Moral and ethical values in structural patterns of coercive acts in Hebrew Bible narrative 1

Abstract

There are many biblical episodes in which people are compelled by an explicit or implicit threat of force, which is one definition of coercion, yet the issue of coercion has not yet been systematically explored for Hebrew Bible narrative. Examining the phenomenon of coercion across biblical narrative, this study asks how coercion is viewed and valued in the Hebrew Bible, what determines whether coercion is punished or rewarded, and what the theological significance is of this judgment.

Keywords

Coercion resistance compliance structural syntagmatic actantial analysis syntagmatic analysis rhetoric narrative genre theological values narrative theology

Introduction

The issue of coercion has not yet been systematically explored for Hebrew Bible narrative. The task of defining and studying coercion as a category has only even been named in the humanities since the late 1960s.² In literature, the few studies of coercion are primarily concerned with overt themes of force or rape. In psychological and forensic studies, coercion appears to focus on appropriate bounds of overt authority, as in relationships between doctor and patient or between law enforcer and accused. Many of the studies in philosophy and literature depend on the work of Michel Foucault in the areas of incarceration, mental illness, and sexuality.³ A fuller discussion of Foucault’s approach and those who follow it is beyond the scope of this work. The more subtle and implicit kinds of coercion that arise within biblical narrative have yet to be addressed by these fields of study.

For this initial study I focus instead upon rhetorical acts of coercion, where coercion operates as a verbal rather than a physical act, and where coercive force is, for the most part, an implicit or explicit threat rather than a realized action. In forthcoming studies currently in preparation I deal with broader definitions of coercive situations, analyzing narratives of coercion that go beyond the threat of violence to feature actual violence, such as military action, arson, rape, and the like. I have found that the theological pattern that I outline in the present study also holds for the analyses of these coercive narratives that feature violence.

There are many biblical episodes in which people are compelled by an explicit or implicit threat of force, which is the definition of coercion I rely upon in this article. Looking at the phenomenon of coercion across Hebrew Bible narrative, this study asks how coercion is viewed and valued, what determines whether coercion is punished or rewarded, and what the theological significance is of this judgment. Governing this exploration is the understanding that the Hebrew Bible is a work of literary theology, in which theological ideas and cultural values are embedded in narrative and expressed rhetorically. Any discussion of patterns of biblical coercion must thus take into account categories of genre, symbolic space, and other literary conventions of biblical narrative.

General definition

For this initial study, in which I address verbal or rhetorical coercion, I build upon the work of Parke Burgess, a scholar of rhetoric, who has made a strong case for insisting on the symbolic space between the implied threat of a coercive act and the deployment of actual force.⁴

To coerce is to attempt to dominate or control by exploiting fear or anxiety, by intimidation, or by threat of force. A major task for examining coercion within the biblical examples is thus to distinguish the threat of force from actual force and to understand how the victim’s experience of the threat of force becomes, for the victim, an experience of actual force. Building upon Burgess,⁵ my goal is to identify the symbolic power of the implicit or explicit threat of force in each biblical example, and to identify any actual or implicit latitude for action by the victim that opposes the coercer. In order to explicate the pattern identified in the present study, however, I will confine my analysis here to narratives that fall within Burgess’s narrow definition of coercion as an act of discourse.

Essential to this initial discussion is a definition of coercion that, first, classifies coercive acts as rhetorical acts within the realm of rhetorical discourse. Distinguishing clearly between implied force and actual force, Burgess defines acts of coercion as those in which the perpetrator rejects the direct use of force upon the victim.⁶ Instead, Burgess contends that the perpetrator of coercion hopes that the victim will be ‘persuaded by a threat of force in the absence of actual force’.⁷ He insists that the response of the victim to the demand of the perpetrator is intrinsic to any coercive act.⁸ The minimum definition of coercion must therefore include both an explicit or implicit act of pressure or intimidation by a perpetrator and the response to that action by a victim.

Burgess identifies the ‘coercive moment’ with an illustration: A robber confronts you at gunpoint, demanding, ‘Your money or your life!’⁹ You hand over the money. Were you persuaded, coerced, or forced? Burgess claims that you are not forced, since this coercive transaction was primarily rhetorical and only ‘insignificantly a physical one’.¹⁰ He argues that by addressing the victim, instead of shooting or bodily subduing him, the assailant is engaging in a consciously rhetorical act; the assailant chooses to gain the money through an act of communication rather than through an act of force.¹¹

In addition, Burgess insists upon the victim’s absolute ability to choose whether to resist the coercive pressure of the assailant. According to Burgess, the victim is moved not by force but by the conceived situation. In the small but essential space between the act of coercion and the response, Burgess asserts, the victim makes an autonomous decision whether or not to relinquish the money.¹²

In his examination of coercion Burgess relies upon real-life examples. My object of study, on the other hand, is not real life, but rather the literary narratives in the Hebrew Bible, a work of theological narrative exhibiting literary tropes and patterns that convey theological principles and moral and ethical precepts by means of narrative and rhetoric.

Rhetoric and violence

The distinction between rhetoric and violence may be clarified by considering a modern example that, like the Hebrew Bible, reflects the rules of its own genre rather than what might happen ‘in real life’. In the mid-twentieth century, the comedian Jack Benny created a persona notable for stinginess, as a running gag. In one famous bit, a gunman confronts Benny and demands his money or his life. After a long pause, impatient, the perpetrator insists upon Benny’s answer. ‘I’m thinking it over’, Benny replies. This moment, while comic, highlights the unmistakable nature of the coercive gesture as an act of rhetoric rather than as one of violence.¹³ At the same time, it emphasizes Burgess’s point that the victim is able to choose his own response even in the face of a perpetrator who is determined to create the perception that the victim cannot choose.

This example, like the biblical episodes discussed in this paper, is a construct following the rules and expectations of a genre of fiction. Here the genre is the comic sketch, which is no more a true reflection of ‘real life’ than is the genre of literary theology in biblical narratives.¹⁴ Instead, the sketch expands and emphasizes both the rhetorical nature of the relationship between perpetrator and victim as well as the space between demand and response.

Benny’s character insists on the very autonomy posited by Burgess, namely, to consider his options and to make a decision. It is this element, operating in a rhetorical realm and constructed to fit a specific genre, that parallels the transactions of coercer and coerced, perpetrator and victim, in the biblical examples discussed below. This example, like Burgess’s, illustrates an act of coercion as rhetorical, but it also facilitates an understanding of how coercion operates within the conventions of genre, as opposed to the ‘real life’ posited by Burgess. The two realms—comedy and biblical narrative—are constructs that arise from, and fit within, expected categories of genre and form.

