Pharisees in Josephus: Narratives and Philosophy

Chapter 6 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus What do we really know about the Pharisees? A hallmark of Jacob Neusner’s scholarship is the maxim “what we cannot show, we do not know.” More than three decades ago, he demonstrated that impatience in resolving historical questions about the Pharisees had led scholars to approach the evidence—i.e., the literary sources—in a jejune manner.1 he result was a bewildering array of mutually exclusive hypotheses, each requiring assent to certain prior assumptions, and none susceptible of proof in a meaningful sense.2 Neusner insisted rather that we irst attend to the portrait of the Pharisees in each text as a construction suited to the work’s interests, date, and audience—a principle he has applied systematically to rabbinic literature, with profound consequences for interpreters and historians alike. Only when the evidence is thus understood in situ can we reasonably formulate historical hypotheses to explain it. In the spirit of Neusner’s distinction between interpreting texts and historical reconstruction, my work has focused on understanding Josephus’s narratives—most recently in the context of post-70 Flavian Rome, where Josephus’s irst audiences were to be found. his is itself a historical kind of interpretation, and a necessary propadeutic to eforts at reconstructing the history behind the texts. Yet it tends to sharpen the distinction between interpretation—focused upon the text as medium of communication—and reconstruction of realities behind the text. his approach commends itself not because one should not care about the underlying history or the external referents, but rather because reconstruction of them, which remains an aspiration for most readers of Josephus, must be conducted with a rigor suicient to explain all relevant evidence, whether literary or material.3 In Josephus’s case, the very richness and subtlety of the evidence render eforts to get behind it—to events as we might have seen them—fraught with peril. Archaeology or parallel literary accounts may provide independent conirmation of certain scenic elements (sites, buildings, distances, provincial administration, military practices, names of key igures) mentioned by Josephus; 1 From Politics to Piety: he Emergence of Pharisaic Judaism (Englewood Clifs: Prentice Hall, 1973), 13. 2 Examples in Mason, Josephus on the Pharisees, 1–10 and related notes. 3 On the problem of historical method and the use of Josephus, see S. Mason, Josephus and the New Testament (2d rev. ed.; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003). 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 186 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA very rarely do we have such other material for reaching behind Josephus’s accounts of who did what, when, and why. his and the next chapter are therefore about Josephus’s Pharisees, not about the Pharisees as they understood themselves, or as we might have encountered them via time travel. his irst chapter examines the role of the Pharisees in Josephus’s narratives. hose passages in which he halts the action to present the Pharisees as a philosophical school, alongside Essenes and Sadducees, we shall reserve for the next chapter. Any interpretation of Josephus’s Pharisees must reckon with a basic fact, all too oten overlooked. Namely, the group igures only incidentally in his thirty volumes: one could write a fairly detailed account of Josephus and each of his four compositions without mentioning the Pharisees. hey are not even as prominent as other minor supporting players—Herod’s executed sons, Parthian rulers (even Adiabenians), Arabians, Pompey the Great, the Egyptian Queen Cleopatra—let alone the major igures of Josephus’s stories: biblical, Herodian, Hasmonean, or revolutionary. In Judean War, the Pharisees are named in seven sentences in books 1 and 2. Although they shape the narrative in perhaps iteen sentences all told, they do not appear in the main story (viz., books 3–7). In the leisurely twenty-volume narrative of Antiquities they get more space, though again not in the trunk of the work anticipated in the prologue (Ant. 1.5–26), namely: books 1 through 11 or 12. As in War, Pharisees appear mainly in connection with the Hasmonean and Herodian sections of Antiquities. hey account for some twenty of the 432 sections in book 13 (thus, one part in forty-two in that volume), and receive glancing mention in book 15, a paragraph at 17.41–45, plus a couple of sentences in book 18 (outside the schools passage there). In the 430 sections of Josephus’s one-volume Life, an appendix to Antiquities, Pharisees appear at two crucial points (Life 12, 191–198; incidentally at 21). Against Apion, which explains and defends the Judean constitution and laws, omits them along with the other two schools.4 he four philosophical-school passages, subject of chapter 2 in this book, do not alter this impression of the Pharisees’ narrative marginality. In War 2.119–166, Pharisees and Sadducees are both dwarfed by the Essenes. In Antiquities 13.171– 173, each school receives one sentence. In Antiquities 18.12–15, the Pharisees again receive less attention (and praise) than the Essenes (18.18–20). And in Life 10–11, all three schools yield immediately to Josephus’s beloved teacher Bannus. We should realize from the start, then, that Josephus could have had no serious axes to grind concerning the Pharisees, or none that he expected to communicate to audiences who lacked our technologies for locating and assembling “Pharisee passages.” A Roman audience could have been forgiven if, ater hearing or reading Josephus, they did not remember much about this group. his does not mean that Josephus had no view of the Pharisees, which we might still discern in what he wrote—because we are interested in the question and it is easy for 4 Essene positions, however, are now ascribed to the whole nation, as Porphyry seems to have realized (Abst. 4.11.1–2). Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 187 us to gather the material. But given the textual data, we should be wary of theories that make the Pharisee passages drive interpretations of Josephus’s works or even his thought in general. It may be tempting to elevate the historical worth of the few Pharisee passages in Josephus on the principle that, precisely because the group is not signiicant in his narratives, he had little stake in massaging their image; thus, his incidental remarks likely relect the historical situation. Yet Josephus is an artful writer, entirely capable of exploiting for momentary purposes even the smallest bit-player—youthful hot-head, courageous ighter, would-be tyrant.5 We cannot so easily escape the web of his narrative world, even in the case of minor players. Here, then, is a survey of the Pharisees in Josephus’s narratives. In Judean War Since the Pharisees appear almost exclusively in the Hasmonean and Herodian stretches of War, my sketch of the relevant context will focus on those sections in books 1 and 2, which are preparatory to the book’s main story. Josephus wrote Judean War in the diicult environment of Rome in the 70s. he recent victory of Vespasian and his son Titus was being exuberantly celebrated (in the triumph, the new monumental buildings, coins, arches, and literature) as a primary legitimation of Flavian authority.6 Predictably, the conlict was being reported in fawning pro-Flavian “histories,” to the severe detriment of the Judeans. Josephus responds to this situation with a work that will, he claims, attempt to restore some balance (1.1–2, 6–8). he irst sentence identiies him as a proud aristocrat and priest from Jerusalem, who fought against the Romans at the beginning and was then compelled to watch from their side (1.3). his rare curriculum vitae allowed him enviable claim to the balance of perspectives that had been prized as the key to impartiality since Herodotus invented “history”— objectivity in the modern sense being not yet on the horizon—as well as the eyewitness access required by hucydides and Polybius. In a complex and oten brilliant narrative, Josephus will develop some of the following thematic lines: the essential virtue of the Judeans and the dignity of their leaders; their long sufering under incompetent and corrupt Roman equestrian governors; the Judeans’ manly virtue and contempt for pain and death (oten contrasted with the behavior of hapless legionaries); the gravitas of 5 Josephus’s intricate handling of the biblical narrative is the best documented analysis of his narrative methods (Moehring, “Novelistic Elements”; Feldman, Rewritten Bible; idem., Interpretation; idem., Judean Antiquities 1–4; C. Begg, Judean Antiquities 5–7 (vol. 4 of Flavius Josephus: Translation and Commentary; ed. Steve Mason; Leiden: Brill, 2004). For the historical implications, see Moehring “Joseph ben Matthia”; Steve Mason, “Contradiction or Counterpoint? Josephus and Historical Method.” Review of Rabbinic Judaism 6 (2003): 145–88. 6 See F. Millar, “Last Year in Jerusalem: Monuments of the Jewish War in Rome.” in Flavius Josephus (ed. Edmondson, Mason, and Rives), 101–28. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 188 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA their aristocratic leaders, who would either have fought a more successful war or reached respectable terms with the Romans, had they lived; the civil war that threatened and inally erupted when a few tyrants managed to overturn aristocratic control and so precipitate the inal disaster. he unifying theme of all this is the question of the Judean ethnic character. In antiquity it was widely assumed that behavior issued from one’s innate character: both individuals and groups behaved the way they did because of their character. In the case of individuals, this principle may be seen in the rhetorical structure of legal defenses—the frequently used argument from “probability” appealed to the ancestry, familial glory, education, and virtue of the accused, with surprisingly little attention directed to the facts of the case: “he accused could not plausibly have done what he is charged with because of his character (including ancestry and glorious deeds)!”7 Similarly, ethnographers, geographers, and historians tended to see correlations among the characters or natures of whole peoples, their environmental conditions, their political constitutions, and their national behavior.8 hus, when Tacitus sets out to describe the fall of Jerusalem in 70 c.e., he thinks it important to supply an explanation of the Judeans’ origins, culture, and character (Hist. 5.1–6, esp. 2). Because the revolt against Rome was taken to be the expression of a rebellious and misanthropic nature, Josephus understood his task in similar terms but from the other side: to furnish a more accurate picture of that national character, along with a better explanation of the war’s origins and outcome. It is curious that Josephus should begin his account of the war in 66–73 c.e. with the Hasmonean revolt 250 years earlier, following that with a detailed portrait of King Herod (40–4 b.c.e.) and Archelaus (1.31–2.116). his is all the stranger because he then glides over the three decades from 4 b.c.e. to the mid20s c.e. with almost no material. Among the many reasons one might adduce for this interest in Hasmoneans and Herods (beyond the formal justiication in War 1.17–18) we should include the following. he Hasmonean story, remembered annually at Hanukkah, had provided inspiration for those dreaming of independence from Rome in the recent war.9 Himself cherishing roots in the 7 E.g., Aristotle, Rhet. 1.2.1–15.1356a; 2.1.2–3.1377b; Cicero, De or. 2.182; Quintilian, Inst. 5.12.10; Aulus Gellius, Noct. att. 4.18.3–5; J. M. May, Trials of Character: he Eloquence of Ciceronian Ethos (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina, 1988), 6–8; G. A. Kennedy, A New History of Classical Rhetoric (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 102–27. 8 Along with known works by Herodotus, Hecataeus, and Strabo (among many), note Plutarch (Mor. 799b–800a) on the distinctive character of each polis, and Quintus Curtius (8.9.20) on the environment and character of India and its inhabitants. For the classical grounding of this conception see Plato, Resp. 544d–591; W. Jaeger Paideia: he Ideals of Greek Culture (3 vols. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1973), 2:320–47; B. H. Isaac, he Invention of Racism in Classical Antiquity (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004), 56–74. 9 W. R. Farmer, Maccabees, Zealots, and Josephus; An Inquiry into Jewish Nationalism in the Greco-Roman Period (Westport: Greenwood, 1956); Martin Hengel, he Zealots: Investigations into the Jewish Freedom Movement in the Period from Herod I until Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 189 Hasmonean-priestly dynasty (War 5.419; Ant. 16.187; Life 1–6), Josephus retells the story so as to argue that the Hasmoneans actually created a Judean state only in alliance with the superpower Rome (War 1.38). herefore, their storied and paradigmatic “freedom” was astute, but never absolute. In Josephus’s narrative the Hasmoneans and King Herod (also Herod’s father Antipater) demonstrate rather the diplomatic skills that the author attributes to members of the elite such as himself: a remarkable adaptability in making alliances as needed with almost anyone (e.g., various Seleucid pretenders or the successive strongmen of the Roman civil wars), for the welfare of the Judean state. Given that world powers come and go under inscrutable divine providence, as Jeremiah and Daniel had understood long before, this was the only feasible way of life for peoples such as the Judeans.10 As it happens, Josephus’s approach intersected well with contemporary political relection among other elites in the eastern Mediterranean.11 Further, because the government of the Hasmoneans and then Herod saw the concentration of political power in one person, their cases brought to light the very problem that plagued all monarchies and Rome herself since the rise of dictators in the irst century b.c.e., and especially since Augustus had carefully developed a de facto monarchy: if one person is entrusted with supreme power, how to secure a peaceful succession? What do we do for an encore? John Hyrcanus, though a successful and beneicent administrator, foresaw that his less pious and less fortunate sons would quickly trigger the downfall of the dynasty (War 1.68–9). In a similar vein, although Herod’s reign was consumed by the making and canceling of wills, when he died in 4 b.c.e. the succession saga dragged on at great length in the hands of Augustus—whose own problems in inding and keeping an heir were notorious12 (2.1–116). he problem of monarchy and its Achilles-heel, succession, will become a still more prominent issue in Antiquities.13 In War, this issue is tied up closely with the work’s central questions of political “freedom” and governance.14 he whole project of the so-called tyrants, who will seize the revolt from the nation’s aristocracy, is allegedly based on the monarchical principle: each one seeks to be supreme ruler for the basest of reasons, with no genuine concern for the welfare of the nation, no training in or understanding of governance, and no provision for the sequel.15 70 a.d. (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1989), 149–55, 171–73 (a history of scholarship on the question), 377. 10 D. Daube, “Typology in Josephus,” JJS 31 (1980): 18–36; S. J. D. Cohen, “Masada, Literary Traditions, Archaeological Remains, and the Credibility of Josephus.” JJS 33 (1982): 385–405; Mason, “Daniel.” 11 G. W. Bowersock, Greek Sophists in the Roman Empire (Oxford: Clarendon, 1969); E. L. Bowie, “he Greeks”; Eckstein, “Josephus and Polybius”; idem., Moral Vision; Swain, Hellenism; S. Goldhill, Being Greek under Rome: Cultural Identity, the Second Sophistic, and the Development of Empire (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001). 12 Syme, Revolution, 415, 419–39; W. Eck, he Age of Augustus (Oxford: Blackwell, 2003), 113–25. 13 S. Mason, “Reading on and between the Lines.” 14 See ch. 3 in the present volume. 15 E.g., War 2.443, 264; 4.177–178, 273–279, 397; 5.18–19, 363; 6.102. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 190 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA We irst meet the Pharisees of War when the Hasmonean dynasty is already well into its downward spiral, following the death of Hyrcanus I. his degeneration began with Aristobulus I, who assumed the diadem and thus transformed the state into a monarchy (War 1.70; 104–103 b.c.e.). In keeping with this tyrannical turn, he lost no time in murdering family members (1.71–84). His brother Alexander Janneus had a much longer and in some respects successful reign (103–76 b.c.e.), but it too was marred by tyranny (1.97). Josephus remarks that although Alexander seemed (doje²m) to be moderate (1.85), he faced a mass rebellion of the people, which he put down brutally by killing some 50,000 of them (1.91). When Alexander died, his wife Alexandra assumed the throne as queen. She was a ray of hope for the dynasty because she utterly lacked her husband’s brutality (the narrator authoritatively reports): she not only had a reputation for piety (dËnam eÕsebeÊar); she really was a precise observer of the laws (1.108). his piety, however, was also her downfall, for it caused her to give far too much power to the Pharisees, whom Josephus now introduces as a group with a reputation for, or image of (doje²m), precision in the laws (1.110). Josephus describes their relation to the queen with a striking verb, normally used of plants growing from the same root: the Pharisees grow alongside (paqavÌomtai) Alexandra and encroach on her authority parasitically. Indeed, the Pharisees become the de facto government in many respects, exploiting the queen’s naïveté to settle their own scores: they arrange for their enemies to be bound and banished, their friends to be recalled and liberated. Josephus remarks that whereas Alexandra bore all the costs of rule, the Pharisees enjoyed the real authority behind her protective screen (1.112). Although they were not mentioned in the Alexander narrative, they are evidently on the side of those who opposed Alexander, for they take revenge on the late king’s advisors and friends; therefore, the eminent and distinguished classes (would Josephus locate his kind of people here?) have the most to fear from their revenge (1.113– 114). Whereas Alexandra succeeded in controlling neighboring nations through shrewd military planning, Josephus opines, the Pharisees controlled her (1.112). his account of Alexandra and the Pharisees moves the narrative along by ofering an explanation for the continuing decline of the Hasmonean house. Ater the deep wounds inlicted on the body politic by Alexander, yet before the dynasty reaches its nadir in the rivalry between Alexandra’s sons Hyrcanus II and Aristobulus II (which ushers in Roman rule), the potential of this just and pious queen to turn things around is undercut by her alliance with vindictive and aggressive Pharisees. More speciically, the passage carries forward a number of key Josephan themes. Chief among these is the contrast between seeming and being, reputation and truth, illusion and reality, names or titles and actual authority. his sort of dialectic is Josephus’s métier.16 Just as the historical man lived and wrote in a 16 Cf. Plato’s programmatic distinction between the world of appearances, senseperception, and opinion, on the one hand, and knowledge and the real on the other (Resp. 514a–517c). In Josephus’s War, Hyrcanus II’s mischievous courtiers complain that he has Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 191 world of “doublespeak,” dissonance, irony, and indirection in imperial Rome, so Josephus the writer oten has his characters (including himself) say things that the audience knows to be either completely or substantially false. It is a world of unsettling and constant double games, where nothing is what it appears to be. In Josephus, as in Tacitus, we see vividly the “rhetoricized mentality” fostered by Greco-Roman education for elite males.17 In the story of Queen Alexandra, the image-reality dialectic is everywhere at work. Her husband had given the impression of moderation, but this turned out not to be the reality. She really was moderate and pious, but this led her to mistakenly yield power to the seemingly moderate Pharisees. heir invitation to power allowed the Pharisees, in turn, to assume the real authority of the state, leaving her the outward shell and title. Other characteristic language of Josephus has to do with “precision” (ÐjqÊbeia), or apparent precision, in interpreting the laws. He will return to the Pharisees’ reputation for legal precision in several places, even in his autobiography when describing Simon son of Gamaliel.18 Although it was long conventional for scholars to relieve Josephus of responsibility for hostile attitudes toward the Pharisees by attributing them to his (undigested) sources,19 these connections of language and perspective preclude such maneuvers. Indeed, we already see here one likely reason for Josephus’s hostility toward the group: himself a member of the priestly elite, which has been charged with preserving and interpreting the Judean laws ever since the time of Moses (see notes 30 and 51 below), the sudden rise to power of a popular and populist group, whose members lack the aristocratic culture that creates elite statesmen and who undertake to rid the state of their aristocratic enemies, could not but attract his ire. his debut of the Pharisees in Josephus’s narratives, which is also their fullest scene in War, is at best inauspicious. heir two leeting appearances in the later story conirm their ongoing inluence with the people, but our author is not interested in exploring this phenomenon for his audience. In War, King Herod is mainly a virtuous igure: a tough, proud, generous, and wily Judean who constantly shows other nations what his people can do in military and diplomatic spheres alike. He is plagued by succession worries, however, and his downfall is attributed by Josephus to the women in his life (1.431, 568). It is in the latter half of the Herod story, which explores his domestic woes, that the Pharisees turn up as agents provocateurs. Josephus as narrator plainly disapproves of Herod’s sister-in-law, the unnamed wife of Pheroras, who behaves only the title (ômola) and not the authority (ÑnousÊa) of king (1.209). Later (1.561), Antipater pleads with his father not to leave him the mere title of king while others hold the real power. At 2.208, princeps-designate Claudius promises through Agrippa I that he will rest content with honor of the title or address (pqosgcoqÊa) while governing in fact through senatorial consultation. More generally on reputations or seeming in contrast to being: War 1.648; Ant. 17.41; 19; 332; Ag. Ap. 1.18, 67; Cassius Dio 36.11. 