Abstract
The battle with Amalek (Exod. 17.8–16) is among the most enigmatic stories in the book of Exodus. Commentators have particularly struggled to understand the meaning of the iconic scene at its heart: Moses raising and lowering his hand(s) (holding God’s staff?). In this essay, I argue that the scene should be envisioned differently from how most commentators have imagined it. A literary analysis of Exod. 17.8–13 shows that Moses raises the staff horizontally using both hands, which are in turn supported by Aaron and Hur’s hands. This portrayal is further reinforced in light of evidence from Egyptian iconography. The proposed understanding of the scene entails a reinterpretation of the story: it is not about using the staff but about supporting it. This conclusion has unusual theological implications, which are further sharpened in light of the role our story plays within the broader wilderness narrative.
1. Introduction
The battle with Amalek (Exod. 17.8–16) is among the most enigmatic stories in the book of Exodus. This short story holds a few surprises for the reader: the battle appears out of the blue; likewise, two of the characters involved—Joshua and Hur—break into the story without introduction. In contrast, God, whom we would expect to intervene—refrains from doing so. Furthermore, God’s staff is mentioned at the beginning but later disappears. It is not clear how many hands Moses raises, and most of all, commentators have struggled to understand the meaning of the iconic scene at the heart of the story: how does raising Moses’ hands help defeat Amalek on the battlefield?
The present study will touch on some of these questions but will focus on the meaning of Moses’ action on the hill. Extensive literary and iconographic research in recent years has so far not led to a convincing answer to this central question. The suggestions offered are ultimately a variation or combination of older interpretations, all between one hundred and several thousand years old. Most of the suggested interpretations construe Moses’ act of raising his hands as one or more of the following: magic or “divine weapon,” religious or moral support for the warriors, and prayer. As we shall see, each of these explanations entails considerable difficulties.
Alongside the attempts to interpret the story on the literary level, a parallel trend in research approaches the problem from the visual perspective. Following Othmar Keel, several scholars have attempted to make sense of the iconic scene on the hill in light of iconographic evidence from the ancient Near East.
In the present article I would like to offer a novel interpretation that naturally emerges from both approaches, literary and visual alike. I will first outline the fundamental exegetical problem in the story, in light of which I will review the existing interpretations.
2. What Is Moses Doing on the Hill? A Survey of Existing Interpretations
The key to deciphering the story lies in understanding the iconic scene standing at its heart: Moses raising his hand(s). The fate of the military campaign depends on this action (17.11). Its centrality is further emphasized by the story’s literary structure: A. Amalek wages war on Israel. (8) B. War preparations—division of labor between Moses and Joshua: Moses uses a sacred object (staff); Joshua is called to communicate the war to the people. (9) C. Joshua goes out to fight Amalek. (10a) D. Aaron and Hur join Moses. (10b) E. Moses alone: the fate of the battle depends on the raising of Moses’ hand. (11) D1. Aaron and Hur assist Moses. (12) C1. Joshua defeats Amalek. (13) B1. War aftermath—division of labor between Moses and Joshua: Moses uses sacred objects (scroll, altar); Joshua is called to communicate the war aftermath (probably to future generations). (14–15) A1: YHWH wages war on Amalek. (16)
A ring structure emerges, with the central axis occupied by Moses’ action. 1 Frustratingly enough, though, our account is unclear as to the nature of this action: does Moses raise a staff, a hand, or two hands? Verse 9 mentions a staff and a single hand. Verse 11 exists in conflicting versions: in the Masoretic Text and in 4Qexod,c the wording is ידו (one hand), whereas the LXX, the Samaritan Pentateuch, the targums, the Peshitta, and the Vulgate all attest to ידיו (plural). 2 Finally, verse 12 uses the plural form three times.
At first glance, the question of what exactly Moses raises may seem insignificant. Childs, however, insisted that this question is critical for a proper understanding of the story, 3 and recently Charlie Trimm convincingly demonstrated how the various explanations of Moses’ action on the hill can be organized around the answers to precisely this question: What is the object being raised? 4
Later in this section I will follow in Trimm’s footsteps, and relying on his organizing principle, I will again briefly review the proposed interpretations of Moses’ action.
2.1 Hand versus Hands
In the Bible and in the ancient Near East, the raising of one hand and the raising of two hands constitute two different gestures conveying different meanings. The raising of two hands is an action often accompanying prayer. 5 In contrast, the raising of one hand indicates an offensive action, rebellion, or oath. This distinction between one hand and two hands is especially significant when one explores the use of the staff in the book of Exodus. In all cases in which the staff is used offensively or miraculously, only a single hand is involved (4.2, 4; 4.17, 20; 7.15; 7.19; 8.1; 8.13; 14.16; 17.5). 6
This essential difference between the gestures makes it inherently difficult to understand Moses’ action. As we shall see shortly, the staff (17.9) and the single hand (17.9, 11; according to the LXX et al., only 17.9) imply certain interpretations, whereas the two hands (17.12; according to the same witnesses, also 17.11) imply others. What, then, is the meaning of Moses’ action?
