Thursday, March 6, 2025

Judges 20: In Writing

Slogan Walk

  

All together. At once.

My baby’s teeth are rotting.

Only two, and they teeter

like fragile stalactites

devoured from the sides.

In their death they command us victory.

His wails weave

through the bannered street

Bring them home now!

We will win together

intertwine with the slogans

514 days. 

He is hungry, and tired

the nurse forbid 

even mother’s milk

Gonenim is strong together.

All morning, he scrounged desperately

and I grabbed

away each comfort.

We are bringing them home NOW.

 

a year in captivity

we pass the plastered bus stop 

with its signs

and remnants.

Eden won't return

Elad won't return

Elad won't return.

won't return. won’t return


Iconized faces, with their visceral demands

language of the body

urgent and voiceless.

 

Monday, March 3, 2025

Judges: Chapter 20


 United as one
against one--
answer now
no questions.


For full chapter, click here

If the opening of the Book of Judges detailed the movement from individual to tribe, its closing begins the movement from tribe to nation, as "all the Israelites... the community assembled as one" in Mitzpeh. The all-inclusive, national nature of the gathering is emphasized five times in two verses, and reinforced by the use of the rare verb k'h'l--from the same root of the hakhel, the ceremony in which the king reads to the full assembly of the people every seven years.


Yet this idealized version of an "assembly of God" unified as "one man" is undermined in the very next section, in which we are told that "Benjamin heard that the Israelites had assembled." It is not all the assembly, nor all the tribes: the sudden cohesion of the national group takes place around the creation of an outgroup: Benjamin. This retroactive exclusion casts an ironic light on the sonorous opening--and on the characterization of the gathering as the "assembly of God".


The irony gains force, as the Levite, now described as "the husband of the murdered woman" rather than the "master" of the abandoned concubine, gives his testimony. The story matches the Levite's new persona of grieving husband, and is a mix of subtle distortions and lies-by-omission. Like the Dannites, the Levite knows how to control the narrative: Now it is the entire city of Geva that attacked him, rather than the rabble; they saught murder, not rape; and they somehow captured his wife, with no mention of how he actively shoved her out the door to the surrounding mob. There are hints to his heartlessness, as he psychopathically describes how he  "took hold of my concubine and I cut her in pieces," yet no one questions him. He closes his testimony with a call for action, demanding "a plan here and now!"


The Israelites "answer as one," no questions asked. War on Geva is the plan. They gather against the city, 'as one man, friends,"--the irony now heavy and ugly. Benjamin is told to hand over the perpetrators for execution. Turned into an outgroup, its people sentenced sans trial, Benjamin hunkers down defensively and refuses.  As the tribe gathers for war, with its troop of elite left-handed warriors, we are returned to the opening of the book, with Ehud, the left-handed savior from Benjamin. All this power will now be turned against the nation, instead of acting to save it. 


The past continues to reverberate, as the people ask God "who shall advance for us first, to fight Benjamin?" echoing the question that opened this book, "who shall advance for us first, to fight the Canaanites?" The fight against an external enemy has turned inward. Now, as then, the answer is Judah--but with a crucial difference. If in the fight against the Canaanites, God promises victory, here He is notably silent as to the outcome. Israel, deaf to nuance, rush to action, no questions asked. Only after they are soundly beaten do they begin to think about whether they should have attacked "my brother Benjamin" in the first place.


The  Israelites win by setting a trap--a near-perfect replication of the battle of Ai.  As in Ai, the warriors are lured out of the city, leaving it vulnerable to an ambush party that sets it on fire.  As with Ai, the warriors only realize their mistake when they turn to see the column of smoke rising from the city behind them. The intertextual links are numerous: the "about thirsty" and "about thirty-six" slain; the use of the lottery; the escape toward the desert;  the repeated mentions of Bet El; the phrase "for an outrage (nevela) has been done in Israel."


The linkage to Ai is illuminating, both for its similarities and its differences. Ai, Israel's first defeat, came to teach a bitter lesson in the cost of ationhood and collective responsibility: all of Israel were held accountable for Achan's nevela, and the entire nation was defeated for his sin. No wonder then Israel's immediate and unified desire to "stamp out this evil" when a nevela is committed in Geva: all are responsible, all will be punished. 


Yet it is here that the two lotteries are revealing. In Ai, it is God who initiates the lottery to identify the guilty party, narrowing down from tribe, to clan, to person.   Even after Achan is selected, Joshua waits for a confession, and then seeks to back the confession with concrete proof. Only then does Joshua punish Achan. Here, the nation initiates the lottery to select warriors to destroy Geva. Collective guilt is assigned, with no confession, or attempt at proof.  And in meting out punishment, the nation is as ruthless to the entire tribe of Benjamon as they were to the guilty Achan. The destruction of the cities of Benjamin goes beyond the destruction meted out on Ai: even their animals and belongings are decimated. 


Indeed, if Geva recreated Sodom, here the Israelites recreate Sodom's destruction, leaving nothing but fire. 


Yet this stands in stark contrast to Abraham, who begs God to consider if there are any righteous in Sodom who might redeem it. Here, there is no search for redemption, only the unifying surge of indignation, which ironically leaves the most guilty party unpunished]