Burgess asserts that all social situations depend upon communication and cooperation; in every act of coercion, the perpetrator tries to induce in the victim the experience of having no choice.¹⁵ Burgess goes on to insist, however, that in every case the victim does indeed have a choice, to accede or to resist. This same assumption operates throughout the Hebrew Bible. In episodes of coercion that involve the threat of violence, as well as in cases which are accompanied by actual violence, the Hebrew Bible narrative overwhelmingly insists, explicitly or by implication, that the victim has a choice, however unpalatable, whether to accede to, or to resist, the coercion of the perpetrator.

Coercion in the Hebrew Bible

In the Hebrew Bible, coercion per se is neither advocated nor condemned by either the narrator or God; both are neutral about any moral and ethical judgment of coercive behavior. In biblical narrative, what is valorized is not the coercive act itself, but the response of the victim to the act of coercion; acceding to coercion results in condemnation for the victim, expressed explicitly in the text or implicitly by the narrative context. Resistance to coercion results in negative consequences for the perpetrator, and, often, praise, reward, or vindication for the victim. When the victim accedes to coercion, the perpetrator suffers no negative consequence. When the victim resists coercion, on the other hand, the outcome is condemnation of the perpetrator and praise for the victim. Those moments when coercion is resisted, even defied, are when social and religious conventions are being challenged, questioned, and even overturned, and they can reveal the depth, breadth, and power of the many silent agreements out of which the social fabric depicted in biblical narrative is woven.

My premise throughout this analysis is that the victim who accedes must be somehow complicit in the coercer’s power, or else the coercer does not have the power he or she claims. The Hebrew Bible appears to demand of the victim that he or she withdraw this complicity from the coercer and act independently, at any cost. But how does the biblical text encode these values? How are these meanings conveyed and interpreted? In this paper, my goal is to analyze the generative trajectories of selected biblical narratives in order to identify the symbolic power of the implicit or explicit threat of force and to identify any latitude for action by the victim contrary to that intended by the coercer.

I have identified in Hebrew Bible narrative a corpus of more than one hundred examples of coercive situations. For the purposes of this article, I am concerned only with those which fall under the definition of coercion as an act of rhetoric. In the examples under consideration here, therefore, coercion may involve the threat of violence, but not acts of actual violence.

Theory and method

I have chosen two related analytical models to apply to narrative episodes of biblical coercion in order to identify the roles of perpetrator and victim, whether they were individuals or member of large or small groups, the power relationships at play among them, and the cultural values underlying these episodes. The first model, syntagmatic structural analysis, extrapolates a sequential pattern from a corpus of narratives that applies to the corpus or to a subset of that corpus. The pattern thus identified defines a specific genre. This analysis allows me to propose a pattern by which to identify unambiguous coercive episodes as well as variations that might be less apparent at first glance.¹⁶ The second model, actantial analysis, does not depend upon sequence. Instead, it allows me to identify, in whatever order they occur, the roles and functions of the participants in these episodes, in terms of their relationship to one another, the interplay of power relationships, and the cultural norms, expectations, and challenges represented by these dynamics.¹⁷ It is important to note that actantial analysis relies on the behavior of an actor as it is recounted in the narrative, rather than upon the actor’s motivation, which, in biblical narrative especially, is often left to speculation. Applied jointly to the same narrative texts, syntagmatic analysis and actantial analysis together can define a specific genre, by identifying the patterns within which the action proceeds within that genre, as well as the types of actors that can be expected to arise within it.

The structural pattern of biblical coercion

A syntagmatic structural analysis of the corpus of coercive situations in the Hebrew Bible results in a model of the elements these coercive texts have in common and where they vary, including the sequence of elements and outcomes that are common to biblical episodes of coercion. The pattern for each coercive situation is the following: first, an act of coercion that is rhetorical in nature, aimed at achieving an objective sought by the perpetrator and formulated so as to limit the perception of alternative choices available to the victim; second, the response of the victim to pressure, characterized as the victim’s accession or resistance to the act of coercion. Finally, each coercive situation is followed by judgment upon either or both participants in the form of one or more of the following: reward or punishment, praise or condemnation, blessing or curse, whether attributed to God, recounted by the narrator, or apparent from the context of the narrative itself. In variations of the pattern this judgment may be delayed or displaced beyond the immediate occasion of coercion, but it is nevertheless predicated upon the response of the victim to the perpetrator’s coercive act.

An actantial analysis of these episodes, which examines the relationships between and among characters, reveals parallels and divergences in actantial (character) roles in such areas as desire, ability, knowledge, and obligation. Differences in gender, power relationships, and choices to resist or not also emerge from this analysis, which focuses attention upon such categories as who is speaking or who never speaks, the nature and degree of authority and responsibility implicit in the language of each speaker, and the linguistic modes employed by each speaker. These linguistic modes can be affirmative or mystifying, imperative or submissive, command or request, deceptive or straightforward, and legitimated or not legitimated by the judgment of the text.

The actantial roles identified in each coercive episode are the following. First is the perpetrator of coercion, who appears to wield all the power in the situation. Second is the victim of coercion, who appears to have no power, nor any available alternatives beside acceding to the perpetrator. The role of perpetrator or victim may be filled by an individual or by a group, small or large, which may operate autonomously or may represent the interests of a particular faction, of a nation, state, or other authoritative entity. Finally, the role of evaluator may be filled directly by God, by the narrator, or by some other character in the episode. An evaluation may be expressed indirectly, by the narrative context. This evaluator or evaluation renders a judgment , which may be praise or condemnation, reward or punishment, blessing or curse, and which falls upon the victim, perpetrator, or both.

Syntagmatic analysis identifies the actions making up the pattern, and actantial analysis identifies the characters operating within the pattern. In the pattern I am proposing, actions and actors come together in the final element, when the judgment is rendered by the evaluator.

Responses to coercive acts in biblical narrative

Compliance

An example of an act of coercion in which the victim is complicit with the perpetrator arises in Genesis 25.29–34, where Jacob secures Esau’s birthright. Esau has been unsuccessfully hunting game, and returns home famished, to find Jacob cooking a stew (Gen. 25.29–30). Esau asks for some, but Jacob refuses until Esau agrees to sell Jacob his birthright. Jacob does not share the pottage, however, solely upon Esau’s word; he insists on a formal oath. Esau concedes, saying that, as he is at the point of death, his birthright is of no use to him. He swears just as Jacob insists and eats the lentil stew, all related in a series of verbs that emphasize his haste. Esau acts with the haste of someone in extremis.

