA. Ünal, A. 1993. Ritual Purity versus Physical Impurity in Hittite Anatolia. In: Mikasa, T., ed. Essays on Anatolian Archaeology. Wiesbaden: 119–139. Van der Stede, V. 2003. Drains verticaux et materiel associé. In: Lebeau, M. and Suleimam, A., eds. Tell Beydar, The 1995–1999 Seasons of Excavations: A Preliminary Report (Subartu 10). Brussels: 182–202. Woolley, L. 1936. Tal Atchana. The Journal of Hellenic Studies 36: 125–132.

waste management at tell atchana (alalakh)

195

——. 1937. Excavations near Antioch in 1936. The Antiquaries Journal 17/1: 1–15. ——. 1955. Alalakh: An Account of the Excavations at Tell Atchana in the Hatay, 1937–1949. Oxford. Yener, K. A., Schloen, J. D., and Fink, A. S. 2004a. Reliving the Legend: The Oriental Institute Expedition to Tell Atchana/Alalakh, 2003. The Oriental Institute News and Notes 181: 1–6. ——. 2004b. Amuq Valley Regional Projects. In: The Oriental Institute. The Oriental Institute 2003–2004 Annual Report. Chicago: 25–34. ——. 2005. Expedition to Alalakh (Tell Atchana). In: The Oriental Institute. The Oriental Institute 2004–2005 Annual Report. Chicago: 46–50. Yon, M. 1992. Ugarit: The Urban Habitat, the Present State of the Archaeological Picture. BASOR 286: 19–34.

DESERT OUTSIDERS: EXTRAMURAL NEIGHBORHOODS IN THE IRON AGE NEGEV Yifat Thareani-Sussely Introduction The method archaeologists choose when excavating ancient settlements is determined by subjective motives and limitations of time, money, and labor. Archaeological interest tends to focus on walled inner cities; consequently, these parts of ancient towns are best known to us. Archaeological studies show that in many cases ancient settlements expanded beyond what is usually considered their physical boundaries— the city wall. These extramural neighborhoods appear either abutting the outer face of the fortifications, located near the city gate, or architectonically relating to the city walls. Although the existence of extramural constructions is described in several archaeological studies and reports both in Palestine (Yadin et al. 1989: 40; Beit-Arieh 1993; Cohen 1993: 845; Biran 1999: 49–50)1 and in other regions (Bietak 1979: 108–110; Van de Mieroop 1997: 69–70, Fig. 4.3), relatively little study has been carried out on the subject, and the phenomenon is usually reviewed merely from the architectural perspective. Extramural neighborhoods are known from different sites in the ancient Near East as early as the Early Bronze Age (Bietak 1979: 108–110; Reade 1982: Fig. 58). At Palestine expansion outside the city walls occurred in various sites and regions and became most common during the Late Iron Age. Extramural remains dated to the mid-8th century BCE were revealed outside the city gate of Tel Dan and were identified by the excavator with the biblical ˜uÉÉot (2 Kings 20: 34;

1 The extramural neighborhood in the Jewish Quarter of Jerusalem is an exception, since it was probably established before the construction of the city wall (Geva 2000: 82, Plan 2.1).

198

yifat thareani-sussely

Jer. 37: 21) (Biran 1999: 49–50).2 Additional extramural constructions from the same period were detected in Tel Hazor, east of the casemate wall, where they are assumed to have functioned as workshops (Yadin et al. 1960: 22; Yadin et al. 1989: 40; Geva 1989: 54–55, Fig. 58). All the same, the appearance of extramural neighborhoods was not limited to the northern areas, and extramural evidence was detected in some Iron Age II sites in the Negev as well.3 In his monograph Living on the Fringe, Israel Finkelstein was the first to suggest a longue durée approach to arid zones in the southern Levant (Finkelstein 1995). A combination of archaeological and historical material with cross-period and cross-regional analogies brought him to the conclusion that the appearance of urban forms in the Negev was a result of cultural and sociopolitical changes. A reassessment of the extramural evidence from the Iron Age II Negev sites sheds new light on this cultural phenomenon. Extramural Neighborhoods and the “Architecture for the Poor” Theory Although the emergence of extramural neighborhoods is often mentioned in relation to the ancient Near East urban environment4 the extramural phenomenon is usually discussed in general terms. In a recent article Faust suggested that expansion outside the city walls during the Iron Age II, though common, was not highly regarded as it was considered unsafe (Faust 2003: 133). Hence, rich people were not inclined to move there. Accordingly, Faust sees extramural neighborhoods as early versions of squatters. This view relies on general geourban studies claiming that the poorest members of the preindustrial

2 For criticism on Biran’s interpretation and for discussion of this term, see Katz 2004: 270–272. 3 The term “Negev” is brought here in its biblical significant meaning: the Beersheba Valley and the Arad Plain. For different geographical definitions of the term “Negev,” see Sofer 1979: 3. 4 Ancient Mesopotamian cities of the Bronze and the Iron Age included several integral parts: a walled inner city, suburbs, and a harbor district. For further ancient Egyptian, Assyrian, and Babylonian extramural evidence, see Bietak 1979: 110–111; Van de Mieroop 1997: 65–68, 71–72. In later periods the Roman suburbium demonstrated the expansion of public and private architecture outside the traditional city core, creating new residential and commercial centers (Anderson 1997: 230–240). Roman fairs were often situated outside the borders of the polis (De Ligt 1993). Remains of a fair were discovered 1 km away from the wall of Ashkelon (Safrai 1984: 152, note 92).

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev

199

city lived in suburbs, outside the fortified area (Sjoberg 1960: 95–103; Efrat 2002: 22). A review of extramural neighborhoods in several precapitalist towns shows that the archaeological and historical evidence is more multifaceted. The spatial arrangement of the traditional Middle Eastern city in the 14th century was described by Ibn Battūta. His remark concerning the surroundings of the city gate sets the extramural neighborhood as an integral part of the urban space: “Approaching to the gates . . . (we will find) the makers of saddlers . . . Then the vendors of victuals brought in from the country who sometimes will form a market outside the gates, together with the basket makers, the sellers of spun wool and the like” (quoted in Bonine 1976: 149). An examination of traditional trade towns located in arid zones and in relation to trade routes supports this insight. The city of Kerman is located at the southern end of the Iranian plateau, on the “Indian Highway,” the trade route that ran from Teheran in the north to the Indian subcontinent.5 A vast desert covers the region that is considered arid and is characterized by extreme climatic conditions (Beazley 1982: 1, 5). The British traveler Sykes, who visited Kerman at the end of the 19th century, described the city as follows: “Approaching Kerman from the east, the city presents a somewhat confused appearance of windtowers and mosques, surrounded by ruins almost on every side . . . The city is surrounded by a wall . . . which is pierced by six gates . . . It is divided into five quarters . . . There are also three extra-mural quarters . . .” (Sykes 1902: 199). Kerman contained eight residential quarters, three of which were situated outside the city walls. Although domestic compounds occupied most of the area of the extramural quarters, crafts and trade areas, as well as small shrines, mosques, baths, and teahouses, were in operation as well. Among the traders and craftsmen were bakers, confectioners, vegetable and fruit dealers, grocers, carpenters, blacksmiths, potters, and charcoal sellers (Reshef 1982: 83). Situated in western Rajasthan, Jaisalmer is one of the border districts of India and the last station on the “Indian Highway” before the Thar Desert (Sureshwara 1990: 1–4). It was a principle commercial market that owed its importance to its geographical position. First established

5 For the layout and history of the city, see Reshef 1982: 70–73; Koelz 1983: 15–17, note 1.

200

yifat thareani-sussely

in the mid-12th century, Jaisalmer functioned as a trade center for caravans that traveled along the trade route from India to central Asia (Gupta 1987: 110–111; Somani 1990). The town was developed as a military fort and trading post for the east–west caravan route. The fort and the city wall dominated the morphology of the town. The inner part is the fort, which is set on top of a hill and contains royal quarters as well as other urban elements. Although most of the population was confined within the walls, district officers and wealthy merchants’ families lived outside the southern borders of the fort along the river bank (Sharma 1972: 143; Kulbushan 2001: 91–92, Fig. 1). In light of the above review it seems reasonable that expansion of urban forms as well as their limits derived from multiple reasons and a wide spectrum of contextual and cultural factors (Fletcher 1995: 95). Hence, there could be several factors for the development of extramural neighborhoods: Crowded Towns When the inner part of a settlement became too densely populated or too densely built, part of the population would prefer to enjoy freedom of space and would consequently move outside the city walls. Such processes are known from Palestine and Europe during the 19th century (see also Patten 1983). Trade The proximity of a settlement to a trade route or its own functioning as a trade center could have motivated the development of markets outside the city walls.6 As demonstrated above, archaeological remains and historical documents support the existence of markets in the ancient Near East. Mesopotamian documents from various sites indicate that the harbor district was situated outside the city walls, distinct from the inner city. The physical separation resulted from the fact that the harbor acted as a neutral zone where citizens from different communities

6 The lack of biblical terms describing trading venues brought Katz to claim that market trade was relatively limited in the Kingdoms of Judah and Israel (Katz 2004: 272).

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev

201

could interact without direct supervision of the urban political powers (Van de Mieroop 1997: 65–68). Commercial activity is also evident from the layout of several extramural neighborhoods in Middle Eastern and traditional towns (Lamberg Karlovsky 1975: 350; Berdan 1989: 98–105; Silver 1983: 253–257).7 Familial and Ethnic Motives There were also those who chose to settle close to the settlement but not within its borders. In this category one might include the Roman “fort villages” where family members of soldiers settled outside the fortified area (Faust 1995: 85–87), or settlements of local nomad tribes who enjoyed the advantages that the permanent settlement offered. Some extramural neighborhoods could also have been formed as ethnic quarters.8 The expanding urban space was probably not permanent and was available only in peaceful times when a strong central authority that gave the inhabitants a sense of safety was in existence. In times of relative peace, when the countryside was not exposed to warfare and raids, extramural trade and commercial activities, as well as living outside the fortified area, were probably encouraged, causing markets, trade-related institutions, and domestic areas to develop. If an occasional raid did occur, the suburban population would withdraw behind the city walls (Van de Mieroop 1997: 72). Finally, a contextual approach should also be taken when trying to reconstruct the sociopolitical components of the community of the extramural neighborhoods. The extramural structures did not exist in a vacuum and constituted an integral part of the ancient urban and regional landscape (Stone 1996: 233). In other words, the inhabitants of the extramural neighborhoods would have been motivated by a wide range of interests and circumstances. Consequently, the extramural neighborhood is likely to have included merchants, soldiers’ families, settling nomads, local families, and other social elements. It should also be noted that extramural neighborhoods were not a regional phenomenon but rather characterized a specific cultural and political climate. Contra Polanyi (1957), who suggested that there were no markets in the economy of ancient societies. 8 The subject of the “ethnic neighborhood” has been extensively discussed, but goes beyond the scope of this work; see, for example, Shack 1973: 251–285. 7

202

yifat thareani-sussely Extramural Neighborhoods in the Iron Age II Negev

Evidence for the existence of extramural architecture is noted in three different Beersheba Valley sites (Fig. 1); all are dated to the late Iron Age II: Tel Aroer, orvat Uza, and Tel Arad. The extramural constructions at Kadesh Barnea will be examined here as well. Tel {Aroer A relatively large extramural complex (ca. 1 ha) was revealed outside the fortified Iron Age town of Aroer (Areas D, A, and C) (Fig. 2). Preparing the Iron Age material from Tel Aroer for final publication9 enables to focus on the character of one of the biggest extramural neighborhoods in ancient Judah. Although, the establishment of a Roman tower on top of the mound damaged the earlier evidence in Area D (Fig. 3), extramural remains were discovered east and west of the fortified town (Biran and Cohen 1981: 250, 259, 253; Biran 1993: 90–91). The plan introduces many architectural alternations suggesting that the area existed for many decades. Excavation around the Roman tower revealed the remains of two monumental walls (W5000, W5012). Biran suggested that these walls were the foundations of a Late Iron Age fortress that existed at the site in Stratum II (the end of the 7th and the beginning of the 6th centuries BCE) (Biran 1981: 132). On the southeast side (Area D East), on the hill slope, a terrace was built made of earth fill and a layer of pebbles. Although occupation on the terrace was extensive, only a narrow area was preserved, adjacent to the city wall. A large building with a paved floor that was incorporated into the city wall was uncovered on the terrace (W5020, W5019, W5027, W5032, W5040, W5028, W5029, W5023, W5025, W5030). Two of its walls (W5020, W5019), 4 m long each, form a wide angle. W5019 was built adjacent to W5027, and together they form a corner with

9 I thank Dr. Avraham Biran from the Nelson Glueck School of Biblical Archaeology for the kind permission and encouragement to bring the material from the excavations in Tel Aroer to final publication.

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev

203

W5032, which is 8 m long and turns southwest. Additional short walls associated with the building (W5030, W5028) abut the long walls creating four subunits. W5025 is a plastered brick wall with a brickmade installation attached to it. Parallel to the upper part of W5025 excavators revealed an additional long wall (W5030) that was preserved to a length of ca. 4 m and several columns were incorporated into it. It seems that this row of columns separated a western room from an eastern one. The eastern part contained a tabun, a jar sunk into the paved floor, and pieces of scrap metal (L. 1011). Southeast of the long building an additional small unit was revealed containing two walls (W5033, W5034) and a clay basin (L. 1003). Pottery that was found in the basin includes restorable storage jar (Fig. 4: 3), a cooking-pot (Fig. 4: 1), and a bowl (Fig. 4: 2) all dating to the end of the 8th century BCE. South and west of the building excavation revealed walls (W5062, W5067, W5072) abutting the south Iron Age podium wall (W5000) creating small architectural units (Fig. 3) where pottery and a figurine were found. Extensive extramural remains were revealed on the southwest side (Area D West) as well, close to the assumed city gate (Fig. 3). The area west of the monumental Iron Age walls (W3020, W5000) was occupied by a pebble-paved courtyard (enclosed by W3035 and W5075). It contains fire places and two curved stone walls (W5035, W5036) that might have been used as an installation. A large quantity of Iron Age II pottery, figurines, and bones was found nearby (L. 1411) (Fig. 4). An additional stone installation (L. 1432) was found north of the courtyard. Its wall is made of small stones sloping down moderately toward a floor that consists of large flat stones. It contained soil, some pottery sherds, and a small limestone altar with decorated walls and ash remains. Its architectonic layout and building material suggest that the installation was used as a granary during the earlier phases of occupation, and was later filled with secondary refuse. South of the courtyard a broad building was excavated (W5052, W5054, W5006). Its use spanned at least three phases, and it included several subunits, some of which were paved: rooms, courtyards, and installations (including a tabun). The finds from the building included Judean bowls (Figs. 5: 1–2; 7; 1–4; 8: 1–2; 9: 3; 10: 1–4), kraters (Figs. 6: 1; 8: 4, 8), Edomite bowls (Figs. 5: 3–5; 8: 3; 9: 7) cooking-pots (Fig. 9: 5), jugs (Fig. 7: 7), juglets (Figs. 6: 9; 7: 5; 8: 5), decanters (Fig. 5: 6), lamps (Figs. 7: 8; 8: 6–7; 9: 4), and storage jars (Figs. 6: 2; 9: 8; 10: 5), all dated to the Late Iron Age (L. 1417, L. 1421, L. 443). Also found

204

yifat thareani-sussely

were weights, small stone altars, a horse figurine, and the base of a Judean Pillar Figurine. Another area of ca. 150 m2 (Area A) was excavated south of this neighborhood (Fig. 11). This area contains the remains of a rectangular building that was located directly beneath surface level and consists of two main architectural units: a northern one and a southern one. The northern unit is square and built of relatively thick walls; its pebble-paved floor and its space divided by a row of columns. The southern unit is elongated and consists of two parallel walls and two smaller intersecting walls; together these walls form a series of small rooms, some of which include installations such as stone platforms. The material culture from the building is varied and contains nearly one hundred complete vessels including: Judean bowls (Fig. 13: 5–8), Edomite painted and carinated bowls (Fig. 12: 1–3, 5–6, 8–10), a painted Edomite incense burner (Fig. 12: 4), Edomite holemouth jar (Fig. 13: 3), Judean and Edomite cooking-pots (Fig. 13: 1–2, 4), and flasks (Figs. 12: 7). Among the artifacts the excavation yielded is an Edomite seal (bearing the inscription leqosa), figurines, sheqel weights, and sherds bearing potters’ marks. The public nature of the building from Area A is attested by its layout (i.e. the length of the walls), installations found within it, and material culture associated with it. In a recent article I suggest identifying the building with an ancient caravanserai that existed outside the fortified town of Aroer (Thareani-Sussely 2007a).10 In Area C, at the foot of the mound, on the bank of Na al Aroer, 225 m2 of a large building were uncovered (Fig. 2): A long room (12 × 4 m) was excavated, and in the south end of its eastern wall an opening to the east was found, leading to a number of rooms, which were only partially excavated. In and around the building many granaries were located. In one of these silos a sherd with the remains of three Hebrew letters, possibly ‫שלש‬, was found (Biran and Cohen 1975: 171). The pottery assemblage from the extramural areas of Aroer contains more than two hundred complete vessels that enable dating the

10 There are other cases where caravansaries were situated near the town, outside its fortified area. An ancient caravanserai was excavated outside the gate of Mampsis in the Negev (Building VIII) and dated to the Middle-Late Nabatean period (Negev 1988: 191–194). This phenomenon is detected in later periods as well. An additional example can be found in the caravansaries built outside the city gate of Samarkand, near the Silk Road (Brandenburg 1972: 34).

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev

205

architectural units to the period between the end of the 8th century and the beginning of the 6th century BCE. The artifacts include clay figurines, inscriptions, seal impressions, small altars, and weights (made of various materials such as stone, clay, and hematite), and may be associated with commercial activities and public functions. Æorvat {Uza Extramural remains were also found downstream from the fortress of orvat Uza (Fig. 14).11 The Iron Age II fortress is located on the bank of Wadi Qina, on the eastern side of the Arad Plain. The extramural construction was erected in relation to the northern wall of the fortress and its gate. The remains present a planned structure that was built on terraces and retaining walls to overcome the steep gradient. Excavation revealed a large colonnaded building (6 × 14 m). It contained two entrances, a paved courtyard, and three rooms with plastered floors. The material culture from this building was dated to the end of the 7th and the beginning of the 6th centuries BCE, contemporaneous with the time of the fortress (Stratum IV). Pottery typical of the Beersheba Valley sites at the end of the Iron Age and two inscriptions were also found (Beit-Arieh 1985: 97–101; 1986–1987: 32–38; 1993: 1495–1497; 1993: 55–63; 2007). The extramural construction at orvat Uza occupied an estimated area of 0.7 ha (according to the excavator remains of additional walls can still be seen on the surface but have not been excavated yet [BeitArieh, personal communication]). On top of the extramural settlement a water cistern was revealed. Erecting the extramural building on the steep slope must have required an investment of effort and energy and was thus probably done for strategic considerations. Beit-Arieh suggested that the extramural structures at orvat Uza may serve as evidence for a connection with the settlement and could have housed family members of the garrisons who were stationed at the fort (BeitArieh 1993b: 1496; 2007).