17 Rudich, Political Dissidence; idem., Dissidence and Literature; Bartsch, Actors. 18 War 2.162; Ant. 17.41; Life 191; cf. Mason, Josephus on the Pharisees, 89–113. 19 Hölscher, “Josephus”; Schwartz, “Josephus and Nicolaus”; Sanders, Practice and Belief, 390. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 192 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA insolently in public and conspires to turn the king’s son Antipater against him (1.568–570). At a hearing of Herod’s consilium, one of the charges brought against the woman is that she has “furnished rewards to the Pharisees for opposing him” (1.571). We should like to know much more, and Antiquities (below) develops the story, but here in War Josephus is not interested in explaining further; he merely cites this among several examples of the woman’s alleged impudence. As for the Pharisees, who played such a large role in Alexandra’s reign, it is clear only that they remain a signiicant presence and a source of trouble for Herod. Although we might expect Josephus to admire those who oppose kings, given his stated preference for aristocratic rule, his narrative is much more textured than such simple dichotomies would require. he Pharisees can oppose eminent citizens as well as kings, and in this case are allied with a troublesome woman; they do not seem to be Josephus’s kind of people. In War 2 Josephus mentions the Pharisees twice: irst in the philosophicalschools passage that features the Essenes (War 2.119–166), which we shall consider contextually in the following chapter; second, in a brief notice about the constituency of the leading citizens at the outbreak of the revolt. Seventy years have passed in real time since the death of King Herod in 4 b.c.e.—Josephus does not, however, write in chronological proportion—and a lot has happened. Under the deteriorating maladministration of the later equestrian governors sent by Nero, predictable tensions threaten to explode in violence and civil war, while members of the elite struggle to keep a lid on things in order to avoid Roman intervention. A series of riots induces Queen Berenice and her brother King Agrippa II to try oratory, the ancient statesman’s best friend, in order to calm the masses; but this ultimately fails (War 2.342–407). Some younger aristocrats, led by the temple commander, insist on suspending all sacriices by foreigners and the daily sacriice for Rome and its princeps (2.409–410). his deiant action advances the movement to war. At this point Josephus remarks (War 2.411) that “ ‘the elite’ [or ‘the principal men/the powerful’: oÚ dumatoÊ] came together in the same place (eÓr taÕtË) with the chief priests (to²r ÐqwieqeÌsim) and those who were eminent among the Pharisees (jaà to²r t´m VaqisaÊym cmyqÊloir),” to discuss the brewing crisis. Brief though it is, the itemization is suggestive: the principal men or aristocrats, based in the priesthood and so naturally accompanied by the super-elite chief priests, are now also joined by the most prominent men of the Pharisees. Elsewhere, Josephus almost formulaically pairs the elite (oÚ dumatoÊ or similar) with the chief priests as Jerusalem’s leaders (2.243, 301, 316, 336, 422, 428, 648), without mentioning the Pharisees. In one other place he adds to this formula (oÚ te Ðqwieqe²r jaà dumatoÊ) a vague third term, “and the most eminent [stratum] of the city” (tË te cmyqilÍtatom t±r pËkeyr) (2.301). If leading Pharisees were in his mind as he wrote that, however, he chose not to burden his audience with this information. So the notice at 2.411, that the standard pair of priestly elite groups met with the leading Pharisees at that crucial point, seeming to stress that they also convened in the same place, hints that such a coalition was unusual in more normal times—necessitated here, we infer, by the emergency. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 193 Although we later learn that it was quite possible to belong to the priestly caste and be a Pharisee (Life 197–198), membership in the Pharisees being a voluntary ailiation, members of the hereditary priestly aristocracy needed no school ailiation to give them status, and many apparently had none. It was by deinition the elite class, comparable to other aristocracies in the Greek cities of the eastern empire, to which the Roman governors turned (or were supposed to turn) for collaboration in administering the province.20 Inclusion of the Pharisees’ leading representatives in this emergency council thus appears to be a diplomatic necessity, part of the elite’s efort to calm the masses. Such a conclusion anticipates what will be spelled out in Antiquities (13.297–298; 18.15, 17) that the Pharisees had avenues of access to the masses that the priestly aristocracy as a body lacked. Josephus’s irst known work does not, then, give the Pharisees much play. And yet the author’s disdain seems clear. He gives the impression of mentioning them only when he must in order to tell his story, while leaving many obvious questions unanswered. What exactly was their social status and composition? Who were their leaders? How did they acquire such powerful enemies, whom they purged under Alexandra? Why were they so popular among the masses, and such a threat to Herod? How did they acquire their reputation for piety and careful observance if they were so politically cunning (as Josephus claims)? Recounting Herod’s inal days, Josephus describes a popular uprising led by two inluential “sophists,” who also had a reputation for precision in the ancestral traditions (dojo³mter Ðjqibo³mta tÀ pÇtqia) and consequently enjoyed a reputation of the highest esteem among the whole nation; they were personally courageous in defending the laws against Herod’s clear violation—placing a golden eagle atop the sanctuary (1.648–650; 2.5–6). Although Josephus’s characterization leads those of us with concordances to suspect that he understood the popular teachers to have been Pharisees,21 he again fails to convey any such connection to his Roman audience (who therefore could not have known it). He will not include moral courage among the traits of his Pharisees. A similar case concerns two leaders of the people whom Josephus admires for their indignation against the Zealots’ atrocities, and their opposition to the Zealots’ appointment of an illegitimate high priest (4.159–160): For those among them [sc. Û d±lor] with a reputation for excelling (oÚ pqoÌweim aÕt´m dojo³mter), 22 Gorion son of Joseph and Symeon son of Gamaliel, kept exhorting both the gathered assemblies and each individual in private consultation that it was time to exact vengeance from the wreckers of freedom and to purge those who were polluting the sanctuary; the most eminent of the chief priests, Jesus son of Gamalas and Ananus son of Ananus, while castigating the populace for lethargy, in the meetings, roused them against the Zealots. 20 D. C. Braund, “Cohors: he Governor and His Entourage in the Self-Image of the Roman Republic” in Cultural Identity in the Roman Empire (ed. R. Laurence and J. Berry; London: Routledge, 1998), 10–24; Meyer-Zwifelhofer, pokitij´r ðqweim. 21 So, e.g., Sanders, Practice and Belief, 385. 22 his is favorite, formulaic language in Josephus. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 194 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA his cooperative venture is presented in an intriguing manner: some very popular teachers, with rhetorical skill and special access to individuals as well as groups, join the chief priests in trying to calm the masses. One of the two men named is none other than Simon son of Gamaliel, whom Josephus will describe in a later work as a leading Pharisee (Life 190–191), and his illustrious family is well known from other sources (Acts 5:34; 22:3; m. Sotah 9.15 et passim). Josephus must have known that Simon was a Pharisee, but again he chose not to reveal this to his audience—just where he is praising the man’s behavior without demurral. When he later decides to label Simon a Pharisee, in the Life, the context will be very diferent and harshly critical (see below). hus, Pharisees hardly appear in Josephus’s War, though for the historian they have a tantalizing presence behind the scenes. A dispassionate observer might have related much more than Josephus does: he seems to forego every opportunity to say more than is required for a coherent story, in which the Pharisees feature mainly for their negative (anti-royal, anti-aristocratic) traits. Although War is illed with digressions of various kinds (note especially the lengthy celebration of the Essenes in 2.119–161, as also the topographical and geographical excursuses), the Pharisees are not a group on which he cares to lavish attention. What he chooses to disclose about them to his audience is rather one-sided and derogatory: they latch on to the powerful in order to cause trouble for the nation, though their inluence must be reckoned with. In Judean Antiquities Whereas War, written in the darkest days of post-war Rome, tried to portray the admirable Judean character in and through an account of the war’s origin and course, Josephus’s magnum opus, published about iteen years later (93/94 c.e.; cf. Ant. 20.267), takes advantage of the additional time and space to explore Judean culture on a larger canvas, in particular the constitution (pokiteÊa) of the Judean people (1.5, 10).23 A nation’s mode of governance was generally considered an expression of its character: people get the constitution they deserve.24 his axiom stood in some tension with the recognition that constitutions change over time, from monarchy to aristocracy or oligarchy to some form of “democracy” and back again, as also with discussions of the optimal constitution,25 which presupposed that peoples had an element of choice in their mode of governance. Rome itself had famously emerged from ancient kingship through the “mixed constitution” of the Republic to the current principate—a de facto monarchy, 23 Note the prominence of constitution language in strategic places: Ant. 3.84, 213; 4.45, 184, 191, 193–195, 196–198, 302, 310, 312; 5.98, 179; 15.254, 281; 18.9; 20.229, 251, 261; Ag. Ap. 2.188, 222, 226, 272–273. At Ag. Ap. 2.287 Josephus recalls that he wrote Antiquities in order to give “an exact account of our laws and constitution.” 24 Plato, Resp. 544d–91; Jaeger, Paideia, 2:320–47. 25 Famously, the sixth book of Polybius’s History. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 195 though crucially not yet called kingship in Rome itself. Although Roman authors seem to have largely given up the sort of abstract constitutional discussions that Herodotus, Plato, Aristotle, and Polybius had indulged (but note Cicero’s Republic and Laws), Josephus’s younger contemporary Tacitus reveals the ongoing concern in elite circles with relations between a princeps (or emperor) and an aristocratic Senate.26 All tied up in that discussion was the question of true Roman character. Contemporary Greek writers also devoted considerable attention to the problem of local constitutions and aristocracies in the context of a Roman super-power.27 In his Antiquities as in his War, Josephus shows himself fully aware of such questions (e.g., what sort of “freedom” should nations desire—untrammeled or conditioned by political necessity?), which had become pressing among Roman and Greek elites, especially in the waning years of Domitian’s reign, when Josephus was writing. His detailed portrait of the Judean constitution and the vicissitudes through which it had passed reveals abundant parallels with the Roman experience, which have been examined in detail elsewhere.28 Crucially, both nations decisively reject kingship, as the inevitable precursor of tyranny, and Josephus is vocal in his insistence that the Judean constitution is aristocraticsenatorial.29 he nation is properly run, its ancient laws preserved and rightly administered, by people like his good self: the hereditary priests, who have always constituted—already in the time of Moses and Joshua!—the governing council or Senate (boukÉ, ceqousÊa).30 he essay known as Against Apion (2.145–196) will develop in moving, idealized terms this image of a hereditary priestly college under the orchestration of the high priest, as the most sublime form of constitution imaginable. In Antiquities, which assumes the obligations of history-writing, the picture is messier than in the Against Apion. Ater the principle of aristocratic governance has been enunciated by Moses and his successors, the masses nonetheless clamor for a king (Ant. 6.33–4). It was widely acknowledged in Josephus’s day that the masses of all nations preferred powerful monarchs—even if these vaulted to power through bloody coups—to the vagaries, corruptions, and ineiciencies of aristocratic bodies.31 Kings tended to be more solicitous of their popular base: it was much easier to keep the tiny aristocracy in check than to deal with overwhelming popular animosity. So, although Josephus’s Samuel forcefully advocates aristocracy (Ant. 6.36), he must yield to popular demands, and the era of 26 R. Syme, Tacitus (2 vols; Oxford: Clarendon, 1958), 408–34; B. Otis “he Uniqueness of Latin Literature.” Arion 6 (1967): 199; R. Mellor Tacitus (London: Routledge, 1993), 87–112. 27 See note 11 above. 28 E.g., Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4 (both his detailed commentary and my introductory essay in that volume). 29 Ant. 4.223; 5.135; cf. Mason, “Reading on and between the Lines.” 30 Ant. 4.186, 218, 220, 255, 256, 325; 5.15, 43, 55. For the priestly core of this senatorial aristocracy, see Ant. 3.188; 4.304; Life 1; Ag. Ap. 1.29–37; 2.184–86. 31 E.g., Cicero, Rep. 2.12.23; Livy 1.17.3. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 196 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA kings, with its inevitable decline into tyranny, begins (6.262–268). he destruction of the irst temple and with it the monarchy of Judah clears the way for a new aristocracy (11.111), but this is undone by the later Hasmoneans (13.300), who once again assume the diadem and quickly lead the nation to disaster. Roman intervention restores the aristocracy yet again (14.91), though this gives way to the Herodian monarchy—as a function of the Roman civil wars, which featured their own (Roman) contenders for supreme power. In the symmetrical structure of Antiquities, the two great king-tyrants of Judean history, Saul (book 6) and Herod (15–17), occupy corresponding positions. Josephus devotes a surprising amount of Antiquities’ inal quarter to parallel constitutional crises: the Judean problem of inding a successor to King Herod and the Roman succession woes following Tiberius and Gaius Caligula.32 For the Judeans, ater the debacle of Herod’s son Archelaus, matters are resolved for some decades when a native aristocracy (including our author) is allowed to govern Jerusalem under the remote supervision of a respectable, senior-senatorial Roman legate based in Syria, to which province Judea is joined (17.227, 355; 18.1–3; contrast War 2.117). his arrangement preserves Judea’s native traditions and collective local leadership while at the same time securing the people’s freedom—i.e., freedom from native tyrants. When Antiquities closes, however, this arrangement is beginning to unravel with the irst rumblings of civil strife (e.g., 20.205–214), which War has described in detail. he Roman constitutional crisis, for its part, is never resolved, leaving open the possibility that Antiquities functions in part as a critique of Rome’s increasingly monarchical governance at Josephus’s time.33 Because some of the Pharisee passages of Antiquities develop items mentioned briely in War, we need to bear in mind that Josephus frequently recounts in Antiquities 13–20 and Life stories already told in War 1–2. In virtually every case of overlap, however, the retelling is markedly diferent. He is a zealous practitioner of what ancient rhetoricians called paraphrasis or metaphrasis (paqÇvqasir, letÇvqasir)—changing the form of expression while retaining the thoughts (heon, Prog. 62–4, 107–110; Quintilian, Inst. 1.9.2; 10.5.4–11)—and he certainly pushes the limits of “retaining the same thoughts.” Changes run from the trivial to the comprehensive: dates, relative chronology, locations, dramatis personae and their motives, details of scene, and numbers.34 Given Josephus’s demonstrable freedom in retelling stories, and in view of parallel phenomena in other contemporary literature from the Gospels to Plutarch,35 eforts to explain such changes programmatically—with reference to putative shits of historiographical outlook, religious ailiation, moral convictions, personal allegiances, or political necessity36—seem a waste of scholarly energy. If Josephus changes more or less 32 Wiseman, Death of an Emperor, 1991. Mason, “Reading on and between the Lines”; see also ch. 3 in the present volume. 34 hese parallels are explored in great detail by Laqueur (Historiker) and Cohen (Galilee and Rome). For a comparative table illustrating the degree of diference between War and he Life, see Appendix C in Mason, Life of Josephus. 35 E.g., Pelling, Greek Historian. 36 Programmatically, Laqueur, Historiker; Rasp, “Flavius Josephus.” 33 Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 197 every story that he retells, we have more to do with the rhetoricized mentality mentioned above than with a new ideological program.37 He seems to abhor the prospect of boring his audience, at least by retelling stories verbatim, and so he experiments with new literary and rhetorical conigurations, careless of the historical casualties. Typical of such changes is our irst encounter with the Pharisees in Antiquities, in a brief statement about the three schools’ views on fate (13.171–173). Even this concise presentation is irreconcilable with the sketch of the schools’ positions on fate in War 2.162–166, though he refers the audience to the earlier work for details (see the following chapter). In assessing the role of Pharisees in Antiquities, we must again maintain some narrative perspective. hey do not igure in the main part of the work (books 1–12), which outlines the origins of the aristocratic constitution, its contents, and early changes. his absence cannot be merely a function of chronology—i.e., because there were no Pharisees in the time of Moses or Saul—for Josephus does not hesitate to mention other current issues or igures in the course of his biblical paraphrase (e.g., 1.94, 108, 151; 4.146, 161; 7.101; 8.46). If he had any interest in doing so, he might well have extolled the Pharisees’ legal tradition, or at least mentioned it, while elaborating upon Moses’s laws and constitution, which he elaborates precisely because they form the living code by which Judeans of his day govern their lives. His failure to mention Pharisees or the other schools in the core of Antiquities is noteworthy. Ater the brief philosophical aside of Antiquities 13.171–173 just mentioned, the Pharisees next appear in connection with the greatest crisis in the Hasmonean dynasty: the transition from the illustrious period of “senatorial” self-rule, led by the virtuous hero and high priest John Hyrcanus, to the destructive monarchycum-tyranny initiated by his short-lived and tragically self-absorbed son, Aristobulus I (13.301). Like War, Antiquities presents Hyrcanus I as the Hasmonean ruler most favored by God, the apogee of the glorious family (13.300). Following a detailed account of his exploits (e.g., successful manipulation of Seleucid rivals, Judaization of Idumea, renewed treaty with Rome, destruction of Samaria), Josephus tells a story with no parallel in War, but which helps to explain the mysterious “growth” of the Pharisees alongside Queen Alexandra in War, as well as the Pharisees’ behavior toward Alexander’s friends as recounted in the earlier work. Yet the new episode has a ripple efect on the whole Hasmonean story, changing its contours in signiicant ways. he scene is a banquet, to which Hyrcanus invites “the Pharisees” (all of them?) because, our author notes, the virtuous high priest was one of their students (13.289). Because they “practiced philosophy” (see chapter 2), and because he wished to live a just life, which training in philosophy should produce, he invited them to ofer criticism of anything untoward in his behavior (13.290). hey all praised his conduct, but a certain Eleazar, also present at the dinner, boldly demanded that he relinquish the high priesthood on the ground—a false rumor, 37 562545 Further Mason, Life of Josephus, xxxvii–xli. Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 198 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA Josephus claims—that his mother had been a captive, and so presumably raped (13.290–292). At this, all the Pharisees become indignant (13.292). Josephus does not say that Eleazar was a Pharisee, and we soon learn that non-Pharisees were also present. For certain Sadducees in attendance cleverly exploit this opportunity by asking the Pharisees what punishment they deem suitable for the ofending man. When the Pharisees call for (merely) severe corporal punishment—lashes and chains, rather than death (Josephus notes editorially that the Pharisees by nature take a moderate position in relation to punishments [vÌsei pqÄr tÀr jokÇseir Ñpieij´r ñwousim, 13.294])—the Sadducees are able to convince Hyrcanus that their rivals approved of the man’s outburst, in spite of what our narrator plainly says. he Sadducees’ device for proving this, asking the Pharisees how they would punish Eleazar’s outburst, ater their unanimous condemnation of his words, appears to conirm that Eleazar was not one of their school. In any case, the Sadducees’ gambit is successful and leads the prince to abandon his ailiation with the Pharisees. His new embrace of the Sadducees is dramatic: it results in his “dissolving the legal precepts established by [the Pharisees] among the populace” (tÀ te Üp’ aÕtÄm jatastahÈmta mËlila t´m d±lym jatakÌsai) and punishing those who continued to observe them (13.296). his radical turn sets of a public uproar. A Roman audience might reasonably wonder what practical diference the change would make, and so Josephus hastens to explain that the Pharisees follow a special set of legal prescriptions (mËlila) “from a succession of fathers” (Ñj patÈqym diadow±r) in addition to the laws of Moses—the latter being famously followed by all Judeans; the preceding narrative of Antiquities 1–12 has explored this common constitution. his supplementary legal tradition is rejected by the Sadducees, who recognize only the “inscribed” laws (of Moses). Although this passage has been adduced as evidence for the rabbinic doctrine of hp l[bç hrwt or “Oral Law,”38 Josephus does not mention such a thing. He irst characterizes the Pharisees’ special ordinances as “not written in the laws of Moses” (çpeq oÕj ÐmacÈcqaptai Ñm to²r LyusÈor mËloir), attributing them rather to a succession of fathers. Although the following phrase, describing the Sadducees’ view (viz., “it is necessary to respect only those ordinances that are inscribed,” Ñje²ma mËlila de²m Ùce²shai tÀ cecqallÈma), might appear to suggest an oral law, if it were wrenched from its context, in context it plainly assumes the qualiication in the preceding part of the sentence: the laws of Moses are contrasted not with oral laws, but with laws “from a tradition of the fathers.”39 he Sadducees reject the Pharisees’ tradition not because no one thought to write it down somewhere, but because it is not part of Moses’s constitution, which has been elaborated at great length. Josephus has never mentioned such a special tradition before, and he will not do so again outside of Antiquities 18.12 (recalling 38 J. M. Baumgarten “he unwritten Law in the Pre-Rabbinic Period,” JSJ 3 (1972), 12–14; E. Rivkin, A Hidden Revolution (Nashville: Abingdon, 1978), 41–42. 39 So Neusner, he Rabbinic Traditions About the Pharisees Before 70 (3 vols.; Leiden: Brill, 1971), 2:163; Mason, Josephus on the Pharisees, 240–43. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 199 this passage in a later description of the Pharisees). When he speaks elsewhere of “the ancestral customs or laws” (oÚ mËloi, tÀ mËlila, tÀ pÇtqia ñhg/mËlila), as he frequently does, he plainly means the laws followed by all Judeans, given by the lawgiver Moses, which he compares and contrasts to the laws of other nations.40 In this explanatory gloss on the Pharisees’ tradition from “a succession of fathers,” Josephus also makes explicit what the audience might already have inferred from his brief notices on Pharisees in War: whereas the Sadducean base is tiny and found only among the elite, the Pharisees have the support of the masses (13.298). his point will turn up repeatedly in the few lines devoted to Pharisees in the sequel. If Josephus wishes to leave any image of the Pharisees with his audience, it is that they have massive popular access, support, and inluence. Hyrcanus’s break with the Pharisees and Josephus’s explanation about their inluence receive space at this juncture, apparently, because they are programmatic for the balance of the Hasmonean story. his rit was not merely a personal one: it had ramiications for the constitution of the state because it meant the dissolution of the Pharisaic jurisprudence that had been in place throughout Hyrcanus’s reign. Although Josephus does not pause to explain why Pharisees were so popular, or the nature of their legal precepts, he does drop an important hint in the banquet story: their penal code was milder. He will conirm this point in a later note to the efect that Ananus II, the high priest who executed Jesus’s brother James, was a Sadducee and therefore “savage” in punishment (Ant. 20.199). A brief historical relection may illuminate Josephus’s biases. At face value, biblical law seems raw, unsystematic, and potentially severe. he various apodictic and casuistic declarations throughout the Pentateuch ofer little by way of a real jurisprudence: rights of the accused, a system of courts, principles of advocacy, or procedures for hearing and sentencing.41 Any self-consciously interpretative tradition, therefore, simply as a function of articulating general legal principles and procedures of prosecution and defense—e.g., that a certain number of judges must hear cases, with advocates for the accused—would tend to mitigate the Law’s potential severity. Perusal of the Mishnah tractate Sanhedrin, which relects one kind of elaboration, suggests that few accused persons could face capital punishment under its provisions. he school of Hillel, represented in the irst century by Rabban Gamaliel and his son Simon, is particularly associated with leniency.42 Without assuming any identiication between Pharisees and tannaitic rabbis, we may still observe that Josephus’s remarks on the leniency of Pharisaic jurisprudence 40 Ibid., 96–106. he Bible requires execution by an “avenger of blood” not only for murder, idolatry, and blasphemy, but also for cursing parents (Exod 21:17; Lev 20:9), owning an animal that gores a person to death (if the animal has also harmed others, Exod 21:29), being a medium or wizard (Lev 20:27), violating the Sabbath (Exod 31:14–15; 35:2), kidnapping (Exod 21:16), and adultery (Lev 20:10). On corporal punishment (for unspeciied ofenses), see Deut 25:2–3. 42 E.g., m. Rosh HaShanah 2.5; m. Yevamot 16.7. 41 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 200 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA seem antecedently plausible.43 Anyone who wished to live by the Law had necessarily to interpret it, to resolve its various prescriptions in some way.44 If the Sadducees took a deliberately minimalist approach, rejecting any explicit body of authoritative legal principle or case law, claiming to observe only what the Law speciied, it stands to reason that their interpretations would be more severe. If so, it is telling that our aristocratic reporter has no interest in explaining the popular Pharisees’ legal principles, much less in embracing or celebrating them. But why would the Sadducees prescind so pointedly from the Pharisees’ tradition, or apparently any other body of ordinances not in the laws? And how might Josephus’s audiences have understood this diference? In pre-modern societies—recall even Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities—it was inevitably the poor who faced the full force of severe laws. Aristocrats might worry with cause about committing political ofenses, but they were largely immune from the legal cares of the masses because of their social position, connections, and presumed noble character. hey were not likely to be accused of thet or assault. In Rome, the position of city prefect (praefectus urbis) was created under Augustus mainly to deal with the petty crimes of slaves and freedmen, not the nobles.45 he elite author Josephus himself claims to favor severity in law, even celebrating this as a virtue of the Judean constitution in contrast to the ever-sotening codes of other peoples: whereas others wiggle out of their laws’ ancient demands, Judean law still exacts the death penalty for adultery and rebellious children (Ant. 1.22; 4.244–253; 4.260–264; Ag. Ap. 2.276). It is understandable that in such contexts the masses would favor the party with the more lenient penal code, but the aristocrat Josephus takes a typically piteous view of the masses: the rabble or the mob, who are ickle and vulnerable to persuasion by almost anyone.46 He explains only, and rather dryly, that Hyrcanus’s break with the Pharisees and his dissolution of their jurisprudence resulted in popular opposition to the Hasmonean dynasty. His disdain for the Pharisees, no matter how popular they may be (or because of a popularity he considers unfortunate), becomes obvious in the way he frames the story of their rupture with Hyrcanus. he episode itself, which is borrowed from oral or written tradition,47 seems neutral or sympathetic toward the 43 For a thorough examination of the humane character of Pharisaic jurisprudence, argued on the basis of rabbinic halakhah, see famously L. Finkelstein, he Pharisees: he Sociological Background of heir Faith (2 vols.; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1938). 44 On the need for everyone who wished to live by the Bible to ill its “gaps,” and for a fascinating exposition of Pharisaic and other tradition in the context of rapidly growing literacy from the Hasmonean period, see A. I. Baumgarten, he Flourishing of Jewish Sects in the Maccabean Era: An Interpretation (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 114–36. 45 Eck, Age of Augustus, 79. From the early third century c.e. Roman law would formalize the long-evident legal distinction between the mass of free citizens (humiliores) and the privileged (honestiores). 46 E.g., War 2.234, 259–260, 321–332, 399, 406, 411–417, 427, 523–526; 5.527–528; Ant. 1.115; 3.24–27, 68–69, 295–315; 4.37; 19.202; cf. Polybius 6.9.8–9; 44.9; Cicero, Rep. 1.42.65; Tacitus, Hist. 1.4, 32. 47 Mason, Josephus on the Pharisees, 219; cf. the similar story told of Janneus in b. Qidd. 66a. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 201 Pharisees. It leaves the ailiation of the troublemaker Eleazar uncertain, while emphasizing that the Pharisees as a group praise John’s conduct, and all of them (pÇmter) condemn Eleazar for his impertinence (13.292). It is the Sadducees who mischievously implicate all Pharisees in Eleazar’s views (13.293). On the basis of the account itself, therefore, it makes little sense for Josephus to blame the Pharisees. Yet he chooses to introduce the episode with a remarkable indictment: popular envy of the Hasmoneans’s success was expressed through the Pharisees in particular; they were especially hostile to him, and “they have such inluence with the rabble [note present tense] that even if they say something against a king and a high priest, they are immediately trusted” (tosaÌtgm dÁ ñwousi tÂm ÓswÌm paqÀ t© pkÉhei Ýr jaà jatÀ basikÈyr ti kÈcomter jaà jat’ ÐqwieqÈyr eÕhÌr pisteÌeshai; 13.288). he animus of our aristocratic author apparently leads him to stretch his material out of shape. Since he will use very similar language when characterizing the Pharisees in later episodes, he seems to have an idée ixe concerning the group—no matter what the evidence he can adduce. Although Pharisees do not appear by name in Josephus’s account of Alexander Janneus’s actions (as also in War), the king’s deathbed scene in Antiquities clariies for the irst time that much popular resentment toward him has been generated by this popular group: Alexander realized that “he had collided with the nation because of these men” (13.402). If we read the Hasmonean narrative as a unity, this makes sense. he Pharisees and their legal system have been repudiated by Hyrcanus I, so that under Aristobulus I and Janneus the milder and more popular legal regimen has remained outlawed. his has been a factor in the masses’ hatred for Janneus, to which the king has responded with extreme brutality. Only by such a coherent reading can we explain why Janneus now advises his wife, who is terriied at the volume of popular hatred she is about to inherit, to grant power once again to the Pharisees—in an ostentatious manner. Invite them even to abuse my corpse, the wily politician declares, for all they really desire is power, and if you give them this they will immediately turn sycophant and allow me a grand funeral (13.403)! his hard-headed appraisal of “those reputed to be the most pious and most scrupulous about the laws” is patently disparaging, and yet Josephus as narrator does nothing to ameliorate it. On the contrary, Janneus’s cynical prediction is borne out by the story: invited to share power with the widow Queen, the Pharisees give her husband a magniicent send-of, proclaiming what a just or righteous (dÊjaior) king they have lost, and exploiting their demagogic talents to move the masses to mourning (13.405–6). he fuller narrative here vis-à-vis War thus creates a signiicantly diferent atmosphere. Whereas the Pharisees’ growth appeared sudden in War, minimally explained as if the pious Alexandra had simply been duped by an unscrupulous band, in Antiquities the Pharisees’ popular inluence has been a central concern to the Hasmoneans all along. he Queen becomes a fellow-schemer in the calculus advanced by her dying husband in order to help quiet the people. Josephus makes the connection with the earlier rupture explicit: Queen Alexandra “directed the rabble (tÄ pk±hor) to submit to the Pharisees, and she 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 202 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA re-established whatever legal measures (mËlila) the Pharisees had introduced in keeping with the ‘fatherly tradition,’ which her father-in-law Hyrcanus had dissolved (Û pemheqÄr aÕt±r jatÈkusem)” (13.408). his note signals the complete reformation of the legal code to the status quo ante. Josephus further strengthens the link with Hyrcanus’s break from the Pharisees by reprising his editorial observation of Antiquities 13.288, now placing it on the lips of dying Janneus (13.401–2): For he declared that these men had vast inluence (dÌmashai dÁ pokÅ) among the Judeans, both to harm those they hated and to beneit those in the position of friends (bkÇxai te liso³mtar jaà vikÊyr diajeilÈmour Övek±sai). “For they are especially believed among the rabble concerning those about whom they say something harsh, even if they do so from envy (jàm vhomo³mter).” Indeed, he said that he had collided with the nation because of these men, who had been outrageously treated by him. hough Janneus confesses his crimes here, strangely none of it helps the Pharisees’ image. Josephus is too artful a writer to work with simple oppositions, such that where he is critical of a certain ruler, opponents of that ruler must therefore receive his favor. here are many shades of virtue in his narrative: a Janneus or a Herod can have serious laws but still receive due credit for certain virtues, or sympathy for his plight. Yet the Pharisees consistently come out on the side of unprincipled demagoguery. With more space available in the generous proportions of Antiquities, Josephus can elaborate on the Pharisees’ disruptive activities under Alexandra, crisply asserted in War. Now we are told that they personally cut the throats of numerous powerful men who had advised King Janneus in his actions against opponents, systematically hunting down one ater the other (13.410). his purge by Pharisees causes a counter-reaction amongst the elite (oÚ dumatoÊ), who evidently include the military leaders: these rally around the Queen’s younger son Aristobulus II, whose intercession wins them at least the privilege to live securely in royal fortresses, safe from the Pharisees (13.415). Signiicantly, Aristobulus himself makes a bid for supreme power because he foresees that if his inefectual older brother, Hyrcanus II, should assume the throne, the family would be powerless to stop continued control by the Pharisees (13.423; cf. 408). But Hyrcanus II, who is already high priest, will indeed become king (14.4), leaving the audience to infer that Alexandra’s reinstatement of Pharisaic jurisprudence remains in force (further below). Given all of the nuanced exchanges that Josephus crats in describing Aristobulus II—he with the friends of his father, Alexandra with her Pharisaic cohort— one might wonder whether the narrator really intends us to sympathize with the inluential men now hiding from the Pharisees, for had they not overseen the brutal regime under Janneus? Josephus removes any doubt about this, however, in his obituary on the Queen in Antiquities 13.430–432. With the omniscient narrator’s voice, he adopts the sentiments expressed by Aristobulus II (13.416– 417): Alexandra should not have insisted on ruling, out of a personal power-lust Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 203 (ÑpihulÊa) inappropriate to a woman, while she had grown sons more suited to the task (13.431). Without mincing words, Josephus declares that Alexandra’s rule caused all of the disasters and catastrophes that would subsequently fall upon the Hasmonean house and lead to its loss of authority (13.432). his happened because she preferred present power to what was noble or right (oõte jako³ oõte dijaÊou) and because she invited into government those who held her house in contempt (sc. the Pharisees), leaving the leadership beret of anyone who was concerned for its well-being (tÂm ÐqwÂm ñqglom t´m pqojgdolÈmym poigsalÈmg, 13.431). Again, Alexandra’s rapprochement with the Pharisees allegedly had lasting ill efects. Among the seven remaining volumes of Antiquities, the Pharisees appear as narrative actors in only three further episodes. hese occur during the administration of Herod’s father Antipater, the Roman-appointed governor while Hyrcanus II is high priest and quasi-royal ethnarch; under King Herod himself; and then at the annexation of Judea to Roman Syria. he irst episode shows Hyrcanus II in the unenviable position of trying to assert the national laws, in his responsibility as ostensible ruler, yet thoroughly intimidated by an already tyrannical young Herod (14.165). At irst persuaded by the Judean elders and the mothers of Herod’s victims that Herod has been practicing extra-judicial killing, Hyrcanus summons him to trial (14.164–169). But on his arrival, the council serving as his court is intimidated into silence. Only one Samaias (not further identiied here) rises fearlessly to declare that if the council does not punish Herod, the young man will come back to punish them. Josephus adds that this indeed happened later, and paradoxically only Samaias would be spared—for he, realizing that they could not avoid divine retribution, would advise the people of Jerusalem to admit Herod as king (14.172–176). When we next hear of Samaias, however, the story has changed. At 15.3 we learn that he is the student of a Pharisee named Pollio,48 and that it was the Pharisee who had made the original prediction about Herod! Herod’s gentleness toward the Pharisees, even when they resist his directives, is spelled out again at 15.370. Leaving aside the manuscript problems at 15.3, we may observe two important points here. First, in Josephus’s narrative, Pharisees remain an inluential part of the vestigial-Hasmonean (efectively Roman-Herodian) government under Hyrcanus II—just as Aristobulus II had feared while his mother Alexandra lived. Even Herod, once he is in ostensibly absolute control of Jerusalem, thinks it necessary to persuade (sulpeÊhy) Pollio and Samaias to take the oath of allegiance to him along with their fellow-Pharisees (15.370). Second, however, Josephus continues to avoid clarifying the situation for his audience. While he is describing Samaias’s personal virtues as a fearless speaker, 48 Although some mss have Samaias here as the Pharisee, with a student also named (a form of) Samaias, this would only postpone the problem until 15.370, where the text clearly gives the relationship above. It seems clear that some copyists adjusted the names at 15.3 to remove the contradiction with 14.172–176; they either did not notice 15.370 or could not bring themselves to “correct” the text a second time. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 204 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA he declines to identify him as a Pharisee; this identiication he reserves for a later setting that highlights Pollio’s advice to admit Herod to Jerusalem. here, however, the bold and accurate prediction (now by Pollio) of future punishment is recalled as a mere aterthought (15.4). Our aristocratic author shows no interest in explaining the continuing presence and popularity of the Pharisees. He certainly does not advertise them, though we who are interested can discover from such incidental clues that they remain in the background of his narrative. Josephus’s failure to identify Samaias as a Pharisee while he is admiring his actions may be comparable to the cases of the teachers in War 1 and the popular orators of War 4 (above), as well as another instance in Antiquities 20. hat is the story of the high priest Ananus II’s execution of James, brother of Jesus, which I have already mentioned. Josephus attributes the action by Ananus (whom War 4.319–325 lauds for his behavior during the early phase of the revolt) to the high priest’s alleged youthful rashness and daring, as well as to his membership in the school of the Sadducees, “who are savage in contrast to all other Judeans when it comes to trials, as we have already explained”—an apparent reference to the banquet with Hyrcanus I, at Antiquities 13. 