The successful act of coercion by Jacob appears to depend upon Esau’s inherent impulsiveness—he might, after all, have found something else to eat within the household—and, perhaps also on Esau’s diminished ability, after days without food, to make rational judgments or to consider the long-term consequences of his actions. Jacob has succeeded in placing Esau in a position where he feels he has no choice but to accede to the coercive demand of the perpetrator, whether or not this is objectively the case.¹⁸ From Esau’s point of view, without the stew he will die; the birthright thus has no value. For Jacob, on the other hand, the birthright is of lasting value, and the stew of only passing utility.

An actantial analysis reveals that here Jacob is the perpetrator of the coercive act (Gen. 25.31); Esau is the victim , who complies with Jacob’s demand (Gen. 25.32). When Jacob insists on a formal oath, and Esau swears, the perpetrator reiterates the coercive act, and the victim reinforces his compliance with it (Gen. 25.33). The narrator is the evaluator , rendering a negative judgment upon Esau for spurning his birthright (Gen. 25.34). The victim accedes to the demand of the coercer, and the evaluator condemns the victim, pronouncing no judgment on the nature of the coercive actions (Gen. 25.34b).

As the perpetrator of coercion, Jacob demands of Esau a financial benefit far in the future; his victim, Esau, whose judgment may be affected, sees a way to feed his starving body. The actants in this episode appear not to be operating within the same universes of discourse. For Jacob, the coercive act will double his share of the inheritance he is due from his father. For Esau, compliance is a small price to pay for food when he is famished. In valuing the object of coercion differently, the two actants also evaluate differently the risks of compliance with the coercive act.¹⁹

This episode is a paradigmatic example of a victim acceding to a perpetrator’s act of coercion. At the same time, it raises the question of what differentiates coercive situations from transactional ones. A fundamental difference between transactional episodes and coercive ones involves the question of perceived choice within the narrative context.²⁰ As Burgess insists, the rhetorical nature of coercion demands that the victim actively participate in the coercive discourse by choosing to accede or to resist the demand of the perpetrator. In a transactional interaction, by contrast, the participants are on an equal footing, each with the freedom to engage or disengage at will. In coercive situations, the perpetrator tries, overtly or implicitly, to give the victim a sense the only choice is to accede to the demand. In most transactional cases, the objective of the negotiation or bargaining is clear and apparent to both parties, as well as to the reader. In coercive situations, the power differential between coercer and victim makes such equal agency impossible.

It is worth exploring what it is that distinguishes transactional situations from coercive ones. One clarifying example arises in Gen. 31, when Rachel and Leah bargain with each other for the mandrakes plucked by Leah’s son Reuben. No coercive action takes place, though each woman may feel internal pressure to achieve the desired outcome, and it is this outcome that each woman is negotiating with the other to obtain. What is actually at stake for each of them is not the mandrake root; it is, rather, each woman’s relationship with Jacob.²¹ For Leah, the mandrakes offer the hope of brewing a love potion to capture Jacob’s affection. For Rachel, the mandrakes afford the hope of brewing a fertility potion that would facilitate a pregnancy. Both women understand that the mandrakes are a stand-in for what each wishes to have from Jacob. Rachel ultimately offers to give Leah access to Jacob, with an implicit opportunity to win his affection, in exchange for the mandrakes that she hopes will ensure her pregnancy.

In addition to the equal standing of the two participants and the ability of either one to walk away from the negotiation, the discourse is transactional, rather than coercive, because both parties understand the precise nature of the stakes of the negotiations, even if they are unstated. They ultimately agree to a mutually beneficial resolution; Leah cedes the mandrakes to Rachel in exchange for time with Jacob. In direct contrast to the coercive interaction between Jacob and Esau, in which each of the two participants understands the stakes differently, the act between Rachel and Leah is transactional precisely because both women know what it is that the mandrakes represent; they each understand what the underlying stakes are, and each freely agrees to the terms of the bargain.²²

To return to Gen. 25, Jacob is negotiating for a double share of inheritance, while Esau, as he sees it, is negotiating for his life. Jacob and Esau are not bargaining on the same terms; their interaction is coercive, not transactional, involving as it does an imbalance of power between perpetrator and victim and the perception on the part of the victim that he has no choice.

Resistance

The victim may choose to comply with a perpetrator’s demand or the victim may choose to resist. If the victim resists, the victim is rewarded. An unambiguous example of this pattern is found in 1 Kings 3.16–28, where two women come to Solomon for an adjudication. Each has given birth to a baby boy, but one baby perishes in the night. The two women enter the presence of the king, each claiming the living child for herself (1 Kgs. 3.16–23).

Solomon calls for his sword and threatens to cut the child in two, offering half to each mother. This is an act of coercion. Aside from the existing power differential between the king and the women, the king orders a sword brought, accompanied by a rhetorical threat to the child, further creating a circumstance in which both mothers feel they are helpless and without options (1 Kgs. 3.24–25).

The mother of the living child cries out, offering to let the deceptive mother have the living child rather than allowing her son to be cut in half ( victim resists , 1 Kgs. 3.26). At the same time, the mother of the dead child accedes to the king’s threat, saying that neither should have the living child ( victim complies , 1 Kgs. 3.26). Both mothers are victims of the king’s coercive threat to kill the child, and each is responsible for her own response. Solomon rewards the real mother (1 Kgs. 3.27), validating her claim to the baby and granting it to her. The narrative goes on to praise Solomon for his wisdom (1 Kgs. 3.28).

In this case, the perpetrator is the state, in the person of the king, who appears to offer an untenable choice to the two mothers, who are both the victims of his act of coercion. One of the victims, however, is prepared to accede to the king’s threat, and the other resists even if it means a heart-rending loss. The outcome is the reward of the victim who resists and the punishment of the victim who is prepared to comply. The evaluator in this event is all Israel, praising the coercer; Israel judges Solomon, whose coercive threat is a clever ploy to uncover the truth, to be the possessor of divine wisdom to execute justice.

A more complex interplay of coercion and response unfolds in examples from within the sub-categories of human/divine coercion, sexual coercion, and military coercion.

Human/Divine Coercion

The category of coercion as it applies to the direct relationship between God and Israel is complex, especially on account of the vast power differential between the human and the divine. This is a broad category that I discuss in the forthcoming larger work on coercion in Hebrew Bible narrative. In this section of the present study, I examine the narrower category of coercion within the context of acts by those who wish to subvert or otherwise harm human agents of the divine on account of their absolute faith in God. This is a person-to-person category; the divine is not a direct participant in the act of coercion itself.