11 I wish to thank Prof. Itzhak Beit-Arieh for allowing publication of the general plan of orvat Uza.

206

yifat thareani-sussely

Tel Arad Located adjacent to orvat Uza, Tel Arad functioned as the main fortress in the Arad Plain. Salvage excavations that were carried out in 1992 on the eastern slope of the mound, outside the fort, discovered Late Iron Age dwelling remains (Goethert and Amiran 1996: 112–115). The excavators revealed parts of a large building that contained four rooms and is ascribed to Layers 2 and 3. One of the rooms was paved and included a brick bench. In the corners of other rooms, rounded brick ovens and rounded stone installation were found. A thick layer of brick debris was detected on the floors.12 At orvat Uza as well, the excavators assumed that the appearance of domestic buildings on the slope, outside the boundaries of the fort, could be explained as a housing solution for soldiers’ family members (Goethert and Amiran 1996: 114–115). It should be stressed that the excavation on the slope of Tel Arad was limited and it is highly likely that there are additional constructions at the area. Kadesh Barnea Extramural remains were also detected at the fortress of Kadesh Barnea.13 I have chosen to include Kadesh Barnea in the Beersheba Valley group of sites in spite of it not being considered part of the Beersheba Valley settlement system. The similarity between the Beersheba Valley sites and the fortress of Kadesh Barnea is evident from a chronological and a geographical perspective. Both sites are located in a semi-arid environment, include extramural remains, and existed during the same time span. R. Cohen excavated at the site revealing four granaries outside the north wall of the fortress between two towers, constructed on a foundation of fieldstones and pebbles. The largest granary was about 1.8 m in diameter. A 3 × 4 m room abutting the wall of the fortress was unearthed to the west of the granaries. On its floor was a tabun in which a complete Negbite cooking-pot was found (Cohen 1993: 844–845: Cohen and Bernick-Greenberg 2007).

The material culture from the building has not been published yet, apart from a burnished bowl that was found in one of the rooms; see Goethert and Amiran 1996: Figs. 11–12. 13 For stratigraphic criticism of this description, see Ussishkin 1993: 3–4. 12

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev

207

“Desert Outsiders” or Part of the Urban Setting? The various functions that extramural neighborhoods fulfilled are attested across the whole range of archaeological and historical evidence. The appearance of extramural neighborhoods during the Late Iron Age was not limited to the Negev sites but rather existed in north Palestine as well, such as Dan, Hazor, and Jerusalem. It seems reasonable that these neighborhoods were also built in other sites and simply have not yet been excavated. The ethnohistorical and architectural evidence from traditional trade towns that are situated in arid zones show that extramural neighborhoods developed for multiple political and socioeconomic reasons: trade, crowded towns, and other familial and ethnic motives. Intensive scholarly work focused on historical and archaeological evidence from the Beersheba Valley during the Iron Age II shows that the sociopolitical atmosphere in the Beersheba Valley toward the end of the Iron Age enabled the development of a flourishing trade system. Assyrian interests and conquests in the Levant and the following economic prosperity, the pax Assyriaca, brought relative stability and peace to the region.14 Various artifacts support this view and illustrate the commercial activity that took place in the region as part of the long distance Southern Arabian trade as early as the 8th century BCE.15 Although the scenario of “architecture for the poor” is conceivably more likely in remote antiquity, the evidence from the extramural neighborhoods in Iron Age II Beersheba Valley is different and points to a variety of functions. In fact, discussion of the Iron Age extramural remains should focus on the singularity of each settlement and its status in the settlement pattern rather than on generalizations. In this framework, the extramural neighborhood of Tel Aroer should be understood in the setting of the geographical location of the site. Situated at the southernmost point of the Beersheba Valley settlement system the town of Aroer functioned as an intermediary between the Arava Desert and the southern part of the Judean Kingdom.

14 For historical background, see Tadmor 1966: 89–90; Otzen 1979: 255–256; Eph al 1982: 93–94; Na aman 1995: 113; Parpola 2003: 103–104. 15 This assemblage includes: Assyrian weights, Assyrian glass, South Arabian inscriptions, Edomite seals and inscriptions, and stone and alabaster vessels. See also Finkelstein 1992: 161–162; 1995: 146; Singer-Avitz 1999: 50–52; Thareani-Sussely 2007b.

208

yifat thareani-sussely

The proximity of the site to the Arabian trade route, as reflected in its archaeological record, played a major role during the Late Iron Age and dictated the development of Aroer as a trade town. Various artifacts and two sherds incised with South Arabian signs support this view. One of the sherds was found in the extramural Area D (L. 1431) and bears the letter ‫( ח‬Fig. 15). In general, the architectural remains of the neighborhood outside the walls of Aroer and its material finds imply a public function, probably industrial and commercial. Private dwelling areas likely developed there as well. The forts of Tel Arad and orvat Uza, are located in the eastern part of the Beersheba Valley, close to the border with Edom. Both sites were probably designed to protect the eastern border of the Judean Kingdom and display military and administrative characteristics. Haiman claimed that the extramural construction of the forts should be considered as separate, independent settlements and therefore defined them as “rural sites” (Haiman 1987: 132–133). Contrary to this, Faust argued that the extramural neighborhood should be seen as a byproduct of the forts rather than as a new, independent type of settlement. He defined them as “fort villages”—a term borrowed from the Roman world (Faust 2003: 85–87; Safrai 1994: 345–346), relating to a situation when the establishment of a fort was accompanied by the building of a nearby settlement for soldiers’ families, merchants, and locals, creating an extramural neighborhood. The architectonic nature of the large extramural building excavated outside the fort of Uza suggest together with their recovered finds that they were probably built on the initiative of a central authority. Faust assumed that most inhabitants of these villages did not share a common background. Therefore, the population of a village did not function as a single unit but rather comprised several groups that interacted with each other (Faust 1995: 86). Although this social reconstruction is reasonable, the architectural layout of the building at orvat Uza and its material culture reflect a central plan and the utilization of public resources. The appearance of extramural constructions outside the forts supports the hypothesis that the Late Iron Age was generally peaceful and that people felt secure enough to live and interact outside the walls. Considering the military and administrative nature of the sites it seems reasonable that the extramural remains were used either as dwelling for the soldiers’ families, initiated by a central or local authority, and/or as

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev

209

a marketplace where locals and foreigners interacted. This could also be the case for the extramural construction at Kadesh Barnea. The bulk of the archaeological remains from the Beersheba Valley sites attests to at least a partial presence of public architecture rather than squatters. The ethnohistorical evidence suggests that commercial activity frequently took place outside the fortified area of the town (in some cases commercial areas were combined with dwelling quarters). The material culture from the extramural Negev neighborhoods and the evidence from other Iron Age II Levant sites and some Middle Eastern trade towns also support this assumption. Of special significance is the evidence from Jaisalmer describing the existence of a rich, merchant domestic quarter outside the fort. It shows that under calm political conditions and due to economic interests, elite groups and administrators might find the option of living outside the city walls attractive. It was the political and cultural circumstances in the southern Levant toward the end of the Iron Age that allowed desert urban centers to appear and develop (Finkelstein 1995: 146). Strong Assyrian imperial rule made marketplaces and commercial activities available at sites that were situated along trade routes. Correspondingly, the extramural remains at the Beersheba Valley sites could have served as marketplaces, merchants’ quarters, or other trade-related institutions as well as for domestic functions. The sociopolitical component of the Negev sites during the Late Iron Age probably originated from various social and ethnic groups (merchants, soldiers’ families, local tribal groups, etc.) forming a multicultural society. In some cases ancient extramural neighborhoods may have developed later than the city center.16 Nonetheless, once erected they became closely connected with the ancient urban setting, and functioned as a place of interaction between various population groups from different origins and social classes: merchants, caravaneers, nomads, and local population—all integral parts of the ancient urban community.

16 Spontaneous development of extramural neighborhood is typical of many traditional Middle Eastern towns (Brown 1973: 88).

210

yifat thareani-sussely Acknowledgments

I would like to thank Noga Zeevi who drew the pottery and the artifacts from Aroer for her collaboration and assistance, and Dov Portonsky for producing the plans.

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev

211

References Anderson, J. C. 1997. Roman Architecture and Society. Baltimore. Beazley, E. and Harverson, M. 1982. Living with the Desert: Working Buildings of the Iranian Plateau. Warminster. Beit-Arieh, I. 1985. An Edomite Ostracon from orvat Uza. Tel Aviv 12; 97–101. ——. 1986–1987. The Ostracon of Ahiqam from orvat Uza, Tel Aviv 13–14: 32–38. ——. 1993a. A Literary Ostracon from orvat Uza. Tel Aviv 20: 55–63. ——. 1993b. orvat Uza. NEAEHL 4: 1495–1497. ——. (ed.). 2007. Horvat ‘Uza and Horvat Radum: Two Fortresses in the Biblical Negev. (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 25). Tel Aviv. Berdan, F. F. 1989. Trade and Markets in Pre-Capitalist States. In: Plattner, S., ed. Economic Anthropology. Stanford: 78–107. Bietak, M. 1979. Egyptology and the Urban Setting. In: Weeks, K. R., ed. Egyptology and the Social Sciences. Cairo: 95–144. ——. 2003. Temple or “Bet Marzeah”? In: Dever, W. G. and Gitin, S., eds. Symbiosis, Symbolism and the Power of the Past. Winona Lake, IA: 155–168. Biran, A. 1981. Notes and News— Aroer. IEJ 31: 131–132. ——. 1993. Aroer (in Judea) NEAEHL 1: 89–93. ——. 1999. Two Bronze Plaques and the Hussot of Dan, IEJ 49: 43–54. Biran, A. and Cohen, R. 1975. Notes and News— Aroer. IEJ 25: 171. ——. 1981. Aroer in the Negev. EI 15: 250–273 (Hebrew). Bonine, M. E. 1976. From Uruk to Casablanca: Perspectives on the Urban Experience of the Middle East. Journal of Urban History 3: 141–180. Brandenburg, D. 1972. Samarkand—Studien zur islamischen Baukunst in Uzbekistan. Berlin. Brown, L. C., ed. 1973. From Madina to Metropolis: Heritage and Change in the Near Eastern City. New Jersey. Cohen, R. 1998. Kadesh Barnea. NEAEHL 3: 843–847. Cohen, R. and Bernick-Greenberg, H. 2007. Excavations at Kadesh Barnea (Tell el-Qudeirat) 1976–1982. (IAA Reports 34). Jerusalem. De Ligt, L. 1993. Fairs and Markets in the Roman Empire: Economic and Social Aspects of Periodic Trade in a Pre-Industrial Society. Amsterdam. Efrat, E. 2002. Elements of Urban Geography. Tel Aviv (Hebrew). Eph al, I. 1982 The Ancient Arabs: Nomads on the Border of the Fertile Crescent, 9th–5th Centuries B.C. Jerusalem. Faust, A. 1995. The Rural Settlement in the Land of Israel during the Period of the Monarchy (M.A. thesis, Bar-Ilan University). Ramat Gan (Hebrew). ——. 2003. Residential Patterns in the Ancient Israelite City. Levant 35: 123–138. Finkelstein, I. 1992. orvat Qitmit and the Southern Trade in the Late Iron Age II. ZDPV 108: 156–170. ——. 1995. Living on the Fringe (Monographs in Mediterranean Archaeology 6). Sheffield. Fletcher, R. 1995. The Limits of Settlement Growth: A Theoretical Outline. Cambridge, MA. Geva, S. 1989. Hazor, Israel: An Urban Community of the 8th Century BCE (BAR International Series 543). Oxford. Geva, H., ed. 2000. Jewish Quarter Excavations in the Old City of Jerusalem Conducted by Nahman Avigad, 1969–1982. Jerusalem. Goethert, R. and Amiran, R. 1996 A Salvage Excavation on the Eastern Slope of Tel Arad. EI 25: 112–115 (Hebrew). Gupta, B. L. 1987. Trade and Commerce in Rajasthan during the 18th Century. Jaipur. Haiman, M. 1987. The Iron Age Sites of the Negev Highlands (M.A. thesis, Hebrew University). Jerusalem (Hebrew). Katz, H. 2004. Commercial Activity in the Kingdoms of Judah and Israel. Tel Aviv 31: 268–277.

212

yifat thareani-sussely

Koelz, W. N. 1983. Persian Diary 1939–1941 (Anthropological Papers. Museum of Anthropology, University of Michigan No. 71). Ann Arbor. Kulbhushan, J. 2001. Jaisalmer: Architecture of a Desert Town. In: Pratapaditya, P., ed. Stones in the Sand: The Architecture of Rajasthan. Numbai: 90–101. Lamberg Karlovsky, C. C. 1975. Third Millennium Modes of Exchange and Modes of Production. In: Sabloff, J. A. and Lamberg Karlovsky, C. C., eds. Ancient Civilizations and Trade. Albuquerque: 341–368. Na aman, N. 1995. Province System and Settlement Pattern in Southern Syria and Palestine in the Neo-Assyrian Period. In: Liverani, M., ed. Neo-Assyrian Geography. Rome: 103–115. Negev, A. 1998. The Architecture of Mampsis. Final Report. Vol. 1: The Middle and Late Nabatean Periods (Qedem 26). Jerusalem. Otzen, B. 1979. Israel under the Assyrians. In: Larsen, M. T., ed. Power and Propaganda: A Symposium on Ancient Empires. Copenhagen: 251–261. Parpola, S. 2003. Assyria’s Expansion in the 8th and 7th Centuries and Its Long-Term Repercussions in the West. In: Dever, W. G. and Gitin, S., eds. Symbiosis, Symbolism and the Power of the Past. Winona Lake, IA: 99–112. Patten, J., ed. 1983. The Expanding City (Essays in Honor of Professor Jean Gottmann). London. Polanyi, K. 1957. Trade and Market in the Early Empires: Economies in History and Theory. Glencoe. Reade, J. 1982. Tell Taya. In: Curtis, J., ed. Fifty Years of Mesopotamian Discovery: The Work of the British School of Archaeology in Iraq 1932–1982. Hertford: 72–78. Reshef, Z. 1982. Spatial Organization of Traditional Middle-Eastern Desert Cities (M.A. thesis. School of Architecture, McGill University). Montreal. Safrai, Z. 1984. Fairs in the Land of Israel in the Mishna and Talmud Period. Zion 49: 139–158 (Hebrew). ——. 1994. The Economy of Roman Palestine. London. Shack, W. A. 1973. Urban Ethnicity and the Cultural Process of Urbanization in Ethiopia. In: Southall, A., ed. Urban Anthropology: Cross-Cultural Studies of Urbanization. New York: 251–285. Sharma, R. C. 1972. Settlement Geography of the Indian Desert. New Delhi. Silver, M. 1983. Prophets and Markets: The Political Economy of Ancient Israel. Boston. Singer-Avitz, L. 1999. Beersheba—A Gateway Community in Southern Arabian Long Distance Trade. Tel Aviv 26: 3–74. Sjoberg, G. 1960. The Preindustrial City, Past and Present. New York. Sofer, A. 1979. The Negev—A Geographical Definition. In: Shmueli, A. and Gardos, Y., eds. The Land of the Negev: Man and Desert. Tel Aviv: 3–9 (Hebrew). Somani, R. V. 1990. History of Jaisalmer. Jaipur. Stone, E. C. 1996. Houses, Households and Neighborhoods in the Old Babylonian Period: The Role of Extended Families. In: Veenhof, K. R., ed. Houses and Households in Ancient Mesopotamia. Leiden: 229–235. Sureshwara, N. 1990. Art and Architecture of Jaisalmer. Jodhpur. Sykes, P. M. 1902. Ten Thousand Miles in Persia or Eight Years in Iran. London. Tadmor, H. 1966. Philistia under Assyrian Rule. BA 29: 86–102. Thareani-Sussely, Y. 2007a. Ancient Caravanserai: An Archaeological View from Aroer. Levant 39: 123–141. ——. 2007b. The “Archaeology of the Days of Manasseh” Reconsidered in Light of the Evidence from the Beersheba Valley. PEQ 139: 69–77. Ussishkin, D. 1993. The Rectangular Fortress at Kadesh-Barnea. EI 24: 1–6 (Hebrew). Van de Mieroop, M. 1997. The Ancient Mesopotamian City. Oxford. Yadin, Y. et al. 1960. Hazor II: An Account of the Second Season of Excavations, 1956. Jerusalem. ——. 1989. Hazor III–IV: An Account of the Third and Fourth Seasons of Excavation, 1957–1958. Jerusalem.

A MESSAGE IN A JUG: CANAANITE, PHILISTINE, AND CYPRIOT ICONOGRAPHY AND THE “ORPHEUS JUG” Assaf Yasur-Landau Introduction The “Orpheus Jug,” named for the depiction of a lyre player among animals, is a strainer jug with black and red pictorial decoration, found in Area AA, Stratum VIA at Megiddo (Fig. 1: 1; Shipton 1939: 6; Loud 1948: Pl. 76: 1).1 It was unearthed in Room 2101, the large eastern room of Building 2072, sometimes referred to as a palace (e.g., Kempinski 1989: 161; Ussishkin 1992: 673; Herzog 1997: 201; Mazar 2002: 274) or as an elite building (Halpern 2000: 552) replacing the Canaanite palace of Stratum VII. In contrast to the other rooms in the same complex, Room 2101 had no plaster floor and it was not as well preserved as the western wing of the complex: its southern and eastern walls missing (Dothan 1982: 78; Mazar 2002: 274). The bad preservation of the room may account for the fact that apart from the “Orpheus Jug” only a krater (Loud 1948: Pl. 79: 5) and a scarab (ibid.: Pl. 153: 221) were recovered from it. The jug was described by T. Dothan as “an outstanding example of the debased Philistine pottery,” (Dothan 1967: 132; 1982: 78) making it a rather late example of this pottery style. While many accepted this identification (B. Mazar 1974: 174–175; 1976; Keel 1998: 123; and most recently A. Mazar 2002: 274 and Harrison 2003: 34–35; 2004: 34–35), Kempinski (1989: 86) followed Dothan and argued that the design had a “very long tradition in the Mycenaean III C 1 style,” and accordingly dated the jug to the early 11th century at the latest.

