History of the Jews, Vol. 1 (of 6)

Asa now summoned all the men capable of bearing arms to assist in the destruction of the fortifications of Ramah. The death of Baasha, which occurred soon after this (in 933), and a revolution which ensued in Tirzah, left Asa free from menace on that side. Mizpah, a town having a very high and favourable situation, was made an important citadel by Asa. He also built a deep and roomy cistern in the rocks, in order to have stores of water in case of a siege.

Meanwhile, in the kingdom of the Ten Tribes, terrible events were happening, which were productive of changes in both kingdoms. Baasha was succeeded by his son Elah (933–932), who was addicted to idleness and drunkenness. Whilst his warriors were engaged in battle with the Philistines, and were attacking Gibbethon, he passed his days in drinking-bouts. This circumstance was taken advantage of by his servant Simri (Zimri), the commander of one-half of the war-chariots, which had remained behind in Tirzah. Whilst Elah was dissipating in the house of the captain of his palace, Zimri killed him (in 932), at the same time destroying the entire house of Baasha, and not even sparing its friends. He then, as a matter of course, ascended the throne, but his reign was of short duration; it lasted only one week. No sooner had the news of the king's murder reached the army, then besieging Gibbethon, than they elected the Israelitish general Omri, as king. He repaired to the capital, but finding the gates closed against him, he laid siege to the city and effected a breach in the wall. When Zimri discovered that he was lost, he anticipated a disgraceful end by setting fire to the palace and perishing in the flames. He was the third of five kings of Israel who died an unnatural death, and only two of them were buried in the mausoleum for the kings, erected by Jeroboam. A fourth king was soon to be added to the list. Omri, a warrior, expected to obtain the vacant throne forthwith, but he met with opposition. One part of the population of the capital had chosen another king, Tibni, the son of Ginath; he was probably a native of the city. Thus two parties were formed in the capital, and the streets were no doubt deluged with blood. A civil war was the one thing wanting in the domains of Ephraim to make the measure of misery full to overflowing. For three years the partisan conflict raged (932–928); at length the party of Omri gained the upper hand. Tibni was killed, and Omri remained sole ruler (928). He, however, felt ill at ease in Tirzah; the palace was in ashes since the death of Zimri, and other depredations had no doubt taken place during the protracted civil war. The conquered party was hostile to him, and Omri, therefore, determined to transfer the seat of the empire. He could not select Shechem, where the restless and rebellious spirit of the inhabitants would not permit him to live in safety, and there was no other important town situated in the heart of the country. Omri therefore conceived the idea of building a new capital. A high plateau, at a few hours' distance north-west of Shechem, seemed to him the fittest spot. He bought it of its owner, Shemer, erected buildings, a palace and other houses, fortified it, and called it Shomron (Samaria). Whence did he obtain inhabitants for the newly founded city? He probably adopted a course similar to David's in the case of Jerusalem, and caused the warriors attached to his cause to settle there. A year after his victory over the rival king, Omri left Tirzah, and removed to Samaria, which was destined to be the rival of Jerusalem for a period of two hundred years, and then, after two centuries of desertion, to revive, and once more wage war against Judah and Jerusalem. Samaria inherited the hatred of Shechem against Jerusalem, and increased it tenfold. The new city gave its name to the kingdom of the Ten Tribes, and the land was thence called the land of Samaria.

Omri, the first king of Samaria, was neither a strong nor a warlike leader, but he was a wise man. The crown which he had acquired, rather by the favour of circumstances than his own force of will, did not satisfy him. He wished to make his court and his people great, respected and wealthy, and he hoped that the prosperity of the days of Solomon might be restored to Israel. It is true that the nation was divided, and thereby weakened. But was it necessary for war always to be carried on between the two portions, and for the sword to destroy them? Connected as they were by reason of tribal relations and common interests, could they not henceforth pursue their course in friendly alliance?