When human coercion is directed against an agent of God, our pattern persists. In these examples, the victim of the coercive act is either an agent of God or an individual who exhibits extraordinary faith in God, and the faith of this victim is often tried by a vastly more powerful perpetrator, who is often a head of state or a nation. Even so, coercion resisted is viewed positively, and the victim who resists is rewarded.²³

A classic example is the case of the midwives who subvert the decree of Pharaoh to kill all Israelite newborn boys (Exod. 1.15–21).²⁴ The perpetrator of the coercive act is the king of Egypt, who holds the ultimate power of the state. He gives a direct order to the midwives, the victims of his coercion, to kill all male Hebrew babies, but to allow all the females to live (Exod. 1.16).²⁵ The midwives, who fear God (Exod. 1.17), resist the Egyptian king’s coercive demand and allow the boys to live. When the king of Egypt summons them to account (Exod. 1.18), the midwives deceive him, claiming that the Hebrew women, unlike Egyptians, always give birth before the midwife arrives (Exod. 1.19).²⁶ The midwives are rewarded directly by God for resisting the coercive attempt of the Egyptian king. God establishes dynasties for them as a reward in kind for their actions in helping the Israelites to multiply (Exod. 1.20–21).²⁷

More complex examples of human/divine coercion arise in the first half of the book of Daniel. Daniel 3.1–33 (Heb.) recounts the story of the Judaean exiles Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego. King Nebuchadnezzar erects an enormous statue of gold on a broad plain in Babylon (Dan. 3.1). The king ( perpetrator ) commands all the officials of Babylon to assemble for the dedication of the statue (Dan. 3.2–3), where a herald proclaims that all must fall down and worship a statue of gold; those who refuse will be thrown into a fiery furnace ( coercive act , Dan. 3.4–6). All the assembled people bow down to worship the statue ( compliance , Dan. 3.7).

A group of Chaldeans reports to the king that three Judaean officials have failed to worship the golden statue erected by the king (Dan. 3.8–12), an affront to the authority of the state. King Nebuchadnezzar is enraged and orders Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego to come before him (Dan. 3.13). The king reiterates his coercive decree as well as the threat of the fiery furnace for failure to comply (Dan. 3.14–15). The three Judaeans affirm their faith in God and refuse to worship the statue ( resistance , Dan. 3.16–18).

The king, enraged, again reiterates his coercion . He orders the furnace to be heated, and commands men of his army to bind the three Judaeans and throw them into it (Dan. 3.10–20). As they do, the flame of the overheated furnace kills the armed guards (Dan. 3.21–23). King Nebuchadnezzar sees four figures instead of three moving inside the furnace, and orders them to emerge from the fire. When they do, all the assembled officials gather around to witness the three men who have miraculously escaped death ( evaluation , Dan. 3.24–27).

Now, however, an elaboration of the pattern emerges. Upon witnessing this miracle, Nebuchadnezzar reverses his own decree, blessing the God of the Judaeans who sent an angel to save Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego ( reward ). The king also orders that anyone who blasphemes God be punished and promotes the three exiles in Babylon (Dan. 3.28–30). The chapter concludes with praise for the eternal God and for God’s miracles.

The three Judaeans resist all coercion, remaining loyal to the God of Israel even when they are consigned to fire by king Nebuchadnezzar. They function in this episode as agents of God, publicly demonstrating that they are faithful to the deity of Israel and their faith even in exile at the court of Nebuchadnezzar and even under threat of death. They are rewarded by miraculous rescue as well as by the king’s patronage.

The behavior of the king offers a more complex example. Initially the king complies with the demands of the Chaldeans, condemning the Judaeans to the fiery furnace. The result of that compliance is a symbolic rebuke to the king: those representing the king’s authority are killed by the flames, while those who resist the authority of the state are miraculously saved. This miracle transforms the king, who changes his behavior from compliance to resisting the pressure of his coercers. The Judaeans are rewarded for their resistance, surviving the flames and granted protection and promotion by the king; after reversing his decision to comply and instead choosing to resist the Chaldeans, the king is rewarded, as noted in the words of the king himself in the verse following his proclamation of faith (Dan 3.33): ‘I, Nebuchadnezzar, was living serenely in my house, flourishing in my palace’ (Dan. 4.1). The king’s new faith in the true God positions him, like Naaman (2 Kgs. 5), the Queen of Sheba (1 Kgs. 10.1–13; 2 Chron. 9.1–12) and Jethro (Exod. 18.9–12), among the righteous non-Israelites who recognize God’s universal power.

An analogous example also arises in Dan. 6.1–29 (Heb.), where the Judaean exile Daniel demonstrates his faith in God, and where the king again initially accedes to the coercive demands of his court but ultimately resists. Daniel, is elevated by the Persian king Darius to be one of a troika to whom all satraps report (Dan. 6.1–5). The satraps and ministers who now must report to him seek a way to challenge Daniel, but his only vulnerability appears to be his devotion to God (Dan. 6.6). Accordingly, the perpetrators , the satraps and ministers devise a coercive act . They band together to press the king to decree a royal ban on worshiping anyone but the king for the next thirty days (Dan. 6.7–8). The king, a victim of their coercion, complies as a result of their pressure (Dan. 6.9–10). The king is not their primary victim, however; their goal is to entrap Daniel and eliminate him.

Daniel defies the ban and continues to worship God ( victim resists , Dan. 6.11). The satraps and ministers push into his room, ambushing him, and report him to the king (Dan. 6.12–14). Now the king realizes the consequence for his hand-picked minister of his own royal compliance with the coercion of the satraps and ministers, and belatedly the king too resists . He seeks vainly for a loophole by which to save Daniel (Dan. 6.15–16), but the group of satraps and ministers has successfully backed the king into a procedural corner, requiring him to put Daniel to death. The coercive act is reiterated . The satraps and ministers insist on the king’s compliance with his own edict. As Daniel is thrown into a den of lions, the king expresses his faith in Daniel’s God (Dan. 6.17), but even so, Daniel is sealed in with the king’s own signet (Dan. 6.17–18).

The Persian king then fasts and keeps a vigil for Daniel and, at first light, rushes to check on him (Dan. 6.19–21). The king’s prayers and Daniel’s resistance to coercion are both rewarded by God. Daniel lives, giving God credit for his safety (Dan. 6.23) and emerging uninjured from the den of lions (Dan. 6.24). Daniel is rewarded for resisting coercion; his life is saved by God. The king’s loyalty to Daniel, his prayers to Daniel’s God, and his ultimate resistance to the coercion by his court are rewarded by reinforcing the King’s faith in Daniel’s God and by restoring Daniel to the service of the king.