1 The idea for this article was born after several long discussions with Israel Finkelstein concerning the jug and its possible Philistine affinities, after participating in the excavation of Stratum VIA, Area K during the summer of 1998.

214

assaf yasur-landau

The unanimous attribution of the “Orpheus Jug” to the Philistine Bichrome tradition is dependent on the understanding of the ethnicity of the inhabitants of Building 2072, and the identity of the dominating power governing Megiddo VIA. The finding of this vessel in Building 2072 was one of the decisive factors in B. Mazar’s conviction that the building was a residence of the Philistine governor of Megiddo (Mazar 1974: 175; 1976). Similarly, Harrison uses this jug, together with the architectural style of the building, perforated loom weights, two-handle cooking-pots, and anchor seals found in it, to argue for Philistine presence in Megiddo (2003: 34–35; 2004: 18, 34–35, 40).2 However, if the “Orpheus Jug” is so unique in its theme, why has it been automatically identified with the Philistine Bichrome tradition, in which no other such complex scene exists? When approaching the topic of the origin of the iconography and the meaning of the symbolism on the “Orpheus Jug,” it becomes clear that although motifs on both Philistine Monochrome (Mycenaean IIIC: 1b) and Bichrome ware have been defined and classified (Dothan 1982; Dothan and Zukerman 2004), little has been said about their symbolic meaning. Furthermore, it has not been established that the symbols of Aegean-derived pottery from Philistia manifest an ideology that is significantly different from that of the Late Bronze “Canaanite” pottery, which would allow a determination as to whether the symbolism of the “Orpheus Jug” belongs to local Canaanite culture or to that of the Aegean. Therefore, any search for the iconographic sources of the “Orpheus Jug” must, before arriving at 11th-century Megiddo, first visit the iconography of Canaanite pottery from the end of the Late Bronze Age, and then examine the meaning of the figural iconography introduced by the Philistines in the 12th century BCE.

2 None of these criteria are distinctively “Philistine”: Most of the parallels to the plan of Building 2072 come from the areas of the northern valleys, rather than from Philistia (Harrison 2003: 35). The one- and two-handle cooking-pots considered by Harrison (2004: 30–31) as Philistine have a concave base, very different from the flat or ring bases found on all cooking-pots in Philistia and the Aegean (Yasur-Landau 2002: 117–118, 171; Dothan and Zukerman 2004: 28, 30). Only one loom weight appears to be unperforated, while the large concentration of loom weights from Building 2072 (Harrison 2004: Fig. 33) is perforated, unlike any of the Aegean-style loom weights from Philistia, Cyprus and the Aegean. Finally, a significant number of the anchor seals (Keel 1994: 34) may have been manufactured in Egypt, and only very few of them—those depicting a lyre player—are considered by Keel to be Philistine. Recently Arie (2006: 249), studying the pottery from the Megiddo stratum VIA, have noted that its ceramic tradition is a direct continuation of the Late Bronze Age Canaanite tradition of Megiddo, and thus argue that the inhabitants of this Iron I stratum were Canaanites.

a message in a jug

215

The Canaanite Goddess and the Ibex and Palm Tree Symbolism The ibex and palm tree and related motifs connected with the sacred tree are arguably the most common figural motifs on 14th- and 13thcentury pottery from Canaan (Fig. 2). This powerful symbol of the goddess of the earth and fertility was extremely common in Late Bronze and Early Iron Age art (Keel 1998: 30–41; Keel and Uehlinger 1998: 56–58). The tree is often shown flanked by animals, usually deer or gazelles, and birds, but sometimes fish and even crabs (Fig. 2: 5; Keel 1998: Figs. 54, 55a–b). Such iconography is particularly common on pottery from Fosse Temple III at Lachish (Fig. 2: 1; Tufnell et al. 1940: Pl. XLVIII B, 249–251), as well as pottery from 13th- and early-12thcenturies-BCE contexts in other locations on the tell (e.g., Aharoni 1975: Pl. 39: 11; see here Fig. 2: 2).3 An ewer from Fosse Temple III with scenes of ibexes and trees is inscribed with a Canaanite alphabetic inscription that renders it a gift to a goddess, perhaps xElat (Fig. 2: 3; Hestrin 1987: 214; Keel and Uehlinger 1998: 72). Hestrin identifies the tree with the symbol of xAthirat/xElat, a fertility goddess mentioned in Ugarit (Hestrin 1987: 220). It is likely that this symbolism on pottery is closely related to mold-made figurines of naked goddesses. One such type is a creator goddess nursing two infants, with a palmetto tree flanked by caprids shown on each of her thighs, found at Tel Miqne-Ekron and at Aphek (Fig. 2: 7; Keel 1998: 34–35; Keel and Uehlinger 1998: 73–74, 75, Fig. 82). This is most probably the Great Mother Goddess xAshera/xAthirat of the Canaanite traditions, the consort of xEl (and perhaps later of Yahweh [Toorn, van der 1998: 88–91; cf. Keel and Uhlinger 1998: 210–248]) and the Mother of Gods (Goodnick-Westholz 1998: 79; Keel and Uehlinger 1998: 74). Another type of nude goddess holds a papyrus plant in each hand and is sometimes depicted standing on the back of a lion or a horse (Keel and Uehlinger 1998: 66–68). These may be representations of the goddess {Anat (displaying both sexual appeal, and the warlike nature of the horse; Goodnick-Westholz 1998: 79; Keel and Uehlinger 1998: 68), or the above-mentioned xAshera/xAthirat. To these types one may add the Astarte plaques—depictions of naked

3 In the new excavations they originate from Levels P1–P2 (Clamer 2004a: Figs. 20.14: 1, 20.31: 1, 3) as well as Levels VIIa (Yannai 2004: Fig. 19: 34: 4) and VI (Clamer 2004b: Fig. 21.9: 2, 8; Yannai 2004: Fig. 19: 40: 1).

216

assaf yasur-landau

women on pottery plaques, which seem to represent goddesses rather than wet-nurses or concubines (Keel and Uehlinger 1998: 97–105).4 The imagery of the animals and palm/sacred tree was probably not easily prone to alteration through external influence. An unusual case in which the image of the eastern goddess may have been influenced by Aegean symbolism is that of a pyxis lid from Ugarit (Keel 1998: 30–31; Rehak and Younger 1998: 249–251). It depicts a semi-naked goddess between two caprids. Although the origin of the iconography of the scene is most likely Mycenaean, the execution is more eastern in nature. Regardless of the artist’s origin, the attributes of the goddess and the scenery would have easily been recognized by both Ugaritians/ Canaanites and Aegeans as belonging to their earth/mother goddess. The imagery of a tree, sometimes a palm, flanked by caprids, is also found on Aegean pottery from the 14th to the 12th centuries BCE (e.g., Vermeule and Karageorghis 1982: Pls. III.26, XI.83, XII.11, XII.24, XI.73, 74, 77; see here Fig. 2: 6). While this may reflect a deep influence of ancient Near Eastern religious iconography on Aegean pastoral styles and Dodecanesean imagery, it may also be the manifestation of an Aegean motif of Cretan origin: a sacred or religious landscape of a goddess or a sacred tree, surrounded by caprids and other animals (Marinatos 1993: 193–194; Hiller 2001). The Philistine Bird and the Aegean Goddess With the arrival of the Philistine migrants to Canaan in the 12th century, there was a marked change in the pottery iconography in Ashdod, Ashkelon, and Tel Miqne-Ekron. The ibex and palm tree motif disappeared, and the Philistine bird became the dominant figural motif, appearing on Philistine Monochrome and later on Bichrome pottery. Two examples of storage jars with ibexes and palm trees come from Tel Miqne-Ekron, Field I, Stratum IX (Killebrew 1996: Pls. 5: 13, 7: 1; 1998: Fig. 1: 13), while the earliest appearance of birds is recorded in Stratum VII (Killebrew 1998: Fig. 7: 13, 15; Dothan and Zukerman 2004: Fig. 8: 14) and continues in VI (e.g., Killebrew 1998: Fig. 10: 15, 16; see here Fig. 1: 3). In Ashdod, Area G the latest ibex on a Canaanite

4 Such a plaque was found in a Late Bronze context at Ashdod Area B, Stratum XVII (Local Stratum 4; Dothan 1971: Pl. XXXI: 11).

a message in a jug

217

goblet (?) sherd in Stratum XIII, is possibly a residual of XIV (Dothan and Porath 1993: Fig. 13: 12). The earliest birds appear in Stratum XIIIb (ibid.: Figs. 15: 11, 17: 10) and are very common throughout Strata XIIIa and XII (ibid.: Figs. 20: 1, 21: 3–5, 22) and XII (ibid.: Figs. 27: 1–2, 28: 5–6, 29: 5–7, 31: 1–2, 32: 2; see here Fig. 1: 2). This change in pottery iconography coincides with the introduction of the Ashdoda-style figurines, all long-necked, bird-faced, female-figured, and wearing a polos, and significantly different from the Canaanite naked goddesses of the Late Bronze Age (Fig. 3: 7). It was suggested that these figurines were influenced by Aegean prototypes of an enthroned ruling goddess (Yasur-Landau 2001). Why is the bird motif so common in Philistine pottery, and does it represent a different ideology than that behind the ibex and palm tree, which it seems to succeed? The bird motif, the most common faunal motif and arguably the most striking feature of Philistine pottery, seems to be universally perceived as a motif of Aegean origin. In her classic work, Dothan discusses the Mycenaean origin of the Philistine bird as well as its development in the Philistine Bichrome repertoire (1982: 198–203), yet without mention of its symbolic and ideological aspects. Wachsmann’s suggestion (Mazar 1980: 100 note 93; Wachsmann 2000) that certain types of sea birds were sacred to the Philistines because of their role as a navigational aid in seafaring was accepted by Mazar (1980: 100; 2000: 228), and by Dothan and Dothan (1992: 229), who discussed the appearance of birds on pottery and on cult stands from Tell Qasile, and on the prows of the ships of the Sea Peoples. However, very few of the birds in Aegean and Philistine pottery iconography appear as devices on ships, thus weakening this suggestion, and justifying a reexamination of the contexts in which birds are found in the iconography of LH IIIC Aegean pottery as well as in that of Philistine pottery. First, birds appear on Philistine Bichrome pottery in what appear to be realistic or fantastic scenes of nature, sometimes correlating to Aegean prototypes. In some cases they appear alongside lotus plants, suggesting Egyptian influence (Dothan 1982: 215). Dothan (1982: 198) argues that the fish and birds on the jug from Tel {Aitun are part of a Nilotic scene (Fig. 1: 4). On a jug from Azor (ibid.: Fig. 48; see here Fig. 1: 4), shaped in an Egyptian-derived pottery form, yet decorated in the Philistine Bichrome style, two birds are depicted by a large lotus plant. A similar scene comes from Tell el-Far{ah (ibid.: Fig. 12: 2) showing a bird with a fish. Dothan (1982: 204) compared

218

assaf yasur-landau

these representations to LH IIIC Dodecanesean stirrup jars showing octopuses with fish, birds, and other animals between their tentacles (e.g., Mountjoy 1999: Figs. 438: 267, 456: 141, 464: 18, 19; Vermeule and Karageorghis 1982: Pls. XII.19, 23, 39, XIII.8; see here Fig. 1: 5). Motifs of birds together with fish painted in the same style (e.g., ibid.: Pl. XII.22) also appear on the Mycenaean IIIC: 1b pottery of Cyprus. There are scenes of birds attacking fish from Enkomi, Area III, Level IIIB (Dikaios 1969: Pl. 81: 26, 27). It is difficult to determine whether these scenes simply depict the world of nature or whether they also portray a sacred landscape—nature serving as the background to the appearance of a divinity. Images of birds also appear perching on the stems of Mycenaean ships. Such is the case on a LH IIIB amphoroid krater from Enkoni (Fig. 3: 1; Vermeule and Kargeorghis 1982: Pl. V.38; Wachsmann 1998: 142) and on a LH IIIC pyxis from Tragana (Fig. 3: 2; Vermeule and Kargeorghis 1982: Pl. XI.92; Wachsmann 1998: 137). Wachsmann (1998: 177–197) interprets these as belonging to a large group of depictions of Aegean and European Bronze Age ships equipped with bird-head devices, a group in which he also includes the ships of the Sea Peoples shown in Medinet Habu (e.g., LH IIIC example from Syros; Fig. 3: 4). Wachsmann (1995: 195) argues, based on ethnographic examples, that equipping a ship with a bird-like device was meant to give the ship a life of its own, as well as to ensure the divine protection of the deity whose symbol the bird was. A direct continuation of such depictions on the pottery of Philistia can be seen on a LH IIIC (Monochrome) sherd from Ashkelon (Wachsmann 2000: 131–135), showing the legs of a warrior standing on a ship bow ornamented with a bird-shaped device. Yon (1992) believed that the bird heads on the ships of the Sea Peoples are those of ducks, being a European symbol of travel, as well as of renaissance and fertility. Still, although it seems likely that the depictions of birds on ships bear a special symbolism, it is difficult to understand its meaning in the context of these depictions. A possible solution for the symbolic meaning of the Philistine birds comes from representations in the Aegean world, in which birds are common symbols in both Minoan and Mycenaean religious iconography, manifesting the actual presence of a goddess, or a symbol of her invisible presence (Carter 1995: 290). Although the origin of this imagery may be Minoan, examples of LH II–III Mycenaean depictions that show close affiliation existing between birds and the enthroned Aegean

a message in a jug

219

female deity demonstrate its acceptance into Mycenaean religious iconography. The most complete scene in which an enthroned deity is accompanied by a bird is the Tiryns gold ring (LH II?; Sakellariou 1964: 202–203 [No. 179]; Rehak 1995: 103; see here Fig. 3: 3). The goddess is seated on a throne with a bird behind it. She is wearing a polos and necklaces, and approached by a row of genii holding beakers. This scene is depicted on the middle register of three appearing on the seal. Above the irregular-top borderline of this register there are depictions of plants, the sun, and a crescent. Thus, it may be that this line represents the line of the ground, below which the scene takes place—probably in the netherworld. The LH IIIA: 1 “Homage Krater” from Aradippo, Cyprus (Fig. 3: 5; Vermeule and Karageorghis 1982: 23–24, Pl. III: 29) depicts two enthroned women (only one of which is shown here). Similar to the Tiryns gold ring, they are both wearing dotted dresses and their necks are adorned with necklaces. A bird sits on the top of the back of the chair of one of the women, and she is approached by a procession led by a naked (?) man carrying a lance, followed by women in dotted dresses similar to that of the enthroned figure, wearing many necklaces and carrying swords. Karageorghis (1958) compared the enthroned figures to the “Dove Goddess” mentioned in Linear B texts. The association of the bird with the polos- (or high hat)-wearing female deities is also evident in Final Palatial and post-Palatial Crete of the 14th–12th centuries BCE. On the eastern side of the Agia Triada sarcophagus (Long 1974: 29; Marinatos 1993; 35) two female deities stand in a chariot drawn by griffins, with a bird flying above them—a description similar to that on the Tiryns gold ring. The deities were taken by Long (1974: 30–32) to be the protectors of the dead, while Marinatos (1993: 35–36) sees them as celestial goddesses.5 Birds are shown attached to the headdresses of the post-Palatial LM IIIB and LM IIIC goddesses with upraised arms from Gazi, Khannia, Karphi, and the Shrine of the Double Axes in Knossos (Gessel 1985: 41). Carter (1995: 292–296) notes the association of lyre players and birds in LM/LM III iconography of funerary sacrifice and sacrificial feasts, such as that appearing on the Pylos throne room fresco, the broad side

5 The second pair of polos-wearing goddesses on the other side of the sarcophagus is interpreted by Marinatos to be chthonic goddesses.