2.2 Prayer
The gesture of raising two hands fits the view of Moses’ action as prayer, in a way reminiscent of Samuel’s prayer in the war against the Philistines (1 Samuel 7). This approach had already been taken by Philo and the Aramaic targums, 7 which were followed by some Jewish and Christian exegetes 8 as well as by a few modern scholars. 9 However, it suffers from several weaknesses. The phrase “raising hands” with √רום does not occur in the HB with the meaning of prayer, 10 there is no mention of prayer or even words uttered by Moses on the hill, 11 and it is not clear how Moses’ prayer is related to the staff and the one raised hand mentioned earlier. Additionally, the immediate, almost mechanical, causality between Moses’ raising and lowering of his hands and the battlefield developments goes beyond the way prayers are described in the HB.
2.3 Religious or Moral Support
In ancient Jewish exegesis, Moses’ action was seen as a way of strengthening the religious faith of the warriors. 12 Later on, Rashbam and R. Joseph Kara offered a psychologizing version of this interpretation, explaining that the warriors drew encouragement and mental strength from the raised hands of Moses. 13 A few modern scholars have followed a similar line of thought. 14
That this interpretation has not been widely accepted is probably because it is even less reconcilable with the metaphysical nature of the story than the prayer interpretation is. The dependence of battlefield victory on Moses’ action is not a natural dependence but an absolute dependence operating mechanically. 15
2.4 Magic or Divine Weapon
The prevailing interpretation in modern research perceives Moses’ use of the staff on the hill as an act of magic. 16 This rendering, too, however, entails some difficulties: (1) Magic requires professional knowledge, whereas Moses is never presented, in our story or elsewhere, as a professional magician (in Egypt, Moses and Aaron act at YHWH’s command with precise guidance and not on their own initiative). (2) Not only does the description of Moses’ act lack any reference to spells, curses, or objects of magic or sorcery, but also, no terms in the semantic field of magic or divination are found in the entire account, the staff aside. (3) The portrayal of Moses as a magician conflicts with the Bible’s usual delegitimization of magic (Exod. 22.17; Lev. 19.26, 31; Deut. 18.10; Mic. 5.11; 2 Chr. 33.6). 17
Thus, some have preferred a softer definition of magic and have interpreted Moses’ action as a symbolic expression of God’s intervention in battle. Trimm employed the term “divine weapon,” 18 whereas Hakham wrote that “the raised staff of God is a kind of tool that draws down from above a supernatural power of victory, the power of the ‘outstretched arm,’ and influences it on the camp of Israel.” 19
However, these formulations also seem to miss the point, as one of the most conspicuous surprises in the story is that God does not intervene at all in the war narrative (17.8–13). Unlike the typical use of the staff in the exodus narrative, in our story, God does not command Moses to strike with the staff; in fact, God does not say or do anything until the battle is over.
Both the magic and “divine weapon” interpretations fit the description of Moses raising the staff with one hand, similar to how the staff is used in the exodus narrative, but they cannot be reconciled with the raising of two hands.
2.5 Multiple Meanings
Some scholars have suggested that Moses’ action has multiple meanings. 20 Recently, Trimm suggested that the transition from one hand to two signifies a switch from one action to another. Initially, the raising of one hand (holding the staff) functions as a divine weapon, like in the exodus narrative. Later on, a new action is introduced through the raising of two hands, which is to be understood as an act of prayer, in a manner that reflects future wars. 21
The difficulty inherent in the multiple-meaning explanations lies in the principle known as “Occam’s razor.” A single, uniform explanation of Moses’ action would be more convincing than the piling up of different explanations for its various stages. Moreover, one would be hard pressed to find literary justification for the alleged exchange of meanings, except for the transition from a single hand and a staff to two hands.
2.6 Moses’ Action in Light of Egyptian Iconography
Some scholars have approached the problem from the visual perspective. Keel linked the image of Moses on the hill to Egyptian images depicting someone bringing an offering to Pharaoh while raising both hands in front of him, probably symbolizing a hope that now Pharaoh will hear his pleas. Keel hypothesized that the author of our story had misunderstood the meaning of the images, mistakenly linking them to magical gestures. He further hypothesized that Moses here parallels the one who brings the offering and that Joshua parallels Pharaoh. 22 Keel’s thesis has been criticized for its far-reaching assumptions 23 and for the noticeable graphic difference between the allegedly related images and the present account. 24 However, the relevance of Egyptian iconography has not been abandoned, 25 and recently Jaeyoung Jeon was able to suggest a more plausible connection between Egyptian iconography and the image of Moses on the hill. Jeon’s proposal will be discussed in detail below.
3. The War Narrative (17.8–13)
3.1 The Multiplication of Hands as a Literary Motif
Let us take a closer look at the object raised by Moses throughout the war narrative (17.8–13). 26 Verse 9 implies that Moses intends to hold the staff of God with one hand. 27 This use of the staff makes the reader expect yet another story in the spirit of the exodus narrative, in which the hand holding the staff is nothing but a proxy of God, who carries out signs and wonders against the enemies of Israel.
However, we are in for a surprise. In v. 11, Moses raises his hand only, but the staff is not mentioned. It seems reasonable to assume that Moses holds the staff in his hand (see 8.1–2; 14.16, 21), and indeed some commentators have done so without sensing any difficulty. 28 However, the description of the event on the hill cannot be reconciled with the usual manner of using the staff: we have never heard that holding the staff poses a challenge, that its operation is uncertain, and that it is used without prior divine guidance. This strange course of action is puzzling and makes us wonder, is it merely incidental that the staff, which represents the power of God, is not mentioned—or perhaps it is not the staff that is at work here?