Omri endeavoured, in the first place, to make peace with the representative of the royal house of David, and to impress upon him the advantages, to both of them, of pursuing an amicable policy. They might in that way obtain their former sway over the countries which had once been tributary to them. For a long time friendly relations were actually established between the two kingdoms; and they supported, instead of opposing, each other. Omri also cherished to a great, perhaps even to a too great degree, the hope of a friendly alliance with Phœnicia. He desired that a part of the riches which their extensive maritime expeditions and trade introduced into that country, might also flow into his own kingdom. At this time various kings had waded to the throne in Tyre through the blood of their predecessors, until at length Ethbaal (Ithobal), a priest of Astarte, ascended the throne, after the murder of his predecessor, Phalles. The disastrous occurrences in Phœnicia had greatly weakened the land. The great families had been compelled to emigrate, and had founded colonies on the north coast of Africa. The kingdom of Damascus, which had acquired great power, sought to obtain possession of the productive coast-line of Phœnicia; Ethbaal, therefore, had to strengthen himself by means of alliances. The kingdom of the Ten Tribes was nearest to him.

Omri and Ethbaal therefore had common interests, and formed an offensive and defensive treaty. The league, desired by both powers, was confirmed by an intermarriage. Omri's son Ahab married Ethbaal's daughter Jezebel (Jezabel or Izebel) – a marriage which was fraught with disastrous consequences.

Omri, fortified by this alliance, could now venture to think of undertaking warlike expeditions. He captured several towns of Moab, which had emancipated itself under Jeroboam's rule, and compelled it to become once more tributary. He forced the Moabites to send herds of oxen and rams every year as tribute. As, however, a sort of alliance existed between Moab and Aram, and an increase of Israel's power was watched by Aram with a jealous eye, the Aramæan king of Damascus, Ben-hadad I., declared war against Omri, and recovered some of the cities he had taken. Omri was forced to accept peace with Ben-hadad on hard terms, and bound himself to open the caravan-roads through the kingdom of Israel, and to allow free passage through the land.

Omri thereupon entered into a closer alliance with the kingdom of Tyre, and pursued the plan of assimilating his people to their Canaanite neighbours. Why should he endeavour to keep Israel separate from the surrounding peoples? Would it not be wiser and better to permit the kingdom of the Ten Tribes to assume a Phœnician or Tyrian character? United as they were in language and customs, might not the two races become more closely welded together, if the Phœnician form of worship were introduced into the kingdom of Israel? Omri led the way to this union. He introduced the service of Baal and Astarte as the official mode of worship; he built a temple for Baal in his capital of Samaria, ordained priests, and commanded that sacrifices should be universally made to the Phœnician idols. He desired to see the worship of the bull, as observed in Bethel and Dan, abolished. It seemed to him too distinctly Israelitish in character, and to be likely to maintain the division between the Israelites and Phœnicians. Jehovah, adored with or without a visible image, was too striking a contrast to the Tyrian Baal or Adonis for Omri to permit His worship to remain. Omri's innovations were of far greater import than those of Jeroboam; or, to speak in the language of the Bible, he acted yet more sinfully than his predecessors. He desired to rob the nation of its God and of its origin; he desired it to forget that it had a special nationality in contradistinction to that of the idolaters. History has not recorded how these changes were received. His son Ahab (922–901) was destined to continue the work, – his father's bequest, as it were. In furtherance of the latter's projects he naturally kept up the close connection with Tyre and with the king of Judah.

But the execution of a charge involving the severest attacks on the inner convictions of man is, in spite of all one may do, dependent on circumstances or contingencies beyond the calculations of the wisest mind. Two kinds of obstacles intervened to prevent the Canaanisation of the Ten Tribes. The one was Ahab's disposition, and the other arose from an unexpected cause which weakened, if it did not entirely destroy, the effect of the terrible blow aimed at religion. In order to accomplish this transformation of the nation into a mere appendage of Phœnicia, and the consequent loss of its own identity, the successor of Omri needed a powerful mind, an unbending will, and unyielding severity to crush all opposition with a strong hand. Ahab was, however, of an entirely different nature – weak, mild, loving peace and comfort, rather disposed to avoid disturbances and obstacles than to seek or remove them. Had it rested with him alone, he would have abandoned his father's system and given himself up to such enjoyments as the royal power granted him, regardless of what the future might bring. Ahab was not even warlike; he permitted the neighbouring kings to treat him in a manner which would have excited the indignation and roused the most determined opposition of any king not altogether destitute of the feeling of honour. But as he was forced against his desire and inclination to enter into a contest with an ambitious neighbour, so he was also compelled to enter upon a conflict with the Israelitish nation. His father had given him a wife in every way his opposite, with a strong manly will, who was determined to gain her ends by severity and cruelty, if necessary.