220

assaf yasur-landau

of the Agia Triada sarcophagus, and representation on pottery. These birds indicate divine presence at the feast. A link between the Aegean depictions of the seated goddesses with the birds, the birds in the Philistine repertoire, and the Ashdoda Aegean enthroned deities comes from Philistia itself. Further evidence from Ashkelon is a late-12th-century krater, depicting in Bichrome style images similar in style to those found in LH IIIC Kynos (Fig. 3: 6; Stager 1998: 164: Fig. a: Stager 2006: fig. 5). The figure on the right seems to be seated and holds a cup in her hand; she is reminiscent of some of the Mycenaean seated goddesses (Yasur-Landau 2001). The Parallel Lives of Goddesses in Philistia The imagery of the bird, the symbol of the Aegean enthroned goddess, was introduced together with the cult of the goddess by the Aegean migrants to Philistia in the 12th century BCE, but the combination of tree and ibexes was no longer represented on pottery in Philistia. The Aegean migrants did not paint them on their pottery, although they were well known as sacred symbols in the Aegean area for centuries. The choice of a bird, rather than a tree for a symbol of divinity is likely to have had a diacritical meaning. The purpose was to differentiate between the Aegean goddesses and the local ones, and thus perhaps to mark the ethnic difference between the migrants and the local population, and to celebrate the prevalence of Aegean deities over local ones. Symbolism associated with the older Canaanite cult continued, however, to be in use in Philistia, but on a smaller scale: A few cases of Canaanite iconographic influences of the sacred tree are apparent in the earliest phase of Aegean pottery. One example is an Aegean-style krater, from Tel Miqne-Ekron, Field X, Stratum VIIB, decorated with a tree or a branch, on a hill (?) (Dothan 1998b: Pl. 2: 2)—an element defined by Dothan (ibid.: 21) as peculiar in the Aegean repertoire of motifs. Another Aegean-style krater from Stratum VIA in Area IV is decorated with a palm tree—a motif that has no parallels in the Philistine Monochrome (locally made LH IIIC) from Philistia, and seems to recall Canaanite prototypes. The find of figurines also indicate that after the migration of the Philistines (and other Sea Peoples) the cult of the local “Canaanite” goddesses did not cease, but rather seems to have continued side by side (perhaps on a reduced scale) with the newly introduced “Ashdoda”

a message in a jug

221

figurines. Depictions of naked goddesses, carried out in “Canaanite” manner, were found in Iron Age I Gezer, Area VI (Dever 1986: Pls. 55: 4, 58: 8), and even appeared together with an “Ashdoda” head in Pit 2001 in Ashdod, Area C, in a dump comprising mostly Iron Age I material (Dothan and Freedman 1967: Fig. 35: 3, 4). This symbolic distinction started fading during the mid- to late 11th and early 10th centuries BCE. The Tell Qasile shrine of Strata XI and XI yielded Philistine Bichrome pottery with decorations exhibiting bird imagery (Mazar 1985: Figs. 21: 2, 27: 11, 32: 7) and cultic “bird bowls” (Mazar 1980: 96–98). Both cultic stands and bird decorations appear alongside imagery associated with the Canaanite goddess, such as a naos-like plaque with images of two naked goddesses (Mazar 1980: 82–84), and a large cultic pot decorated with images of trees (Mazar 1980: 104–106; 2000: 225–227). During the same time, the renewed trade relations with Cyprus introduced Cypriot elements into the cult in Philistia, such as the use of bovid scapula for divination (Dothan 1998a: 155; Yasur-Landau 2002: 190–191), and possibly also wheeled stands, and masks (Mazar 2000: 277). Other elements of Cypriot material culture introduced into the Canaanite world at that time were straight and horn-shaped bottles incorporated into the Philistine Bichrome repertoire (Dothan 1982: 160–168; Stager 1995: 338–339, Fig. 3; Yasur-Landau 2002: 180) and bimetallic knives (Mazar 2000: 227). A Philistine Vase? A Stylistic Analysis of the “Orpheus Jug” Viewing the complex nature of cultic practices and iconography in Philistia during the late 11th–early 10th centuries as reflecting local Canaanite, Aegean and Cypriot traditions dictates a cautious approach to the examination of the shape and decoration of the “Orpheus Jug.” Indeed, morphologically, it seems to conform to some of the criteria set for the identification of the Philistine Bichrome pottery: Its shape is derived from the LH IIIC Aegean prototype of the strainer jug (FS 155; Mountjoy 1986: 167; 1993: 102), a shape that is found in the Philistine Bichrome repertoire (Dothan Type 6 strainerspouted jug; Dothan 1982: 132–148; Stager 1995: 338–339, Fig. 3 No. 2). However, a more squat variant of the spouted jug form existed already in the local, Canaanite pottery tradition of Megiddo Stratum VII (e.g., Loud 1948: Pl. 63: 7).

222

assaf yasur-landau

It is decorated in two colors (black and red) on white slip. Some of the non-figurative decorative motifs on it appear also on Philistine Bichrome pottery, as well as on LH IIIC-Submycenaean Pottery: isolated semicircles with solid centers (FM 43; Dothan 1982: 209; Mountjoy 1986: 194) and the division into panels by triglyphs (FM 75; Mountjoy 1986: 136–137; Dothan 1982: 214–215). Despite these similarities, Dothan herself notes that the jug “is unique in almost any aspect of its decoration” (Dothan 1982: 150). She proceeds to offer a detailed iconographical analysis of it (Dothan 1967: 128–132; Dothan 1982: 150–152) that illustrates that both the composition and the different figures portrayed on the vessel have little in common with the main traditions of the LH IIIC pottery painting or with the Philistine Bichrome. Human figures are extremely rare on both Bichrome and Monochrome Philistine pottery. In fact, only two examples are known, both from Ashkelon (Stager 1998: Fig. on page 157, 164: Fig. a; Wachsmann 2000: 134, Fig. 6.29). Dothan (1982: 150) notes that the closest parallel to this figure is a zoomorphic vessel from the Canaanite Stratum VIIA at Megiddo (Fig. 4: 2; Loud 1948: Pl. 247: 7) on which three warriors are depicted in red and black, their chests are divided into horizontal strips filled with red dots. Similar warriors, this time bearded, appear on a vessel found in Schumacher’s excavations (Fig. 4: 1; Schumacher 1908: Pl. 24; Keel 1998: Fig. 59). However, none of these figures have a net–patterned chest or a fringed skirt like those of the figure shown on the “Orpheus Jug,” nor has any Late Bronze depiction exhibiting these features been found in the Levant to date. Birds and fish—frequent motifs on Philistine pottery—are also depicted in a very different style on the “Orpheus Jug.” The bodies of Philistine birds, in both Monochrome and Bichrome repertoires is almost always divided into two zones, usually by a band filled in by triglyph pattern, and a wing composed of multiple chevron-shaped parallels lines (Dothan 1982: Figs. 61–62; Dothan and Zukerman 2004: Fig. 19: 1–3), unlike the solid-painted body and the curved wing of the “Orpheus Jug” bird. The gills of fish in the Philistine repertoire are always defined by curved lines, and their bodies are filled with various patterns such as horizontal zigzags and herringbone (i.e. Dothan 1982: Fig. 12: 1, 2; Dothan and Zukerman 2004: Fig. 19: 4, 35: 7) and are never painted solid as the ones on the “Orpheus Jug.” It may be possible to trace at least some of the inspiration for the creation of this jug back to the Proto White Painted and Cypro-Geometric Iron Age pictorial pottery styles of 11th- and 10th-century Cyprus.

a message in a jug

223

Much of this pottery is decorated in two colors, red and black. The strainer jug itself is a pottery type introduced into Cyprus from the Aegean area during LC IIC and LC IIIA (Kling 1989; 2000: 282, 286;) that was manufactured locally later in the Late Bronze, into the Early Iron Age (e.g., the Cypro-Geometric I–II strainer jug from Grotirin: Iacovou 1988: 70–71). The dog with the curling tail on the “Orpheus Jug” has good parallels with a late PWP amphora from the Sozos collection and CGIA amphorae from the Kourion Museum (Iacovou 1988: 62, Figs. 2, 23). Similarly, parallels to the fish can be seen on some early PWP-CGIA (Iacovou 1988: 68–69). Finally, human figures with one large eye and a net pattern on the chest can be found on a late CGIA tripod displayed at the Metropolitan Museum (Fig. 4: 3; Iacovou 1988: 72, Fig. 33) and on a late CGIA plate from KoukliaSkales (Fig. 4: 6; Iacovou 1988: 27). A bearded lyre player appears on a late PWP kalathos found at Kouklia-Xerolimani T.9: 7 (Fig. 4: 5; Iacovou 1988: 72, Fig. 70). Naturally, some of the motifs noted above (as well as others on painted pottery of 11th–10th-centuries Cyprus) have distant Aegean prototypes, going as far back as the 13th century BCE. This, however, does not render them Aegean when they appear on the “Orpheus Jug.” It is possible to reconstruct how these Cypriot motifs could have influenced local pottery production: Cypriot imports to the Levant in the 12th century (Iron Age IA) may have been rare and sporadic (Gilboa 2001: 349) but during the Iron Age IB and Iron Age I–II transition period, the 11th and early 10th centuries, they increased significantly as is attested by a large quantity of Cypro-Geometric IA and IB finds throughout the Levant (ibid.: 352), including a single white painted krater from Megiddo, which is dated to Stratum VIA (Loud 1948: Pl. 78: 20; Gilboa 1989: 214). This import resulted in local manufacture of Cypriot-style pottery, like the conspicuous example of a pictorial Bichrome bowl from Dor (Gilboa 1989: 211; 2001: 354; Iacovou 1992: 223–224), dating to the Iron Age I–II transition. NAA analysis proved that it was manufactured in the area of Dor, yet the design it bears of a goat and cross-hatched lozenges is typical of the CG decorative range. A similar phenomenon is probably seen in Tyre (Gilboa 2001: 350), and in the southern Coastal Plain, where new Cypriot forms entered the ceramic repertoire during the 11th century. Dothan considered these newly introduced forms, bottles, horn-shaped vessels and gourd-shaped vases, a part of the Philistine Bichrome repertoire (Dothan 1982: 160–183).

224

assaf yasur-landau The Sacred Tree and the Maintenance of Canaanite Identity

It is not only the style of decoration that cannot be traced to a point of origin in Greece. The narrative of the scene, which has a crucial role of conveying a message, appears to belong to a non-Helladic tradition. The composition of a man playing a musical instrument among animals has no Aegean parallels, although lyre players do appear on Aegean vases and fresco paintings of the 13th and 12th centuries BCE (Iacovou 1988: 82; Younger 1988: 69 No. 31, 70–71 Nos. 33, 35–36; Carter 1995: 292–296; Lawergren 1998: 51 Fig. 5 f–j). Some of this evidence has already been discussed by Dothan, who, following Porada, argued for an eastern origin of the composition of a man playing the lyre in front of animals, based on two similar descriptions: on a seal from Tarsus, dating from the end of the Late Bronze or the beginning of the Iron Age (Goldman 1956: Figs. 394: 35, 400: 35; Porada 1956; Dothan 1982: Fig. 28: 2), and on a seal from Mardin in southeastern Anatolia (Dothan 1982: 152 note 88). Lawergren examined depictions of lyre players in the Levant and reached a similar conclusion (1998: 53). From the direction of movement in the scene, it is clear that the lyre player is not the focus of the composition. Both he and the animals are turning towards a giant lotus plant.6 This, as observed by Dothan (1982: 152) and Keel (1998: 39–40), is a schematized sacred tree, connected to a procession of animals. The palm tree and ibex motif (although it includes also other animals; Amiran 1969: 161–165) enjoyed much popularity in Megiddo throughout the Late Bronze Age (e.g., Guy 1938: Pl. 134; Loud 1948: Pls. 58: 1, 2, 64: 4, 69: 13, 72: 3; Amiran 1969: Pl. 50; see here Fig. 2: 4, 5). The core of this motif—a palm tree, likely to represent the sacred tree—continues to appear as a decorative motif in Early Iron Age Stratum VIA (Fig. 4: 7; Loud 1948: Pl. 84: 5). Thus, it may be possible to assign the “Orpheus Jug” to the prevalent tradition in Megiddo of producing and acquiring vessels depicted with scenes of a sacred tree and animals. The relation between the function of the jug and the scene it bears forms an intriguing tension. The strainer jug, most likely used to pour

6 Mazar (1974: 179) has suggested that the scene should not be interpreted as a lyre player playing among animals, but rather as a poet singing about animals and of the world of nature, perhaps tales similar to the animal fables common in the literature of the ancient Near East. This interpretation, however, disregards the central role of the sacred tree in the composition.

a message in a jug

225

wine in symposia (Stager 1995: 345), was a part of a wine drinking kit of Aegean origin introduced to the Levant in the 12th century, following LH IIIC prototypes (Dothan and Zukerman 2004: 24). It also became part of the bronze wine-drinking kit of the Megiddo elite of Stratum VIA, as attested by the presence of a bronze strainer jug among the bronze bowls, juglets, and strainers found in a cache unearthed in Locus 1739 (Loud 1948: Pl. 189–190). The pastoral cultic setting appearing on the “Orpheus Jug” is not typical of 13th–12th-centuries Aegean taste, which usually exhibits a tendency toward themes of power and domination through the portrayal of chariots, hunt scenes, ships, and warriors (Deger-Jalkotzy 1994: 20). These topics were all connected to the ethos of elite domination and rulership by military might, possession of luxury items, and leading of an elite life, strengthened by Homericstyle symposia (Deger-Jalkotzy 1995: 376–377). The pastoral depiction also does not fit the 11th-century-BCE Cypriot aristocratic taste for depictions of “macho” activities, favoring warriors, elite drinking, and hunt scenes (Sherratt 1992: 331–333; Iacovou 1997; Karageorghis 1997: 76–79; Steel 2002: 112). The “Orpheus Jug” tells a different tale: Only the “package,” if even that, is foreign, imitating some Cypriot decorative elements. The subtle message of the vase is conveyed by referring the owner and his drinking guests to a well-known ancient Near Eastern mythological theme, celebrated for centuries in Canaanite Megiddo: the peaceful demonstration of the power of the goddess, represented by the sacred tree, the unity between man and nature, and music.

226

assaf yasur-landau References

Amiran, R. 1969. Ancient Pottery of the Holy Land: From Its Beginning in the Neolithic Period to the End of the Iron Age. Jerusalem. Aharoni, Y. 1975. Investigations at Lachish: The Sanctuary and the Residency (Lachish V). Tel Aviv. Arie, E. 2006. The Iron Age I Pottery: Levels K-5 and K-4 and an Intra-Site Spatial Analysis of the Pottery from Stratum VIA. In: Finkelstein, I., Ussishkin, D. and Halpern, B., eds. Megiddo IV: The 1998–2002 Seasons. Tel Aviv: 191–298. Betancourt, P. P. 1985. The History of Minoan Pottery. Princeton. Carter, J. B. 1995. Ancestors Cult and the Occasion of Homeric Performance. In: Carter, J. B. and Morris, S. P., eds. The Ages of Homer: A Tribute to Emily Townsend Vermeule. Austin: 285–312. Clamer, C. 2004a. Section A: The Pottery from Levels P-2 and P-1 in Area P. In: Ussishkin, D. The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973–1994) (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 22). Tel Aviv: 1155–1234. ——. 2004b. The Pottery and Artefacts from the Level VI Temple in Area P. In: Ussishkin, D. The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973–1994) (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 22). Tel Aviv: 1288–1368. Deger-Jalkotzy, S. 1994. The Post Palatial Period of Greece: An Aegean Prelude to the 11th Century B.C. in Cyprus. In: Karageorghis, V., ed. Proceedings of the International Symposium: Cyprus in the 11th Century B.C. Nicosia: 11–29. ——. 1995. Mykenische Herrshcaftformen ohne Paläste und die griechische Polis. In: Laffineur, R. and Niemeier, W.-D., eds. Politeia: Society and State in the Aegean Bronze Age (Aegaeum 12.II). Liège: 367–377. Dever, W. G. 1986. Gezer IV: The 1969–71 Seasons in Field VI, the “Acropolis”. Part 2, Plates, Plans. Jerusalem. Dikaios, P. 1969. Enkomi: Excavations 1948–1958. Vol. 1: The Architectural Remains. The Tombs. Mainz am Rhein. Dothan, M. 1971. Ashdod II–III: The Second and Third Season of Excavations 1963, 1965, Sounding in 1967. Text and Plates ({Atiqot 9–10). Jerusalem. Dothan, M. and Freedman, D. N. 1967. Ashdod I: The First Season of Excavations ({Atiqot 7). Jerusalem. Dothan, M. and Porath, Y. 1993. Ashdod V: Excavations of Area G. The Fourth–Sixth Season of Excavations 1968–1970 ({Atiqot 23). Jerusalem. Dothan, T. 1967. The Philistines and Their Material Culture. Jerusalem (Hebrew). ——. 1982. The Philistines and Their Material Culture. Jerusalem. ——. 1998a. Initial Philistine Settlement: From Migration to Coexistence. In: Gitin, S., Mazar, A., and Stern, E., eds. Mediterranean Peoples in Transition: Thirteenth to Early Tenth Centuries BCE. Jerusalem: 148–161. ——. 1998b. The Pottery. In: Bierling, N. Report on the 1995–1996 Excavations in Field XNW: Areas 77, 78, 79, 89, 101, 102. Iron Age I. Text and Data Base (Plates, Sections, Plans) (The Tel Miqne-Ekron Limited Edition Series, No. 7). Jerusalem: 20–48. Dothan, T. and Dothan, M. 1992. People of the Sea: The Search for the Philistines. New York. Dothan, T. and Zukerman, A. 2004. A Preliminary Study of the Mycenaean IIIC: 1 Pottery Assemblages from Tel Miqne-Ekron and Ashdod. BASOR 333: 1–54. Gessel, G. C. 1985. Town, Palace, and House Cult in Minoan Crete. Göteborg. Gilboa, A. 1989. New Finds at Tel Dor and the Beginning of Cypro-Geometric Pottery Import to Palestine. IEJ 39: 204–218.

a message in a jug

227

——. 2001. Southern Phoenicia during Iron Age I–IIA in the Light of the Tel Dor Excavations: The Evidence of Pottery (Ph.D. Dissertation, Hebrew University). Jerusalem. Goldman, H. 1956. Excavations at Güzlü Kule: Tarsus. Vol. 2. Princeton. Goodnick-Westenholz, J. 1998. Goddesses of the Ancient Near East 3000–1000 BC. In: Goodison, L. and Morris, C., eds. Ancient Goddesses: The Myth and the Evidence. London: 63–82. Guy, P. L. O. 1938. Megiddo Tombs (Oriental Institute Publications 33). Chicago. Halpern, B. 2000. Centre and Sentry: Megiddo’s Role in Transit, Administration and Trade. In: Finkelstein, I., Ussishkin, D., and Halpern, B., eds. Megiddo III: The 1992–1996 Seasons (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 18). Tel Aviv: 535–575. Harrison, T. 2003. The Battleground. Biblical Archaeology Review 29/6: 28–33, 60–62. ——. 2004. Megiddo 3: The Final Report on the Stratum VI Excavations (Oriental Institute Publications 127). Chicago. Herzog, Z. 1997. The Archaeology of the City: Urban Planning in Ancient Israel and Its Social Implications (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 13). Tel Aviv. Hestrin, R. 1987. The Lachish Ewer and the xAsherah. IEJ 37: 212–223. Hiller, S. 2001. Potnia/Potnios Aigon: On the Religious Aspects of Goats in the Aegean Late Bronze Age. In: Laffineur, R. and Hägg, R., eds. Potnia: Deities and Religion in the Aegean Bronze Age (Aegaeum 22). Liège: 293–304. Iacovou, M. 1988. The Pictorial Pottery of Eleventh Century B.C. Cyprus (SIMA 78). Göteborg. ——. 1992. Additions to the Corpus of Eleventh Century B.C. Pictorial Pottery. In: Ioannides, G. C., ed. Studies in Honour of Vasses Karageorghis. Nicosia: 217–226. ——. 1997. Images in Silhouette: The Missing Link of the Figurative Representations on Eleventh Century B.C. Cypriot Pottery. In: Karageorghis, V., Laffineuer, R., and Vandenabeele, F., eds. Four Thousand Years of Images on Cypriot Pottery. Proceedings of the Third International Conference of Cypriot Studies. Nicosia, 3–4 May, 1996. Brussels-LiègeNicosia: 61–72. Immerwahr, S. A. 1990. Aegean Painting in the Bronze Age. University Park and London. Karageorghis, V. 1958. Myth and Epic in Mycenaean Vase Painting. AJA 62: 383–387. ——. 1997. The Pictorial Style in Vase Painting of the Early Cypro-Geometric Period. In: Karageorghis, V., Laffineuer, R., and Vandenabeele, F., eds. Four Thousand Years of Images on Cypriot Pottery. Proceedings of the Third International Conference of Cypriot Studies. Nicosia, 3–4 May, 1996. Brussels-Liège-Nicosia: 73–80. Keel, O. 1998. Goddesses and Trees, New Moon and Yahweh: Ancient Near Eastern Art and the Hebrew Bible ( JSOT Supplement 261). Sheffield. ——. 1994. Philistine ‘Anchor Seals’. IEJ 44: 21–35. Keel, O. and Uehlinger, C. 1998. Gods, Goddesses and Images of God in Ancient Israel. Edinburgh. Kempinski, A. 1989. Megiddo: A City State and Royal Centre in North Israel. Munich. Kling, B. 1989. Mycenaean IIIC:1b and Related Pottery in Cyprus (SIMA 87). Göteborg. ——. 2000. Mycenaean IIIC:1b and Related Pottery in Cyprus: Comments on the Current State of Research. In: Oren, E. D., ed. The Sea Peoples and Their World: A Reassessment (University Museum Monograph 108). Philadelphia: 281–295. Killebrew, A. E. 1996. Tel Miqne-Ekron: Report of the 1985–1987 Excavations in Field INE: Areas 5, 6, 7. The Bronze and Iron Ages. Text and Data Base (Plates, Sections, Plans). Jerusalem. Killebrew, A. 1998. Ceramic Typology and Technology of Late Bronze II and Iron I Assemblages from Tel Miqne-Ekron: The Transition from Canaanite to Philistine Culture. In: Gitin, S., Mazar, A., and Stern, E., eds. Mediterranean Peoples in Transition: Thirteenth to Early Tenth Centuries BCE. Jerusalem: 379–405.