This disturbing possibility is further reinforced by 12aα. Not only does the staff continue to be absent, but also now the issue is Moses’ hands being so heavy that he must sit down. Beyond the physical burden weighing on Moses, which becomes progressively heavier, the very reference to hands in the plural distances us yet another step from the usual operation of the staff. In all other stories in the book of Exodus, the staff is used with a single hand, but here it turns out that Moses is using both hands. Commentators exhibit considerable creativity in explaining how he nevertheless uses the staff in the usual manner: according to one common explanation, Moses switches hands whenever the (single) holding hand gets tired; 29 Propp conjectured that despite Moses raising both hands, only one of them holds the staff. 30
However, the following part of v. 12 suggests that the scene must be understood differently, in a way that is even further removed from the usual manner of using the staff. Aaron and Hur support Moses’ hands from both sides. While the staff is gone, the number of hands is increasing. Moses’ one hand has become two, and now four additional implicit hands are joining. Moreover, this new information shows that we should envision the scene in an unusual way, differently from how most scholars imagine it. The fact that Moses is supported on both sides suggests that he does not move the staff from hand to hand, but both hands hold the staff simultaneously. If at any given moment the staff were held in one hand, only one person would be needed to support that hand. 31 Additionally, the phrase וַיְהִי יָדָיו אֱמוּנָה עַד בֹּא הַשָּׁמֶשׁ (12bβ) makes better sense if we assume that both hands together support the staff. Therefore, the symmetrical image in fig. 1 emerges from the text. 32
Moses holds the staff in both hands. Unknown source.
However, rarely have commentators and illustrators imagined the scene in this way. A search on Google Images shows that in most paintings of this scene, Moses holds the staff in one hand, as for example in the monumental painting of John Everett Millais (fig. 2).
Moses holds the staff in one hand. Source: John Everett Millais, “Victory O Lord!” (1871).
Given that the text directs us to understand the scene as in fig. 1, why have most exegetes and painters imagined it like Millais did? This is probably because raising the staff with both hands is a strange action, inconsistent with the usual way the staff is used in the exodus narrative. It also contradicts our intuition that the staff operates in a vectorial manner, stretched in a specific direction rather than simply lifted.
But what was true in the exodus narrative is not true in our story. Holding the staff in one hand reflects a certain use of it. Our story, though, is not about using the staff but about the continuously increasing effort needed to support it, a process that inevitably culminates in the employing of the available force in full—both hands together (plus the help of additional hands). Fig. 1 has an additional advantage: it fits in well with the motif running through the entire war narrative (17.8–13), the motif of the multiplication of hands. This motif may be briefly summarized in a five-stage scheme: the staff of God and a hand (9)—a hand (11)—two hands (12aα)—two hands + sitting on a stone (12aβ)—two hands + sitting on a stone + four additional implied hands (Moses being supported on both sides) (12bα). 33 This final configuration of the scene is what brings about the successful conclusion of the battle. The motif of the multiplication of hands constitutes a central artistic element in our story, designed to highlight one of its core themes, the handing over of responsibility to the human realm.
3.2 Reading the War Narrative in Light of the Multiplication of Hands Motif
In the exodus narrative, Moses and Aaron use the staff to bring about signs and wonders, always following explicit divine guidance (7.9–12; 7.15–20; 8.1–2; 8.12–13; 9.22–23; 10.12–13, 10.21–22; 14.16, 21). The mention of the staff in our story makes the reader expect God to act in a similar fashion, all the more so as the rare epithet “the staff of God” (17.9) is used (otherwise it occurs only in 4.20). Surprisingly enough, though, such an intervention does not materialize. The staff is gone, and with it, as it seems, the possibility to rely on it (17.11). 34 Moreover, as the story progresses, it becomes clear that the staff plays a role that is the exact opposite of its function in the exodus narrative. There, the use of the staff symbolizes the action of God: Moses stretches his staff toward heaven—God sends thunder and hail (9.23). In our story, too, the staff is God’s proxy, 35 but instead of acting, it is now being carried. Accordingly, the symbolism works in the opposite direction. Contrary to our expectation that it will again be possible to “lean” on God, in the course of the story it becomes clear that the opposite is true: the staff of God—representing his power—is now leaning on the leadership of Israel. This process evolves gradually: when one hand is no longer sufficient (11), two hands are required (12aα), but as the burden becomes still heavier three people—a total of six hands—are required to lift the staff (12bα). The expression that concludes the struggle on the hill, וַיְהִי יָדָיו אֱמוּנָה עַד בֹּא הַשָּׁמֶשׁ (12bβ), teaches that victory is achieved only because the staff is supported by the hands of Moses (which are in turn supported by Aaron and Hur). The meaning of אֱמוּנָה here is conscientiousness or steadiness; 36 hence, this description indicates a human achievement rather than a miracle. 37 Moreover, even when victory on the battlefield is finally achieved, it is described with the rare verb וַיַּחֲלֹשׁ (13) which probably indicates a close victory rather than a knockout. 38 The surprising image in fig. 1, in which Moses raises the staff with both hands, is thus the visual expression of a surprising story, one in which the staff of God leans on man and not the other way around.