At the same time that the resisting victims are rewarded, the unsuccessful perpetrators are punished . Even though the satraps and ministers have no issue with the God of Israel, when they attempt to eliminate Daniel, they are directly attacking someone whose rectitude and fidelity bear witness to the God of Israel and who functions in this narrative as an agent of God.²⁸ The conniving satraps are brought before the king and, with their wives and children, thrown into the same lion’s den,²⁹ condemned to the same death they would have had Daniel suffer (Dan. 6.25).³⁰ The Persian king Darius, whose reward is the recognition of the superiority of the God of Israel, requires of the entire kingdom fear and reverence for Daniel’s God who is powerful and who endures forever (Dan. 6.26–28), and Daniel continues to flourish through the reigns of Darius and Cyrus.

In this episode, even though the pattern is woven in a more complex variation, nevertheless those who are loyal to God and resist coercion succeed and are rewarded, and perpetrators who try unsuccessfully to coerce those who honor God are condemned or punished.³¹

Sexual Coercion

Another sub-category is that of sexual coercion, which includes cases of rape, adultery, and seduction. Among the tactics adopted by both perpetrators and victims in coercive sexual situations are deception and misdirection, including disguise. The first example discussed, building upon my previous work, is the episode of Judah and Tamar (Gen. 38).³²

In the story of Judah and Tamar, the initial coercive act occurs at Gen. 38.11 when Judah tells his daughter-in-law Tamar to return as a widow to her father’s house until Judah’s third son Shelah grows up. In this episode, Judah, the perpetrator , has all the power in this relationship—as is clear from his control over Tamar’s life and death later in 38.24—while the victim , Tamar, has none. Tamar offers no resistance to Judah’s command (Gen. 38.11). Judah’s goal is to preserve Shelah’s life, fearing for his youngest son after the deaths of his two older sons following intimacy with Tamar (Gen. 38.11). Judah gives Tamar no choice—she returns to her father. Her initial compliance may be due to her belief that Judah is sincere in his pledge to give her to Shelah.

However, Tamar offers delayed resistance to Judah’s coercive exclusion of her from his clan. She takes matters into her own hands when she comes to realize that Judah has no intention of keeping his pledge. Tamar then employs an indirect strategy: she disguises herself with a view to seducing Judah, who takes her for a harlot (Gen 38.14).

The episode continues as Judah and Tamar negotiate the price that Judah will pay to sleep with her, and Tamar secures a pledge from Judah. The items in pledge that Tamar requests represent Judah’s identity, which she hopes to use later when she reveals her disguise, and thus are more valuable to Tamar than the kid from Judah’s flock secured by the pledge. Judah gives Tamar the staff, cord, and seal she asks for. This interaction between Judah and Tamar is transactional and not coercive, since there is no explicit or implicit threat of force in Tamar’s request for a pledge and Judah retains his full autonomy; he may choose to walk away rather than comply. Instead, Judah consummates his desire.

Judah’s second coercive act is triggered by the report that Tamar is pregnant (38.24–25). Her betrothal to Shelah requires her to remain chaste; her act of adultery is punishable by death. The perpetrator’s threat of violence is very much present as Tamar is brought out to be burned according to Judah’s decree. Tamar is completely at Judah’s mercy. Her resistance to his life-threatening coercion is characteristically indirect. By showing Judah proof that he is the child’s father, Tamar offers him the choice of acknowledging his role and responsibility or killing at one stroke both Tamar and his own seed. Judah backs away from his threat and affirms the righteousness of Tamar’s initiative in continuing his line. Tamar is rewarded by God for her courage to resist, by bearing twins, a symbol of divine blessing (Gen. 38.27). Judah is not condemned for his coercive actions but instead is judged well for his ability to take responsibility and acknowledge Tamar’s righteousness. The very lineage he tried to withhold from Tamar will dominate those of his brothers; King David is among his descendants.

A more complex episode of sexual coercion arises in the interaction among David, Bathsheba, and Uriah the Hittite (2 Sam. 11.1–12.25). At the start of the episode, David remains behind, while his armies, led by his general Joab, go out to battle Ammon. From the roof of his palace, David spies a woman bathing and discovers she is Bathsheba, daughter of one of his nobles, who is married to Uriah the Hittite (2 Sam. 11.1–3). In his first act of coercion in this episode, David ( the perpetrator ) sends messengers who seize Bathsheba ( the victim ).³³ She comes to the palace and he lies with her. The narrative notes that she is purified of her period, thereby identifying David as the father of the child when she notifies him that she has conceived (2 Sam. 11.4–5).³⁴

The context of David’s actions is inherently coercive. David is, after all, the king. There is no one to defend Bathsheba, as all the able-bodied men are away at war, including her husband. Even though the king has been informed that Bathsheba is a married woman, he sends messengers, who physically seize Bathsheba. The woman has no choice. Bathsheba complies with David’s act of coercion. The power differential between Bathsheba and the king, the terse account of the messengers sent to bring her to the palace, and her silence throughout the episode except for her curt announcement that she is pregnant, reinforce the idea that Bathsheba feels she has no choice and experiences the king’s action as coercive.

When David hears that Bathsheba is pregnant, he engages in a second act of coercion in order to mask the effects of his first. David ( the perpetrator ) commands Joab to send Bathsheba’s husband Uriah the Hittite to David (2 Sam. 11.6). David asks a few perfunctory questions and then tells Uriah ( the victim ) to go to his own house and bathe. Uriah leaves the royal palace followed by gifts from the king (2 Sam. 11.7–8). But Uriah resists and does not go to his house, sleeping instead at the entrance of the royal palace, in full view of other officers of the king. When David hears that Uriah has not gone to his house, he intensifies his coercive pressure. David challenges Uriah, who intensifies his resistance , saying that he cannot eat and drink and sleep with his wife when Israel is at war and the king’s men are camped in the open. With these words Uriah resists David’s second attempt to coerce him into returning home, explicitly refusing to sleep with his wife (2 Sam. 11.9–11). The nature and vehemence of Uriah’s concluding exclamation to David, ‘As you live, by your very life, I will not do this!’ (2 Sam. 11.11) suggests that Uriah knows what the king has done and refuses to offer him cover for his rape and adultery.³⁵ But, whatever his motivation, Uriah resists the coercive attempts of the king. Though he receives no reward for his resistance, he claims the moral high ground, while David is ultimately condemned for killing Uriah.