296. Josephus goes on to state that “those in the city who were reputed to be most fair-minded and most precise in relation to the laws (ësoi ÑdËjoum ÑpieijÈstatoi t´m jatÀ tÂm pËkim e@mai jaà peqà toÅr mËlour Ðjqibe²r),” a remark recalling his earlier descriptions of the Pharisees, were deeply ofended by the Sadducean high priest’s action. Whereas scholars oten suggest that Josephus means to indicate Pharisees here, I think that we must respect his compositional choices. He could not plausibly expect his audience—any audience other than scholars with concordances— to read “Pharisees” here in Antiquities 20, without his spelling it out. Although his narrative might lead us to expect that he was thinking of Pharisees when he described these popular non-Sadducean exegetes, yet again he opts not to apply the label “Pharisee” just where he is praising the behavior of the group in question. he next Antiquities episode in which the Pharisees appear is openly hostile. Ater Herod has killed his sons Alexander and Aristobulus (ca. 8 b.c.e.), another son, Antipater, rises to prominence while the beleaguered king, exhausted by intrigues, begins to fail (Ant. 17.18, 32). Antipater reportedly gains control over Herod’s brother Pheroras, partly by inluencing that man’s wife and her relatives (17.34). Immune to Antipater’s designs, however, was the king’s sister Salome. She dutifully reported the conspiracy to her brother, though he was reluctant to believe her exaggerated accounts (17.38–40). So: a stalemate for the moment. At this sensitive juncture, the Pharisees appear as the decisive factor in prompting the king to action against all these conspirators. In the crabbed Greek that Josephus adopts throughout Antiquities 17–19: here was also a certain faction of the Judean people priding itself on great precision in the ancestral heritage (Ñp’ ÑnajqibÍsei . . . to³ patqÊou) and, of the laws, pretending (pqospoioulÈmym) [regard] for those things in which the Deity rejoices. To them the female bloc was submissive. Called Pharisees, they were quite capable of issuing predictions for the king’s beneit, and yet they were plainly bent on combating and also harming him (eÓr tÄ pokele²m te jaà bkÇpteim). (Ant. 17.41) Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 205 his editorial perspective, with its reference to harming those in power, recalls Antiquities 13.288, 401, and continues the well-established theme of the Pharisees’ contentious disposition. Josephus’s attempt to justify such strong language in this case borders on the bizarre. First, when some 6,000 Pharisees reportedly refuse to take an oath of loyalty to Herod—whether this is the same event as in 15.370 is debatable— the troublesome wife of Pheroras pays their ine (Ant. 17.42). In gratitude, they manufacture predictions not for the king’s beneit, but for her pleasure. hey emptily promise that Herod and his descendants will forfeit the rule, which will fall to Pheroras and to her (17.43). Josephus claims that Herod heard about this quid pro quo through his sister Salome, and now was enraged enough to execute those Pharisees who were to blame, as well as a eunuch named Bagoas and one Karos, the former object of the king’s desire (17.44). Most interestingly, the king also executed “the entire element of his domestic staf that had supported what the Pharisee was saying” (p°m Û ti to³ oÓjeÊou sumeistÉjei o½r Û Vaqisa²or ñkecem). he rhetorical personiication in “what the Pharisee was saying” is especially striking because at Antiquities 18.17 (below) Josephus will use the same unusual turn of phrase. He explains that Bagoas was executed because the eunuch foolishly embraced the Pharisees’ prediction that he would be enabled to marry and father children, and that he would be called father of a future king-messiah igure (17.45). he prediction to Bagoas makes clear the vacuous and promiscuous nature of Pharisaic prediction in Josephus’s hands: they happily stir up those who should be most loyal to the King with promises of incredible, mutually exclusive, outcomes. he efect upon the audience of Josephus’s portrait here would presumably have been much like that created by his younger contemporary Juvenal when he spoke about Jewish fortune-tellers in Rome: “a Judean will tell you dreams of any kind you please for the minutest of coins” (Sat. 6.546). Tacitus comments more generally, in the context of imperial court astrologers, about the deceptions of those who bring the science into disrepute by describing what they do not know (Ann. 6.22). For all its interest and oddness, this remarkable story of Pharisaic prediction is dropped quickly and Josephus returns to the main narrative. he Pharisee incident seems to be mentioned mainly because it provides the trigger for Herod to act more forcefully against Pheroras’s wife, who is the main character in this part of the story (Ant. 17.46–51). his episode in turn opens the way for Pheroras’s retirement from Jerusalem, and death, as well as Antipater’s momentary rise and protracted, desperate fall (17.52–145, 184–187). To give a sense of proportion, again: many individual speeches in that ensuing narrative are longer than this paragraph mentioning the Pharisees. It is in the psychological analysis of motives, virtues, and vices, to which speeches lend themselves, that Josephus’s main interest as a historian lies. His description of the Pharisees is by contrast vague and impersonal: individual Pharisees are not named; they act as a sort of nefarious Greek chorus, en bloc and without beneiting from rounded portraiture. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 206 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA Here again, Josephus passes up the opportunity to answer inevitable audience questions about the Pharisees: Where does their ability to predict come from? Why is Josephus so cynical about this ability? In what sense could they have manufactured predictions “for the king”? It is clear only, because he emphasizes the point, that the Pharisees’ popularity keeps them near the center of power and able to cause serious problems for those who govern, no matter how ostensibly powerful the rulers may be. In Herod’s case, the Pharisees are entirely on the wrong side, with the impious son Antipater, the disloyal brother Pheroras, his scheming wife, and their conspiratorial bloc. Although the inal discussion of the Pharisees in Antiquities (18.12–15, 17) has mainly to do with their philosophical tenets in relation to those of the other schools, and so will be considered in the next chapter, three statements in and around that passage complete Antiquities’ treatment of the group. First, as at War 2.118–119, Josephus’s introduction of the three schools is prompted by his mention of Judas the Galilean (here Gaulanite), who initiated a popular rebellion when Judea came under direct Roman rule: in War as a province in its own right, here as a territory annexed to the province of Syria (17.355; 18.1–2). With extra space at his disposal, Josephus dilates on the novelty, strangeness, and inescapably dangerous outcome of Judas’s absolute conception of “freedom” (ÑkeuheqÊa): this notion sowed the seed of every kind of misery, starting a movement that would spin out of control, sparking civil war and the murder of fellow citizens, especially those of high standing, and resulting in the destruction of the temple (18.4–9). Curiously, however, Josephus now explains the popular appeal of Judas’s message by explaining that the rebel leader won the support of a certain Saddok, a Pharisee (18.4): together they appealed to the nation (tÄ ñhmor), and the people (oÚ ðmhqypoi) heard what they said with pleasure (18.4, 6). Josephus reinforces this link among rebels, the masses, and Pharisees at the end of the schools passage, where he asserts that the ironically described “Fourth Philosophy”—this is not a real group, who called themselves by such a name (see the next chapter)—agrees with the Pharisees in everything except the rebels’ more absolute devotion to freedom (ÑkeuheqÊa, 18.23). Against the old scholarly view that this connection with the Pharisees contradicts War’s isolation of Judas’ rebel philosophy and newly digniies the rebels,49 Josephus’s language implies the opposite relationship: it is rather the Pharisees who are tainted by their new association with rebels. Josephus’s rejection of rebellion and stasis does not abate in his later writings. He writes as the aristocrat who, like Plutarch, is ever alert to prevent civil strife and unrest (cf. Life 17–22 et passim). Antiquities 18.3–11 is even more adamant than War 2.118 in repudiating Judas and his heirs. herefore, Josephus’s new identiication of a prominent Pharisee at the source of Judas’s rebel program can work only to associate 49 Rasp, “Flavius Josephus,” 39, 44, 47; M. Black, “Judas of Galilee and Josephus’s Fourth Philosophy,” in Josephus-Studien: Untersuchungen zu Josephus, der antiken Judentum und dem Neuen Testament, Otto Michel zum 70. Gerburtstag gemidwet. (ed. O. Betz, K. Haacker, and M. Hengel; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1974), 50; G. Alon, Jews, Judaism, and the Classical World (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1977), 44–47. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 207 the Pharisee with despicable behavior. Saddok exploits the Pharisees’ popularity with the masses, which is by now familiar to the attentive reader, to stir up the always pliable rabble for unworthy goals. Signiicantly, it is a chief priest, Joazar son of Boethus, who must work to pacify the people against such rebel leaders (18.3)—here is the representative of Josephus’s values in the narrative—though Joazar’s statesmen-like work is largely undone by Judas and the Pharisee. Second, at Antiquities 18.15 Josephus remarks that “because of these [their philosophical views], they happen to be extremely persuasive among the citizens (to²r te d±loir pihamÍtatoi tucwÇmousim), and divine matters—prayers and sacred rites—happen to be performed according to the manner of interpretation of those men (ÛpËsa he²a . . . poiÉseyr ÑngcÉsei t¨ ÑjeÊmym tucwÇmousim pqassËlema).” his is followed by a diicult clause about the citizens’ following “the way that prevails in/over all things, in both their regimen of life and their speech.”50 Note the double “happen to be,” which applies more than the usual amount of distance between author and object of discussion: Josephus conspicuously withholds any personal investment in the group’s popularity. hird, any doubt about Josephus’s evaluation of the Pharisees’ popularity is removed by his further notice concerning the Sadducees. Recalling his earlier observation about the small elite base of the Sadducean school (13.297–298), he now remarks that this [Sadducean] doctrine has reached only a few, albeit those who are highest in standing (toÅr lÈmtoi pqÍtour to²r ÐniÍlasi), and almost nothing is accomplished by them. For whenever they enter into governing positions (ÛpËte cÀq Ñp’ ÐqwÀr paqÈkhoiem), though unwillingly and under compulsion, they therefore [i.e., as a condition of public oice] side with what the Pharisee says (pqoswyqo³si d’ o¹m o½r Û Vaqisa²or kÈcei), because otherwise they would not be tolerable51 to the masses. (18.15–16) Although one or more of Josephus’s references to the Pharisees, especially the more overtly hostile ones, have traditionally been ascribed wholesale to his undigested sources,52 it is clear now that he is responsible for all of them. he striking similarity of language between this relatively neutral school passage and the preceding episode (in speaking of “what the Pharisee says/said”), along with the conspicuous share of both passages in the peculiar language experiments of Antiquities 17–19, and then the links between these passages and Antiquities 13 (e.g., the Pharisees’ determination to “harm” rulers and their inluence with the 50 Greek, ÑpitgdeÌsei to³ Ñpà p°si jqeÊssomor ñm te t¨ diaÊt\ to³ bÊou jaà kËcoir. Although Feldman (in the Loeb edition) renders “by practicing the highest ideals,” presumably in view of the preceding ÐqetÉ (oten “virtue”) aÕto²r [Feldman, “the excellence of the Pharisees”] in Ant. 17–19 ÐqetÉ need not mean moral virtue or excellence, but oten retains its older sense of morally neutral strength or force (e.g., 17.44, 49, 171, 238, 277, 279). 51 Greek ÐmejtËr: 7 of its 11 occurrences in Josephus are in Ant. 18, one of many features embedding this passage in the surrounding narrative. 52 See n. 19 above. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 208 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA masses), show that we are dealing with a consistent authorial hand—no matter how varied Josephus’s underlying sources may (admittedly) have been. To summarize thus far: Josephus features the Pharisees only briely in Antiquities, and only ater the main story (Ant. 1–12) is inished, in his narrative of the Hasmonean dynasty’s decline. here he sets up a situation that will apparently endure until his own time. Namely, although John Hyrcanus threw over the Pharisees’ legal prescriptions (mËlila) in a it of pique engineered by the Sadducees, the popular animosity that this generated, which reached its height under Alexander Janneus, could not be sustained. Alexander’s widow restored Pharisaic jurisprudence, and the group’s hold on popular opinion has remained formidable ever since. Even King Herod could only execute a few of their leaders when they created serious diiculties for him; he had still to deal with the group, and by the time his son Archelaus was removed in 6 c.e. at least one of their leaders was ready to exploit their inluence again for rebellious ends. Tellingly, Josephus’s summary comments on the Pharisees’ popularity are in the present tense, including his description of the Judean philosophies at 18.12–22. He gives no narrative reason to think that the Pharisees’ inluence waned appreciably through the period of his history. What must impress the reader interested in the Pharisees is Josephus’s lack of interest in the group: we must go looking for Pharisees in Josephus. He does not highlight their presence or answer obvious questions about their leaders, activities, legal principles, group structure, social composition, relationship to the ancient priestly Senate (as Josephus presents it), entry requirements, claims to special powers, or popular appeal (contrast the Essenes of War 2.119–161). hat they are able to manipulate the masses for whatever end they wish, and oten use this inluence to harm the eminent—this is enough of an indictment for our aristocratic author. Apparently, he fails to answer obvious questions because he disdains the group and regrets their popularity, like that of the countless other demagogues in his stories (e.g., Ant. 4.14–20, 37; 7.194–196; 18.3–6; 20.160, 167, 172; cf. Sallust, Cat. 37.3). In Life Josephus’s autobiography adds a fascinating personal dimension to the picture of the Pharisees developed in his two historical accounts. his one-volume work is an appendix to the magnum opus, a celebration of the author’s selfacclaimed virtue (Life 430) elaborated against the standard ancient rhetorical criteria of noble ancestry (1–6), youthful exploits (7–19), military and political achievements (20–413), and benefactions given and received (414–430). his self-introduction irst mentions the Pharisees quite neutrally in conjunction with the other two schools (Life 10), only to say that in his youthful quest for philosophical training, self-improvement, and toughening (ÑlpeiqÊa, sjkgqacycÈy, pomÈy), Josephus did not ind any of these groups satisfactory; he refers the audience to his “frequent” (pokkÇjir) earlier discussions for deHendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 209 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus tails. Fleeting though it is, this constitutes the inal “school passage” (see the next chapter). For present purposes, however, we must deal with Josephus’s claim that his lack of satisfaction with the schools led to his retreat to the desert, to live with the extreme ascetic Bannus for three years. It was this experience that inally answered his philosophical yearning (ÑpihulÊa, Life 11). What comes next (Life 12) requires careful attention, for English-speaking scholars have almost always taken it to mean that Josephus either joined or wished to claim that he joined the Pharisees. Yet such a claim at this point would make no sense of the immediate context, where he has found the Pharisees and the other schools insuicient; only Bannus (whose ardent student, fgkytÉr, he became) has shown him the way. A sudden lurch toward the Pharisees would, moreover, come as a shock ater Josephus’s few and disdainful references to the group throughout War and Antiquities. And most important, such a reading cannot be sustained by the sentence in question (Life 12).53 At the age of 18 to 19, when his Roman contemporaries would have completed their higher studies in philosophy and/or rhetoric and begun to take up responsibilities in public life, this is precisely what Josephus claims to have done. He returned to the polis of Jerusalem (eÓr tÂm pËkim ÜpÈstqevom) and, “being now in my nineteenth year, I began to involve myself in public life” (ÒqnÇlgm pokiteÌeshai). Although in Jewish and Christian literature the middle verb pokiteÌolai can have the meaning “govern oneself ” or simply “behave,” it is clear from the immediate context here (preceded by polis and followed by his diplomatic trip to Rome, Life 13), from Josephus’s usage of this verb elsewhere,54 and from the closest parallels in contemporary Greek authors of Josephus’s class (Plutarch, Mor. 798d–e, 800d, f, 813a, 804f), that he is describing his embarkation upon adult political life, something expected of all members of his class. hus, “[ater three years with Bannus], I returned to the city. Being now in my nineteenth year, I began to involve myself in polis-afairs [or ‘become politically involved’].” But that is not the end of the sentence. Dependent clauses add, “following ater [or ‘following the authority of’] the school of the Pharisees (t¨ VaqisaÊym aÚqÈsei jatajokouh´m), which is rather like the one called Stoic among the Greeks.” Clues about the intended sense of the irst and crucial sub-clause include the following. First, the kata-preix on the main participle suggests “following ater someone’s lead or following an authority”—rather than joining or becoming zealously involved with a group. (Contrast Josephus’s experience as Bannus’s devotee, fgkytÉr) Second, since this clause is dependent, Josephus’s entry into polis life provides the basis or reason for his following the lead of the Pharisaic school. hird, we have seen that it is a minor theme of the later Antiquities, however grudgingly divulged, that the Pharisees and their program hold complete sway over the masses and therefore over political life. At Antiquities 18.15, 17 Josephus has said pointedly that whenever anyone comes into public 53 54 562545 For a full examination of the passage, see Mason, “Was Josephus a Pharisee?” Ant. 4.13; 13.432; 14.91; 15.263; 18.44; 20.251; Life 258, 262. Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 210 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA oice, he must—even if unwillingly and by necessity—side with “what the Pharisee says.” Just as his mention of the three groups at Life 10 refers the audience to earlier discussions, so also this notice about following the lead of the Pharisees in public life reminds the audience of what he has said just three volumes earlier. If even Sadducees coming into oice must support the Pharisees’ agenda, Josephus’s observation that his own entry into public life required following the Pharisees’ prescriptions does not imply any closer ailiation with the group than the Sadducees had. Like War 2.411 (above), Life 21 makes only passing mention of the “principal men of the Pharisees” (to²r pqÍtoir t´m VaqisaÊym) alongside the chief priests, in the coalition trying to manage the clamor for war. Even more pointedly than War, Antiquities has insisted that the hereditary priesthood and its leaders constitute the proper ruling elite of Judea.55 Since the time of Queen Alexandra, although Josephus has preferred to speak of hereditary aristocraticpriestly leadership, he has grudgingly acknowledged that the immensely popular lay movement of the Pharisees must always be reckoned with by those in power. Since Alexandra, at least, leading Pharisees have been able to exert considerable inluence on those in power; we glimpse their presence in the highest councils under Hyrcanus II and Herod. As the war against Rome takes shape, War 2.411 and Life 21 furnish hints of what seems a closer, more deliberate and diplomatic alliance: leading Pharisees are speciically identiied in the ruling coalition. his makes sense in Josephus’s narrative world: in the national emergency created by popular and demagogic demands for rebellion, the chief priests need the inluence of prominent Pharisees to help calm the masses.56 he next cluster of references to the Pharisees, which is the last among Josephus’s known writings, may illustrate the sort of relationship between chief priests and leading Pharisees that he has suggested until now. Observe even here, during the early revolt, the divide that remains between even the most eminent Pharisees and the chief priests. his narrative section conirms that Josephus does not number himself among the Pharisees. Some of his most determined adversaries, however, are Pharisees or close friends of Pharisaic leaders. Josephus’s career as Galilean governor-commander has placed him in roughly the same position—i.e., a successful leader undermined by jealous Pharisees—that he has repeatedly described as the typical situation for other rulers. 55 E.g., Ant. 3.188; 4.186, 218, 222, 224, 304, 325; 5.15, 23, 55, 57, 103, 353; 10.12, 62; 11.8, 11, 17, 62, 139–140; 12.142; 13.166; 14.211; 20.6, 180–181. 56 Although I am trying to interpret the narrative, one can imagine that such dynamics might have been in play historically. Whereas scholars like to pass judgment on whether certain chief priests, Josephus himself, or leading Pharisees were “pro- or antiRoman,” as if this were a ixed trait, Josephus’s narrative resonates with our common experience of places caught up in unrest. Native leaders are oten faced with conlicting allegiances: sharing popular resentment of intrusive great powers and wanting to express that outrage, yet trying to manage dissent in safe ways, while preserving their own lives (e.g., not being tarred as collaborators) and social stability; seeing the futility of reckless or implacable revolt and yet possibly agreeing at certain moments to guerrilla strikes for the sake of honor. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 211 By Life 189–191, Josephus’s Galilean command is facing increasingly energetic opposition from John son of Levi, from Gischala in Upper Galilee, who will eventually become one of the two chief “tyrants” of Jerusalem in the war against Rome. he strong man of his hometown, John at irst tried to restrain his fellow-Gischalans from revolt against Rome (Life 43), much as Josephus tried to restrain the Jerusalemites (17), but John became outraged when nearby Greek cities launched attacks. hese led him to fortify the walls of Gischala against future incursions (44–5). his taste of militancy, Josephus implies, paved the way for John’s later emergence as rebel leader—solely, we are told, for the sake of personal power (Life 70). his change brings John into direct confrontation with Josephus, who has been sent by the Jerusalem council to govern all Galilee (Life 29, 62). he main expression of this conlict before the passage that interests us has been John’s efort to inspire the major city of Tiberias to defect from Josephus (Life 84–104, 123); John had considerable success there, as also at Gabara (123–124). he next we hear of John (Life 189–190), he is pulling out all the stops to contrive Josephus’s removal from Galilee. He sends his brother Simon to Jerusalem, to ask the renowned Pharisee Simon son of Gamaliel to persuade the council to demand Josephus’s recall. Josephus introduces this famous Pharisee in grand style: Simon son of Gamaliel was from Jerusalem (the greatest stage for any Judean aristocrat: cf. Life 7), of illustrious ancestry, and from the school of the Pharisees, “who have the reputation of excelling others in their precision with respect to the ancestral ordinances” (oÚ peqà tÀ pÇtqia mËlila dojo³sim t´m ðkkym ÐjqibeÊZ diavÈqeim)—Josephus’s standard description of the group (cf. War 1.110; 2.162; Ant. 17.41). But we have seen that such an introduction does not indicate his favor, for in the other cases the ensuing narrative undermines the Pharisees’ reputation. So it is here. Although he acknowledges that Simon was a most capable politician (191), Josephus continues, “Being a long-time friend and associate of John [son of Levi], however, he was then at odds with me.” he following account describes the eminent Pharisee’s eforts to have Josephus removed, in terms that amount to a serious indictment of Simon’s character. Simon irst tries a direct approach: attempting to persuade the chief priests Ananus and Jesus, who evidently retain executive authority even in the wartime coalition, to replace Josephus with John. But these priest-aristocrats, whose wisdom and probity Josephus had celebrated at length in War (4.314–325), dismiss the leading Pharisee’s ploy as both unjust (“the action of sordid men”), since Josephus was an able and well-regarded leader, and impracticable—for the same reason (Life 194). When Simon fails with this forthright approach, he conidently promises John’s men that he will nonetheless achieve his aim: not to worry! His new, secret plan is for John’s brother Simon to bribe Ananus and his group with gits (Life 195–196). his tactic succeeds, alas, so that even the chief priests now become complicit in seeking Josephus’s removal from Galilee. Needless to say, we might easily entertain doubts that the story represents historical reality: it plainly serves Josephus’s interests to protest the chief priests’ unwillingness to countenance the dishonorable process pushed by Simon. Yet we are trying to interpret the narrative, and Josephus’s portrait is clear enough: 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 212 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA this famous Pharisee cannot direct policy himself, but must try to use his inluence (deriving from the Pharisees’ popular prestige) to convince the chief priests, the most powerful leaders, of his views. Remarkably, Simon is the only named Pharisee in Josephus besides Pollion (Samaias may be judged a Pharisee by association), and he beneits from a touch of Josephus’s typical efort at rounded characterization of individuals. In spite of Simon’s otherwise admirable qualities, his close friendship with Josephus’s adversary John drives the prominent Pharisee to move against Josephus, even though the undertaking is patently unjust. Simon even corrupts the chief priests. As a result of the head Pharisee’s machinations, three other prominent Pharisees are recruited to act unjustly against Josephus. It is not clear whether the chief priests themselves comply with the whole appeal and agree to replace Josephus with John (Life 190), because they send a four-man delegation with armed escort to bring Josephus back dead or alive, and apparently to provide a substitute collective government (202). his delegation is on John’s side (203), to be sure, but the council has sent four men in order to persuade the Galileans that somewhere among them will be found whatever qualities they admire in Josephus(!). In Josephus’s sardonic enunciation of the comparison, we learn that all four are Jerusalemites like him; all are highly trained in the laws, as he is; and two of the men are priests, one of chief-priestly ancestry, thus more than compensating for the one priest Josephus (198). hey ostensibly have the better of Josephus on all fronts. Yet before he spells out this comparison, Josephus has also informed us that three of the four men—two of the laymen and the ordinary priest—were Pharisees (197). Signiicantly, Josephus does not adduce membership in the Pharisees as a point on which this group can be favorably compared with him. He does not say “they were three Pharisees in contrast to me, only one,” though he does compare himself with them in ancestry, origin, and legal training. Why, then, does he identify the three as Pharisees? Obvious reasons are: (a) to explain how they all had a claim to education in the laws, given that two of them were not priests as he was (note the reminder that Pharisees enjoy a reputation for legal precision); and (b) to connect them with the leading Pharisee Simon, as opponents of the legitimate leadership of Josephus. His own position, by contrast, is connected with the nation’s revered chief-priestly leadership under Ananus and Jesus (cf. War 2.563–568). Once they arrive in Galilee to execute their mission, the behavior of this mostly Pharisaic delegation conirms—and helps to explain—Josephus’s consistent portrait of the popular school as hostile toward the nation’s priestly/royal elite. Josephus portrays the actions of their leader Jonathan, one of the three Pharisees (Life 197), as particularly reprehensible. He and his group lie and deceive, slander, engage in violence (202, 216–218, 237–238, 274–275, 282–282, 290–292), and even abuse the sacred Law (290–291) in their single-minded pursuit of Josephus—in spite of our author’s self-reported uprightness and popular afection. Another Pharisee, Ananias, Josephus describes as “a vile and wretched man” (pomgqËr ÐmÂq jaà jajo³qcor, 290). In the end, Josephus’s divine protection and resourcefulness, complemented by the grateful devotion of the Galilean masses Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 213 whom he has managed to win over by every possible stratagem, enable him to defeat the Pharisaic delegation and send them back cowering to Jerusalem (332). he council eventually dismisses the attempt of Simon the Pharisee to remove him (311–312). Conclusions and Corollaries Although my work since the published revision of my 1986 dissertation on Josephus’s Pharisees (1991) has taken many new directions in exploring his rich and vast corpus—e.g., his rhetoric, the structure of his works, his audiences in Flavian Rome—these new perspectives mainly conirm my original sense of the way the Pharisees function in these narratives. Now more than ever I would stress how marginal the Pharisees were to Josephus’s principal concerns: they do not appear in the main stretches of War (3–7) or Antiquities (1–12), or in the summation of the Judean constitution we know as Against Apion. hroughout his writings run many coherent lines of interest, concerning the character and constitution of the nation, and his own character as the Judeans’ shining representative. To these interests, the Pharisees are more or less irrelevant. Josephus assumes the position of a proud aristocrat, the spokesman for his nation ater the disastrous war against Rome. He writes with sophistication, showing deep familiarity with the repertoire of elite political themes that was cultivated from Polybius through Diodorus and Dionysius to Josephus’s contemporaries Plutarch and Dio Chrysostom, and on to Cassius Dio.57 his is a world of discourse in which men of breeding and culture (paideÊa) are the only ones capable of leading their people with wisdom and restraint, resisting the reckless, emotional impulses that drive lesser characters: the mobs, youthful hot-heads, barbarians, and women. he job of the statesman (Û pokitijËr) is to protect the body politic from disturbance (stÇsir), and Josephus’s accounts are illed with the measures taken by his people’s rightful leaders, from Moses and Aaron to himself and his aristocratic peers, to ensure the peaceful life of their citizens under the world’s inest constitution. In this narrative world, Pharisees appear as an occasional aggravation to the elite. hey are a non-aristocratic group with enormous popular support and a perverse willingness to use that support demagogically, even on a whim, to stir up the masses against duly constituted authority—Hasmonean, Herodian, or Josephan. In War, the moment of Pharisaic ascendancy is the reign of Queen Alexandra, though Josephus says as little as possible about the group ater that. In Antiquities, Alexandra’s reign is again a watershed, but now Josephus ofers a back-story, the preceding interval from Hyrcanus I to Alexandra, as a failed experiment in governance without the popular Pharisaic jurisprudence. Ever since Alexandra’s reign, therefore—under Herod’s government and through the irst century until Josephus’s time—the Pharisaic program has again been in place: 57 562545 E.g., Eckstein, Moral Vision; Swain, Hellenism and Empire. Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 214 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA one who accepts oice must listen “to what the Pharisee says.” We do not know, because Josephus does not explain, how his audience should have understood the mechanisms of Pharisaic inluence, let alone the content of the Pharisees’ jurisprudence or how it was implemented. He seems uninterested in moving from complaint to clariication. During the earliest phase of the war, at least, leading Pharisees are more deliberately welcomed by the priestly elite, as the latter use the popular party’s inluence to try to stem the tide of rebellion. Still, the priests retain control through the early phases, before the “tyrants” seize power following the murder of Ananus and Jesus (War 4.314–344). (note: I continue to speak of the story, not of the real past.) Conspicuously, to us who are able to scrutinize the narratives (a pleasure not shared by many ancients), Josephus passes up many opportunities to mention Pharisees, especially in contexts that might have elicited his praise (e.g., the anti-Herodian teachers, Simon son of Gamaliel in War, Samaias, or those who opposed James’s execution by a young Ananus II). Nor does he elucidate their group structure or explain their popularity. We must join some dots if we wish to understand. When he does mention them as players in the narrative it is usually to express annoyance at their inluence and tactics. He retains the last word over his own mischievous Pharisee opponents in Galilee, however, in the selfaggrandizing Life. Although my aim has been to construct an adequate synthesis of the Pharisees in Josephus’s narratives, if this interpretation is successful it obviously undermines hypotheses about the historical Pharisees that are based upon signiicantly diferent interpretations of Josephus. For example, an inluential theory has held that the Pharisees attained some power under Alexandra, then faded from political life under Herod (or earlier), to resurface only on the eve of revolt in 66. his theory depends upon the impression that Josephus’s narratives (viewed rather positivistically, as if proportional records of events) highlight the Pharisees only at these points.58 But we have seen that Josephus portrays the re-establishment of Pharisaic jurisprudence under Alexandra as a necessary condition of governance, which has persevered until his own time.59 he theory of decline and reawakening is usually tied up with a surprisingly durable claim about Josephus’s biases: that in Antiquities and Life he aligns himself with the Pharisees and advocates their (post-70, Yavnean) program—and so the fuller attention to Pharisees in Antiquities amounts to his endorsement of them as a new post-70 elite.60 If the foregoing analysis is even roughly correct, however, such an assessment of Jose58 Among relatively recent works, Grabbe, Judaism, 2:470–76; Sanders, Practice and Belief, 386. 59 Whereas in historical reconstruction each reconstructed phenomenon must be argued separately, when interpreting a narrative we are entitled to accept conditions of Judean life painstakingly established by the author at one place (Ant. 13) and assumed again later (Ant. 18) as holding in the intervening narrative as well. He need not pause every few pages, especially when speaking of Roman or Babylonian afairs, to remind us that Pharisees are still inluential with the Judean masses. 60 Grabbe, Judaism, 2:474. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Pharisees in the Narratives of Josephus 215 phus’s aims is impossible. He limits discussion of the Pharisees and has a general interest in ignoring them (even in Antiquities), only occasionally exposing them as examples of the demagogic type that he and his audiences deplore. It is worth stressing that Josephus was a uniquely positioned reporter who may have had special reasons for disliking such a group as the Pharisees. His aristocratic biases should therefore be checked, if possible, by sources closer to the popular levels where the Pharisees found their supporters. Even Luke-Acts, the two-volume work that is among the best (in literary terms) produced by the irst generations of Jesus’s followers, is more favorably disposed toward the Pharisees than is our elite priest (cf. Mason 1995). It may be objected to my analysis that excision of the school passages for separate treatment (see the next chapter) skews the picture. here, if anywhere, Josephus achieves near neutrality in portraying the Pharisees; his comments about their beliefs are not hostile. And surely the school passages are also part of the narratives. his is all true. My proleptic response is that, while it has seemed eicient to accept the editor’s proposal of reserving the school passages for a separate chapter, I have also commented here on the narrative function of those passages. hey do not signiicantly alter the general portrait I have described. As we shall see in the next chapter, brief comparative sketches of two or three philosophical schools, especially on the central question of fate and free will, were literary conventions and can be found also in other elite writers. hey are too schematic to be of much use, and of doubtful accuracy or consistency anyway: they seem to function mainly as display pieces for the author’s erudition, providing a narrative diversion. hey also place him above the fray of inter-school squabbles, showing that he is not bound by a particular doctrine. It was a natural option for someone of Josephus’s presumed stature to describe in brief compass the range of Judean philosophical schools. Yet just as Cicero can be harshly critical of Epicureans in other contexts (Pis. 68–72), and yet still grant them a neutral place in his philosophical spectrum, so too the fact that Josephus can epitomize the Judean schools in such set pieces without overt judgment says nothing about his view of the group. hat view is more likely to emerge in his narrative descriptions and moral evaluations of this group alone, which we have examined here. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 Chapter 7 The Philosophy of Josephus’s Pharisees In the previous chapter, treating the roles of the Pharisees in Josephus’s narratives, we noticed a telling remark. In his story about the banquet at which John Hyrcanus repudiated the Pharisees and their legal code, Josephus observes that the Hasmonean prince, then a student of the Pharisees, was intent on living a just (dÊjaior) life and on pleasing both God and his beloved teachers (Ant. 13.289). Josephus ofers the editorial explanation, “for the Pharisees philosophize” or “practice philosophy” (oÚ cÀq Vaqisa²oi vikosovo³sim). Two points impress one immediately. First, the of-hand way in which he makes this remark suggests that Josephus’s understanding of Pharisees as philosophers is ingrained, and not an artiicial construction for the “school passages” (below). It is hardly plausible, in spite of longstanding scholarly assumptions,1 that Josephus’s sources are responsible for portraying as philosophical schools what were really “religious” groups, and that Josephus took over these sources in spite of his own knowledge and perspective. hose passages it too well with his general and even incidental tendencies as an author.2 Second, the explanation itself—Hyrcanus asks Pharisees for help in his pursuit of just or righteous living and in pleasing God because they are philosophers—drives home signal diferences between modern philosophy and ancient vikosovÊa or philosophia. (Can we imagine inviting the local philosophy department to dinner, to solicit their help in our quest to live a decent, God-fearing life?) Yet “justice” in all its valences—political, criminal, moral, religious—was indeed a central preoccupation of ancient philosophy.3 1 E.g., Hölscher, “Josephus,” 1949 n.*; G. F. Moore, Judaism: In the First Centuries of the Christian Era (New York: Schocken Books, 1958); M. Black, “he Account of the Essenes in Hippolytus and Josephus,” in he Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology (ed. W. D. Davies and D. Daube; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1956), 172–82; M. Smith, “he Description of the Essenes in Josephus and the Philosophoumena.” HUCA 35 (1958): 273–93; Schwartz, “Josephus and Nicolaus”; Bergmeier, Die Essener-Berichte. 2 For criticism of source theories, see C. Burchard, “Die Essener bei Hippolyt: Hippolyt, REF. IX 18, 2–28, 2 und Josephus, Bell. 2, 119–61,” JSJ 8.1 (1977): 1–41; A. I. Baumgarten, “Josephus and Hippolytus on the Pharisees,” HUCA 55 (1984): 1–25; Mason, Josephus on the Pharisees, 176–77, 306–8, 384–98; D. S. Williams, “Josephus and the Authorship of War 2.119–161 (on the Essenes),” JSJ 25.2 (1994): 207–221. 3 Plato’s Republic, a dialogue on the meaning of justice, is only the most famous example. See Jaeger, Paideia, 2:198–208. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 218 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA hese observations already generate three tasks for this chapter, which attempts an adequate contextual reading of Josephus’s Pharisees as philosophical school, namely, to survey the landscape of “philosophy” in Josephus’s time; to investigate the larger uses of philosophy in Josephus’s works; and then to examine the school passages in those works. By “school passages,” I mean those in which Josephus compares the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes as philosophical schools, with generic terms such as aÚqÈseir (schools) or vikosovÊai (philosophies). here are four such units in Josephus—War 2.119–166; Antiquities 13.171–173; 18.12–22; Life 10–11. Although the last of these adds little, referring the audience to “frequent” earlier discussions (see chapter 1), we shall consider it briely by way of introduction to the theme. Another pericope, the “footnote” to Hyrcanus’s banquet story (Ant. 13.297–298), nearly qualiies as a school passage, since it explains important diferences between Pharisees and Sadducees; but we have examined that clariication as a narrative product in the previous chapter. Here, then, we shall focus on the three school passages of War and Antiquities, ater initial sketches of philosophy in the Roman world and in Josephus. Although our focus will remain on the Pharisees, we cannot avoid considering this school in relation to the other two, because Josephus does so. Philosophy in Roman Antiquity: Some Salient Features I have noted that Josephus’s brief reference to the three schools in his autobiography adds little content to our picture of their respective systems. Yet the passage does highlight an essential diference between ancient and modern categories, for it describes his youthful experimentation with the Judean schools in terms of discipline, training, and even toughening: When I was about sixteen years old, I chose to gain expertise (or experience, ÑlpeiqÊa) in the philosophical schools4 among us. here are three of these: the irst, Pharisees; the second, Sadducees; and the third, Essenes, as we have oten said. . . . So I toughened myself and, ater considerable efort (sjkgqacycÉsar oÕm ÑlautÄm jaà pokkÀ pomgheÊr), passed through the three of them. (Life 10–11) 4 Greek, aÚqÈseir. In earlier Greek, the noun aêqesir indicated one’s “choosing” or “taking”—in any ield (Plato, Phaedr. 99b; Soph. 245b; Phaedr. 249b; Aristotle, Ath. pol. 3.6; Eth. eud. 1249b; Lucian, Phal. 1.9). Perhaps because the term came to be employed so frequently in philosophical-ethical discussion, concerning one’s choice of a way to live (Lucian, Hermot. 21, 28), it had by Josephus’s time become also a technical term for a philosophical school or sect (cf. Galen, Ord. libr. eug. 19.50; Lucian, Demon. 13; Hermot. 48; Diogenes Laertius 1.18–21; cf. 2.47). Diogenes notes that several others before him had written books “On the Schools” (peqà aÚqÈseym; 1.19; 2.65, 87). Although Josephus can use aêqesir in its broader senses—the “taking” or “capture” of a town (Ant. 7.160; 10.79, 133, 247; 12.363, etc.); another sort of “choice” or “option” (War 1.99; 6.352; Ant. 1.69; 6.71, etc.)—in thirteen of its thirty-one occurrences it means for him “philosophical school” (War 2.118, 122, 137, 142, 162; Ant. 13.171–173; Life 191, 197). He freely interchanges vikosovÊa and cognates (War 2.119, 166; Ant. 18.11, 23, 25). hus he presents Judean culture as wholly comparable to Greek: it even has its own philosophies. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 The Philosophy of Josephus’s Pharisees 219 Hellenistic philosophia, “devotion to wisdom,” was oriented toward discovering happiness or well-being (eÕdailomÊa, felicitas). But if one’s well-being were to be secure, everyone realized, it needed to be grounded in reality.5 Philosophy’s great advantage was that it claimed to ofer a safe, solid, reliable way to live one’s life, neither reacting impulsively to circumstances, animal-like, nor resorting to unreasonable, superstitious coping mechanisms (Plutarch, Mor. 171e; Epictetus, Diatr. 3.23.34; Lucian, Men. 4; Justin, Dial. 8.1). As Aristotle’s vast legacy illustrates, the ancient precursors of most modern disciplines, from physics, biology, mathematics, agriculture, and astronomy to political science, anthropology, psychology, language, and theology, not to mention metaphysics, logic, and ethics, fell within the purview of the ancient philosopher. At least by the Hellenistic and Roman periods, however, the more abstract aspects of philosophy had become harnessed to the quest for the virtuous and therefore happy life. In spite of the many diferences among Greek philosophical schools concerning the workings of the cosmos, they largely agreed on the moral disposition that should result from philosophical study. he label “philosopher” came, therefore, to describe a type of person: a man (usually) committed to simplicity of lifestyle, rational mastery of the desires and fears that drove other mortals, and direct, frank speech. Already for Cicero in the irst century b.c.e., the categories “philosophy” and “philosopher” were more important than the doctrines of any particular school: he speaks of worthily undertaking the heavy obligations of “philosophy” (e.g., Pis. 58, 71–72; Phil. 8.10; Red. sen. 13). his recognition of philosophy as a pursuit requiring one’s whole commitment appears frequently in authors of the irst and second centuries c.e.6 Probably the closest ancient parallel to modern evangelical conversion was the sharp turn to embrace the philosophical life, with its rejection of worldly values.7 he existence of identiiable persons who had taken up such a life explains how Vespasian and Domitian could expel “philosophers” from Rome—when the latter had begun to express with annoying candor their views on the developing monarchy (Dio 66.13.1; Suetonius, Dom. 10). And it was not Stoicism or Epicureanism but philosophy that would later console Marcus Aurelius (Med. 1.6, 14, 16–17, etc.) and Boethius (Cons. 1.3.2, 5; 4.1.1). 5 On happiness as goal, see Plato, Resp. 421b and especially Aristotle, Eth. eud. 1214a, 1217a, 1219a–b; Eth. nic. 1095–1097, 1099a, 1102a, 1153b, 1177a–b, etc.; Seneca, Ep. 15.1; Plutarch, Lyc. 13.1; 29.2–4; 31.1; Comp. Dem. Cic. 1.1; Mor. 5c, 24b–25a, 97d. he second- and third-century commentaries on Aristotle by Aspasias and Alexander feature eÕdailomÊa conspicuously. 6 Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Ant. rom. 2.21.1, 68.2; 5.12.3; 11.1.4; Ant. or. 1.13; 4.13; Isocr. 1.9, 43; 4.21; 7.28; Dio Chrysostom, 1 Glor. 1.9; 2.24, 26; 7.128; 12.9; 18.7; 20.11; 27.7, etc.; Epictetus, Diatr. 1.8.13, 15.t, 2, 4, 25.33; 2.11.1, 13, 14, 17.30, 24.15; 3.13.23, 31.22, etc.; Justin, Apol. 3.2.5; 4.8.2; 7.3.3; 12.5.4; 26.6.4; Dial. 1.3.7, 11; 6.3; 2.1.2, 4–5. 7 Epictetus, Diatr. 3.21.20, 23.37; Lucian, Nigr. 1, 33–38; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 4.16; 5.22.12; Augustine, Conf. 3.4.7; cf. Nock, Conversion, e.g., 185; H. I. Marrou, A History of Education in Antiquity (trans. G. Lamb; Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1956), 206–7. It is no coincidence that second-century Christians, such as Justin Martyr, the author of the Epistle to Diognetus, Clement of Alexandria, and Augustine understood philosophy as the category best suited to explain their way of life—and conversion to that life. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 220 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA One index to the comprehensive claims of ancient philosophy is what we might call the “Spartanization” of philosophy’s image, by which I mean a resort to the highly disciplined community of classical Sparta as a paradigm of moral and political philosophy. We see a glimpse of this already in Xenophon’s (fourth century b.c.e.) portrait of the Spartan leader Agesilaus, alongside whom he had fought. Observe his points of emphasis: No doubt it is thought to be noble to build walls impregnable to the enemy. But I at least judge it nobler to prepare for the impregnability of one’s own soul: in the face of material gain and pleasures and fear [as did Agesilaus]. . . . It brought him great cheer also that he knew he was able to adjust ungrudgingly to the way the gods had arranged things, whereas he saw the other man leeing the heat and leeing the cold alike, through weakness of soul, emulating a life not of good men but of the weakest animals. . . . he man who is foremost in endurance (jaqteqÊa) when the time comes for labor, in valor when it is a contest of courage, in wisdom when it is a matter of counsel: this, it seems to me at least, may rightly be considered an excellent man overall. . . . he virtue of Agesilaus appears to me to be a model for those wishing to cultivate manly excellence (jakÄm ðm loi doje² e@mai Ù #AcgsikÇou ÐqetÉ paqÇdeicla cemÈshai to²r ÐmdqacahÊam Ðsje²m boukolÈmoir). (Ages. 8.8; 9.5; 10.1–2) Tellingly, Xenophon’s description of the philosopher Socrates’ virtues hardly differs from this: philosophy enabled him to be a master of endurance in all seasons and situations (Mem. 1.2.1; cf. 2.1.20; 3.1.6), always able to control his passions, following a tough regimen (Mem. 1.3.5), relentlessly training his body and rejecting all forms of luxury and sotness (Mem. 1.2.1–4). He lived in extreme simplicity, eating and drinking only the minimum necessary, and leeing sexual temptation along with other harmful pleasures (Mem. 1.3.5–15). Well trained soldiers thus oten possessed the virtues that philosophy aspired to inculcate by other means. Later Cynics, Stoics, and others found the characteristics of classical Sparta’s adult males—rigorous training, simplicity of diet and lifestyle, disregard for marriage and family, communal male solidarity, rugged adaptability to all hardships, disdain for conventional goods, keen sense of personal honor at all costs, and unlinching courage in the face of pain and death—stripped, as necessary of objectionably bellicose traits (Plato, Leg. 626c–d; Aristotle, Pol. 1333b)—the living enactment of their philosophical aspirations (cf. Plutarch, Lyc. 31.1–2).8 Roman moralists, too, found the Spartiate model singularly appealing, and so exempted Spartans from their typical characterization of Greeks as efeminate, preening windbags. Old Sparta, notwithstanding its subsequent decline, seemed a model of Cato the Elder’s Roman virtues enacted through the male elite of a whole society.9 Polybius discussed Spartan-Roman parallels; Poseidonius speculated about genetic links between Spartans and Romans; and the Hasmoneans played up a genetic connection with Sparta. 8 E. N. Tigerstedt, he Legend of Sparta in Classical Antiquity (2 vols.; Stockholm: Almquist & Wiksell, 1974), 1:228–2:30–48. 9 A. Wardman, Rome’s Debt to Greece (Bristol: Bristol Classical Press, 1976), 90–93. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 The Philosophy of Josephus’s Pharisees 221 Sparta was so attractive because it was a basic goal of ancient philosophical training to make the practitioner impervious to physical hardship, weakness, and desire, to the emotions and human sufering (two senses of tÀ pÇhg). Many philosophers, including Seneca’s teacher Attalus, prescribed harsh physical regimens with respect to food, drink, and sex; he even required his students to sit on hard seats (Seneca, Ep. 108.14).10 hough possibly exaggerating, Lucian’s Nigrinus observes that students of philosophy are commonly subjected by their teachers to whips, knives, and cold baths, in order to produce toughness and insusceptibility to pain (stÈqqom jaà ÐpahÈr); students oten expire, he claims, from the physical exertions required by other philosophers (Nigr. 28). At Nigrinus 27 he seems to quote a slogan about philosophical training, “with many compulsions and eforts” (pokkaÃr ÐmÇcjair jaà pËmoir), which as it happens closely matches Josephus’s language above. he inal test of all this training, and so of one’s worth as a philosopher, was the ability to face death itself with equanimity (e.g., Epictetus, Diatr. 3.26.11–14, 21–39). Signiicantly, the only other occurrence in Josephus of the verb sjkgqacycÈy, which he uses to describe his “toughening” through philosophy (above), concerns his Pythagorean-like Daniel and friends, who observe a vegetarian diet in Babylon (Ant. 10.190). Josephus claims that these young men thereby avoided making their bodies sot (lakajÍteqa). He has said nothing so explicit about such tough training elsewhere in his descriptions of the Judean schools, though his Pharisees (Ant. 18.12) and especially Essenes (War 2.122–123; Ant. 18.20) reportedly practice the simple life, avoiding luxury and sotness. he tendency that we have observed in the Roman period toward eclecticism among philosophers11 was mirrored and facilitated by standard assumptions about the education of aristocrats. hese men were cultivated to be all-around leaders, ready to meet any public need that might arise, as orators, lawyers and magistrates, governors, generals, landowners, priests, historians, poets, and philosophers. In the mix of training needed to produce members of the elite, Plutarch comments on the importance of philosophical education (Mor. 10.8a–b): One must try, then, as well as one can, both to take part in public life (tÀ joimÀ pqÇtteim), and to lay hold of philosophy [note the generic category] so far as the opportunity is granted. Such was the life of Pericles as a public man (ÑpokiteÌsato— same verb as in Josephus in Life 12; cf. chapter 1). Cicero’s intensive youthful training among several philosophical schools (Fam. 13.1.2; Fin. 1.16; Brut. 89.306–391.316), an exercise thought to instill the Romanelite virtue of humanitas,12 had become a model of liberal education. Going the 10 M. L. Clarke, Higher Education in the Ancient World (London: Routledge, 1971), 93. Cf. Arnaldo Momigliano, Quarto Contributo alla Storia degli Studi Classici e del Mondo Antico (Rome: Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura, 1969), 240; A. Meredith, “Later Philosophy,” in he Roman World (ed. J. Boardman, J. Green and O. Murray; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), 288–307, esp. 290. 12 G. B. Conte, Latin Literature: A History (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 19940, 177. 11 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 222 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA round of the philosophies to gain breadth and perspective may not have been possible or desirable for everyone, but it was a typical course for certain determined young men of means (Lucian, Men. 4–5; Justin, Dial. 2; Galen, De anim. pecc. dign. cur. 5.102). Such worldly cultivation in all the schools precluded any gauche or possibly dangerous devotion to a single ideology; as Ramsay MacMullen observes,13 “specialization in one school . . . belonged to pedants, not to gentlemen.” Both the quest itself and the folly of embracing any single school’s doctrines were satirized, two generations ater Josephus, by Lucian in his Philosophies for Sale.14 hus, Josephus’s determination to equip himself by training in the several Judean schools, in preparation for a public career, was a familiar experience in the Roman world. Inevitably, to put it another way, philosophical perspectives became another element of the juggernaut of rhetoric. Whereas the principles of rhetoric had once fallen under the polymath-philosopher’s scrutiny,15 by Josephus’s time philosophical themes had long since been fully incorporated under the mandate of rhetoric. Expertise in rhetoric was the ultimate goal and highest good of elite education in the Hellenistic-Roman world,16 and the irst-century rhetor Aelius heon complains that too many students approach it without even a modicum of training in philosophy (59.1–7): he ancient rhetoricians, and especially the most renowned, did not think that one should reach for any form of rhetoric before touching on philosophy in some way (pqÃm ×lyscÈpyr çxashai vikosovÊar), thereby being expanded with a breadth of intellect. Nowadays, by contrast, most people are so lacking in paying attention to such teachings that they rush into speaking without taking on board even much of what are called general studies. So those who had some claim to philosophical training might understandably launt their credentials, as Josephus does (Life 10–12). Philosophical issues such as those described above had become for them, just like the historiographical principles originally designed by hucydides and Polybius to distinguish history from rhetoric,17 rhetorical commonplaces or topoi (loci): stock items in a speaker’s or writer’s repertoire, around which accrued standard techniques of elaboration, illustration, and evaluation. Because elite students were trained by rhetoric to write and speak in all genres (cf. heon, Prog. 60, 70), and because philosophy was part of the elite repertoire, a cultivated man should be able to speak of it knowledgeably but without unseemly devotion. An important part of rhetorical training was mastering diferent kinds of what were called ekphraseis (ÑjvqÇseir): focused, vivid digressions on key persons, environmental conditions (geographical or climactic), battle prepara13 MacMullen, Enemies, 47. Cf., on Josephus, Rajak, Historian, 34–38. 15 E.g., in Aristotle’s famous three-volume, Rhetoric. 16 See Marrou, Education, and now Cribiore, Gymnastics, for a vivid introduction to the world of elite education. 17 Marincola (Authority) illustrates the point thoroughly. 14 Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 The Philosophy of Josephus’s Pharisees 223 tions and scenes of conlict, or objects such as building structures (heon, Prog. 118–120; Hermogenes, Prog. 10). hough not as common as these other forms of digression, the comparison of philosophical schools shares the essential requirements of ekphrasis: diversion from the main narrative to make vivid some particular issue, in language suited to the subject. Philosophical comparison is a kind of ekphrasis that includes within it a theoretical thesis (heon, Prog. 120–123). It is a matter of abstract controversy not involving speciic persons or circumstances. hus, a smattering of philosophical understanding and especially a repertoire of philosophical anecdote were useful items in the speaker’s or writer’s arsenal. Like other members of his class, Josephus employs philosophical language not as a specialist or devotee, but as a man of the world who took the harder path and immersed himself in philosophy—Judean and Greco-Roman—as part of his education. One upshot of this eclectic training was that authors who had enjoyed an aristocratic education felt comfortable tossing of the sort of philosophical discourse that Josephus writes for himself at Jotapata (War 3.361) or providing urbane asides for their audiences. In particular, schematic comparisons of the various philosophical schools could be useful subjects for digression. Cicero, ater his strenuous eforts to acquaint himself with Greek philosophy, describes the main Greek schools for his Roman audiences: Epicurean (Fin. 1–2), Stoic (Fin. 3–4), and Platonist (Fin. 5). He could also range the schools along a spectrum according to their views on Fate: It seems to me that, there being two opinions among the older philosophers, the one held by those who believed that everything occurred by Fate in such a way that Fate itself produced the force of necessity (this was the view of Democritus, Heraclitus, Empedocles and Aristotle), the other by those to whom it seemed that there were voluntary motions of the mind without Fate, Chrysippus wanted to strike a middle path, as an informal arbitrator. (Fat. 39; cf. Nat. d. 1.1–2) Among historians, Tacitus, while commenting on Tiberius’s devotion to astrology, pauses to remark on the various philosophical approaches to the same questions: Indeed, among the wisest of the ancients and among their schools you will ind conlicting theories, many holding the conviction that the gods have no concern with the beginning or the end of our life, or, in short, with mankind at all; and that therefore sorrows are continually the lot of the good, happiness among the lesser sort. Others, by contrast, believe that, though there is a harmony between Fate and events, yet it is not dependent on wandering stars, but on primary elements and on a combination of natural causes. Still, they leave to us the choice of a way of life, maintaining that wherever the choice has been made there is a ixed order of consequences. (Ann. 6.22) Like Cicero, he identiies the Fate/free will problem as fundamental: some deny that Fate determines human life at all; others ind a certain (vaguely explained) symbiosis between Fate and events, while allowing freedom of human choice; 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 224 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA most think that a person’s future is astrologically ixed at birth (Ann. 6.22). Later, Galen the polymath physician will routinely compare three or four schools on a given issue (Anim. pecc. dign. cur. 5.92, 102; Plac. Hipp. Plat. 7.7.22; Ord. libr. eug. 19.50.14), and Diogenes Laertius will plot the Greek schools along two lines of “succession” from ancient masters (1.13), or between the two poles of airmative or dogmatic and negative or skeptical beliefs about the workings of the cosmos (1.16).18 We have a parallel to this kind of comparison even from Greek India: when in the early second century b.c.e. King Menander goes in search of a wise man to help resolve his doubts, his Greek entourage inform him that there are six philosophical schools in India, each with its own master (Milindapanha 1.11).19 his is all (perhaps disappointingly) similar to Josephus’s comparisons of the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes, which also hinge on their views of Fate (below). In all of these texts, such summaries have the efect of elevating the author as a man of broad philosophical awareness far above the parochial views of any particular school. But we should not expect much illumination from Josephus’s learned digressions, any more than we do from Tacitus’s brief relections on the various approaches to Fate. Josephus’s three-school schematics are formulaic and, in relation to his larger narratives, of negligible size or signiicance. In sum, the broad values of philosophy had by Josephus’s time become fully assimilated to aristocratic Roman social values: personal honor, courage, simplicity of life, incorruptibility, frankness, liberality, mastery of the emotions by reason, imperviousness to the allure of pleasure, and contempt for sufering and death. Only men of such virtues (i.e., the elite) were thought capable of steering the ship of state and preserving it from the impulses of the masses or from rogue demagogues. An author of Josephus’s standing should know and be able to explain the particular philosophical schools of his culture, yet with the requisite detachment from any particular one. He might be excused if during his idealistic youth he had indulged himself in philosophical devotion (as he did).20 Yet civic-polis life required him to lay aside such indulgence. (See the analysis of Life 11–12 in the previous chapter.) General Philosophical Currents in Josephus To provide some perspective for Josephus’s three school passages, we should irst consider the broader philosophical themes that permeate his writings. Judean culture had for a long time appeared to some outside observers as distinctively philosophical, because of its acceptance of a single invisible God, its lack 18 Hellenistic philosophers such as Chrysippus and Poseidonius oten compare Stoics and Epicureans (according to extant fragments) while working out their own views, but they are in a diferent category from the aristocratic amateurs I am discussing here. 19 I owe this reference to Richard Wenghofer, doctoral student at York University researching Greco-Roman ethnography. 20 Similar youthful enthusiasm, appropriately abandoned for serious public life, is reported by Seneca, of himself (Ep. 108.22), and by Tacitus, of his father-in-law Agricola (Agr. 4.3). Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 The Philosophy of Josephus’s Pharisees 225 of regional temples and sacriice, its devotion to the study and interpretation of ancient texts, and the conspicuous daily regimen—in diet, calendar-based observance, and social restraint—of its representatives (heophrastus ap. Porphyry, Abst. 2.26; Megasthenes ap. Clement of Alexandria, Strom. 1.15.72; Diodorus Siculus, 40.3.4; Strabo Geogr. 