Some have viewed God as the protagonist of the story. 39 In fact, the opposite is true. God does not act at any point in the war narrative. This is a story of human heroism for God’s sake. 40 With this in mind, we can understand why the commentators failed to discern how the staff operates. The staff’s operation is simply not what our story is about. At the successful conclusion of the scene on the hill, Moses and his associates are not assisted by God’s staff; on the contrary, they support it. The great achievement presented by the story is not the operation of the staff but Moses’ success in raising it: וַיְהִי יָדָיו אֱמוּנָה (17.12). It is plausible to assume that God helps Israel in battle whenever the staff is raised, but this hidden assistance is not the point of our story, and its mechanism is outside its scope. Furthermore, dealing with it would have obscured the real drama, which is about flesh and blood human beings supporting God’s staff. 41
The proposed interpretation carries with it unusual theological implications, which I will discuss further below. However, at this stage it is important to note that most common interpretations cannot be reconciled with the raising of one hand and a staff (17.9, 11) or with the raising of both hands (17.12). Compared to that, the proposed interpretation fits not only each of these descriptions per se but also their inner dynamics, that is, the motif of the multiplication of hands that ties the entire war narrative together. In doing so, this interpretation provides a coherent and uniform interpretation of the scene as a whole.
In the following paragraphs I would like to demonstrate how the suggested interpretation solves a number of additional perplexities.
4. Interpreting the Scene in Light of Egyptian Iconography
As mentioned, Keel suggested a link between the scene on the hill and Egyptian iconography as early as 1974. However, only recently has Jeon pointed out a compelling iconographic parallel.
42
Jeon broke the scene up into a collection of visual motifs—the raising of hands, a triad, sitting on a throne, and the staff of God—and reviewed their occurrences in Egyptian iconography. Taken separately, these motifs are not specific enough to attest to a clear connection to our scene. There is, however, one specific image that combines several motifs into a scene very close to ours. In an image from the Egyptian myth of creation, Shu, the god of the air, supports Nut, the goddess of heaven, with both of his raised hands. This image reappears throughout the entire history of ancient Egyptian art
43
and can already be identified in the Coffin Texts: Give me your arms, tie together a ladder for me. (ECT 76, 5–6) For I am weary at the uplifting of Shu, since I lifted my daughter Nut atop me. (Ibid, 10–11)
44
In the Greenfield papyrus (dated to the 10th century BCE), this image is illustrated with two ram-headed deities appearing on both sides of Shu, each one using both hands to support one of Shu’s hands (fig. 3).
Papyrus Greenfield sheet 87. Courtesy of the Trustees of the British Museum.
This composition is very reminiscent of our scene. The main protagonist strives to raise something with both hands while two additional characters support him on either side. 45 Moreover, the objects being raised bear a strong similarity: in the Greenfield papyrus, it is the goddess of the sky, and in our story, it is the staff of God—his proxy.
Although Jeon noted the resemblance between the Greenfield Papyrus and our scene, he did not use the papyrus as the primary key to interpret the scene. He rather reviewed additional motifs in Egyptian iconography and finally concluded that the image of Moses on the hill draws inspiration from a combination of different iconographic motifs. According to Jeon, this literary design is meant to characterize Moses as an Egyptian god or a Pharaoh, who has the power to protect the warriors through supernatural powers. 46 As for the meaning of the scene, Jeon noted possible contributions of each separate motif (e.g., the raised hands symbolizing prayer, magic, victory, or defense) but did not offer a coherent interpretation of the scene as a whole. 47
If we, nevertheless, wish to use the image of Shu carrying Nut as a key to deciphering the scene—assuming that the similarity between the two indicates a closeness of purpose—then the Egyptian image reinforces the proposed interpretation. First, it supports the way we envisioned the scene: the hands are not just raised but also are carrying the staff, 48 and Moses uses both hands for this purpose. Second, it supports the meaning we attributed to the scene: just as Shu and his assistants exert themselves to carry Nut, so in our story Moses and his assistants struggle to carry God’s staff and are not assisted by it. God, so to speak, leans on them. 49
5. A Hand upon the Throne of YH(WH) (16a)
Many interpretations, and even corrections, have been suggested for the obscure expression יָהּ כֵּס עַל יָד כִּי (16a). 50 For our purposes, the interesting question is to whom does this hand belong: is it the hand of YH(WH), of Moses, or of Amalek? In the book of Exodus and throughout the HB, the phrase “β על α יד” indicates a forceful action of α in relation to β. 51 Thus, from a linguistic point of view, we must conclude that YH(WH) is the one being attacked here and that the hand is that of Amalek. 52 Many have found it difficult to accept this unusual description, in which God supposedly is on the back foot, 53 but it perfectly fits the drama that takes place on the hill. God’s staff is on the defensive against an obscure power—the power of Amalek—who seeks to subdue it, and it is in need of support. 54
The surprising weakness of God’s staff is probably the reason 16a is phrased in such a brief and vague manner, as if the idea is hardly allowed to be expressed using the minimum number of letters possible. Phrasing it in five consecutive words of two letters each is just one step away from complete silence. 55
6. Eternal War (16b)