228

assaf yasur-landau

Lawergren, B. 1998. Distinction among Canaanite, Philistine, and Israelite Lyres, and Their Global Lyrical Contexts. BASOR 309: 41–68. Long, C. R. 1974. The Ayia Triadha Sarcophagos: A Study of Late Minoan and Mycenaean Funerary Practices and Beliefs (SIMA 41). Göteborg. Loud, G. 1948. Megiddo II: Seasons of 1935–39 (Oriental Institute Publications 62). Chicago. Marinatos, N. 1993. Minoan Religion: Ritual, Image, and Symbol. Columbia. Mazar, A. 1980. Excavations at Tell Qasile, Part One: The Philistine Sanctuary (Qedem 12). Jerusalem. ——. 1985. Excavations at Tell Qasile, Part Two: Various Objects, the Pottery, Conclusions (Qedem 20). Jerusalem. ——. 2002. Megiddo in the Thirteenth–Eleventh Centuries BCE: A Review of Some Recent Studies. In: Oren, E. D. and Ahituv, S., eds. Aharon Kempinski Memorial Volume: Studies in Archaeology and Related Disciplines (Beer-Sheva 15). Beer-Sheva: 264–282. Mazar, B. 1974. Canaan and Israel: Historical Essays. Jerusalem (Hebrew). ——. 1976. The “Orpheus” Jug from Megiddo. In: Cross, F. M., Lemke, W. E., and Miller, P. D., eds. Magnalia Dei: The Mighty Acts of God. Garden City: 187–192. Mountjoy, P. A. 1986. Mycenaean Decorated Pottery: A Guide to Identification (SIMA 73). Göteborg. ——. 1993. Mycenaean Pottery: An Introduction (Oxford University Committee for Archaeology Monograph No. 36). Oxford. ——. 1999. Regional Mycenaean Decorated Pottery. Radhen. Porada, E. 1956. A Lyre Player from Tarsus and His Relations. In: Weinberg, S. S., ed. The Aegean and the Near East: Studies Presented to Hetty Goldman on the Occasion of Her Seventy-Fifth Birthday. New York: 185–211. Rehak, P. 1995. Enthroned Figures in Aegean Art and the Function of the Mycenaean Megaron. In: Rehak, P., ed. The Role of the Ruler in the Prehistoric Aegean (Aegaeum 11). Liège: 95–127. Rehak, P. and Younger, J. G. 1998. International Styles in Ivory Carving in the Bronze Age. In: Cline, E. and Harris-Cline, D., eds. The Aegeans and the Orient in the Second Millennium (Aegaeum 18). Liège: 229–254. Sakellarakis, J. A. 1992. The Mycenaean Pictorial Pottery in the National Archaeological Museum of Athens. Athens. Sakellariou, A. 1964. Die Minoischen und Mykenischen Siegel des Nationalmuseums in Athen (Corpus der Minoischen und Mykenischen Siegel, Band I). Berlin. Schumacher, G. 1908. Tell el-Mutesellim. I. Band. Tafeln. Leipzig. Sherratt, S. 1992. Immigration and Archaeology: Some Indirect Reflections. In: Aström, P., ed. Acta Cypria: Acts of an International Congress on Cypriote Archaeology Held in Göteborg on 22–24 August 1991. Part 2 (SIMA Pocket Book 117). Jonsered: 316–347. Shipton, G. M. 1939. Notes on the Megiddo Pottery of Strata VI–XX (Studies in Ancient Oriental Civilization 17). Chicago. Stager, L. E. 1995. The Impact of the Sea Peoples in Canaan (1185–1050 B.C.E.). In: Levy, T. E., ed. The Archaeology of Society in the Holy Land. London: 332–348. ——. 1998. Foraging an Identity: The Emergence of Ancient Israel. In: Coogan, M. D., ed. The Oxford History of the Biblical World. New York and Oxford: 123–175. ——. 2006. Chariot Fittings from Philistine Ashkelon. In: Gitin, S., Wright, J. E. and Dessel, J. P., eds. Confronting the Past. Archaeological and Historical Essays on Ancient Israel in Honor of Willian G. Dever. Winona Lake: 169–176. Steel, L. 2002. Wine, Women and Song: Drinking Ritual in Cyprus in the Late Bronze and Early Iron Ages. In: Bolger, D. and Serwint, N., eds. Engendering Aphrodite: Women and Society in Ancient Cyprus (CAARI Monograph, Vol. 3). Boston: 105–114. Toorn, van den, K. 1998. Goddesses in Early Israelite Religion. In: Goodison, L. and Morris, C., eds. Ancient Goddesses: The Myth and the Evidence. London: 83–97.

a message in a jug

229

Tufnell, O., Inge, C. H., and Harding, L. 1940. Lachish II (Tell ed Duweir): The Fosse Temple. London, New York, and Toronto. Ussishkin, D. 1992. Megiddo. Anchor Bible Dictionary 4: 666–679. Vermeule, E. and Karageorghis, V. 1982. Mycenaean Pictorial Vase Painting. Cambridge, MA. Wachsmann, S. 1998. Seagoing Ships and Seamanship in the Bronze Age Levant. London. ——. 2000. To the Sea of the Philistines. In: Oren, E. D., ed. The Sea Peoples and Their World: A Reassessment (University Museum Monograph 108). Philadelphia: 103–143. Watrous, L. V. 1991. The Origin and Iconography of the Late Minoan Painted Larnax. Hesperia 60: 285–307. Wedde, M. 2000. Towards a Hermenautics of Aegean Bronze Age Ship Imagery (Peleus 6). Mannheim and Möhnesse. Yannai, E. 2004. The Late Bronze Age Pottery from Area S. In: Ussishkin, D. The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973–1994) (Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University No. 22). Tel Aviv: 1032–1146. Yasur-Landau, A. 2001. The Mother(s) of All Philistines: Aegean Enthroned Deities of the 12th–11th Century Philistia. In: Laffineur, R. and Hägg, R., eds. Potnia: Deities and Religion in the Aegean Bronze Age (Aegaeum 22). Liège: 329–343. ——. 2002. Social Aspects of the Aegean Migration to the Levant in the End of the 2nd Millennium BCE (Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv University). Tel-Aviv. Yon, M. 1992. Ducks’ Travels. In: Aström, P., ed. Acta Cypria: Acts of an International Congress on Cypriote Archaeology Held in Göteborg on 22–24 August 1991. Part 2 (SIMA Pocket Book 117). Jonsered: 394–407. Younger, J. G. 1988. Music in the Aegean Bronze Age (SIMA Pocket Book 144). Jonsered.

INDEX

Aachen as seat of Carolingian Empire, 28 n. 20 abandonment of settlements, 34 n. 36, 78, 136, 140, 157 Ablution Room 3, 170 n. 13 Abu Salabikh, 170 n. 12 Aegean culture, 26 n. 18, 224, 225 Aegean style loom weights, 214 n. 2 cooking pots, 214 n. 2 pottery, 214, 216, 217, 220, 223 settlement patterns, 135, 156–60 as source for Philistine city-states, 154 symbolism and the Orpheus Jug, 214, 216, 220, 224 See also Mycenaean culture Aegean Goddess, xx, 216–20 Agia Triada sarcophagus, 219, 220 agriculture agriculture borderline of Lower Besor, 75, 83 grain storage in Dan, xvii–xviii, 87–102 Philistine livestock farming and urban life patterns, 157–59 rainfed agriculture, 75, 83 use of Assyrian cubit, 51, 52 See also livestock Aharoni, Y., 32, 108 Aitun, Tel, 29 n. 24, 217 Akko valley, 155–56 Alalakh. See Atchana, Tell Albright, W. F., 46, 55 Allen, M. J., 151 al-Mina, 165 Amarna, 30 Amarna archive, 60 El-Amarna letters, 138 Amenhotep II (pharaoh), 59 Amenhotep III (pharaoh), 60 Amos, prophecy of, 143 Amuq, 165, 165 n. 1 Anat (goddess), 215 Anatolia, 224 anchor seals, 214 Andreev, Y. V., 159 Anim ( orbat), 25–26 n. 17

animal husbandry. See livestock Annales School, 57 Aphek, Tel ceramic phases found in, 3, 3 n. 2 City-State and hinterland, 58, 58 n. 7, 64 in the Coastal Plain, 56, 57 collared-rim jars found in, 105, 105 n. 1 Egyptian presence in, 59, 59 n. 9, 60–61, 62, 62 n. 16 figurine of goddess found in, 215 Philistine cooking-pots found in, 64–65, 64 n. 19 sheep and goat farming in, 121 storage pits in, 88, 91 Arad, Tel building activity in, 30, 33 n. 33 extramural neighborhoods in, xvi, 202, 206, 208 fort at, 33, 33 nn. 33–34, 206, 208 grain storage in, 100 Arad Plain, 198 n. 3, 205, 206 Aradippo, Cyprus, 219 Aram-Damascus, xix, 31, 31 n. 29 Arava Desert, 207 Archaeological Survey of Israel, 76 Archaeology of the Israelite Settlement, The (Finkelstein), 87 architecture, 91, 92, 93 “architecture for the poor” theory, 198–200, 207 determining builders and date of palaces in Megiddo and Samaria, xx, 45–52 Egyptian New Kingdom architecture, 61, 61 n. 11 extramural architecture, 197, 198 n. 4, 202, 203, 204, 205, 207, 208, 209 funerary architecture, 19, 35 n. 39 lack of remains from Late Bronze Age, 106, 109 monumental architecture, 36, 45, 50, 51 public architecture, 63, 209 in Rome, 198 n. 4

232

index

arcosolium (bench tombs), 18 n. 3 Arie, Eran, xvi, 1–14 Aroer, Tel, xvi, 202–5, 207 Ashdod, Tel burial practices in, 20 n. 7 confrontation with Judah, 32 and Gath, 144, 144 n. 12 Philistines and, 64 pottery iconography in, 216–17 replaced by Ashdod-Yam, 149 settlement pattern in, xix, 139, 147–49, 147 n. 17, 148 n. 18, 150, 154 n. 22, 157, 160 site characterization, 137 n. 3 Ashdoda figurines, 220–21 Ashera/ Athirat (great mother goddess), 215 Ashkelon, Tel fairs outside of, 198 n. 4 Philistines and, 64, 66, 155, 216, 218, 220, 222 “port power” of, 151, 152 pottery iconography in, 216 settlement pattern in, xix, 148, 148 n. 19, 149–51, 152 n. 21, 155, 157, 160 size of, 148 n. 19 ashlars, 47, 47 n. 1, 51–52 Ashododa-style figurines, 217 Asmar, Tell, 169, 170 Assyria Assyrian conquests, 34 n. 37, 52, 138, 143, 144, 144 n. 12, 149, 153, 207, 209 extramural neighborhoods in, 198 n. 4 pax Assyriaca, 207 and prisoners of war, 52 trade system of, 207, 209 withdrawal from Judah, 35 n. 39 Assyrian cubit, 51–52 Astarte plaques, 215–16, 216 n. 4 Atchana, Tell name variations for, 165 n. 1 palaces compared to private homes in, 170–71 n. 14 waste management in the Late Bronze Age, xvi–xvii, 165–93 Athirat/ Elat (fertility goddess), 215 Avitsur, S., 57 Ayalon River. See Yarkon-Ayalon basin Azor, 63, 217

Bakler, N., 137 n. 3 Barkay, G., 18, 19, 20, 25, 27 Base-Ring Ware, 109, 182, 184, 187, 188 bathrooms in Atchana in the Late Bronze Age, xvi–xvii, 165–93 differentiated from toilets and restrooms, 166 n. 4 larger than restrooms, 172 Woolley’s records of at Atchana, 177–93 Battūta, Ibn, 199 Beck, P., 3 Bedouins in Lower Besor, 80 of southern Shephelah, 93 n. 8 Be er Shema ( orvat), 79, 82 n. 15, 83 Beer-sheba, Tel, 30, 33 n. 34, 97, 127 Beersheba Valley, 30, 198 n. 3, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209 Beit Jirjia, 150 Beit Mirsim, Tell, 90 bench tombs in Judah as a reflection of state formation, xix–xx, 17–36 typological differences, 18 n. 3, 26 n. 18 Benjamin Plateau, 29 n. 23 Ben-Shlomo, D., 149 Ben-Zvi, Yad Yitzhak, 145 n. 13 Berbati, 157 Besor region, settlement activity in, xvii, 75–83 Beth Zafafa, 20 n. 8 Beth-Shemesh, 12, 13, 27, 33 Beth-Zur, 107 Beydar, Tell, 169 Biblical citations Numbers 13: 19, 75 Joshua 15, 146 Joshua 15: 47, 77 Joshua 19, 138 Judges 3: 20–25, 170 n. 12 Judges 6: 1–4, 96 1 Samuel 14: 47–48, 81 2 Samuel 17: 15–20, 96 2 Samuel 17: 23, 22 2 Samuel 21: 14, 22 1 Kings 16: 23–24, 45 2 Kings 12: 17, 22, 31 n. 29, 143 2 Kings 14: 20, 22 2 Kings 20: 34, 197

index 2 Kings 23: 6, 20 2 Kings 23: 30, 22 Jeremiah 26: 23, 20 Jeremiah 31: 39–40, 20 Jeremiah 37: 21, 198 Jeremiah 41: 8, 96 Amos 6: 2, 143 1 Chronicles 11: 5–12, 144 2 Chronicles 26: 6, 32 n. 30, 144 Bichrome pottery, 63–64, 66, 214, 216, 217, 220–23 Binford, L. W., 115, 126 bins or troughs for storage, 101 Biran, A., 202 bird motif on the Orpheus Jug, 216–22 Blakhiyeh, 152, 153 Bliss, F. J., 144 Bloch-Smith, E., 24 n. 15, 26 n. 19, 29 n. 24, 35 n. 39 bones of animals revealing urban life patterns, 157–58 used to determine sheep/goat ratios, 116–21, 125 “border approach,” 27, 30 Brak, Tell, 170 n. 13 British Mandatory Government of Palestine, 116, 120 Bronze Age. See Archaeological Periods at the end of the index Broshi, M., 20 n. 6 Building Period I and II and the palaces of Samaria and Megiddo, 45–52 Bunimovitz, S., 13, 27, 58 n. 4, 108, 154, 156–57 burial practices Egyptian burial practices as inspiration, 35 n. 39 and funerary architecture, 19, 35 n. 39 in Jerusalem, 20, 20 nn. 6–7 land use of southeastern slope of Megiddo, xvi, 1–14 in Late Bronze Age and Iron Age, 26 n. 19 reflecting social rank in Iron Age Judah, 19–23 reflecting state formation in Judah, xix–xx, 17–36 sociological significance of, 21–22 See also mortuary practices; ossuaries Burke, K. S., 173 n. 19 burnished pottery, 32 n. 31, 106, 184, 187, 206, 206 n. 12

233

Buseirah, 169 Byzantine period Khirbet Boten in, 147 settlement activity in Besor region, xvii, 75–83 14 C test, 107, 110 campsites, 80, 80 n. 11, 81, 82 Canaan after breakdown of Egyptian administration, xvii, 81 burial practices in, 7, 29, 34 Canaanite cultural-civic tradition, 154, 156 Canaanite Goddess, 215–16 collared-rim jars, 105 nn. 1–3 control of Central Plain, 56, 62, 67, 68, 154, 156 Egypt in, xix, 59, 61, 62, 66, 68, 81, 105 grain storage in Dan, xvii–xviii, 87–102 influence in Israel, 56–57, 62 influence on Philistines, 64, 65–66, 105 nn. 1–3, 154 influence on the “Orpheus Jug,” xx, 213–25 migration of Sea Peoples to, 156, 158, 220–21 “New Canaan,” 29, 29 n. 25 Philistines in, 158, 160 system of city states, 13, 34 zoomorphic vessel, 222 caprids, 215–16 caprine. See goats; sheep caravans, 81, 200, 209 caravansaries, 204, 204 n. 10 carbon dating, 107, 110 Carian alphabet, 48–49 carinated bowls, 106 Carolingian Empire, 28 n. 20 carrying-capacity analysis, 98 n. 15, 120 Carter, J. B., 219 cattle/caprine ratio, 128, 158 Causse, A., 23 n. 13 Cavalli-Sforza, L. L., 33 cemeteries, 22, 79 bench tomb cemeteries, 19, 21, 22, 23, 34 n. 37 Cemetery 500 at el-Far ah, 26 n. 18 extramural, 1, 2, 7, 11, 13