The structural pattern I propose in this study allows for condemnation of the coercer when the victim resists and for praise of the victim who resists.

In a further intensification of coercive pressure upon Uriah, the next day David summons him to eat and drink with the king until Uriah is drunk. Even so, Uriah does not go down to his home, although it is close enough to the palace for the king to view a woman bathing there; instead, Uriah chooses again to sleep in the open (2 Sam. 11.12–13), never out of public sight.

David understands that Uriah will continue to resist the king’s coercion, and so he writes a letter to Joab (the victim) that Uriah will hand-deliver, in which David ( the perpetrator ) commands his army general to set Uriah up to be killed: ‘Place Uriah in the front line where the fighting is fiercest; then fall back so that he may be killed’ (2 Sam. 11.15). Joab complies with David’s command, making sure to include Uriah’s death in his report of the battle to David. David returns a message of reassurance to Joab (2 Sam. 12.18–25). With Uriah dead, David takes Bathsheba into the palace as a wife (2 Sam. 11.26–27); the child of their adultery is born but only lives a short time (2 Sam. 12.15–19).

David’s unorthodox command to put his own men in danger blurs the boundary between legitimate command and act. Although a thorough discussion of this distinction is beyond the scope of this paper, as with other examples of coercive acts within contexts of unequal power, David is king of Israel and his duty is to protect those who serve him irrespective of his personal desires. David’s coercive behavior subverts that duty: David is responsible for the death of Uriah. Joab’s responsibility to resist or to accede to David’s act of coercion is ambiguous. On the one hand, David is Joab’s commander and holds the power of the state in his command; on the other hand, Joab is responsible for the lives of his men. Joab understands that David’s order crosses a line but obeys it anyway, acceding to the king.³⁶ The outcome of Joab’s compliance with David’s coercive action is also ambiguous: Joab is not punished specifically for his compliance in this instance, but as a whole the judgment of the text ( evaluator ) upon Joab is negative. On his deathbed, David condemns Joab for many reasons and urges Solomon not to let him die in peace (1 Kgs. 2.5–6). Joab is later killed at the king’s command (1 Kgs. 2.28–34), though Uriah’s name is not mentioned and it seems that Joab is killed in revenge for the deaths of Abner and Amasa and, implicitly, for that of Absalom. The relationship between David and Joab is complex and fraught, and this problematic episode is only one of many. Nevertheless, the judgment of the text repeatedly condemns Joab, whose rocky relationship with David will end in the ultimate betrayal.

As for Bathsheba, the ultimate judgment of the text ( evaluator ) is that, having been raped, she was not compliant in the adultery.³⁷ This is especially likely since the sexual assaults and transgressions that abound among David’s children are framed as punishments for his transgressions with respect to Bathsheba and Uriah (2 Sam. 12.9–12). As David’s wife, Bathsheba becomes a power behind the throne, ultimately acting together with the court prophet Nathan to insure that her son Solomon succeeds his father David (1 Kgs. 1.11–31).

The greatest punishment , in fact, is reserved for the perpetrator of coercion whose victim resists to his death. Nathan, David’s court prophet ( evaluator ) tells David that he has been condemned by God ( judgment ) for both adultery and murder (2 Sam. 12.9). In a measure-for-measure punishment, God swears that the sword shall never depart from David’s house and that sexual transgression will trouble it in the light of day, even though David acted in secret (2 Sam. 12.10–12).³⁸ Nathan also proclaims that although David will not die, the child who is the product of his sins will (2 Sam. 12.13–14). Further, Nathan’s dire prophecy is again fulfilled with the death of David’s favorite son, Absalom (2 Sam. 19.1 [Heb.; Eng. 18.33]), when David laments, ‘My son Absalom! O my son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you! O Absalom, my son, my son!’

Military Coercion

An unambiguous example of military coercion occurs in 1 Samuel 11.1–15. Nahash the Ammonite besieges Jabesh-gilead. The men of Jabesh-gilead ( the victims ) initially comply with this act of military coercion by Ammon ( perpetrator ), offering to make a treaty to serve the Ammonites. But Nahash of Ammon punishes them by escalating the terms, requiring that everyone’s right eye be gouged out (1 Sam. 11.1–2). The elders of Jabesh resist this second act of coercion and ask for seven days reprieve, to call for assistance. The Israelites react helplessly when they receive this news, weeping with despair (1 Sam. 11.3–4). Saul is told about the threat to the men of Jabesh and resists the Ammonite threat by mustering 30,000 Israelites to war (1 Sam. 11.6–8). He sends word to Jabesh-gilead that rescue will arrive the next day (1 Sam. 11.9) and the men of Jabesh-gilead mislead the Ammonites by agreeing to surrender completely the following day (1 Sam. 11.10).

The reward for Israelite resistance is a clear victory over the enemy: early the next day Saul and the troops defeat the Ammonites (1 Sam. 11.11). Saul’s reward is doubly affirmed; in addition to the military victory over a long-standing enemy, he is chosen as Israel’s first anointed king (1 Sam. 11.12–15).

Much later, after the Philistine victory over Israel at Mt. Gilboa, the Philistines discover the bodies of Saul and his sons on the field of battle (1 Sam. 31.8). They cut off his head, strip him of his armor, and send the bodies throughout the land of the Philistines to spread the word of their victory. Then they impale the bodies on the wall of Beth-shan (1 Sam. 31.10). Like Nahash and his threat to put out the eyes of the men of Jabesh-gilead, the Philistines ( the perpetrators ) engage in acts of military coercion which may have been intended to intimidate Jabesh-gilead ( the victims ). By demeaning the dead and showcasing their own might, the perpetrators seek to make the victims feel there is no choice but to surrender. Undeterred, the men of Jabesh-gilead are determined to resist Philistine intimidation. They owe a special debt of loyalty to Saul and his house; as we saw, Saul’s first military act as king was to rescue Jabesh-gilead from the Ammonites (1 Sam. 11.1–15). The men of Jabesh-gilead thus march all night and rescue the bodies of Saul and his sons, bringing the remains back to Jabesh and fasting for seven days in mourning (1 Sam. 31.11–13). This loyalty catches the attention of David (2 Sam. 2.4–7), who rewards their faithfulness by invoking God’s blessing upon them (1 Sam. 2.5–6). At the same time David also promises to add his own reward, as he indirectly invites them to transfer their loyalty from Saul, who is dead, to David himself (2 Sam. 2.6–7).

