Jerusalem is a pivotal city in world history, past and present. The history of Jerusalem has been equated with the history of the world. And it has an imposing, monumental presence enough to over-awe any visitor.
However, as with many monuments, both ancient and modern, this work – the book, as with the place – has a fundamental flaw hidden in its foundations, which renders the whole edifice unstable, like the prophet Daniel's colossus with feet of clay. The flaw is the premise that the Bible provides us with a historical narrative with which to understand a real past, both of this city and much else. Though the overwhelming majority of people may accept this premise – regarding it as a self-evident truth – the reason why it is no longer tenable can be summarised in one word: archaeology.
Jerusalem and its environs are one of the most excavated areas of the world. From the outset in the nineteenth century, archaeologists gravitated here in the hope of unearthing confirmation and illumination of the biblical story. Unfortunately, over the last century it has become increasingly clear that there is a radical mismatch between artefacts and narrative, so much so that the Bible itself has come to be regarded as an artefact which has little value as a historical narrative in itself. If Montefiore had taken full cognisance of this change, he would have written a different and more challenging book.
Whatever the precise origins of Jerusalem in Bronze Age Canaan, Montefiore wants us to see it as primarily a holy, providential place: a city that links heaven and earth. In fact there was hardly a city in the ancient world which did not regard itself as a holy place, whose providential foundation was reinforced by subsequent myths. In the story of Jerusalem it is the myth of David which is pivotal to all that follows. And it is at this juncture that Montefiore's methodology is most wanting. Thanks to archaeological excavations across present day Israel we now know that none of the events associated with the mythical figure of David can be justified. Even more sensational is that they can be associated with a later king Omri, who lived a century after David and who laid the foundations of Jerusalem's future significance.
This bizarre change of historical understanding presents us with a remarkable conundrum, for Omri is hardly mentioned in the Bible. The one fleeting and dismissive reference is that 'he did evil in the sight of God' (1 Kings 16:30.) It is this slight clue that points to the resolution of the conundrum: the Bible is an ideological text written to justify a theological presumption – that of special election focused on a holy city – and anything that does not conform to this thesis is eliminated or transformed by misrepresentation and denigration. The result is perhaps the most fraudulent literary misrepresentation until the Elders of Zion.
Montefiore has no place for such a view in his narrative, which is happy to follow the Biblical schema.
In pursuit of his theme Montefiore frequently resorts, almost unquestioningly, to another myth – that of monotheism. Whatever its precise origins, this form of belief belongs in the Hellenic world of the sixth century, to which the Jews returned after the Babylonian exile. It is the period when the Bible took the form we now recognise. Almost everything we now associate with Judaism derives from this period, including its monotheism. The Bible became the means by which other beliefs could be disparaged and the rebuilding of the cult centred on Jerusalem justified, as distinct from any of the other cultic centres of Israel. In doing so, the redactors made the reality of ancient Israel irretrievable, other than through chinks in the ideological narrative, which careful textual criticism can sometimes partially penetrate.
It is a world which Montefiore, with his forthright espousal of YAHWEHism, clearly misrepresents. He makes no mention, for example, of the shard of Kuntellit 'Ajurd, which shows the very different origins of YAHWEH and his consort as a Bronze Age tribal deity. It is this misrepresentation which made the Bible such an effective political tool.
It is this which makes Jerusalem such a dangerous and volatile place, as all seek to access utopian futures on the basis of a mythical past. Montefiore gives an ample record of much of this, but it is a record that can only negate his premise of Jerusalem as a Holy City. There is no 'holy' city of Jerusalem, just as there is no a 'nice' or 'pious' history of Jerusalem. This is not a holy place but a truly horrible place, full of anger and hate, even in its most 'sacred' places – always ready to erupt into unrestrained violence. Its pilgrims and promoters continue to believe otherwise.
Orion (London 2011). Phoenix pbk. 2012. £9.99. 672 pages.