Jezebel, the Phœnician princess, whose father had filled the post of priest to Astarte before he obtained the throne, was filled with enthusiastic eagerness to carry out the plan of Canaanising the people of Israel. Either from a perverted idea or from political considerations, she desired to amalgamate the Israelitish people with her own, and make Tyrians and Israelites one nation. She continued the work commenced by Omri, with energy and mercilessness, and led her weak-minded husband into all kinds of oppressive and unrighteous actions. Jezebel's gloomy and obstinate character, with her uncontrollable energy, was the cause of a ferment and commotion in the kingdom of the Ten Tribes, which led to disastrous results, but which, like a destroying storm, performed the beneficent service of clearing the atmosphere. Jezebel's first step was to build a great temple to Baal in the capital of Samaria. In such a temple there were three altars, images and pillars, which were dedicated to a sort of holy trinity: Baal, his consort Astarte, and the god of fire or destruction (Moloch Chammon). For this worship, Jezebel introduced into the country a host of priests and prophets (450 for Baal and 400 for Astarte), who were supported at the expense of the royal house, and dined at the queen's table. Some of these priests attended to the sacrifices in Samaria, while others rushed madly through the country, celebrating their scandalous rites in the cities and villages. The Phœnician priests or prophets attired themselves in women's apparel, painted their faces and eyes, as women were in the habit of doing, their arms bared to the shoulders, and carried swords and axes, scourges, castanets, pipes, cymbals and drums. Dancing and wailing, they whirled round in a circle, by turns bowed their heads to the ground, and dragged their hair through the mud. They also bit their arms and cut their bodies with swords and knives till the blood ran, providing an offering for their bloodthirsty goddess. Doubtless they were accompanied by temple priestesses (Kedeshoth), who followed their shameful pursuit in honour of Astarte, and for the benefit of the priests. By means of this troop of priests of Baal and the ecstatic followers of Astarte, Jezebel hoped to wean the Israelitish people from the God of its fathers, and to carry into effect the plan of entirely transforming the national character. At the head of the Phœnician priesthood there was a high priest, who probably gave instructions and commands as to how they were to proceed. In the first place, the altars dedicated to God were destroyed, and others erected in the Canaanite fashion, with pointed pillars, the symbols of an obscene cult. The altars in Bethel and Dan were, no doubt, transformed in a similar manner. It was intended that the sacrifice-loving nation, for want of altars of its own, should bring its offerings to the temples of Baal and of Astarte, and thus become accustomed to this mode of worship. How easy it is to force a nation to give up its usages and peculiarities, and to accept those of strangers, if the rulers act with subtlety and force combined! The Israelites in the kingdom of the Ten Tribes had already been demoralised, owing to their half-century's separation from Jerusalem (the centre of intellectual activity), and to the bull-worship which they had long been practising. The cities had acquired a taste for luxury, and a love of dissipation, which the impure worship of Baal and Astarte only served to foster. The towns doubtless, for the most part, yielded to the new state of things, or, in any case, offered no opposition to it. Seven thousand individuals alone remained firm, and would not pay homage to Baal, nor adore him with their lips. A part of the nation, amongst them the villagers, meanwhile wavered in their ideas and actions, and not knowing whether God or Baal was the mightier divinity, they worshipped the one publicly and the other secretly. It was a period of uncertainty and confusion, such as usually precedes an historical crisis. It remained to be seen whether the ancient belief in the God of Israel, and the demands of holiness had taken sufficiently deep root, and had acquired enough vitality and power to conquer an opposing force and eradicate what was foreign. In such times a man of striking personality, in whom lives a pure faith, and who is entirely ruled by it, naturally assumes leadership, and by firmness, enthusiasm and heroic self-sacrifice convinces the waverers, strengthens the weak, incites the indifferent, and thus collects an army of defenders to rescue from imminent destruction their own national, peculiar endowments. When such an individual is roused by the very opposition of the enemy, and spurred on to action, he becomes a vivifying principle, and brings about a new state of things, a mingling of both old and new elements. Such an individual arose during this crisis in the person of the prophet Elijah (920–900).