Conclusion

Coercion in Hebrew Bible narrative is an area that has not been investigated before from an academic perspective. Only a few examples have been analyzed in this paper, but they have already offered new insights. An exhaustive analysis of all of the approximately 100 examples of coercion in all categories in Hebrew Bible narrative remains to be done in order to identify the variations and possible limitations of these syntagmatic and actantial patterns. I hope to address this analysis in forthcoming work. Analysis of ambiguous examples in each category and sub-category will be undertaken to identify whether there are ever extenuating circumstances that disrupt or invert the patterns identified here. In addition, insights into power relationships and the narrative view of Israelite and non-Israelite perpetrators and victims are likely to emerge.

The Hebrew Bible is morally neutral on the act of coercion itself, focusing instead on the nature of the victim’s response. Biblical narrative views coercion as a rhetorical act, as understood by Burgess, and insists that the victim has a choice as to whether or not to comply. The moral value, affirmed repeatedly in every biblical book from all eras of redaction, is that it is imperative for any victim to resist acts of coercion, whoever the perpetrator and whatever the consequences. As we have seen, the Hebrew Bible, like Burgess, insists upon the victim’s ability to weigh, judge, and resist coercion in all coercive situations, whatever the power differential, and whatever the personal, political, or theological context. Victims who resist coercion are rewarded. Victims who succumb are condemned. In biblical episodes of coercion, in fact, most victims resist and are praised, blessed, or otherwise rewarded, even if their resistance is at the cost of their lives. In addition, most perpetrators are condemned and possibly punished. These principles hold true even within complex narratives featuring compound variations of the structural syntagmatic pattern of coercion. The underlying pattern defined in this paper appears to be subtle in early biblical narrative and becomes more explicit, even salient, in the later books of Daniel and 1 and 2 Maccabees.

Wider theological implications

The pattern defined in this paper that recurs so often throughout biblical narrative may have helped to shape the rabbinic expectation of martyrdom, as well as the theologies of Christian and Islamic martyrdom. Rabbinic commentators, who were extremely proficient and sensitive readers of the Hebrew Bible, appear to have internalized the pattern emerging from these examples and applied the biblical value of resistance to coercion of all kinds in order to shape the rabbinical response to Hellenic, Roman, and Christian pressure to repudiate their faith in the God of Israel. According to the scholar Daniel Boyarin, Jewish martyrology holds that God requires Jews to demonstrate a passionate commitment to both God and Torah expressed in a public declaration of loyalty to God and to Torah even in the face of official demands to betray that allegiance or die, and the understanding that this act fulfills the religious mandate of choosing death over apostasy.³⁹

Beyond biblical scholars, these results will be of particular interest to scholars of the history of religion, especially of ancient and medieval Judaism and Christianity, as each may have evolved from moral values encoded in the Hebrew Bible. The results of this study also have implications for the fields of philosophy of religion and comparative religion who have an interest in the history and evolution of ethics and moral values, encompassing the implication for the history of religion of an internalized imperative that God demands resistance to coercion at all costs. Homiletically, these studies also raise issues for those who regard the Bible as morally and ethically authoritative in the 21st century: what is the impact of the insight that acts of coercion are inherently value-neutral in the Hebrew Bible? Is coercive action ever called for or required? When biblical acts of coercion are condoned or even praised, when the victims of coercion are despised for their submission, on what are we to model our own actions today? These and other questions remain.

Footnotes

ORCID iD

Diane M. Sharon

1

I am indebted to my colleagues and teachers Stephen A. Geller and Edward L. Greenstein, who read and commented upon earlier drafts of this study. Any remaining issues or errors are my own responsibility.

2

In general, the subject of coercion appears to be of special interest to scholars of all fields during times of social, political, or cultural unrest. Much of the theoretical insight into the nature of coercion cited in this article arises out of the social unrest of 1960s and early 1970s. I am writing this article in the second half of 2020, in the midst of nationwide demonstrations for racial equity and in a country deeply divided by political polarization.

3

The literature of speech theory reveals an ongoing discussion of the nature of coercion, with some identifying it as an act of violence, and others as an act of persuasion. See, for example, the articles and citations in Burgess, 1970, 1973, responding in part to Andrews, 1969, 1970. See also Beisecker, 1970. For the purposes of this discussion, I take my definition of coercion from the field of rhetorical studies.

4

Burgess, 1973: 63–64.

5

Burgess, 1973: 63–64n2, acknowledges that violence arises within coercive situations, but maintains that the primary focus and intent of the act of violence is to support an act of coercion.

6

See, for example, Burgess, 1968, 1970, .

7

Burgess, 1973: 63, emphasis his.

13

This segment of the Jack Benny radio program of March 28, 1948, may be heard at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tVzdUczMT0. The entire radio program of that date may be heard at .

14

It is entirely in keeping with Benny’s constructed persona that, although a gun is pointed at him, he takes the time to weigh whether he would rather risk his money or his life. It is this pause that brings the audience to laughter, a successful outcome for this genre of comedy.

15

Burgess, 1973: 63.

16

Syntagmatic structural analysis was pioneered by Vladimir Propp, who applied the principles of Russian formalism to the study of narrative, specifically to the Russian fairy tale. His work was first published in Russian in 1928, with the first English translation appearing in 1956. See Propp, 1968. Propp was influential for subsequent iterations of structural narrative theory; most relevant to the present work is his influence upon the model of actantial analysis by A. Greimas. Episodes of coercion in biblical narrative are of a different genre from that of the Russian fairy tale and require their own semiotic structural pattern to be defined and applied. See, for example, my work on applying semiotic structural analysis to a biblical corpus of eating and drinking events in Sharon, 2002, and to one particular series of coercive episodes in Sharon, 2005.

17

Actantial analysis can reveal parallels and divergences in such areas as desire, ability, and knowledge of character roles that in turn can yield insights into power relationships and gender roles encoded in these texts. Actantial analysis, which arises out of Proppian structural analysis, was pioneered in literary theory by Algirdas Greimas, and in biblical studies by Daniel Patte. This approach makes possible the identification of the relational dynamics and ethical values embedded in coercive acts in biblical narrative. See, for example, Greimas, 1987. On the biblical analysis of Daniel Patte, see Patte 1976, 1980, 1990, 1995, 1998; Patte and Patte, 1978.

18

Burgess, 1973: 63.

19

Upon reading the episode of Jacob, Esau, and the birthright (Gen. 25.28–34), I was struck by the absence of any other behavior on the part of Esau, aside from acceding to Jacob’s coercion, that would merit the condemnation of the narrator (Gen. 25.34).