The question of eternal war is an exegetical challenge many have struggled with. Commentators usually emphasize the moral question: what is the justification for an eternal and total war with Amalek? 56 However, alongside this question, a more basic one may be asked: why does YHWH need to wage war at all “from generation to generation”? 57 For example, in the strife with Egypt, YHWH achieved his goals within a finite, short period. Once again, the impression is conveyed that Amalek has some extraordinary ability to oppose God, an ability that is not easily subdued—not only now but always! Paradoxically, it is precisely the declaration of eternal war that indicates that God is found in a weaker-than-usual position in our case. 58
7. The Meaning of the Story in the Context of the Book of Exodus
If my thesis is correct, the handing over of responsibility from God to leaders of flesh and blood is a major theme in our story. This insight is consistent with Trimm’s suggestion that our story marks the transition from the exodus narrative to Israel’s future wars. In his view, the one hand of Moses holding the staff connects our story to the exodus narrative, implying that God is still fighting for Israel, whereas the raising of both hands implies a less direct relationship, through prayer, which better corresponds to future wars in which God’s involvement is hidden (e.g., 1 Samuel 7). In this way, our story constitutes a Janus Parallelism. 59
However, to reach this conclusion, Trimm was forced to split Moses’ action into two quite different elements, that is, a divine weapon (one hand and a staff) and prayer (two hands). As I have shown above, it should be understood as one uniform action. With increasing effort, both physical and spiritual as it seems, the three men on the hill endeavor to raise the staff that metonymically symbolizes the power of God. Through this heroic act, they help God help Israel. The transition from the atmosphere of the plagues to a war in which God’s involvement is hidden and even depends on Israel is not conveyed by two different actions. Rather, it is shaped through a literary device, the multiplication of hands motif. As the war narrative progresses, the reader gradually realizes that this time, it is not the staff that is at work but rather Moses and his associates.
To fully understand the theological implications of the story, one must read it in its context as part of the Exodus wilderness narrative (13.17–17.16). Several commentators have noted that the opening and concluding stories of this literary unit form an inclusio, both being war stories (Egypt at the Red Sea–Amalek at Rephidim). 60 Comparing these two wars illuminates our story in an additional way. In the war at the Red Sea, YHWH alone saves Israel (14.24–25) but expresses his frustration over Moses crying out to him instead of acting himself (14.15). A mirror image of this emerges from the battle with Amalek, in which Israel acts on its own, without turning to YHWH at all. 61 Moreover, not only does the staff of God not save Israel, but on the contrary, Israel “saves” the staff through considerable human effort. 62 Thus, our story constitutes a dramatic turning point in the relationship between YHWH and Israel. From now on, Israel will no longer be able to assume that YHWH will fight for it through signs and wonders, in the sense of “YHWH will fight for you; you need only to be still” (14.14 NIV). Now, the opposite is true: you shall fight for YHWH, and he will be still. Israel comprises YHWH’s earthly representatives; hence, he expects them to fight for him. 63 This interdependence materializes in the complex mechanism that leads to victory: the warriors of Israel depend on YHWH’s help, but YHWH’s help itself is dependent on Israel’s ability to support him steadily, an ability that is put to the test in the raising of the staff on the hill. This test reaches its successful conclusion only following the investment of considerable efforts, ultimately requiring the joint action of six hands of Israel’s leaders; only then, וַיְהִי יָדָיו אֱמוּנָה עַד בֹּא הַשָּׁמֶשׁ (17.12). This unique expression, summing up the endeavor on the hill, concisely captures the novel theological message of the entire story. The message is conveyed by using the word אֱמוּנָה —which usually expresses a mental attitude of trust and confidence—in the unusual sense of physical support. This rare use is made possible by the wide semantic range of √אמן, which may carry both physical and abstract meanings, ranging between physical support, trust, and belief. 64 By exploiting this multiplicity of meanings, the staff of God being physically supported by the hands of Israel’s leaders expresses the idea that from now on God can trust in Israel. This trust will prove critical in Israel’s future challenges. 65
The wilderness narrative has been seen as concluding with a story that should be viewed as a rite of passage. Naturally, then, its commemoration is crucial, and so it includes three different commemorative acts: writing in a document, oral transmission, and the erection of an altar (17.14–15). These resonate until the end of all generations (17.16).
8. Conclusion
For many years now, commentators have been striving to solve the riddle of Exod. 17.8–16. The explanations proposed so far for Moses’ enigmatic action on the hill are fraught with considerable difficulties. In this essay, I suggest that the key to solving the mystery lies in the surprising role of the staff of God in our story, which is the exact opposite of its function in the exodus narrative. Counter-intuitively, here, the staff does not operate but is rather supported. This implies that God is found in a relatively weak position, which explains a couple of perplexities in our story. Moreover, this interpretation naturally arises from the literary motif I call “the multiplication of hands.” This motif is formed by the brief flicker of God’s staff (17.9) followed by a long suspension (17.10–12), vis-à-vis the increasing number of human hands in the same pericope. The early mention of the staff of God leads us to think it will easily win the battle. However, the story unfolds in a completely different direction. It turns out that this time, raising the staff requires a considerable human effort, culminating in the strenuous action of six hands: both of Moses’ hands, which are in turn supported by the hands of Aaron and Hur.