Whence came this energetic, all-subduing prophet? In which tribe was his cradle? Who was his father? This is not known. He was simply known as Elijahu (shortened into Elijah). He was not a citizen of Transjordanic Gilead, but belonged to that class of tolerated half-citizens called Toshabim (dwellers). He was of a tempestuous nature, and was guided by no considerations of expediency; he would not have hesitated to offer his life for his creed. He was considered by his successors as the incarnation of moral and religious zeal (kanna). Like a tempest he made his entry, like a tempest he thundered forth his execrations against the weak, woman-led Ahab; like a tempest he rushed away, so that no one could seize him; and in a tempest he finally disappeared from his earthly scene of action. Elijah was imbued with the one thought, to save the belief in the God of Israel, which was passing away from the minds of the people. To this God he dedicated himself, and to His service did his life belong solely and exclusively. Elijah was outwardly distinguishable by his peculiar dress. In contradistinction to the effeminate, luxurious dress of the worshippers of Baal and Astarte, his undergarment was confined by a leather belt, and over it he wore a black hairy cloak. He wore his hair long, and touched no wine, and thus gave rise to the institution of Nazarites, who were not permitted to drink wine or to shave the hair of the head. In this costume and with these habits he appeared first in Gilead, and there announced the all-embracing creed, "Jehovah alone is God." Here, where the Jordan offered a barrier against the swarms of the priests of Baal, and where the fear of Ahab and Jezebel could not paralyze the conscience, there were yet faithful adherents of the God of Israel. Amongst these Elijah probably found his first auditors and disciples, who were carried away by his enthusiastic manner, and became his helpers.

In a short time a body of prophets or disciples (Bene-Nebiim) had arisen, who were ready to give up their lives for their ancestral tenets. They also followed Elijah's way of living, and became Nazarites. The principles of this newly formed circle were to lead a simple life, not to dwell in cities where luxury and effeminacy ruled, but in village tents, not to drink wine, not to till vineyards, to avoid agriculture generally, but, like the patriarchs and the tribes in earlier times, to live by tending flocks. Jonadab, the son of Rechab, who doubtless was one of the followers of Elijah, was the first to establish these rules for himself and his household. He impressed on his descendants the necessity of abstaining from wine, from building fixed residences, from sowing seed, and especially from planting vineyards. In this way Elijah not only aroused and inspired a band of defenders of the ancient law for his own time, but opened the path to a new future. He set simplicity and self-restraint against degeneracy and love of pleasure. With his body of disciples he eagerly commenced action against the priests and prophets of Baal. He probably passed rapidly from place to place, called the populace together, and inspired them with his storm-like eloquence, the point of which was "Jehovah alone is God, and Baal and Astarte are dumb, lifeless idols." He may even have incited attacks on those priests of Baal whom he encountered. Jezebel could not long endure the doings of the energetic Tishbite, which interfered with her plans; she sent her soldiers against Elijah's troop, and those who fell into their hands were mercilessly slaughtered. They were the first martyrs who died for Israel's ancient law. Jezebel, the daughter of Ethbaal, the priest of Astarte, was the first persecutor for religion's sake. Elijah himself, however, on whom Jezebel was specially anxious to wreak her vengeance, could never be reached, but always eluded his pursuers. His zeal had already produced an important effect. Obadiah, the superintendent of Ahab's palace, was secretly attached to the ancient law. He who, perhaps, had the task of persecuting the disciples of the prophet, hid one hundred of them in two caves of Mount Carmel, fifty in each cave, and supplied them with bread and water. Obadiah was not alone – he had in his employ men of his own faith, who executed his secret commissions. How could Jezebel combat an invisible enemy that found assistance in her own house?