16.2.35; Ag. Ap. 1.179).21 Tacitus, though no admirer of the Judeans in general, concedes the philosophical character of their piety in contrast with that of the Egyptians: Egyptians worship many animals and made-up images, but Judeans conceive of one deity, and with the mind only (Iudaei mente sola unumque numen intellegunt). hose who fashion representations of a god from perishable materials in human form [they consider] impious, for that which is supreme and eternal is neither susceptible of imitation nor subject to decay. herefore they do not allow any images to stand in their cities, much less in their temples: not for kings this lattery, nor for Caesars this honor. (Hist. 5.5) Judean insight into the inefable nature of the divine plainly commands Tacitus’s respect. Corresponding to such admiration among foreign observers—even if this was occasionally grudging—was a tendency among Greek-language JewishJudean writers from at least the second century b.c.e. to interpret their own tradition in philosophical terms (Aristobulus apud Eusebius, Praep. ev. 13.12.1, 4, 8; he Letter of Aristeas; 4 Macc 1:1; 5:4, 8, 23; Philo passim). In considering this issue, we must bear in mind that ancient writers did not have the option—open to us—of speaking about either religion or Judaism. Greek (as Latin and Hebrew) lacked either a word or a concept matching our post-Enlightenment category “religion,” and therefore there could be no “Judaism” as such—and indeed there is no corresponding term in the extensive writings of either Philo or Josephus.22 What we consider religion was woven into many diferent categories of life (e.g., cult, politics, family life, sports, games, and theater). Prominent among these categories, and one that included crucial aspects of modern religion (viz. moral exhortation, exposition of texts concerning ultimate questions, and an ethical system based thereon, freely chosen adoption of [“conversion to”] that system), was philosophia. Josephus is among those writers who vigorously promote the philosophical interpretation of Judean culture. hough present from the beginning of War, this is clearest in his later works. Josephus claims that, because the constitution of Moses relects natural law, anyone wishing to inquire more closely into the basis of Judean law will ind the exercise “highly philosophical” (Ant. 1.25). He laces Antiquities with detours on geography, ethnography, astronomy, mathematics, plant and animal life, historiography, language, and other such tools of the savant’s trade. He criticizes the Epicureans, a favorite target of Roman authors too, 23 for believing that the divine does not interfere in human afairs (Ant. 10.277; 19.28), and he occasionally 21 Nock, Conversion, 62. As I shall show more fully in a forthcoming JSJ article, Greek -ismos nouns are a false friend to English -isms that indicate a system of belief and practice. 23 Cf. Cicero, Fam. 3.9; 9.25; 13.1, 38; Red. sen. 6.14; Epictetus, Diatr. 3.24. 22 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 226 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA shares his own editorial observations on Fate and free will, the soul, and the afterlife (1.85; 6.3; 8.146; 12.282, 304; 19.325). He separately compares Essenes with Pythagoreans (Ant. 15.371) and Pharisees with Stoics (Life 12). In keeping with his claim to be thoroughly trained in the “philosophy” of the Judeans’ ancient books (Ag. Ap. 1.54), he even asserts that the Judean law itself “philosophizes” on the vexed problem of Fate and free will (Ant. 16.398). Particularly noteworthy is Josephus’s emphasis on “happiness, well-being, prosperity” (eÕdailomÊa), a term whose importance to moral philosophy we have seen above. From the prologue onward, Antiquities insists that only the legal constitution bequeathed by Moses brings happiness (Ant. 1.14, 20). Josephus introduces this word some forty-seven times into his biblical paraphrase (Ant. 1–11), though it had not appeared at all in the other major efort to render the Bible in Greek, the Septuagint. What Moses received from God at Sinai promised, according to Josephus, “a happy life and an orderly constitution” (bÊom . . . eÕdaÊloma jaà pokiteÊar jËslom; 3.84). he Judean nation is singularly happy (eÕdaÊlym), Josephus’s Balaam says, happier than all other nations (pÇmtym eÕdailomÈsteqoi t´m ÜpÄ tÄm ékiom), because it alone has been granted God’s watchful care (pqËmoia) as an eternal guide (4.114).24 his related theme of God’s watchful care, or providence, was a preoccupation of contemporary Stoicism (e.g., Epictetus, Diatr. 1.6, 16; 3.17). In a number of places Josephus more or less equates God with Providence, Fate (eÚlaqlÈmg), and even Fortune (tÌwg).25 Accordingly, Josephus portrays key igures in early Judean history as philosophers. Following Seth’s descendants, who discovered the orderly array of the heavenly bodies (Ant. 1.69), Abraham inferred from the irregularity of these bodies that there was one ultimate God (1.155–156). With the mind of a true philosopher, he visited Egypt intending that “if he found it [what their priests said about the gods] superior, he would subscribe to it, or, if what he himself thought was found preferable, he would reorder their lives according to the more excellent way” (1.161). Anticipating Socrates, he employed a dialectical method to listen carefully to them, and then expose the vacuity of their arguments (1.166). So it happened that it was he who taught the elements of mathematics and science to the renowned Egyptians (Ant. 1.167–168). Moses, the peerless lawgiver, himself studied nature in order to achieve the proper foundation for his laws (Ant. 1.18–19, 34). Like Plato (Rep. 3.386–417), the Judean lawgiver rejected out of hand the unseemly “myths” about the gods (Ant. 1.22–24). His greatness of intellect and understanding were apparent even in childhood (2.229–230). He “surpassed in understanding all who ever lived, and used his insights in the best possible ways” (4.328). King Solomon, for his part, “surpassed all the ancients, and sufered in no way by comparison even with the Egyptians, who are said to excel everyone in understanding; in fact, their intelligence was proven to be quite inferior to the 24 On pronoia in Antiquities, see Attridge, Interpretation, 67–70. At least, these are executive aspects of the divine (Ant. 10.277–280; 16.395–404; cf. Ag. Ap. 2.180–181). 25 Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 The Philosophy of Josephus’s Pharisees 227 king’s” (Ant. 8.42). His knowledge covered not only the whole range of natural science—encompassing every creature in existence—but extended even to occult science: the techniques for expelling demons and efecting cures (8.44–49). hese powers remain the unique legacy of the Judeans in Josephus’s day (8.46). Josephus’s Daniel is yet another kind of philosopher: he and his companions adopt a Pythagorean-like vegetarian diet, by which they keep their minds “pure and fresh for learning” (Ant. 10.193).26 It was apparently the philosophical character of the Judean laws, for Josephus, that facilitated the movement by other nationals to come and live under them—what we frame as “conversion.” Josephus contrasts the Judeans’ openness to receiving those who wish to come and live under their laws with Athenian and Spartan jealousy of their own respective citizenships (Ag. Ap. 2.255–263). In his glowing account of the Adiabenian royal house’s “having been brought over” (letajejolÊshai) to the Judean laws and customs, he acknowledges that these laws were foreign, and this created great risk for the royals. Standard English translations, such as the Loeb’s “Jewish religion” for tÀ #IoudaÊym ñhg (lit. “the customs of the Judeans,” Ant. 20.38) or “Judaism” for tÀ pÇtqia t´m #IoudaÊym (lit. “the ancestral [laws, heritage] of the Judeans,” Ant. 20.41), disguise this ethnic-national context, replacing it with comfortably modern categories such as “religion” and “conversion.” Yet Josephus stresses the “foreign and alien” character of Judean laws in relation to the Adiabenians (Ant. 20.39: nÈmym jaà ÐkkotqÊym Ñh´m; cf. 20.47), and it was precisely this issue of foreignness that bothered his Roman contemporaries: Tacitus and Juvenal considered it impious for Romans to adopt foreign laws, because it meant abandoning their own ancestral traditions in the process (Hist. 5.4–5; Sat. 14). his anomie involved in adopting the laws of another ethnos is partly resolved in Josephus by resort to the Judean constitution’s uniquely philosophical character, for one cannot be faulted for converting to the philosophical life. Josephus’s Abraham provides the model of the missionary philosopher (above), and the whole discussion of comparative constitutions that Josephus hosts in Ag. Ap. 2.146–196 is philosophical in nature. In Judean War, Josephus’s irst work, he exploits philosophical themes in a subtler way. Without much using the explicit language of philosophy, he nevertheless crats two erudite speeches, for himself and Eleazar son of Yair, on life, death, morality, and suicide—with demonstrable debts to Plato (War 3.362–382; 7.341–388).27 hroughout the entire War he drives home the Judean-philosophical virtues of courage, toughness, endurance, and contempt for sufering and death. But the most compellingly philosophical section of the work, and a primary contextual reference-point for the Pharisees and Sadducees of War, is Josephus’s lengthy description of the Essenes in War 2.119–161. 26 D. Satran, “Daniel: Seer, Prophet, Holy Man.” Ideal Figures in Ancient Judaism: Proiles and Paradigms (ed. J. J. Collins and G. W. E. Nickelsburg. Chico Calif.: Scholars Press, 1980), 33–48. 27 Cf. M. Luz “Eleazar’s Second Speech on Masada and its Literary Precedents,” Rheinisches Museum 126 (1983): 25–43; D. J. Ladouceur, “Josephus and Masada.” in Josephus, Judaism, and Christianity (ed. Feldman and Hata), 95–133. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 228 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA Although there is much to say about War’s Essene passage, I wish to make only two points here. First, Josephus’s Essenes exhibit the comprehensive liferegimen of a philosophical school that we have now come to expect. In describing so many aspects of this school—initiation requirements and oaths, disciplinary and expulsion procedures, daily regimen, leadership structure, treatment of private property, sexual relations and attitude toward children, dress, dining and toilet habits, purity measures, objects of study, manner of worship, view of the soul and aterlife—Josephus gives us the clearest picture anywhere in his writings of a Judean “school.” And it emerges that they live out the highest aspirations of philosophy in the Roman world. We considered above the Spartanization of Greco-Roman philosophy. Very much like the Spartiates, Essenes live their whole lives under the strictest discipline, avoiding even the use of oil in personal grooming (War 2.123; cf. Plutarch, Mor. 237a; Lyc. 16.6; Ages. 30.3), which is otherwise ubiquitous in the Greco-Roman world. hey too remove women from their company, hold all possessions in common, and share a common meal. hey disdain equally the pleasures (2.122) and the terrors (2.152) that motivate most others. Second, the Essene passage is a condensed version of Josephus’s claims about all Judeans. We see this partly in War 2.152–153, where the Essenes display the same virtues of courage and toughness in the face of torture that characterize Judeans throughout the work (2.60; 3.357, 475; 5.88, 458; 6.42; 7.406), but most clearly in a comparison with Against Apion. here, what Josephus has said about the Essenes in War 2 is applied to all Judeans: the whole nation observes the laws with the strictest discipline and solemnity, lives in utmost simplicity, values virtue above all else, holds death in contempt (same phrases used as for Essenes), and keeps women in their place. Sex, among Essenes (War 2.161–162) as for all Judeans, is thus for procreative purposes only, and not for pleasure.28 It is conspicuous, in light of the discussion above, that Against Apion compares the Judeans favorably with the Spartans, driving home the point that the glory days of that universally admired state are only a distant memory, whereas Judeans have continued to practice these virtues for many centuries until the present, as the recent war has demonstrated (Ag. Ap. 2.130, 172, 225–231, 259, 272–273). Josephus has entered the Judeans in the competition for most philosophical nation. he third-century Platonist philosopher, Porphyry, seems to have seen these connections clearly. In the fourth book of his work On Abstinence (from animal food), soon ater discussing the Spartans (4.3–5) he treats the Judeans (Abst. 4.11–14) as further models of a disciplined regimen. For evidence about the Judeans he devotes most of his account to War’s Essene passage (4.11.3–13.10, almost verbatim), although he claims to get his information from both War 2 and Against Apion. Since Against Apion does not mention the Essenes, it appears that Porphyry saw the striking similarities and so confused the Essene passage in War 28 Ag. Ap. 2.145–146, 293–294, pieces of panegyric on the Judean laws, can be matched phrase for phrase with earlier descriptions of the Essenes. See also Ag. Ap. 1.225; 2.193–196, 199–202, 205, 223. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 The Philosophy of Josephus’s Pharisees 229 2 with what Josephus ascribes to all Judeans in Against Apion, perhaps on the assumption that a whole nation could not sustain such a disciplined regimen. he school passages, to which we now turn, are therefore only one example— a minor and perfunctory one—of the philosophical interests that run throughout Josephus’s works. As an author he is much more interested in those larger issues of moral character, in relation to the Judeans as a people, than he is in the petty doctrinal diferences of the schools. When he leetingly compares the schools’ positions on Fate and the soul, he is only doing what a man of his education should be able to do: explain to foreign audiences that his people too have schools, with such and such views. But the result smacks of conventionalism and suitable vagueness. Josephus does not have Cicero’s taste or patience for detailed philosophical analysis. Pharisees among the hree Judean Schools Let us, then, consider in turn the three school passages identiied above. Such an examination is more useful for understanding Josephus than for investigating the Pharisees. We shall ind what seem to be quite deliberate inconsistencies. At the very least, however, a responsible assessment of the Pharisees among the school passages should provide some criteria for using these passages in historical reconstruction. War 2.119–166 is paradoxical. On the one hand, Josephus appears to regard it as his deinitive statement, for he will refer the audience to it in both of the later school passages, Ant. 13.173 and 18.11, as also at 13.298. On the other hand, the form of the passage is not standard. Since the Essene component of the description (War 2.119–161) consumes more than twenty times the space given to either Pharisees (2.162–163, 166a) or Sadducees (2.164–165, 166b), the Essenes cannot properly be considered part of a three-way comparison. Because Josephus has chosen to feature the Essenes so elaborately, as towering examples of Judean virtue, instead of using a Ciceronian three-point spectrum he opts here for the sort of binary contrast between airmative and skeptical positions that Diogenes Laertius (above) will employ: Pharisees airm what Sadducees deny. [162] Now, of the former two [schools], Pharisees, who are reputed to interpret the legal matters with precision, and who constitute the irst school, attribute everything to Fate and indeed to God: [163] although doing and not [doing] what is right rests mainly with the human beings, Fate also assists in each case. Although every soul is imperishable, only that of the good passes over to a diferent body, whereas those of the vile are punished by eternal retribution. Airmed by the Pharisees—ater the reminder that they are reputed to be the most precise interpreters of the laws (2.162–163)—are: the connection of “all things with Fate and indeed with God” (eÚlaqlÈm\ te jaà he© pqosÇptousi pÇmta); the immortality of the soul (xuwÉm te p°sam lÁm ðvhaqtom); the 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 230 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA passing of the good soul into another body (letabaÊmeim dÁ eÓr èteqom s´la tÂm t´m Ðcah´m lËmgm); and the eternal retribution facing the vile (tÀr dÁ t´m vaÌkym aÓdÊz tilyqÊZ jokÇfeshai). he Sadducees (2.164–165) deny Fate, remove God from the scene (Epicurean-like), and reject survival of the soul with post-mortem judgment. We lack the space here for a proper exegesis of these statements, but a few points are noteworthy. First, when it comes to the most important arena of Fate’s intervention, namely in human behavior, Josephus qualiies the Pharisees’ alleged pan-fatalism in a signiicant way (2.163): “Although doing and not [doing] what is right rests mainly with the human beings, Fate also assists in each case” (tÄ lÁm pqÇtteim tÀ dÊjaia jaà l jatÀ tÄ pke²stom ÑpÊ to²r ÐmhqÍpoir je²shai, boghe²m dÁ eÓr èjastom jaà tÂm eÚlaqlÈmgm), whereas the Sadducees recognize human choice alone. his formulation preserves the ubiquity of Fate’s activity for the Pharisees, allowing them to occupy the airmative pole, but also reveals a degree of sophistication. According to Cicero, the Stoic Chrysippus distinguished two kinds of causes: principal or antecedent (causae perfectae et principales) and “helping” or proximate (causae adiuvantes et proximae; Fat. 42).29 When one pushes a drum down a hill, for example, the antecedent cause of its rolling is its particular nature (its rollability, so to speak). he push that starts the roll is an immediate, “helping” cause—and in every case of action such an initiating cause will be found. So for Josephus’s Pharisees, humans have a certain nature, but Fate “helps” in each action by applying a sort of prod to that nature. Of course, the relationship between determinism and free will has, in various guises (nature vs. nurture, heredity vs. environment), remained a central problem of philosophy. Plato deals in several contexts with the problem of causation in human afairs (e.g., Phaed. 80d–81d; Resp. 614b–621d; Tim. 41d, 42d, 91d–e). Aristotle credits nature, necessity, and chance with much inluence, but he holds that the choice of virtue or vice lays “in ourselves” (Eth. nic. 3.3.3–5.2). From rabbinic literature, a parallel to Josephus’s statement is oten drawn from a saying attributed to R. Akiva in m. Avot 3.15: “All is foreseen, yet freedom of choice is given” (Danby translation). But the key phrase (ywpx lbh) may mean only that all is observed (by God), and so one ought to be careful how one exercises free choice.30 hese observations about Fate and human virtue in Josephus’s Pharisees prompt a second point: that his language is wholly conventional in relation to Greek philosophy. Diction and phrasing alike—“doing the right thing” (Aristotle, Eth. nic. 1105b; Lucian, Anach. 22), “rests with human beings” (Eth. nic. 3.1.6, 5.2), “every soul is imperishable” (Plato, Meno 81b), “passes over into a diferent body” (Plato, Meno 81b; Phaed. 70c, 71e–72a), “eternal retribution” (Philo, Spec. 29 For this and other verbal parallels with Cicero’s Chrysippus, see George Foot Moore, “Fate and Free Will in the Jewish Philosophies According to Josephus,” HTR 22 (1929): 384. 30 S. Schechter, Aspects of Rabbinic heology: Major Concepts of the Talmud (New York: Schocken Books, 1961), 285. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 The Philosophy of Josephus’s Pharisees 231 3.84; cf. the classical Greek examples ofered by Josephus himself at 2.156)—are well attested in other writers on similar subjects. Josephus’s language is not only classic-philosophical, however. It also turns up oten in other parts of his narratives: describing Essenes, for whom he uses nearly indistinguishable language concerning the soul and punishments (2.154– 155, 157; Ant. 18.18); describing Sadducees, for whom he uses the same language concerning human volition (2.165; Ant. 13.173); describing Pharisees in other passages (especially Ant. 18.12–15); and describing a number of other igures, including his own views as character and as narrator.31 Finally, although Josephus uses conventional philosophical language, his description remains vague enough to hint at a unique twist in the Pharisees’ view of aterlife, for the soul of the good “passes over into another body” (singular). According to the parallel passage on Pharisees in Antiquities 18.14, the souls of the virtuous ind “an easy path to living again” (RZstÍmgm to³ Ðmabio³m). On this point the Pharisees appear to depart from the Essene position, which envisions a spiritual home beyond Oceanus for the souls of the righteous—a view that Josephus explicitly compares with Greek notions (War 2.155). he diference may be only apparent, however, since elsewhere he speaks of good souls going irst to a heavenly place and from there to “holy new bodies,” in the revolution or succession of ages (Ñj peqitqov±r aÓÍmym, War 3.375; Ag. Ap. 2.218). hose passages envisage an intervening period of the soul’s existence before its reincarnation. In any case, Josephus’s emphases in all these passages on the holiness and singularity of the new body, its nature as reward for a good life (whereas reincarnation tends to be either generic necessity or punishment in Greek thought), and the notice that the transfer will occur (once?) in the succession of ages—so not as an ongoing process—create ainities with current pictures of resurrection (e.g., Paul in 1 Cor 15:35–51). If Josephus has bodily resurrection in view, he chooses not to make himself clear. His vague but evocative language would no doubt make such a view of aterlife sound more familiar to his audience. Whether this language relects his own views or he obfuscates because straightforward talk of “bodily resurrection” might make audiences uncomfortable (cf. Acts 17:31–33; Celsus ap. Origen, C. Cels. 5.14; Augustine, Civ. 22.4–5) is impossible to say. As in the other schools passages, in War 2.119–166 Josephus neither condemns nor praises the Pharisees’ views. Airmers of Fate, the soul, and judgment ater death, they come of better than the Sadducean deniers of these things— since we know that Josephus is also an airmer (War 2.158). But in this passage he has given much fuller attention to the Essenes’ views, though these are quite similar to those of the Pharisees on key points, with unambiguous endorsement and admiration (2.158). Even his positive closing remark that, whereas the Pharisees are mutually afectionate (vikÇkkgkoi) and cultivate harmony in the 31 “hat which lies in one’s power” (War 3.389, 396; 5.59; Ant. 1.178; 5.110; 13.355; 18.215; 19.167). Souls are imperishable (War 3.372). Souls go into new bodies (War 3.375; Ag. Ap. 2.218). On language concerning the soul and aterlife throughout Josephus, see especially J. Sievers, “Josephus and the Aterlife,” in Understanding Josephus: Seven Perspectives (ed by S. Mason; Sheield: Sheield Academic Press, 1998), 20–31. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 232 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA assembly, the Sadducees are harsh even to one another (2.166), is relativized by 2.119: the Essenes outshine all others in their mutual afection (vikÇkkgkoi . . . t´m ðkkym pkÈom). In Antiquities, the irst school passage (13.171–173) gives us precious little content, though it again reveals interesting traits in our author. Restricting the comparison to the single issue of Fate, Josephus here constructs a simple threepoint spectrum like Cicero’s: [171] At about this time there were three philosophical schools among the Judeans, which regarded human afairs diferently: one of these was the [school] of the Pharisees, another that of the Sadducees, and the third that of the Essenes. [172] he Pharisees, then, say that some things but not all are the work of Fate, whereas some—whether they happen or do not occur—fall to our account. he order of the Essenes, by contrast, posits Fate as the governess of all things, and [holds that] nothing whatsoever happens to humans that is not according to her determination. [173] Sadducees do away with Fate, reckoning that there is no such thing, and that human afairs do not reach fulillment on her account, but everything rests with us, that indeed we were responsible for what is good and received evil from our own thoughtlessness. But concerning these things I have provided a more precise explanation in the second volume of the work Judaica. As in War 2, Sadducees do away with Fate altogether, but now the Essenes take up the other pole position (“Fate is the Governess of everything, and nothing happens without her vote”). Where does that leave the Pharisees? To say that “some things are the work of Fate, but not everything, for some things happen— or not—because of us.” Clearly, Josephus needs three schools for the spectrum, and the Sadducean position (denial of Fate) is a given. Whereas the Pharisees had been the Sadducees’ polar opposites in War 2, that role must now be played by the Essenes, since they have been brought into the direct comparison, which leaves the Pharisees to ind a middle way between the poles. Instead of taking War’s route, however, claiming that the Pharisees ind Fate in every action along with human will, Chrysippus-like, Josephus now unhelpfully has them attribute some things (which?) to Fate and some to human choice. hat these changes do not bother him, and indeed do not seem to matter (since he refers to War 2 for a more precise explanation), shows how little he wishes to be seen as the pedantic sort of philosopher. Broad strokes, changeable as needed for presentational reasons, suice.32 Josephus’s inal schools passage aside from Life 10–11 (above) is the only one that ostensibly combines proportion (i.e., roughly equivalent space for each school) and a degree of comprehensiveness (i.e., several items are considered for each). Closer inspection shows, however, that very little is ofered there concern32 It is an intriguing question, why Josephus located the passage here. From a narrative point of view the opening chronological tag “at about this time” seems to date the appearance of the schools, though he does not spell this out. Certainly, the passage gives him a base from which to describe Pharisees and Sadducees at 13.297–298, and it is a device of his to plant a seed to which he will later return. For other proposals, see Sievers 2001. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 The Philosophy of Josephus’s Pharisees 233 ing the metaphysical positions of either Sadducees or Essenes; Josephus focuses rather on the practices and social position of those two schools. Only the postulates of the Pharisees receive any sustained treatment. he most peculiar feature of Ant. 18.12–22 is the addition of a “Fourth Philosophy” (18.23–25)—the party of radical freedom represented by the followers of Judas the Galilean/Gaulanite—generated when Judea was annexed to the Roman empire in 6 c.e. As for the Fourth Philosophy, Josephus both abhors the innovation in the national heritage they represent, which will allegedly result in the destruction of Jerusalem, and admires the indomitable courage of its practitioners, in much the same way that he esteems the fearlessness of all Judean ighters and Essenes in War33 and the nation as a whole in Against Apion. Although scholars have oten taken Josephus at face value and spoken of the Fourth Philosophy as if it were a real entity, it seems that we should consider it rather an ad hoc literary construction. Reasons: (a) To have a “fourth philosophy,” one must have three, and Josephus is the only one we know to have positioned the three philosophies thus. Imagining the representatives of the Fourth Philosophy as a real group whose members understood themselves by such a description would be akin to expecting ilm characters to step of the screen into real life. (b) Before, during, and ater this passage, Josephus will insist that there are (only) three Judean philosophies, even though he has always known about Judas the Galilean and his followers (War 2.119; Ant. 13.171; 18.11; Life 10–11). It does not occur to him elsewhere to mention a Fourth Philosophy. (c) Blaming the Fourth Philosophy for Judea’s later ills is an ex post facto exercise, possible only with hindsight. It is unreasonable to imagine that later sicarii, Zealots, economic rebels, and other groups that emerged from particular conditions in the 40s through 60s (2.254, 651; 4.160–161) understood themselves to be members of such a philosophical school. (d) he Fourth Philosophy is not comparable to the others in having a distinctive set of views and way of life, admission procedures and membership requirements. Rather, Josephus claims that they agree with the Pharisees on all philosophical questions except the meaning of freedom (18.23). It seems, then, that he constructs a Fourth Philosophy for at least two reasons: as a novel means of exposing the aberrant character of the rebel mentality and as a way to drive home the ongoing theme of Judean courage (under the rubric of philosophy). Like the other school passages, then, Ant. 18.12–25 is thoroughly conditioned by the demands of immediate narrative context. One decisive element of this context, rarely discussed by scholars, is the peculiar style of writing that Josephus adopts in Ant. 17–19, which hackeray had credited to a literary assistant he dubbed the “hucydidean hack.”34 hackeray’s notion that for Antiquities Josephus employed an array of literary assistants with diferent propensities has been rightly rejected, however, and we seem to be dealing with the author’s 33 War 2.50, 60, 152–153; 3.229–230, 472–488; 5.71–97, 277–278, 305–306, 315–316; 6.13–14, 33–53. 34 hackeray, he Man and the Historian, 107–15. 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 234 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA own experimentation with the literary possibilities of Greek.35 In any case, Ant. 18.12–15 (on the Pharisees) uses the same stilted, quasi-poetic prose that one inds throughout these three volumes. Old Attic was characterized by “poetical coloring, forced and strange expressions, bold new coinages and substantivized neuters of participles and adjectives.”36 hat Ant. 18.12–25 shares fully in the style of books 17–19 is another indicator that Josephus has written the passage himself or thoroughly reworked any sources used. he schools passage could not have been inserted bodily from another source. What this language means for us is that, although Josephus devotes more words here than elsewhere to the Pharisees’ views, we struggle in near futility to understand him. he strangely poetic character of his language may be seen in his new treatment of the Pharisees’ unique tradition (Ant. 18.12b–c): hey follow the authority of those things that their teaching deemed good and handed down; they regard as indispensable the observance of those things that it saw it to dictate. Out of honor do they yield to those who precede them in age; Nor are they inclined boldly to contradict the things that were introduced. All of this appears to mean no more than what we learned from Ant. 13.297– 298, that the Pharisees observe a special “tradition from [their] fathers” (see the previous chapter in this volume). Obviously, embracing such a tradition assumes that they revere those predecessors. It may be that the third panel also indicates respect for living elders (though that would qualify the synonymous parallelism); if so, it only underscores the point made in War 2.166 that they live harmoniously, unlike the argumentative Sadducees; so also Ant. 18.16 has the Sadducees disputing even their own teachers. We do not have access to the historical reality of the Sadducees, but such a harsh evaluation might have been explained by insiders as nothing more than a tradition of vibrant exegetical debate. he only straightforward statement in this paragraph is the one that opens it, and it is new: “he Pharisees restrain their regimen of life, yielding nothing to the soter side” (Ant. 18.12). Josephus does not contrast the Sadducees on this point, though their base among the elite might imply wealth (18.17; cf. 13.197–198; see also the previous chapter in this volume). Translating for the Loeb Classical Library, Louis Feldman notes a rabbinic parallel (ARN 5): “Pharisees deprive themselves in this world—foolishly, the Sadducees believe, because there is no other world.” In the narrative of Josephus, it is striking that Josephus does not make more of this universally recognized virtue of simplicity in the case of the Pharisees, the way he does with the Essenes—both in this inal school passage (18.20: they surpass all others) and in War 2. Shunning luxury certainly qualiies the Pharisees to be included among the philosophers (cf. Ant. 13.289), though Josephus does not celebrate this in their case. 35 G. C. Richards, “he Composition of Josephus’ Antiquities.” CQ 33 (1939): 36–40; Shutt, Studies, 59–75; Rajak, Historian, 47–63, 233–36. 36 Palmer, Greek Language, 159. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 The Philosophy of Josephus’s Pharisees 235 On the issue of Fate, Josephus’s language is so garbled as to have caused copyists and translators much confusion: hey reckon that everything is efected by Fate; Yet they do not thereby separate the intending of the human element from the initiative that rests with them [humans] (oÕdÁ to³ ÐmhqypeÊou tÄ boukËlemom t±r Ñp’ aÕto²r Ûql±r Ðvaiqo³mtai), It having seemed right to God that there be a fusion [or judgment or weighing against] (doj±sam t© he© jqÊsim]), And in the council-chamber of that one [Fate?] and [in] the one having willed of the humans, a siding with—with virtue and vice (jaà t© ÑjeÊmgr boukgtgqÊz jaà t´m ÐmhqÍpym tÄ Ñhek±sam [t© ÑhekÉsamti] pqoswyqe²m let’ Ðqet±r ò jajÊar). Although making sense of this confusion may be a worthwhile text-critical challenge, it is diicult to see the rewards for those who simply wish to understand Josephus’s portrait of the Pharisees. he language appears deliberately crabbed and obscure, and we have no compelling reason to believe that there is much substance to be discovered. Apparently, Josephus abandons the simpliied threepoint scheme of Ant. 13.171–173, where the Pharisees hold a middle position of attributing “some things” to Fate and “some” to human volition, to return to the cooperation model of War 2.162–163. Fate is somehow involved in every action: her collaboration with human will is fancily framed but ultimately unfathomable. Since Josephus will not comment in this passage on the view of Fate held by either Sadducees or Essenes, he need not be concerned with maintaining a position for the Pharisees along a spectrum. His description of the Pharisees’ theory of souls is also awkwardly constructed, a sentence lacking a inite verb (inite verbs given below are either added for English translation or they represent ininitives in Josephus), though the general sense is clear (Ant. 18.14): hat souls have a deathless power is a conviction of theirs (ÐhÇmatËm te ÓswÅm ta²r xuwa²r pÊstir aÕto²r e@mai), And that subterranean punishments, and also rewards (ÜpÄ whomËr dijaiÍseir te jaà tilÇr), are for those whose conduct in life has been either of virtue or of vice: For some, eternal imprisonment is prepared (ta²r lÁm eÚqclÄm ÐÊdiom pqotÊheshai), But for others, an easy route to living again (ta²r dÁ RZstÍmgm to³ Ðmabio³m). Here too, the new quasi-poetic verbiage adds little to the spare prose of War 2.162–163. he eternal punishments (and possibly rewards), we now learn, are dispensed beneath the earth—so, the equivalent of Hades—and the envisaged eternal punishment is explained as an imprisonment or binding. his would come as no great surprise for Roman audiences, who would easily recall Odysseus’s famous vision of Hades (Od. 11.576–600), where Sisyphus, Tantalus, and Tityus face unending torture in the netherworld. At War 2.156, indeed, Josephus 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 236 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA mentions precisely those igures, including the similar character of Ixion, while elaborating the Essene view of post-mortem punishment. War’s “passing over to a new body” is now described by the similarly ambiguous “an easy passage to living again.” It is on this point only that Sadducean philosophy will be briely contrasted (18.16): “he doctrine of the Sadducees makes the souls disappear together with the bodies”—ironic phrasing, as if a doctrine could make souls disappear.37 he closer parallel to the Sadducees, however, is the Essene doctrine, for with reciprocal irony those men “render souls deathless” (ÐhamatÊfousim dÁ tÀr xÌwar, 18.18). he relationship between Josephus’s portraits and any actual Pharisee’s articulation of his views must remain an open question, though we have good reason—in his accommodation of this passage to the style of Ant. 17–19 and in his generally free rearrangements—to think that literary artiice accounts for a great deal. In relation to War 2, there is nothing substantially new here. A comparison of Josephus’s Pharisees with his Sadducees and Essenes in this passage turns up three matters that deserve brief discussion. First, although his language for the other two groups has a similar poetic quality, it is more straightforward in structure and meaning. Second, and this is probably related, his descriptions of Sadducees and Essenes focus on ethical and practical questions: Sadducees recognize only what is in the laws and they are men of the highest standing (though Josephus dilates on the necessity of their public capitulation to Pharisaic law; 18.16–17); Essenes maintain special sacriices and therefore are barred from the temple, but otherwise he praises their agricultural pursuits, unsurpassed virtue, common possessions, rejection of marriage and slavery, and provisions for leadership (18.18–22). Even the Fourth Philosophy, whose doctrine of radical political freedom Josephus repudiates, he mainly praises for their courage (18.23–25). hird, and the reverse of the same coin, Josephus says very little about the other schools’ metaphysical views, mentioning only briely the Sadducees’ dissolution of the soul at death, the Essenes’ attribution of all things to God and immortalization of souls, and the Fourth Philosophy’s agreement with the Pharisees. Is there any connection among these three features? If the impression of symmetry in this schools passage, which Josephus deliberately encourages—by proportionate sections, by the recurrence of “the doctrine” (Û kËcor) at the begin37 Greek, SaddoujaÊoir dÁ tÀr xuwÇr Û kËcor sumavamÊfei to²r sÍlasi—a statement worth investigating. he verb is sparsely attested before Josephus (Strabo, Geogr. 6.1.6; 8.6.23; 12.8.17; 17.3.12; Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Ant. rom. 1.1.2; Philo, Leg. 194; a fragment attributed to Pythagoras), and in these authors it is always in the middle or passive voice. Josephus uses it only here, and in the active voice. An intriguing possibility: the only writer in this group to speak of souls disappearing with bodies is the historian Dionysius, who in the prologue to his magnum opus speaks of historians not wanting their souls to disappear along with their bodies (hence they write memorials in the form of histories). Since Dionysius’s twenty-volume Roman Antiquities was not only famous in Rome, but also a principal model for Josephus’s twenty-volume Judean Antiquities, it is quite plausible (the means of proof elude us) that he intends a witty allusion to Dionysius’s prologue here. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545 The Philosophy of Josephus’s Pharisees 237 ning of the irst three descriptions, by certain structural features (e.g., SaddoujaÊoir dÈ . . . #Essgmo²r dÈ), and by a family resemblance of diction and word form—turns out to be undermined by such diferences of content and emphasis, one might reason as follows. As Josephus shows on nearly every page of Antiquities, he is preoccupied with the Judean laws (or “constitution”), with those who observe or lout them, and thus with virtue and vice. He is no abstract philosopher. In the cases of Essenes and even Sadducees, he can easily identify praiseworthy aspects of their practical philosophy. With the Pharisees (18.15, 17; cf. the previous chapter in this volume), however, in spite of their enormous popularity and although he recognizes them as a philosophical school, he inds little to praise. Ater briely noting their rejection of luxury he uses their space, as it were, for highly abstruse formulations of their positions on intractable questions of metaphysics. Although this surely does not constitute overt criticism, it its with the lack of sympathy for the Pharisees that we found in the previous chapter. Conclusions and Corollaries In this chapter we have seen that Josephus’s occasional presentations of the three Judean philosophical schools along a spectrum of metaphysical beliefs are the sort of thing one should expect from an elite representative of Judean culture. From a rhetorical point of view, they are much like his other digressions—on geography, military tactics, or botany. hey display his erudition, resulting in part from his thorough training in all three schools, and yet at the same time his urbane superiority to any parochialism, fanaticism, or pedantry—even if he had forgivably indulged philosophical yearnings in adolescence. Like a Cicero (though with rather less philosophical intensity overall) or a Tacitus, this eastern nobleman can throw in such descriptions at opportune moments, as pleasant rest stops in the onward march of his historical narrative. he broadly philosophical character of the whole story, however, is much more prominent and important than such brief and murky outlines of the schools’ beliefs. In Josephus’s case, because we have three such passages in his thirty-volume oeuvre, we can also see how freely he manipulates his material for momentary needs. In War 2, where he singles out the Essenes in order to extol the manly virtue that is the unifying theme of the book, Pharisees and Sadducees are let to occupy formulaically the pole positions of airmers and deniers. In Ant. 13, where he opts to break the narrative with a short schematic of the three philosophies On Fate, he must rearrange the pieces. Essenes and Sadducees now occupy the extremes, with Pharisees attributing “some things” to Fate and “some things” to human volition. In Ant. 18, in the middle of his regrettable experiment with bold style, Josephus tries his hand at describing the schools in the new poetic prose— as in Ant. 13 referring to War 2 for greater precision. he many added words for the Pharisees are largely redundant, however, because of their opacity and the synonymous parallelism within this passage. hey do conirm the notice in Ant. 13.297–298 concerning the Pharisees’ special tradition, which had not appeared 562545 Minion Pro 10/12 September 8, 2008 Mason3 238 JOSEPHUS AND JUDEA in War 2, and they include a new comment about the Pharisees’ simple life. he rather technical-sounding descriptions penned for the Pharisees, however, stand in marked contrast to Josephus’s open assessments of virtue among the other schools. Josephus’s handling of the three Judean philosophical schools should make us wary about using his descriptions of the Pharisees in these sketches for historical purposes.38 Some aspects of Sadducean and Essene thought and life can be conirmed by, respectively, the New Testament and Philo (also Pliny). We may conclude from such independent witnesses that Sadducees rejected the aterlife and that Essenes lived in highly regimented “philosophical” communities that stressed simplicity of life (Philo, Pliny, Nat. 5.73). Of the Pharisees, the New Testament conirms that they observed a special legal tradition “from the fathers”39 and that they believed in the aterlife; Josephus’s language permits the notion of resurrection, even though he does not spell it out. Rabbinic literature on Perushim and Tzadukim presents considerable diiculties, both internally and in relation to the Pharisees and Sadducees of Josephus and the New Testament.40 For the iner details of life and practice among these groups, however, we are frustrated partly by the general dearth of evidence, partly by an author who uses them as set pieces to be manipulated along with the rest of his material. 38 Some important eforts to reach the historical reality of these three schools are: L. Wächter, “Die unterschiedliche Haltung der Pharisäer, Sadduzäer und Essener zur Heimarmene nach dem Bericht des Josephus.” ZRGG 21 (1969): 97–114; G. Maier, Mensch und freier Wille: Nach den jüdischen Reliogionsparteien zwischen Ben Sira und Paulus (Tübingen: Mohr [Siebeck], 1981); Anthony J. Saldarini, Pharisees, Scribes, and Sadducees in Palestinian Society: A Sociological Approach (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1988); Sanders, Practice and Belief; Grabbe, Judaism, 2.463–554; G. Stemberger, Jewish Contemporaries of Jesus: Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995); and A. I. Baumgarten, he Flourishing of Jewish Sects in the Maccabean Era: An Interpretation (Leiden: Brill, 1997). 39 In particular, Baumgarten, “he Pharisaic Paradosis.” HTR 80 (1987): 63–87. 40 E. Rivkin, “Deining the Pharisees: he Tannaitic Sources.” HUCA 40 (1969): 205– 49; Neusner, Rabbinic Traditions, 3:304; also Saldarini, Pharisees. Hendrickson Publishers First page proofs September 8, 2008 562545