234

index

land use change to housing, 12, 13–14 See also burial practices; tombs central highlands. See highlands Central Hill, 116, 122–24, 127 ceramics, 142 n. 10, 223 Canaanite tradition, 62, 214 n. 2 ceramic material found in storage pits, 91 ceramic material found in tombs, 3–6, 18 Egyptian tradition, 63 “Orpheus Jug,” xx, 213–25 used in bathrooms, 173, 175, 192 cesspits, 167, 169 nn. 8–9, 171, 173 CGIA amphorae, 223 Chalcolithic period. See Archaeological Periods at the end of the index chalk, 97 n. 12 Charlemagne (king and emperor), 28 n. 20 Chicago Expedition, to Megiddo chthonic goddesses, 219 n. 5 Cisjordan, 19 n. 5 cist tombs, 7, 12 cities Aegean sources for Philistine citystate, 154 Canaanite city-states, 13, 34 “city-villages,” 159, 160 extramural neighborhoods in Negev, xvi, 197–210 Megiddo, changes in land use, xvi, 1–14 Megiddo and Omride builders, xx, 45–52 Philistine city-states settlement patterns, xix, 64, 66, 135–60 “proto-city,” 159 “quasi-cities,” 159 Samaria and Omride builders, xx, 45–52 See also names of individual cities; urban centers “clan section” in rock-cut tombs, 23–24 Coastal Plain, xix, 26, 116, 155–56, 223 Egyptian dominance in, 55 n. 1, 56, 59–63, 66, 67–68 impact of Aegean culture on, 156–57 interactions of Philistines, Canaanites, and Egyptians in, 105

settlement patterns of Philistine city-states, xix, 135–60 sheep and goat farming in, 116, 120, 122–24 sociopolitical transition from Late Bronze Age to Iron Age, xviii–xix, 55–69 Cohen, R., 206 collared-rim jars, 105–6, 105 nn. 1–3, 107 collared-rim pithoi, 100 colonnades, use of, 61, 61 n. 11 communal burial pits. See mass-burials complex system, 67, 67 n. 24 composting, 89 cooking-pots, 64–65, 79, 101, 105 n. 3, 106, 107, 203, 204, 206, 214, 214 n. 2 Cribb, R., 125 Crowfoot, J. W., 45 Crusader period, 65 n. 23 cubits as measure, 49–51 culling the caprine herd, 121, 125–26 Currid, J. D., 93 n. 8 Cypro-Geometric Iron Age pottery style, 222–23 Cyprus Cypriot collared rim jars, 106, 108–9, 108 n. 5 Cypriot influence on the “Orpheus Jug,” xx, 213–25 pottery, 106, 107, 108, 108 n. 5, 109, 110, 218 rock-cut bench tombs in, 26 n. 18 Dagan, Y., 146, 146 nn. 15–16 Dalit, Tel, 58 n. 6, 121 Dan, Tel burial tombs in, 12–13 extramural neighborhoods in, 197, 207 grain storage in, xvii–xviii, 87–102 and the House of David, 28 n. 22 sheep and goat farming in, 123 dating of Late Bronze Age, 55 n. 1 of Middle Bronze Age, 2 n. 1 David (king), 25, 27, 28 n. 20, 81 Dekker, R., 115 desert outsiders in Lower Besor, 80, 81 in Negev, 207–9 of Southern Shephelah, 93 n. 8 Dever, W. G., 56

index Dhiban, 19 n. 5 diachonic study of the Coastal Plain, 55–69 dipper juglets, 106 Dodecanesean stirrup jars, 218 Dor, 223 Dothan, M., 217 Dothan, T., 213, 217–18, 220, 222, 223, 224 “Dove Goddess,” 219 Ebal, Mount, 106 economics. See socioeconomics; trade ed-Der, Tell, 170 n. 12 Edomite incense burner, 204 Egypt anchor seals from, 214 n. 2 in Canaan, xix, 59, 61, 62, 66, 68, 81, 105 Carian quarry marks from, 48, 49 collapse of Egyptian hegemony, 55 n. 1, 63, 68, 81 Egyptian burial practices as inspiration, 35 n. 39 Egyptian dominance in the Coastal Plain, 55 n. 1, 56, 59–63, 66, 67–68 Egyptian New Kingdom architecture, 61, 61 n. 11 19th Dynasty, 105 n. 3 timing of military campaigns, 96 20th Dynasty, xvii, 62–63, 81 Egyptian short cubit, 50, 52 Eitun, Tell, 25, 29 Ekron, 31, 64 El (god), 215 el- Ajjul, Tell, 152, 169 El-Amarna letters, 138 el-Far ah, Tel, 26 n. 18, 152, 153, 160, 217 el-Ful, Tell, 97 el-Hayyat, Tell, 114 Engberg, R. M., 2, 3 Enkomi, 218 en-Na beh, Tell, 90 n. 5, 97 n. 12, 106 Epipaleolithic period. See Archaeological Periods at the end of the index Erani, Tel, 143 Erikson-Gini, T., 79 n. 8, 82 n. 15 Erlich, C. S., 142 n. 9 er-Ruqeish, Tell, 153 Ešnunna, 169 es-Sa idyeh, Tell, 169 ethnic neighborhoods, 201

235

excrement, 168 Expedition of Tel Aviv University (to Megiddo), xv, 1, 10 extended families, 23, 23 n. 14 extramural settlements extramural cemeteries in Megiddo, xvi, 1–14 extramural neighborhoods in Negev, xvi, 197–210 spontaneous development of, 209 n. 16 fairs, Roman, 198 n. 4 Fall, P. L., 114 familial and ethnic motives for settlement, 201 Fantalkin, Alexander, xix–xx, 17–36 farming. See agriculture; livestock Faust, A., 23 n. 14, 32 n. 31, 34 n. 36, 208 Feldman, N. W., 33 Festchrift, xv Final Palatial, 219 Fink, A. S., 173 n. 19 Finkelstein, Israel, xv–xvi, xx Archaeology of the Israelite Settlement, The, 87 on dating of the Iron Age, 105, 107 on formation of the Kingdom of Judah, 30, 32 on Hazael campaign, 31 n. 29 Iron Age “Fortress” of the Negev, The, 113 Living on the Fringe, 198 and Megiddo project for Tel Aviv University, xv, 1, 13 and the Orpheus Jug, 213 n. 1 on settlement patterns, 156, 157 study of hinterlands, 146 n. 16 on Tel Asdod, 148 n. 18 on Tel Miqne-Ekron, 139 n. 5, 146 use of Low Chronology, 30 n. 26, 139 n. 5 views on grain pits, 95, 95 nn. 9–10, 97, 98 Fisher, C. S., 2, 45, 46 flush toilets. See toilets food maximizing strategy, 127 foot-stands, 167, 167 n. 5, 169, 172–73, 175 found at Tell Atchana, 177, 179, 181, 183, 185, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193 “fort villages,” 201, 208

236

index

Fosse Temple, 215 Franklin, Norma, xx, 45–52 Fritz, V., 108 funerary architecture, 19, 35 n. 39 Gadot, Yuval, xviii–xix, 55–69 “Galilean” pithoi, 100, 107 Galilee Lower Galilee, 155 sheep and goat farming in, 116, 120, 122–24 Upper Galilee, 97, 98, 107 Gat, Amnon, 79 n. 7, 82 n. 15 Gath, xix, 31, 31 nn. 28–29, 32, 33 n. 34, 142 n. 9, 143, 144, 144 n. 12 See also afit-Gath, Tel Gaza, 82 livestock in, 117, 124 “port power” of, 152 settlement pattern in, xix, 151–54, 154 n. 22, 155, 160 Tel Gaza, 152 n. 21 Gazi, 219 Gazit, Dan, xvii, 75–83, 152 Gerar Estate, 82 Gerisa, Tel, 56, 58, 61–62, 64 Gerstenblith, P., 3 Gezer, Tel, 26, 63, 144 n. 12 settlement pattern in, 139, 146, 155, 160 Gibeon, 29 n. 23 Gilat, 78 n. 5 Giloh, 94 Gitin, S., 139 n. 5 goats goat and sheep husbandry, xviii, 113–28 goat bones, 116–21, 125 Goldstein, L., 21 Gonen, R., 8, 26 n. 18 Gophna, Ram, 75 n. 1, 77, 121 government in Judah and Israel, 27 of Palestine in Byzantine period, 82 settlement activity indicating a tight governing system, 79 n. 6 and the United Monarchy, 28, 28 n. 20 See also politics graffiti in Iron Age Judah, 19 n. 4 grain storage in Dan, xvii–xviii, 87–102 graves two forms of word used in the Bible, 22 n. 11 See also tombs

Grigson, C., 114 Groningen laboratory, 110 Grossman, D., 148 Grotirin, 223 Gudea (king), 51 Guy, P. L. O., 2, 3, 10, 46 Hadar, Tel, 99, 100 Haiman, M., 78, 78 n. 5, 208 Haken, H., 33 alif, Tel, 25–26 n. 17, 29, 29 n. 24, 122, 123 Halpern, B., 23, 24 alutza sand dunes, 76, 77, 80, 81 n. 13, 82, 82 nn. 14–15 Hamoukar, 170 arasim, Tel, 123, 124, 139 Haror, 81 n. 12 Haror, Tel, 75, 81 n. 12 Harrison, T., 214 Harvard Expedition, 45, 46, 48 Hattusha, 168 Hazael (king), 31, 31 nn. 28–29, 143, 144 Hazor, Tel burial tombs in, 12, 13 extramural neighborhoods in, 198, 207 settlement pattern in, 155, 156 storage pits in, 91, 92–93 waste management in, 169, 169 n. 9, 170 n. 12 Hebrew University Expedition, 169 n. 9 Hebron District, 116, 124 Hellenistic period, 147 Hellwing, S., 121 Herzog, Z., 60, 61–62, 114 Hesban, Tell, 116, 120, 122, 123, 124 Hesse, B., 157–58 Hestrin, R., 215 Hezekiah (king), 23, 144, 144 n. 12 highlands, 58 n. 6 beginning of Iron Age I in, xvii, 105–10 central highlands, 24, 24 n. 15, 28, 106, 108, 110 Judean Highlands, 24, 26, 28 n. 22, 29 n. 23 Negev Highlands, 78, 78 n. 5, 82, 82 n. 14 southern highlands, 29 n. 24 Upper Galilee Highland, 98 hinterland, lack of in the Philistine City-States, xix, 135–60

index Hittite instruction text on human excrement, 168 Hoffner, H. A., Jr., 168 “Homage Krater,” 219 orbat/ orvat [ruins]. See names of specific sites Horwitz, L. K., 119, 125 House of David, 28 n. 22 household items, storage of, 88 Humbert, J., 152 n. 21 ˜uÉÉot, 197 “Hypothesis 8” (Saxe), 21–22 ibex motif, 215, 216, 217, 220, 224 iconographic influences on the “Orpheus Jug,” xx, 213–25 Ilan, David, xvii–xviii, 87–102, 105, 107 n. 4 India, extramural neighborhoods, 199–200 “Indian Highway,” 199 infant burials, 8–9 invisible pit graves, 21 Ira, Tel, 25–26 n. 17, 123 Iria, 157 Iron Age. See Archaeological Periods at the end of the index Iron Age “Fortress” of the Negev, The (Finkelstein), 113 Isin-Larsa, 170 n. 12 Islamic period, 80 n. 10, 116 isohyet, 75, 75 n. 2, 76 Israel, Kingdom of, 34 n. 36, 200 n. 6 Assyrian conquest of, 138, 143 burial practices in, 34 n. 37 market trade in Judah and Israel, 200 n. 6 urbanization of, 34 nn. 36–37 Israel, Land of burial practices in, 20, 23 and Gath, 31, 31 n. 27 settlement pattern in, 152, 155–56 transition from Late Bronze to Iron Age in the Coastal Plain, xviii–xix, 55–69 United Monarchy in, xix, 25, 27, 28 n. 20, 34, 34 n. 36 Israel, Northern Israelite Kingdom, xix, 34, 34 n. 37, 52 Omride dynasty, 45, 51 Israel, “proto,” 24, 24 n. 15 Israel Antiquities Authority, 76, 78 n. 5, 82 n. 15, 145 n. 13 Izbet artah, 56, 62–63, 122

237 storage pits in, 90, 92–93, 94–95, 97, 98

Jacob M. Alkow Chair in Archaeology of Israel in the Bronze and Iron Ages, xv Jaffa, 56, 57, 57 n. 3, 59, 60, 62, 66 Jaisalmer, 199–200, 209 jar burials, 6, 7, 8–9, 12 Jehoahaz (king), 31 Jehoash (king), 31 Jehu (king), 31 Jehu dynasty, 46 Jemmeh, Tell, 75, 152, 153 Jerusalem and “border approach,” 27 burial practices in, 17, 19, 20, 20 n. 6, 24, 25, 29 n. 23, 34 as capital of Kingdom, 27–28, 28 nn. 20–21 control over Shephelah and Beersheba, 30, 30 n. 26 extramural neighborhoods in, 197 n. 1, 207 Jerusalem Hills, 17, 25, 29 and “patrimonial model,” 28, 28 nn. 20–21 St. Ètienne Monastery, 24, 35 n. 39 sheep and goat farming in, 120, 122–24 and trade, 31 n. 27 waste management in, 169 Jezreel Valley, 109, 156 Joint Expedition, 45 Jongman, W., 115 Jordan, 114, 115, 116, 117, 122, 123, 124 Jordan River, 57 Josiah (king), 23 Judah, Kingdom of burial practices in, xix–xx, 17–36, 35 n. 39 emergence of statehood for, 17 n. 1, 28 extramural neighborhoods, 202 Judean Highlands, 24, 26, 28 n. 22, 29 n. 23 Judean Hills, 34 state formation, xix–xx, 17–36 trade in, 200 n. 6 Judah, tribe of, 29 Kadesh Barnea, 202, 206, 209 Kana, Tell, 58 Kaplan, J., 60

238

index

Karatiya, 147 n. 17 Karphi, 219 Katz, H., 200 n. 6 Keel, O., 224 Keisan, Tell, 88 Kempinski, A., 3, 8, 105, 108, 213 Kenyon, K. M., 3, 45 Kerman, 199 Ketef Hinnom, 24 Khannia, 219 Khazanov, A. M., 126 Khirbet Boten, 143, 147 Khirbet Man am, 140 Khirbet Za aq, 25–26 n. 17 Killen, J., 118 kill-off patterns in caprine herds, 121, 125–26 King, P. J., 118 Kletter, R., 24, 24 n. 15, 29 Knauf, E. A., 31 n. 27 Knossos Knossos toilets, 169, 170 n. 10 Shrine of the Double Axes, 219 kraters, 213, 218, 220 “Homage Krater,” 219 LaBianca, Ø., 117 Lachish, Tel, 137 n. 3, 138 n. 4 building activity in, 30 burial practices in, 12–13, 20, 20 n. 7 fortification system at, 32, 33 n. 34 and Kingdom of Judah, 32, 33, 33 n. 32 Lachish palace, 33 n. 32 pottery in, 33 n. 32, 137–38, 138 n. 4, 215 land use changes in land use on southeastern slope of Megiddo, xvi, 1–14 extramural neighborhoods in Negev, xvi, 197–210 Late Monarchy period, 22 latrines and lavatories. See toilets “Law of the Minimum,” 126 Lawergren, B., 224 Lederman, Z., 27 Lehmann, G., 77 n. 4, 155 Leibig, J. von, 127 Levant, 222, 224, 225 “longue durée” study of, 58 n. 4, 198 sheep and goat husbandry, xviii, 113–28

slipped and burnished pottery in, 32 n. 31 storage pits in, 88 trade in, 207, 209, 223 waste management in Atchana, xvi–xvii, 165–93 Lev-Tov, J. S. E., 158 LH III, 157, 159, 217, 218, 221–22, 225 “Homage Krater,” 219 Lion Temple, 60 livestock bones of animals, 116–21, 125, 157–58 Philistine livestock farming and urban life patterns, 157–59 sheep and goat husbandry, xviii, 113–28 See also agriculture Living on the Fringe (Finkelstein), 198 lmlk stamps, 144, 144 n. 12 Lod, 117, 123 Loffreda, S., 18 Long, C. R., 219 “longue durée” approach, xviii–xix, 57–59, 58 n. 4, 198 loom weights, 214 n. 2 perforated loom weights, 214 “Low Chronology,” 30, 32, 34 n. 36, 139 n. 5 low settlement unity, 139–40 n. 6 Lower Besor, comparative study of settlement activity, xvii, 75–83 Lower Galilee, 155 lyre player, 213, 214 n. 2, 219, 223, 224, 224 n. 6 Ma amer, Tel, 12, 13 Macalister, R. A. S., 144 Maeir, A. M., 141 n. 8, 142, 142 n. 9, 143 n. 11, 144–45, 145 nn. 13–14 Ma oz, Tel, 140 Malot, Tel, 160 Malta a ( orvat), 79 Mampsis, 204 n. 10 Mana at, 105, 105 n. 3 Manasseh (king), 23 Mardin, 224 Marfoe, L., 58 n. 4 Mari, 170 Marinatos, N., 219, 219 n. 5 market economy. See socioeconomics; trade

index Marouche, 165, 165 n. 1 masonry chamber tombs, 7, 9 masons’ marks, 47–49, 47 n. 1, 52 mass-burials, 7, 9, 11, 20 n. 7 Mazar, A., 55 n. 1, 65, 156, 224 n. 6 Mazar, B., 214 McClellan, T. S., 170–71 n. 14 McCorriston, J., 118 McCown, C. C., 106 Medinet Habu, 218 Megiddo, Tel archaeological expeditions to, xv, 1, 2, 10, 11 burial practices in, xvi, 1–14 determining builders and date of the palace of, xx, 45–52 grain storage in, 88, 100 mass-burials in, 7, 9, 11 and the “Orpheus Jug,” xx, 213–25 peak size of during Middle Bronze III, 11 settlement pattern in, 155, 156 urban land use changes on southeastern slope, xvi, 1–14 Meitlis, Yitzhak, xvii, 105–10 Meqabelein, 19 n. 5 Merneptah (pharaoh), 62 Mesha Stele, 28 n. 22, 52 Mesopotamia, 118, 169, 170 n. 10, 198 n. 4, 200 Messenia, 157 Mgha ar Hills, 140 Michal, Tel, 59, 124 Midea, 157 Minoan symbols, 218 Minoan toilets, 170 n. 10 Miqne-Ekron, Tel figurine of goddess found in, 215 pottery iconography in, 215, 216, 220 relations with Tel afit-Gath, 142, 144–46, 147 settlement pattern in, xix, 139–41, 139 n. 5, 142, 147, 150, 157–58, 160 sheep and goat farming in, 122, 123 Mitanni palace, 170 n. 13 Mivta im, 77 n. 4 Moab, 52, 170 n. 12 Monarchic period, 18, 20, 23 n. 13 Monochrome pottery, 109, 214, 216, 218, 220, 222 Morris, I., 21 mortality profile and caprine products, 122–24, 126–27