The resulting picture is different from how most commentators and painters have envisioned the scene on the hill. However, it perfectly fits the closest parallel in Egyptian iconography, which is the image of Shu supporting Nut, particularly the way it is illustrated in the Greenfield papyrus. Thus, our story offers a good example of how iconographic data can be used along with careful literary analysis to unravel old mysteries.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
This article is part of a research work carried out at Bar-Ilan University for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. I am indebted to Jonathan Grossman, Oren Gelblum, and Raanan Eichler along with the journal’s anonymous reviewers for their helpful notes. All errors remain mine alone.
1.
A similar structure was proposed by Robinson 1985: 15 and by Schart 1990: 187. However, not everyone was convinced (see 
: 200–201). I believe that after the suggested amendments, the structure obtained is compelling (my main innovation lies in the formulation of components B and B1). Note that beyond the thematic connection between each of the symmetric components, the set of characters is also identical within each ring but varies from one ring to another. The only exception is YHWH, who enters the picture in B1, and in the last component, A1, replaces Israel. It turns out that whoever fights Israel, will be fought by YHWH.
This structure confirms the unity of the story, which has been affirmed by some scholars, most notably Van Seters 1994: 203, 207, and Noort 2006: 166, 169–170. In particular, their argument that 17.14 cannot be seen as a late expansion is reinforced by the unmistakable correspondence between B and B1 (cf. Noth 1962: 143; Childs 1974: 313; Coats 1999: 140–142; : 290–295).
2.
There is no consensus about the version to be preferred here. Childs (1974: 311) preferred the MT and believed ידיו to be a late correction. However, Propp (1999: 614) and : 207) favored the LXX version. An interesting by-product of the present study will be literary evidence supporting the MT (see n. 33 below).
5.
The phrases נשא/פרש + יד/כף are common in the HB within the context of prayer (Exod. 9.29; Ps. 28.2; 63.5; 134.2; 143.6; Lam. 2.19; 2 Chr. 6.12). The act of raising one’s hands expresses prayer also elsewhere in the ancient Near East, with one common example being the Mesopotamian “shuilla” prayers, derived from the Sumerian rubric šu.íl.lá meaning “lifted hand(s)” (Lenzi A, Frechette C and Zernecke AE 2011: 25). Similarly, Trimm (2019: 207–209) mentioned the Akkadian phrase našu qātu, which is sometimes explained as “prayer in raising hands” (CAD 11:106–107) as well as Keret raising his hands (nša ydh) toward El before going out to battle (KTU 1.14 IV 4). In Egypt, the raising of two hands is connected to prayer or adoration, and the hieroglyph depicting two raised hands means “to praise, to extol” (Van Seters 1994: 205; Jeon 2019: 95). See further on this gesture: Keel 1974: 103–107; Keel 1978: 308–323; : 22–89.
6.
Trimm 2019: 202, 207. : 95) pointed out that in Egyptian iconography there is also a difference between raising or stretching two hands toward a king, indicating prayer or adoration, and stretching one hand, indicating blessing, support, or protection.
7.
Philo, De vita Mosis I, 216 (indeed, Philo eventually construed Moses’ action in a different, allegorical way, as a struggle between heaven and earth). The Aramaic translations that adhere to the prayer interpretation also reflect, as expected, the plural reading ידיו in v. 11.
9.
Cassuto 1997: 205; Holzinger 1990: 60; Schmitt 1990; : 205–206.
12.
Mishnah, Rosh Hashanah 3.8; Mekhilta d’Rabbi Yishmael, Tractate Amalek 1.
13.
Rashbam on 17.11; R. Joseph Kara, ibid.
14.
Sarna 1986: 122; : 192.
16.
Gressmann 1913: 158; Noth 1962: 142; Childs 1974: 315; Hyatt 1980: 184; Scharbert 1989: 74; Niditch 1993: 144; Houtman 1993, 2:383; Jeffers 1996: 186–187; Dolanski 2008: 61; Dozeman 2009: 394–395; Schmitt 2011: 85–86; Albertz 2012: 292–293. : 141) used the term “quasi-magic.”
17.
Sarna 1986: 122; Van Seters 1994: 206; : 203–205.
19.
Hakham 1991, 1:326; cf. : 84–87.
20.
For example, according to Hamiel (1989), Moses ascends the hill with the staff both to encourage the warriors and to pray for them. : 618, 621) followed a similar line of thought, while incorporating even more explanations in his complex exegesis, including magic and representation of God.
23.
Van Seters 1994: 204; Trimm 2019: 206; : 142.
24.
These are in fact very different images. For example, in Egypt the figure bringing the offering is marginal in relation to Pharaoh’s figure. In our story, the opposite is true, as Moses occupies a central place. Moreover, in Egypt the person bringing the offering stretches out his hand or hands forward, whereas in our story the movement is upward (: 94–95).
25.
It is worth noting, for example, Valentin’s and Zenger’s discussions of Egyptian parallels (Valentin 1978: 183–187; Zenger 1982: 89–107). For a critical discussion of these proposals, see : 142.
26.
The analysis will rely on the MT version. Below I will clarify how the analysis changes when relying on the LXX and its equivalents, which read “his hands” in 17.11.
27.
Noth’s hypothesis that God’s staff in v. 9 is a secondary expansion is not widely accepted (Noth 1962: 142; cf. Houtman 1993, 2:375; Coats 1999: 141; : 618). The present article offers three more arguments against it (see n. 1, n. 37 and n. 48).