One day, Elijah, though deprived of his followers, ventured into the vicinity of King Ahab, whose weak, pliable disposition he knew, in order to reproach him for the misdeeds which he permitted. Ahab had a passion for building and fortifying towns. It was at his instance that Jericho, which had been deprived of its walls since the entry of the Israelites, was fortified by Hiel of Bethel. Ahab also founded a new capital in the beautiful table-land of Jezreel, where he was desirous of passing the winter months, for Samaria served only as a summer residence. This new town of Jezreel, which was destined to become the scene of tragic encounters, was built with great splendour. The royal couple had a palace of ivory erected there, which was to be surrounded by extensive gardens. For this purpose Ahab wished to have a beautiful vineyard which belonged to Naboth, one of the most respected citizens of Jezreel. Ahab offered him a compensation, either in money or land, but Naboth did not wish to part with the heritage of his fathers. Disappointed at his inability to surround his palace with park-like grounds, Ahab would not even take food. Finding him in this state, Jezebel contemptuously upbraided him for his childish vexation and his cowardly helplessness, but promised him that he should nevertheless possess the desired vineyard. She sent out letters in the king's name to those of the elders of Israel of whose slavish obedience she was certain, and commanded them to produce two witnesses who would testify to having heard Naboth revile the gods and the king. When the council of judges had assembled at one of the gates of Jezreel, and Naboth, who was the eldest among them, had placed himself at their head, two degraded men appeared, and testified against Naboth, under oath, as they had been instructed. Naboth was condemned to death by the elders, and the sentence was carried out not only on him, but also on his sons. The property of the executed fell by law to the king. Jezebel triumphantly announced to her husband, "Now take Naboth's vineyard, for he is dead." When Elijah heard of this crime, he could no longer contain himself. He repaired to Jezreel and met the king just as he was inspecting Naboth's vineyard. Behind him rode two men, of whom one was fated to become the avenger of Naboth. The prophet thundered out to him, "Hast thou murdered, and dost now take possession?" "In the place where dogs licked the blood of Naboth, shall dogs lick thy blood, even thine." (1 Kings xxi. 19; see 2 Kings ix. 25). This denunciation had an overwhelming effect on Ahab. He reflected and meekly did penance, but ruthless Jezebel's power over her weak-minded husband was too strong for this change of mind to last.

Elijah, who had suddenly disappeared, now returned a second time to Ahab, and announced that a famine of several years' duration would befall the land. He then departed and dwelt in the Phœnician town of Zarephath (Sarepta), at the house of a widow, and later in a cave of Mount Carmel. Meanwhile a famine devastated the land, and there was not fodder even for the king's horses. One day, Elijah approached Obadiah, the superintendent of the palace, and said to him, "Go, tell thy master, Elijah is here." On his entrance, Ahab said to him, "Is it thou, disturber of Israel?" Then the prophet replied, "Not I have troubled Israel, but thou and thy father's house have."

As though he had the right to give orders, he bade the king command the priests of Baal to assemble on Mount Carmel, where it would be revealed who was the true, and who the false prophet.

What occurred on Mount Carmel, where the contest took place, must have produced an extraordinary impression. Ahab, we are told, summoned all the prophets of Baal to the mountain, whither many of the people repaired, anxious to witness the result of the contest between the prophet and the king, and to see whether the prevailing drought would in consequence come to an end. The hundred prophets who had hidden in the caves of Carmel, and were maintained there by Obadiah, were probably also present. Elijah presided at the assembly, which he addressed, saying (1 Kings xviii. 21): "How long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him." He then ordered the priests of Baal to erect an altar, offer sacrifices, and call on their god for a miracle. The priests did so, and according to their custom, they wounded themselves with knives and lances till the blood gushed forth over their bodies. They cried from morning till midday, "O Baal, hear us!" When they at length ceased in confusion, Elijah erected an altar of twelve stones, performed his sacrifice, and prayed in a low voice. Then a miracle followed so suddenly that all present fell on their faces and cried, "Jehovah alone is God!" A flash of lightning burnt the sacrifice and everything on the altar, even the water in the trench was dried up. Elijah determined to avenge himself on the priests of Baal, and commanded the multitude to kill them and throw their bodies into the river Kishon, which flowed hard by. Ahab, who was present, was so amazed and terror-stricken that he permitted this act of violence.