239

mortuary practices, 7, 22 See also burial practices Mount Ebal, 106 Mount Zion, 24 Mo a, 96 n. 11 multiculture and extramural neighborhoods Negev, xvi, 197–210 Muslim fatwa about toilets, 167–68 Mycenaean culture burial practices in, 26 n. 18 Mycenaean collared-rim jars, 106, 108–9, 108 n. 5 Mycenaean III C 1 style, 213, 214, 218 pottery, 106, 107, 108, 108 n. 5, 109, 110, 213 symbols and designs, 213, 214, 216, 217, 218–19, 220 See also Aegean culture Na aman, N., 143–44 Na al Aroer, 204 Na al Besor basin, 76, 77, 79, 136, 151–54 Na al Ela, 142–43 n. 10 Na al Lachish basin, 142, 147–49, 147 n. 17 Na al Shunra, 81 n. 13 Na al Soreq basin, 139–41 Nahshoni, P., 78 n. 5 Nami, Tel, 105–6, 105 n. 2 Navon, A., 93 n. 8 Neev, D., 137 n. 3 Negev, 76, 137 n. 3 burial practices in, 25, 29 n. 24 extramural neighborhoods, xvi, 197–210 Negev Highlands, 78, 78 n. 5, 82, 82 n. 14 sheep and goat farming in, 116, 120, 122–24, 127, 128 storage pits in, 97 Negev Ware, 79 neighborhoods ethnic neighborhoods, 201 extramural neighborhoods in Negev, xvi, 197–210 Netiv ha- Asara, 150 New Archaeology, 21 “New Canaan,” 29, 29 n. 25 19th Dynasty in Egypt, 105 n. 3 Nitzanim beach, 147 nomads. See desert outsiders “nonmarket trade,” 114

240

index

Northern Kingdom, xix, 31, 34 builders and date of the palaces of Samaria and Megiddo, xx, 45–52 North-Sinai Massive, 76 Nuzi, 170 Omride dynasty, 30, 31, 46 and the palaces of Megiddo and Samaria, xx, 45–52 open system, 67, 67 n. 24 “order parameter,” 67 Oriental Institute, University of Chicago, 45, 46, 166, 166 n. 3, 173–76 Orontes River, 165, 170–71 n. 14 “Orpheus Jug,” xx, 213–25 ossuaries, 21 Ottoman period, 59 palaces builders and date of palaces of Megiddo and Samaria, xx, 45–52 compared to private homes in Atchana, 170–71 n. 14 at Hattusha, 168 of King of Moab, 170 n. 12 Lachish palace, 33 n. 32 Mitanni palace, 170 n. 13 Palace 1104 (Egyptian Governor’s residency in Aphek), 61 Palace 1723, 49 n. 2 Palace 1723 (in Megiddo), 46–50 Palace 4430 (in Aphek), 60–61 Palace I and II (in Tell el Ajjul), 169 n. 8 Palace Level VII in Atchana, 177–78 Palace of Omri (in Samaria), 45–46, 47–51 Palaestina Prima, 82 Palaestina Tersiasive Salutaris, 82 Palaikastro, 157 Palatial era, 157 Palestine British Mandatory Government of Palestine, 116, 120 burial practices in, 24, 24 n. 15, 26 n. 18 extramural neighborhoods in, 197, 200, 207 governmental structure, 82 land ownership in, 96 Palestinian Late Bronze Age, 26 n. 18 sheep and goat farming in, 122–24, 128 Survey of Western Palestine, 18

Palestine Exploration Fund, 55 palm tree symbolism, 215–16, 217, 220, 224 Palma im, 140 Papyrus Anastasi I, 60 Patish, 78, 79 n. 7, 82 patrilineal kinships, 23, 94 “patrimonial model,” 27–28 pax Assyriaca, 207 Payne, S., 121 perforated loom weights, 214 permanent settlements comparative study of Lower Besor region, xvii, 75–83 nomads enjoying advantage of, 201 pit storage and permanent settlements, 96 Petras, 157 Petrie, F., 169 n. 8 petrographic examinations, 59 n. 9 “Pharaoh’s Daughter” tomb, 35 n. 39 Philistia Aegean sources for the formation of the Philistine city-state, 154 Bichrome pottery, 63–64, 66, 214, 216, 217, 220–23 burial practices in, 29, 34 Philistine dominance, 31 n. 27, 32 n. 30, 56–57, 63–66, 67, 68 Philistine influence on pottery decorations and cooking-pots, 64–65, 66, 105 Philistine influence on the “Orpheus Jug,” xx, 213–25 Philistine Monorchrome pottery, 214, 216, 218, 220, 222 renewal of, 29 slipped and burnished pottery in, 32 n. 31 system of city states, 34 urban settlement patterns in Philistine City-States, xix, 135–60 Phoenicia, 32 n. 31, 48 pigs, 157, 158, 159 Pillar Figurine, 204 pit tombs, 6, 7, 9, 12, 20, 20 n. 8, 21, 22 pithoi, 98, 100, 100 n. 16, 101, 107 pits for storage, 88–100 construction of, 90–91 in en-Na beh, 90 n. 5 intrasite spatial and temporal distribution of, 92–93 marking of, 93 n. 8 Polanyi, Karl, 114, 201 n. 7

index politics burial practices as a reflection of state formation, xix–xx, 17–36 transition from Late Bronze to Iron Age in the Coastal Plain, xviii–xix, 55–69 See also government polos-wearing goddesses, 219, 219 n. 5 Porada, E., 224 Poran, Tel, 147, 148 “port power,” 151, 152 Portugali, J., 33–34, 67 post-Palatial era, 157, 219 pottery in Arad, 33 n. 33 Bichrome pottery, 63–64, 66, 214, 216, 217, 220, 221, 222, 223 burnished bowl, 206 n. 12 burnished pottery, 32 n. 31, 106, 184, 187 Canaanite influence, 66, 213–25 comparison of Late Bronze Age and Iron Age I pottery in the highlands, xvii, 105–10 Cypriot influence, 3, 106, 108, 213–25 Cypro-Geometric Iron Age pottery style, 222 Egyptian influence, 63, 66 found in pit storage units, 88, 91–92 Judean influence, 81 “Orpheus Jug,” xx, 213–25 Philistine influence, 65, 81, 213–25 Philistine Monorchrome, 214, 216, 218, 220, 222 Proto White Painted pottery style, 222 use of slip and burnish on, 32 n. 31, 106 use of to determine settlement patterns and time periods, 3–4, 33 nn. 32–33, 137, 145 n. 14 Prosymna, 157 Proto White Painted pottery style, 222, 223 “proto-city,” 159 “proto-Israel,” 24, 24 n. 15 proto-Palatial East Crete, 157 “proto-urban” society, 114 puticuli, 20 n. 7 PWP. See Proto White Painted pottery style Pylos, 157, 219 Qasile, Tell, 56, 64–65, 122, 217, 221 Qiri, Tell, 109, 123

241

“quasi-cities,” 159 Qubur el-Walaida, 152, 153 Qumran-type graves, 20 n. 8 Ragette, F., 167 Rajasthan, 199 Ramesses II (pharaoh), 60, 62 Ramesses IV (pharaoh), 62 n. 16 ramparts, 12, 13–14 rank-size rule, 5, 139–40 n. 6, 141 n. 8 Red Lustrous Wheelmade ware, 109 Redding, R. W., 117–18, 119, 125 Rehoboam (king), 144 Reisner, G., 45 restrooms in Atchana in the Late Bronze Age, xvi–xvii, 165–93 differentiated from toilets and bathroom, 166 n. 4 smaller than bathrooms, 172 Woolley’s records of at Atchana, 177–93 Reynolds, P. J., 98 “risk-free trading,” 114 rock-cut bench tombs multichambered vs. single-chambered, 23–24 use of in Judah as a reflection of state formation, xix–xx, 17–36 rock-cut pit tombs, 7 Rome “fort villages,” 201, 208 mass-burials in, 20 n. 7 Roman period, 116, 123, 137 n. 3, 169 suburbium development, 198 n. 4 Rosen, A. M., 137 n. 3 Rosen, B., 94, 96 Rosen, S. A., 81 rosette stamps, 146 Rosh ha- Ayin, 105 n. 1 Rosh Zayit ( orbat), 96, 99 rubbish disposal, 88–89, 92 Ruwibi, 153 Sahab, 19 n. 5 St. Ètienne Monastery (in Jerusalem), 24, 35 n. 39 St. Stephens church (in Be er S ema ), 82 Samaria, 120 determining builders and date of the palace of, xx, 45–52 Samarian Hills, 57 Samarkand, 204 n. 10

242

index

Sargon II (king), 20 n. 7, 144 Sasa, Tel, 88, 91, 107–8, 122 Sasson, Aharon, xviii, 113–28 Saul (king), 81 Saxe, A. A., 21–22 scarabs, 4 n. 4, 60, 62 n. 16, 105 n. 3, 106, 107, 213 scarcity, coping with, 115 Schiffer, M. B., 92 Schloen, J. D., 166 n. 3 Schumacher, G., 45, 46, 222 Sea Peoples, 156, 158, 217, 218, 220 Second Temple period, 20, 21 security as goal of herding, 115, 117–18, 119, 120–21, 128 Sefad District, 116 “self-organization” paradigm, 33 n. 35, 68 self-sufficient economy, 125, 127 Semitic writing system, 48 Sennacherib (king), 144 Sera , Tel, 75 settlement activity abandonment of settlements, 34 n. 36, 78, 136, 140, 157 comparative study of Besor region, xvii comparative study of Besor region periods, 75–83 extramural neighborhoods in Negev, xvi, 197–210 indicating a tight governing system, 79 n. 6 rank-size rule, 139–40 n. 6, 141 n. 8 settlement patterns of Philistine-city States, xix, 135–60 trade motives for, 200–201 Shalaf, Tel, 139 Sharuhen, 75 Shavit, Alon, xix, 135–60 Shechem, 88 sheep husbandry in Southern Levant, xviii, 113–28 sheep bones, 116–21, 125 Shephelah burial practices in, xix, 25, 26 n. 19, 27 integration into Kingdom of Judah, 29–30, 31, 33, 34 n. 37, 35 settlement pattern in, 105, 136 sheep and goat farming in, 116, 117, 120, 122–24

Sherrat, A., 118 “shifting boundaries” model, 58 n. 4 Shiloh, 88, 93, 105 n. 3, 108–9, 110 n. 6, 122 Shiqma basin, 149 Shishak (pharaoh), 139 n. 5 short cubit, use of, 49–51, 49 n. 2, 52 Shoshenq I (king), 29 nn. 23,25, 31 Shrine of the Double Axes, 219 Silk Road, 204 n. 10 silos, 88, 98, 100–101, 204 Simeon, tribe of, 29 Singer-Avitz, L., 31 n. 29, 148 n. 18 sitting toilets, 169–70, 170 n. 10 slipped and burnished pottery, 32 n. 31, 106 Smith, P., 125 social rank differentiaion of classes after a monarchy established, 23 n. 13 indicated by bench tombs, 19–23, 23 n. 12 leading to emergence of formal cemeteries, 22 socioeconomics implications of grain storage in Dan, xvii–xviii, 87–102 self-sufficient economy, 125, 127 sheep and goat husbandry in Southern Levant, xviii, 113–28 sociopolitical activities burial practices in Judah as a reflection of state formation, xix–xx, 17–36 transition from Late Bronze to Iron Age in the Coastal Plain, xviii–xix, 55–69 Solomon (king), 25, 27, 28 n. 20, 46 southern highlands. See highlands spatial distribution of Middle Bronze Megiddo tombs, 8–10 Spronk, K., 26 n. 19 squat toilets, 167 n. 5, 169–70, 170 nn. 10–11, 172–73 as natural toilet posture, 169 n. 6 Stager, L. E., 118, 151, 156 stamps lmlk stamps, 144, 144 n. 12 rosette stamps, 146 state formation burial practices as a reflection of state formation, xix–xx, 17–36 Carolingian Empire, 28 n. 20 Stepansky, Y., 107

index Stiebing, W. H., Jr., 26 n. 18 storage of household items, 88 implications of grain storage in Dan, xvii–xviii, 87–102 of pottery in pits, 88, 91–92 subfloor storage, 88 strainer jug, 224–25 stratigraphy of Middle Bronze Megiddo tombs, 3–4, 8–10 transition from Late Bronze to Iron Age in the Coastal Plain, 68 subsistence vs. security as goal of herding, 115, 117–18, 119, 120–21, 128 suburbium development in Rome, 198 n. 4 Sumaka i Fink, Amir, xvi–xvii, 165–93 Survey of Western Palestine, 18 survival subsistence strategy, 115, 120, 125, 126 Sykes, P. M., 199 symbolism and the Orpheus Jug, 214, 215, 216–22, 224, 224 n. 6 “synergetics,” 33 n. 35 synoecism, 157 Taanach, Tel, 110 tabun, 206 n. 12 Tainter, J. R., 22 Tarsus, 224 Ta yinat, Tell, 165–66, 166 n. 2 Tchernov, E., 119 Teheran, 199 Tel Aviv, 137 n. 3 Tel Aviv University, xv expedition to Megiddo, xv, 1, 10 Tellō, 169 Tel/Tell [mound]. See names of specific sites temples Lion Temple, 60 Tell Qasile temples, 65–66 temporary and permanent settlements in Lower Besor, xvii, 75–83 Thar Desert, 199 Thareani-Sussely, Yifat, xvi, 197–210 Tiryns, 157, 159, 219 Tiy (queen), 60 toilets, 169 n. 8, 170 n. 12 in Atchana in the Late Bronze Age, xvi–xvii, 165–93

243

differentiated from restroom and bathroom, 166 n. 4 Muslim fatwa about, 167–68 natural toilet posture, 169 n. 6 Woolley’s records of at Atchana, 177–93 tombs and extended families, 23 n. 14 in Iron Age Judah as a reflection of state formation, xix–xx, 17–36 land use of southeastern slope of Megiddo, xvi, 1–14 “Pharaoh’s Daughter” tomb, 35 n. 39 tombs, excavated Tomb 23 (in Dan), 12 Tomb 51 (in Megiddo), 9 Tomb 238 (in Megiddo), 8–9 Tomb 247 (in Megiddo), 8–9 Tomb 254 (in Megiddo), 9 Tomb 868 (in Megiddo), 10 Tomb 902b–902d (in Dan), 12 Tomb 911 (in Megiddo), 9 Tomb 1181 (in Hazor), 12 Tombs 9, 13, and 17 in (Beth-Shemesh), 12 trade, 115, 125, 200–201 caravans, 81, 200, 209 and exports, 125, 126 and Jerusalem, 31 n. 27 in Judah and Israel, 200 n. 6 motivating market development, 200–201 “nonmarket trade,” 114 “risk-free trading,” 114 Southern Arabian trade, 207–8 See also socioeconomics Transjordan, 19 n. 5 trapeze-shaped bench tombs, 26 n. 18 troughs or bins for storage, 101 20th Dynasty of Egypt, xvii, 62–63, 81 “Tyrian” pithoi, 107 Ugarit, 170, 170 n. 12, 215, 216 Ünal, A., 168 United Monarchy, xix, 17, 25, 26, 27, 28 n. 20, 32 n. 31, 34, 34 n. 36 University College, London, 173 n. 17 University of Chicago Expedition, 2, 3–4, 11, 46 Upper Galilee, 97, 98, 107 Ur, 170 n. 12 Urartu, statehood of, 34 n. 38

244

index

urban centers bones of animals revealing living patterns in, 157–58 changes in urban land use in Megiddo, xvi, 1–14 first urban centers in the Coastal Plain, 58 lack of hinterlands and settlement patterns of Philistine City-States, xix, 135–60 multicultural extramural neighborhoods in Negev, xvi, 197–210 “proto-urban” society, 114 urban elites in Judah, 34 urbanization of Kingdom of Israel, 34 n. 37 See also cities Urim, 76, 79, 152 Ussishkin, D., 32 Uza ( orvat ), xvi, 122, 202, 205, 206, 208 Uziel, J., 142–43 n. 10–11 Uzziah (king), 31, 32 n. 30, 144 Vari h, 165 n. 1 Wachsmann, S., 217, 218 Wadi Luzit, 143 Wadi Qina, 205 Waldbaum, J., 26 n. 18 walls, excavated City Wall 325 (in Megiddo), 51 City Wall 415 (in Yoqne am), 12 Wall 03–2073 (in Atchana), 175 Wall 03–2091 (in Atchana), 174, 175 Wall 94/F/15 (in Megiddo), 10 n. 6, 11 Wall 220 (K) (in Megiddo), 10–11 Wall 3182 (in Megiddo), 5 Wapnish, P., 158

washing facilities. See restrooms waste management in Atchana, xvi–xvii, 165–93 Weber, Max, 27–28 Wehr Dictionary, 166 n. 2 White-Slip I and II ware, 109 Woolley, Leonard, 165–66, 167 n. 5, 170–71, 170–71 nn. 14–15, 172–73, 177–93 Yad Mordechai, 150 Yadin, Y., 46 Yahweh, 215 Yarkon-Ayalon basin, xix, 31 n. 27, 56, 57, 62, 66, 136 sociopolitical transition from Late Bronze Age, 55–69 See also Coastal Plain Yasur-Landau, Assaf, xx, 157, 158–59, 213–25 Yavneh Camp, 140 Yener, K. A., 166 n. 3 Yezerski, I., 19 n. 5, 25 Yon, M., 218 Yoqne am, 12, 13 afit-Gath, Tel relations with Tel Miqne-Ekron, 142, 144–46, 147 settlement pattern in, xix, 139, 142–47, 142–43 nn. 9–10, 145 n. 14, 147 n. 17, 150, 160 See also Gath Zahiriyye, 25–26 n. 17 Zakros, 157 Ze elim, 76, 77 n. 4, 78, 79, 79 n. 9, 80 Zimhoni, O., 138 Zion, Mount, 24 Zippor, Tel, 147 n. 17 Zuckerman, S., 169 n. 9

Archaeological Periods Epipaleolithic period, 80 n. 11 Chalcolithic period, 80 n. 11, 114 Bronze Age sheep and goat husbandry in Southern Levant, xviii, 113–28 shift from Bronze to Iron Age, 55–69, 58 n. 4, 105–10