28.
Gressmann 1913: 156; Houtman 1993, 2:375; : 202.
29.
Luzzatto on 17.12 (on behalf of one of his disciples), along with many others, such as Ehrlich 1908: 329; Houtman 1993, 2:375; : 167.
32.
33.
Houtman (1993, 2:375) had already commented on the gradual transition from one hand, to two hands, to receiving support from both sides. : 166–167) added to this the disappearance of the staff. My emphasis here is that this is a literary motif playing a major role in the artistic design of the narrative, light of which the meaning of the entire story should be understood. This motif is preserved in the LXX, albeit less clearly as the plural form ידיו occurs already in v. 11. It therefore appears that ידיו in v. 11 is an attempt to harmonize with v. 12 without being aware of the motif. This is literary evidence in support of the MT.
34.
The breaking of this expectation is the central axis of the entire story. Accordingly, it is located at the heart of its ring structure.
35.
Another story in which the staff serves as a proxy is Num. 17.16–26, where the budding of Aaron’s staff symbolizes his election.
36.
See extended discussion at Jepsen, “אָמַן ʾāman,” TDOT 1:317. Most modern commentators have translated similarly, for example, Durham 1987: 236; Houtman 1993, 2:381; : 206.
37.
Moreover, the word אמונה seems to imply that not only are the hands raised, but also they support something (—the staff). A comprehensive study of all the occurrences of אמונה in the Bible is beyond the scope of the present work, but the impression is that when it comes to אמונה, there must also be something or someone who can להאמין—lean or trust—on the thing worthy of אמונה. This characteristic is evident in other words derived from √אמן, e.g., אֹמְנוֹת (pillars; 2 Kgs 18.16) and אֹמֵן / אֹמֶנֶת(nurse; Num. 11.12; 2 Sam. 4.4; Ruth 4.16). It follows that although the staff is mentioned only once in the syuzhet (v. 9), its existence is still implied in v. 12; namely, it is present throughout the fabula of the war narrative. This strengthens our understanding that the suspension of God’s staff constitutes a deliberate literary device (contra : 142). Further support for this will be provided in n. 48.
38.
A number of translations have been proposed for וַיַּחֲלֹשׁ, including “overcame” (NIV), “weakeneth” (YLT), “discomfited” (KJV), and “defeat” (NKJV). There is another story, Exodus 32, in which Moses and Joshua act together and which also contains √גבר and √חלש. There, גְּבוּרָה (victory) is the opposite of חֲלוּשָׁה (loss). Thus, the best literal translation of וַיַּחֲלֹשׁ is “inflicted loss,” or simply “overcame.” However, √נכה in the Hiph’il stem, which is common in the exodus narrative and in the book of Joshua, expresses a more decisive victory and should be translated as “smite” or “strike.”
39.
40.
Hence, Coats (1999: 142) was right in classifying our story as a hero legend and not as a divine salvation story. And perhaps : 163) was even more right when claiming that our story is a narrative sui generis.
41.
A similar phenomenon occurs in Genesis 4. The question of YHWH’s disregard for Cain’s offering has attracted much scholarly attention. However, that story deliberately avoids this question, as it would have shifted the focus away from its primary theme, which is human response to divine rejection—regardless of the reason for this rejection.
42.
Shortly afterward, Peterson (2021) and both suggested the same Egyptian image.
43.
: 144) quoted the Egyptologist Geraldine Pinch, claiming that this is “one of the most commonly depicted mythical scenes in Egyptian art.” Due to the omnipresence of this image throughout Egyptian history, the proposed link has hardly any implications for the ongoing controversy over the question of dating (for an up-to-date review, see Jeon 2019: 112–113). For example, both Jeon and Peterson have linked the Egyptian image of Shu lifting Nut with our story, but while Jeon (2019: 114) dated it to the Persian period, Peterson (2021: 151–153) maintained that it is old material.
45.
Jeon 2019: 104–107. : 146–150) also pointed out similarities between the characters of Moses and Shu. In my opinion, these parallels are less convincing than the visual resemblance of the scenes.
47.
Jeon 2019: 111, 115. Peterson (2021: 143, 153) claimed that the scene is designed to present Moses in light of Shu’s character, but he, too, offered no concrete interpretation of Moses’ act. Lastly and similarly, argued that our story is rooted in Heliopolitan cosmogony but did not provide an intrinsic interpretation of Moses’ action as it is in our account.
48.
49.
There are Egyptian illustrations of Shu lifting Nut in which the supporting characters do not appear. However, the critical motifs for our purpose are also present in those illustrations: the lifting with two hands and the fact that the upper figure does not help the lower one but is a burden on it. Nut’s status as the daughter of Shu reinforces the last point.
50.
As early as the 17th century, Johannes Clericus suggested emending כס to נס, thus connecting our verse to the preceding one. This correction has been accepted by some (e.g., Childs 1974: 311–312), but most scholars do not seem to adopt it, mainly because it has no support in the Hebrew textual witnesses or in the ancient translations, all of which apparently attest to כס (Fabry, “נס nēs,” TDOT 9:441; Durham 1987: 237; , 2:390). The common understanding is that כס is a variant of כסא, “throne.”