20

This particular feature of circumscribing the victim’s sense of having a choice is emphasized by Burgess, 1973, in response to Andrews and discussed earlier in this work. Both Burgess and Andrews discuss the relationship between coercive acts of rhetoric and persuasive rhetorical acts, but neither directly addresses at length the difference between coercive rhetoric and transactional rhetoric such as the bargaining between Rachel and Leah in Gen. 31 or other biblical episodes of negotiation. See Andrews, 1970, and Burgess, 1973.

21

On the functions of mandrakes in biblical folklore, see, for example, Ackerman, 2014.

22

Other episodes of negotiation or bargaining in the Hebrew Bible include Gen. 18.17–33 (Abraham bargains with God about Sodom); Gen. 23.1–20 (Abraham negotiates with the Hittites for the Cave of Machpelah); Num. 27.1–11; 36.1–12 (the daughters of Zelophehad and their tribesmen negotiate with Moses about their inheritance); Num. 32.1–42 (Reuben, Gad and half of the tribe of Manasseh negotiate with Moses about their inheritance in the Trans-Jordan).

23

Of note, the pattern of compliance or resistance to coercion does not apply in cases involving God’s direct participation (rather than an agent representing God). Total obedience to God is required when God is an actor in an episode. This distinction is among the variations examined more fully in my larger work on coercion, forthcoming.

24

The biblical text (Exod. 1.15) uses the phrase לַמְיַלְּדֹת הָֽעִבְרִיֹּ֑ת‎, which can be translated as either to the Hebrew midwives or to the midwives [to] the Hebrews.Their audience before Pharaoh in the Egyptian court and Pharaoh’s expectation that they will obey his decree to the letter argue for the latter interpretation, but their ethnic identity as either Hebrew or Egyptian is ambiguous. Their names, Shiphrah and Puah, may have Northwest Semitic origins. See, for example, Albright, 1954: 223, 229.

25

On the obscure term אָבְנָיִם‎, ’avnayim, translated by JPS as birthing stool, see Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (HALOT) 74, 2.

26

A strategy often employed by those with less power against those with more power is deception or misdirection. David Marcus and Ora Horn Prouser have studied the inverse relationship between successful deception and the status of the deceiver. See Marcus, 1986, and Prouser, 1991.

27

It has been suggested that another coercive episode involving Pharaoh and a representative of God is Moses’ interaction with Pharaoh in Exod. 7–12. Throughout these chapters, Pharaoh resists Moses’ demands to release the Hebrews to worship their God. However, the circumstances of their negotiation, and of the application of the ten plagues, is not strictly a coercive situation as defined in this paper. Instead, the episode is a theomachy, a battle of the gods, and a struggle for supremacy between God and Pharaoh. The plagues represent elements of a cosmic battle between the God of Israel and the gods of Egypt. Just a few examples: the Nile, turned to blood in the first plague, was an important fertility god in the Egyptian pantheon. The second plague was aimed at the frog-headed Egyptian goddess Heqt. The fifth plague was a pestilence against Egyptian livestock targeted at the cow-headed Egyptian goddess Hat-hor. The ninth plague of darkness challenges the Egyptian sun god Aten. The tenth plague was a direct assault upon the power of the Pharaoh, who was equated to the Egyptian god Horus. The assumption by each of the parties to the theomachy, God and Pharaoh, is that he alone is the supreme deity governing life and death. Thorough analysis of this episode is part of a separate article currently in preparation.

28

On the idea of the function of a miracle to affirm God’s power and the authenticity of God’s agents, see Sharon, 2002: 55–59.

29

Here punishment of the satraps and ministers is also borne by their families. Similarly, when Achan violates the proscription of Jericho’s spoils he and his entire clan are executed (Josh. 7.1–24). The criminal and civil codes are supplemented in the Hebrew Bible by the divine code with a more rigorous set of consequences for transgression, analogous to a concept of eliminating malignancy by eliminating the cancer as well as a clean margin of tissue. On the biblical concept of contagion and malignancy, see, for example, Jacob Milgrom’s introduction to Lev. 1–16 in Milgrom, 1991.

30

In the ancient Near East bearers of false accusations suffer the same fate that would have befallen their victim, see, for example, the Code of Hammurabi, laws 3 and 4, in Harper and Desnoyers, 1904. Also note the law of false witness in Deut. 19.19.

31

This identical pattern is also evident in Ezra’s determination to rally Israelite returnees to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem, an effort that is hampered by the coercive threat of those who seek to subvert his efforts (Ezra 4.1–6.18).

32

See Sharon, 2005.

33

On he seized her, וַיִּקָּחֶהָ‎, see HALOT 4690 לקח‎ —1. to take, grasp, seize. The connotations of this verb, reinforced by the context of royal prerogative suggest that the taking is by means of force, against her will.

34

The text is explicit that Bathsheba is purifying herself after her period. In the biblical era, until the second Temple, there is no archaeological evidence of specially constructed ritual baths. Rather, in the biblical period rainwater was collected on the rooftop for purposes of ritual purification, as after menstruation for women, or a night emission for men (see, for example, Lev. 15.16). See Gibson, 2007. The suggestion by some that Bathsheba purposely bathes on her roof where she will be seen by the king is reminiscent of the attitude of men who for generations have suggested that victims of rape and sexual abuse are ‘asking for it’.

35

On the many ambiguities in the text of this episode, see, for example, Sternberg, 1985: 188–219.

36

For another view, see Garsiel, 1993, especially 259–61.

37

Aside from Bathsheba’s ultimate success in David’s court, there is intertextual evidence that the narrative considers that she is a victim of rape and not compliant with adultery. There are many linguistic parallels between this episode in 2 Sam. 11 and the rape of Tamar by David’s son Amnon in 2 Sam. 13. Tamar resists Amnon’s coercion but is still raped; Bathsheba does not resist overtly, but parallel language suggests parallels between the two, perhaps suggesting that Bathsheba is considered a rape victim as well.

38

Ultimately, David suffers the deaths of four of his sons and the rape of his concubines during Absalom’s attempted coup (2 Sam. 16.22).

39

See Boyarin, 1999: 95–96. See also the Talmud, Sanhedrin 74a, where R. Yoh.anan teaches in the name of R. Shimon ben Yehotzadak that the preservation of life takes precedence. If someone is told to transgress in order to avoid death, they are to comply rather than be killed for all but three sins: idolatry, murder, and the sexual sins of incest, adultery, or bestiality.

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