Early Bronze Age grain storage in, 100 in Megiddo, 2 “proto-urban” and urban society in, 114 settlement pattern in, 58, 58 n. 6, 114, 197 sheep and goat farming in, 121

index Intermediate Bronze Age number of tombs found in Megiddo from, 8 transition to Middle Bronze Age, 8 Middle Bronze Age cemeteries on southeastern slope of Megiddo, 9 transition from Intermediate Bronze Age, 8 urban land use changes in Megiddo, xvi, 1–14 Middle Bronze Age I cemeteries on southeastern slope of Megiddo, 11, 12 ceramic phases found in, 3 dating of, 2 n. 1 Middle Bronze Age II cemeteries on southeastern slope of Megiddo, xvi dating of, 2 n. 1 establishment of Aphek, 58 fortified settlements, 75 urban land use changes in Megiddo, xvi, 1–14 Middle Bronze Age III cemeteries on southeastern slope of Megiddo, xvi, 1–14 dating of, 2 n. 1 Late Bronze Age in Aegean culture, xix bench tombs in Judah, 24, 25–26, 26 nn. 18–19, 29 cemeteries on southeastern slope of Megiddo, xvi, 1–14 dating of, 55 n. 1 in Palestine, 26 n. 18 pottery, comparison of Late Bronze Age and Iron Age I, xvii, 105–10 pottery in, 214, 214 n. 2, 216 n. 4, 217, 222, 223, 224 settlement pattern in, 135, 138, 154, 155, 156, 157 sociopolitical transition to Iron Age in the Coastal Plain, xviii–xix, 55–69 storage pits in, 90, 91, 96 waste management in Atchana, xvi–xvii, 165–93

245

Iron Age burial practices during, xix–xx, 17–36 and Canaanite cultural identity, xx dating of, 105, 107 determining builders and date of the palaces of Samaria and Megiddo, xx, 45–52 extramural neighborhoods in Negev, xvi, 197–210 settlement patterns of Philistine city-states, xix, 135–60 sheep and goat husbandry in Southern Levant, xviii, 113–28 shift from Bronze to Iron Age, 55–69, 58 n. 4, 105–10 sociopolitical transition from Late Bronze Age in the Coastal Plain, xviii–xix, 55–69 state formation during, xix–xx, 17–36 toilets in, 169 Early Iron Age decorative motifs, 224 earth and fertility goddesses, 215 grain storage in Dan, 87–102 Omride builders in Samaria and Megiddo, 45–52 Iron Age I abandonment of rural sites, 34 n. 36 burial practices during, 2, 8 n. 5, 24, 24 n. 15, 25, 25–26 n. 17, 26, 29 comparison of Late Bronze Age and Iron Age I pottery in the highlands, xvii grain storage in Dan, xvii–xviii, 87–102 pottery comparison of Late Bronze Age and Iron Age I in the highlands, xvii, 105–10 “proto-Israel,” 24 rise of Kingdom of Israel, 34, 34 n. 36 settlement patterns of Philistine city-states, xix, 135–60 shift from Bronze to Iron Age, 55–69, 58 n. 4, 105–10 Iron Age IA Cypriot imports to Levant during, 223 goat and sheep husbandry in Southern Levant, 122–24

246

index

Iron Age IB Cypriot imports to Levant during, 223 settlement activity in Besor region, xvii, 75–83

Iron Age IIA burial practices during, 24, 25–26 n. 17 grain storage in Dan, 88, 96, 96 n. 11 Jerusalem in, 96 n. 11

Iron Age II and “border approach,” 27 burial practices during, 25, 26 n. 19, 29, 29 n. 23, 34 n. 37 and extended families, 23 n. 14 extramural neighborhoods in Negev, xvi, 198, 202–6, 207 Jerusalem and trade, 31 n. 27 settlement patterns of Philistine city-states, xix, 135–60 settlements in Lower Besor, 78 survey of southern Coastal Plain, 135–36

Iron Age IIB burial practices during, 18, 24, 25, 25–26 n. 17, 26, 29, 29 nn. 23–24 creation of new elites, 18 Late Iron Age Arabian trade route during, 208 burial practices during, 25–26 n. 17 extramural neighborhoods in, 197, 209 fortresses in, 202, 208

PLATES

changes on the southeastern slope of tel megiddo

249

Fig. 1. The excavated area on the southeastern slope of Tel Megiddo (after Guy and Engberg 1938: Fig. 2)

250

evan arie

Fig. 2. Spatial distribution of the Middle Bronze tombs on the southeastern slope (after Guy and Engberg 1938: Pl. 1)

trademarks of the omride builders?

Fig. 1. The Mason’s Masks

Fig. 2. The Megiddo—Palace 1723

251

252

norma franklin

Fig. 3. Samaria—the Omride Palace

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

253

Fig. 1. Map of central Coastal Plain with settlements dated to Late Bronze and Iron Age I periods

254

yuval gadot

Fig. 2. Reconstructed plan of Palace 4430 at Aphek

Fig. 3. Locally made Egyptian-styled vessels found at Aphek

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

255

1-3. Ashdoda figurines found at Aphek

4. Clay tablet, possibly administrative document written in Philistine script

Fig. 4. Philistine finds from Aphek that were manufactured at Ashkelon

Fig. 5. Types of cooking-pots found at Aphek X12 and at Tell Qasille XII–X

256 yuval gadot

continuity and change in the late bronze to iron age

257

Fig. 6. The transformation of sociopolitical order in the Yarkon-Ayalon basin

Fig. 7. The Late Bronze-Iron Age transformation at Israel’s central Coastal Plain viewed as a furcative change

258

david ilan

Fig. 1. The site of Tel Dan. Iron Age I remains were found in all areas excavated

the case of tel dan

259

Fig. 2. A plan of Area B, Stratum VI. Note the large numbers of pits

Fig. 3. A plan of Area B, Stratum V. Note the small number of pits and large number of pithoi, relative to Stratum VI (Fig. 2)

260

david ilan

Fig. 4. A stone-lined pit in Area B (L1225) containing a secondary deposit of refuse, most prominently fragmented ceramic vessels. This is of the more common cylindrical variety

Fig. 5. Unlined pits sunk into an earlier consolidated Late Bronze Age pebble fill

the case of tel dan

261

Fig. 6. A stone-lined pit in Area M (L8185) with the more unusual “beehive” shape

Fig. 7. A row of pithoi lining a wall—their most frequent position in Iron Age I sites

262

david ilan

Fig. 8. “Galilean” pithoi

Fig. 9. Collared-rim pithoi

the case of tel dan

263

Fig. 10. Tel Dan Stratum IVB, Area B, L4710: a possible feed bin abutting a wall (left)

264

aharon sasson

Fig. 1. Sites mentioned in the text

reassessing the bronze and iron age economy

Fig. 2. Geographic regions of the Land of Israel

265

266

alon shavit

Qasile Apheq

Yarqon basin

Ay al

on

ba

si

So

re k

ba

n Gezer

si

n

Ekron Batas

La

Ashdod

ch

is

h

Béit Shemesh

ba

si

Ashkelon

iq

Erani

m

a

ba

Lachish

si

so

rb

Tell es-Safi

Zayit

Sh Be

n

n

Hesi

as

Gaza

in

G

er

ar

ba

si

n

Sera

Haror 0

10km

Borders of the study area Basin borders Fig. 1. The southern Coastal Plain and the boundaries of the settlement complexes

settlements patterns of philistine city-states

267

settlements

3

2

1

0 3–5

1–3

ha

0.5–1

0.1

Fig. 2. The settlement complex of Tel Miqne-Ekron: the number of settlements during the 10th century BCE according to settlement size

Dunams

100

10

1

1

10 100 Settlements by Rank

1000

Fig. 3. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex in the Tel Miqne-Ekron region during the 10th century BCE

268

alon shavit

4

settlements

3

2

1

0

3–5

1–3

0.5–1

0.1

ha Fig. 4. The settlement complex of Tel Miqne-Ekron: the number of settlements during the 9th century BCE according to settlement size

5 settlements

4 3 2 1 0

3–5

1–3

0.5–1

0.2–0.5

0.1–0.2

0.1

ha Fig. 5. The settlement complex of Tel Miqne-Ekron: the number of settlements during the 8th century BCE according to settlement size

settlements patterns of philistine city-states

269

settlements

4 3 2 1 0

10+

3–5

1–3

0.5–1 ha

0.2–0.5

0.1–0.2

0.1

Fig. 6. The settlement complex of Tel Miqne-Ekron: the number of settlements during the 7th century BCE according to settlement size

Dunams

1000

100

10

1

1

10 100 Settlements by Rank

1000

Fig. 7. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex of Tel Miqne-Ekron during the 7th century BCE

270

alon shavit

45

41

40 35

ha

30

25.3

25 20

16.7

19.3

15 10 5 0 10th cent.

9th cent.

8th cent.

7th cent.

Fig. 8. The populated area in the region of Tel Miqne-Ekron during the different phases of the Iron Age II

30 25.3

25

ha

20

10

14.9

14.8

15 9.1

5 0 10th cent.

9th cent.

8th cent.

7th cent.

Fig. 9. The settled area at Tel ¶afit-Gath and the surrounding sites during the various stages of the Iron Age II

settlements patterns of philistine city-states

271

6 settlements

5 4 3 2 1 0 10+

1–3

0.5–1

0.2–0.5

0.1–0.2

0.1

ha

Fig. 10. The settlement complex of Tel ¶afit-Gath: the number of settlements during the 8th century BCE according to settlement size

1000

Dunams

100

10

1

1

100 10 Settlements by Rank

1000

Fig. 11. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex of Tel ¶afit-Gath in the 8th century BCE

272

alon shavit

6

settlements

5 4 3 2 1 0 3–5

0.1–0.3

0.5–1 ha

0.2–0.5

0.1

Fig. 12. The settlement complex of Tel ¶afit-Gath: the number of settlements during the 7th century BCE according to settlement size 2

settlements

2

1

0

1

5–10

1

1

0.2–0.5

0.1–0.2

0.1

ha Fig. 13. The settlement complex of Tel Ashdod: the number of settlements during the 10th century BCE according to settlement size

settlements patterns of philistine city-states

273

6 settlements

5 4 3 2 1 0 10+

3–5

1–3

0.6–0.9 0.2–0.5

0.2

0.1

ha Fig. 14. The settlement complex of Tel Ashdod: the number of settlements during the 8th century BCE according to settlement size

Dunams

100

10

1 1

10

100

Settlements by Rank Fig. 15. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex of Tel Ashdod in the 7th century BCE

274

alon shavit

6

6

settlements

5 4 3

3

2

2 1

2

1

0 5–10

3–5

0.6–0.9 ha

0.2–0.5

0.1

Fig. 16. The settlement complex of Tel Ashdod: the number of settlements during the 7th century BCE according to settlement size

6

settlements

5 4 3 2 1 0 5–9.9

0.6–0.9

0.2–0.5 ha

0.1–0.2

0.1

Fig. 17. The settlement complex of Tel Ashkelon: the number of settlements during the 8th century BCE according to settlement size

settlements patterns of philistine city-states

275

Dunams

100

10

1 1

10

100

Settlements by Rank Fig. 18. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex of Tel Ashkelon in the 7th century BCE

settlements

5 4 3 2 1 0

5–9.9

1–2.9

0.6–0.9

0.2–0.5

0.1–0.2

0.1

ha Fig. 19. The settlement complex of Tel Ashkelon: the number of settlements during the 7th century BCE according to settlement size

276

alon shavit

4

settlements

4

4 3

3 2 1

1

10

3–5

1 0

1

1–3

0.5–1 ha

1

0.2–0.5

0.1–0.2

0.1

Fig. 20. The settlement complex of the Na˜al Besor basin: the number of settlements during the 10th century BCE according to the settlement size

Dunams

100

10

1

1

10 Settlements by Rank

100

Fig. 21. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex of the Na˜al Besor basin during the 10th century BCE

settlements patterns of philistine city-states

3

3

settlements

277

2

1

1

10

3–5

1

0

1

1–3 ha

1

0.5–1

0.1

Fig. 22. The settlement complex of the Na˜al Besor basin: the number of settlements during the 9th century BCE according to settlement size

3

settlements

3 2

2

1 0

10

2 1

1

3–5

1–3

0.2–0.5

2

0.1–0.2

0

ha Fig. 23. The settlement complex of the Na˜al Besor basin: the number of settlements during the 8th century BCE according to settlement size

278

alon shavit

Dunams

100

10

1 1

10 Settlements by Rank

100

Fig. 24. A logarithmic graph of the settlement complex in the Na˜al Besor basin during the 7th century BCE 5

settlements

5 4

3

3 2

2

1

1

1 0

2

10

3–5

1–3

0.5–1 ha

1 0.2–0.5 0.1–0.2

0.1

Fig. 25. The settlement complex of the Na˜al Besor basin: the number of settlements during the 7th century BCE according to settlement size

waste management at tell atchana

279

Fig. 1. Toilets in Nuzi (after Starr 1937–1939; 163, Fig. 24). Reprinted by permission of the publishers from Nuzi: Report of the excavations at Yorgan Tepa near Kirkuk, p. 163, Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, Copyright © 1939 by the president and fellows of Harvard College

280

amir sumakaxi fink

Fig. 2. The Level IV palace at Tell Atchana, where Woolley excavated four restrooms and three bathrooms (after Woolley 1955: Fig. 44). Reprinted by permission of the Society of Antiquaries of London

waste management at tell atchana

281

Fig. 3. The toilets in room 5 of the Level IV palace (after Woolley 1955 Pl. XXVa). Reprinted by permission of the Society of Antiquaries of London

Fig. 4. The Oriental Institute University of Chicago Expedition to Tell Atchana (Image by E. J. Struble)

282

amir sumakaxi fink

Fig. 5. The west wing of Area 2: Local Phase 2 (Image by E. J. Struble)

waste management at tell atchana

283

Fig. 6. Rooms 03-2077 and 03-2092 in Square 44.45 (Image by E. J. Struble)

284

amir sumakaxi fink

Fig. 7. Restroom 03-2092 during the excavation (photo by N.-L. Roberts)

waste management at tell atchana

Fig. 8. Drain 03-2039 (photo by N.-L. Roberts)

285

286

amir sumakaxi fink

Fig. 9. Plaster inside drain 03-2039 (photo by N.-L. Roberts)

Fig. 10. Wall 03-2091 (photo by N.-L. Roberts)

waste management at tell atchana

Fig. 11. Jug R03-1542 (photo by N.-L. Roberts)

Fig. 12. Plate R03-1851 (photo by N.-L. Roberts)

287

288

yifat thareani-sussely

Fig. 1. Map of Iron Age II sites in the Beersheba Valley

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev

Fig. 2. Tel {Aroer—general plan

289

Fig. 3. Tel {Aroer, Area D—general plan

290 yifat thareani-sussely

Fig. 4. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1003 and 1411—pottery assemblages

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev 291

Fig. 5. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1417—pottery assemblage

292 yifat thareani-sussely

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev

Fig. 6. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1417—pottery assemblage

293

Fig. 7. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1421—pottery assemblage

294 yifat thareani-sussely

Fig. 8. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1421—pottery assemblage

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev 295

Fig. 9. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1443—pottery assemblage

296 yifat thareani-sussely

Fig. 10. Tel {Aroer, Area D, L. 1443—pottery assemblage

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev 297

298

yifat thareani-sussely

Fig. 11. Tel {Aroer, Area A—general plan

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev

Fig. 12. Tel {Aroer, Area A—selected pottery

299

300

yifat thareani-sussely

Fig. 13. Tel {Aroer, Area A—selected pottery

extramural neighborhoods in the iron age negev

Fig. 14. Æorvat {Uza—general plan

301

302

yifat thareani-sussely

Fig. 15. Tel {Aroer—southern Arabian inscription from Area D bearing the letter ‫ח‬

a message in a jug

303

Fig. 1. 1. The “Orpheus Jug.” After Loud 1948: Pl. 76: 1 2. A krater from Ashdod, Stratum XIII. After Dothan and Zukerman 2004: Fig. 19: 3 3. A krater from Ekron, Stratum VI. After Dothan and Zukerman 2004: Fig. 19: 2 4. A jug from Azor. After Dothan 1982: Fig. 48 5. A strainer jug from Tell {Aitun. After Dothan 1982: Fig. 29 6. A LHIIIC stirrup jar from Kalymnos. After Mountjoy 1999: Fig. 464: 19

304

assaf yasur-landau

Fig. 2. 1. A krater from Lachish, Fosse Temple III. After Tufnell, Inge, and Harding 1940: Pl. XLVIII: 250 2. A bowl from Lachish Level VI. After Aharoni 1975: Pl. 39: 11 3. An inscribed jug from Lachish, Fosse Temple III. After Keel and Uehlinger 1998: Illustration 81 4. A jar from Megiddo Stratum VIIB. After Loud 1948: Pl. 64: 4 5. A jug from Megiddo. After Guy 1938: Pl. 134 6. A collar-necked jar from Kalymnos. After Mountjoy 1999: Fig. 463: 14 7. A figurine from Revadim. After Keel and Uehlinger 1998: Fig. 89

a message in a jug

305

Fig. 3. 1. A krater from Enkomi. After Wedde 2000: No. 644 2. A pyxis from Tragana. After Wedde 2000: No. 643 3. A seal from Tiryns. After Yasur-Landau 2001: Pl. Ca 4. A stirrup jar from Syros. After Wedde 2000: No. 655 5. A krater from Aradippo, Cyprus. After Yasur-Landau 2001: Pl. Ce 6. A krater from Ashkelon, courtesy of Prof. L. E. Stager, Director of the Ashkelon Excavations 7. A figurine from Ashdod, Stratum XII. After Yasur-Landau 2001: Pl. XCIXa

306

assaf yasur-landau

Fig. 4. 1. A painted shard from Megiddo. After Schumacher 1908: Pl. 24 2. A zoomorphic vessel from Megiddo. After Loud 1948: Pl. 247: 7 3. A tripod vessel in the Metropolitan Museum. After Iacovou 1988: 72, Fig. 33 4. The lyre player on the “Orpheus Jug” 5. A kalathos from Kouklia-Xerolimani T.9:7. After Iacovou 1988: 72, Fig. 70 6. A plate from Kouklia-Skales. After Iacovou 1988: 27 7. A jar from Megiddo Stratum VIA. After Loud 1948: Pl. 84: 5