51.
For example, in Exod. 7.5, 17, and subsequently throughout the entire narrative of the plagues; in the placing of the hands on the sacrifice, e.g., Exod. 29.15, 19; also see Judg. 3.10; 6.2; 1 Sam. 5.7; Isa. 5.25; Jer. 6.12; 15.6; 51.25; Ezek. 44.12; Mic. 5.8; Zech. 2.13. Admittedly, unlike our case, in most of these cases, the preposition is preceded by a verb.
52.
As, indeed, understood by Chizkuni on 17.16; Reimarus 1972: 361–362; Durham 1987: 237; : 105.
54.
The story does not identify the force against which Moses and his associates struggle on the hill. : 206) suggested that the intense preoccupation with the efforts to raise the staff indicates an effort that goes beyond the physical realm. It is indeed probable, in my opinion, that the three men are struggling against some spiritual force representing Amalek, in a manner reminiscent of Jacob’s struggle with the “man” in Gen. 32.25–33. In any case, Amalek is certainly the signified behind the mysterious hand lifted against the throne of God in this concluding verse.
55.
This hypothesis is a generalization of the Sages’ explanation of the unusual forms כס (instead of כסא) and יה (instead of YHWH): “As long as Amalek’s offspring continue to exist, neither his name nor his throne will be perfect” (Tanhuma Devarim, Ki Tetze 11).
56.
Among the many answers given to this question: All the nations feared YHWH in the wake of the exodus (15.14–15), but Amalek did not fear and even came from afar “to challenge God” (Nachmanides on 17.16). No casus belli for the attack is mentioned (R. Isaac Abarbanel on 17.8). Amalek dwelled on Israel’s southern border and constituted a constant threat (Cassuto 1997: 206); it has to do with the eternal enmity of Esau (Meyers 2005: 135). Amalek attacked the weak among Israel in a cruel way that deviates from the ethical norms of war (Childs 1974: 313, relying on Deut. 25.18). In the context of the latter, it is worth mentioning Medan’s remark that in 1 Sam. 30, the Amalekites also attacked the weak ones. They took advantage of the fact that David and his men were on their way northward by attacking the city of Ziklag which was thus inhabited solely by women and children (Medan 2001: 342). For further proposals, see : 158–160.
58.
Interestingly, the theme of eternal war against Amalek does indeed materialize throughout the Bible. Time after time, one gets the impression that finally Amalek has been completely vanquished, and time and time again, it turns out that the campaign is not over yet (1 Sam. 15; 1 Sam. 30; 1 Chron. 4.42–43; Esther).
59.
Trimm 2019: 209–213. : 395–397) has already argued that the battle with Amalek anticipates Joshua’s wars and is of the same literary type. This may explain not only Joshua’s central role in our story but also his sudden appearance. In this sense, the entire story is a kind of flicker of the future, and this atmosphere is shaped through the flicker of future characters.
60.
Coats 1999: 142; Albertz 2014: 154. : 53–55), and with slight changes Jonathan Grossman (2019, personal communication), have further argued that the story cycle is structured symmetrically: the opening and concluding stories are war stories. In the middle ring we find thirst stories (15.22–27; 17.1–7), and the central axis (ch. 16) is a story about hunger.
61.
: 192) has elaborated usefully on this reversal. The reversal is nicely exemplified by the word יד, serving as a leitwort in both stories and appearing seven times in each. Remarkably, while the יד in ch. 14 signifies the mighty hand of God, all the occurrences of יד in our story stand for human hands acting solely on human initiative (Jonathan Grossman, 2022, personal communication).
62.
A similar reversal occurs in the inner rings of the wilderness narrative, in the murmuring stories: while in the first stories about thirst and hunger YHWH tests (√נסה Pi’el) Israel (15.25; 16.4), in the final thirst story, it is Israel who tests (√נסה Pi’el) YHWH (17.2, 7).
The double reversal in both the outer and the inner rings of the wilderness narrative reinforces its proposed symmetrical structure. It also creates a profound thematic connection between the stories that conclude the wilderness narrative (17.1–7; 17.8–16), both of which take place at Rephidim.
63.
One may wonder whether God’s reliance on the leadership of Israel is perceived as disrespect. In my view, the answer lies in the pyramidal picture offered in v. 12. In the stories in Exodus 17–18, the leadership of Israel gradually takes on a hierarchical structure (17.1–7: Moses and the elders of Israel; 17: 8–16: Moses, Aaron, and Hur; 18: Moses and the jurisdictional hierarchy beneath him). It seems to me that the pyramidal structure, here and in the following story, actually enhances the dignity of the one standing at its top—Moses. The pyramid portrays Moses as a leader of leaders, a leader capable of delegating authority and trusting in the leaders beneath him (see also Num. 11.29). By analogy, just as Moses’ aides do not pose a threat to his honor, so the fact that God’s staff is supported by a human pyramid should not be perceived as disrespect.
64.
See Jepsen, “אָמַן ʾāman,” TDOT 1: 292–323.
65.
For example, in Joshua 7, the unfaithfulness of Israel—and even of one Israelite alone—might bring disgrace upon YHWH’s great name (Josh 7.9). Likewise, in 1 Samuel 4, undeserving leadership brings about the taking of the ark of God into captivity.