The Journal of Hebrew

Scriptures
ISSN 1203-1542

http://www.jhsonline.org and

http://purl.org/jhs

Articles in JHS are being indexed in the

ATLA Religion Database, RAMBI, and
BiBIL. Their abstracts appear in Reli-
gious and Theological Abstracts. The
journal is archived by Library and Archives
Canada and is accessible for consultation
and research at the Electronic Collection
site maintained by Library and Archives
Canada (for a direct link, click here).

Volume 11, Article 2 DOI:10.5508/jhs.2011.v11.a2

BRIAN R. DOAK,
“SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS”:
LANDLESSNESS AND PARASOCIAL LEADERSHIP IN
JUDGES

1
2 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

“SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS

FELLOWS”: LANDLESSNESS AND
PARASOCIAL LEADERSHIP IN JUDGES

BRIAN R. DOAK
HARVARD UNIVERSITY

INTRODUCTION
This essay is an attempt to explore certain aspects of three provoc-
ative tales in the book of Judges—the rise to power of Abimelek in
ch. 9 and Jephthah in ch. 11, and the actions of the landless Da-
nites in ch. 18—and to interpret these stories in light of what evi-
dence we possess regarding the existence of so-called habiru 1
groups in the 2nd millennium BCE and in light of some anthropo-
logical theory regarding the behavior of “parasocial” bands in the
formation of (at least) short-term political and military structures in
the Near East. 2 The preponderance of ideological readings of
Judges in the last 20 years may leave one with the mistaken impres-
sion that the book has value only as a kind of cultural or theological
foil, meant to demonstrate the disastrous results of violence and
power in a “backwards” ancient context. 3 As stimulating as these

1
For the sake of standardization and convenience, I have rendered
this term as “habiru” throughout the essay. The nature of the cuneiform
script could produce various permutations of this term, and thus possible
readings include ‘abiru, ‘apiru, ‫ۊ‬abiru, ‫ۊ‬apiru, ‫ې‬abiru, and ‫ې‬apiru (in Akk.
cuneiform, ‫ ې‬could represent three distinct guttural sounds, ‫ۊ‬, ‫ې‬, and ‘,
and the ab sign could also be read as ap). Although some Egyptian and
Ugaritic evidence suggests that the second consonant was a “p” and the
first letter was an ‘ayin (thus, ‘apiru), Bottéro (“̈abiru,” RLA 4, [1972], 14–
27) points to several instances where the cuneiform can only be rendered
as ‫ې‬abiru. All lines of argumentation in this regard have been met with
opposition, and there is currently no consensus on the spelling or etymol-
ogy of the term. See M. Salvini, The ‫ۏ‬abiru Prism of King Tunip–Teššup of
Tikunani (Roma: Istituti editoriali e poligrafici internazionali, 1996), 10–11;;
M. Greenberg, The ‫ۏ‬ab/piru (AOS, 39;; New Haven: American Oriental
Society, 1955), 2–11;; O. Loretz, ‫ۏ‬abiru - Hebräer: eine sozio–linguistische
Studie über die Herkunft des Gentiliziums ‘ibrî vom Appelativum habiru (BZAW
160;; Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1984), 18–88;; N.P. Lemche, “Habiru,
Hapiru,” ABD vol. 3, ed. D.N. Freedman (New York: Doubleday, 1992),
6–7;; W.H.C. Propp, Exodus 19–40 (AB, 2A;; New York: Doubleday,
2006), 748.
2 I borrow the category of the “parasocial” leader from the Assyriolo-

gist M.B. Rowton, the meaning of which is discussed in detail below.

3
See, e.g., M. Bal, Death & Dissymmetry: The Politics of Coherence in the
Book of Judges (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1988);; R. Ryan,
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 3

studies are, commentators have sometimes ignored important his-

torical and anthropological data embedded within the book of
Judges’ depiction of certain figures and institutions, which, despite
their overtly theological and legendary coloring in the present form
of the book, provide a glimpse into the chaotic world of a nation in
the process of political and social stabilization. 4
In this study, therefore, I argue that the presentation of bands
of mercenaries, brigands, landless groups, and the careers of some
pre-monarchic leaders have instructive parallels with what we know
(or may surmise) regarding the activities of habiru-like bands in the
Amarna letters, the Idrimi inscription, and other texts, and that the
activities of such groups in Syria-Palestine at the close of the 2nd
millennium are reflected in the narrative of the book of Judges. 5 It

Judges (Readings: A New Biblical Commentary;; Sheffield: Sheffield Phoe-

nix, 1997);; B.G. Webb, The Book of Judges: An Integrated Reading (JSOTSup
45;; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1987). For a collection of studies on narrative
criticism, deconstructive, structuralist, postcolonial, and gendered reading
of Judges, see the essays in Judges & Method: New Approaches in Biblical
Studies, 2nd edition, ed. G.A. Yee (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2007), and
for a study on the reception history of the book in medieval and modern
periods, see D.M. Gunn, Judges (Blackwell Bible Commentaries;; Malden,
Mass.: Blackwell, 2005).
4 In general, I follow those who, like J.A. Hackett (“’There Was No

King in Israel’. The Era of the Judges,” in The Oxford History of the Biblical
World, ed. M.D. Coogan [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998], 132–
64) and S. Niditch in her new commentary (Judges [OTL;; Louisville:
Westminster John Knox Press, 2008], 6–8), take the book of Judges se-
riously as an historical source for pre-monarchic Israel. See also the cau-
tious comments of B. Tidiman in Le Livre des Juges (Vaux-sur-Seine: Édi-
fac, 2004), 22–25, 33–39, and the still useful, though somewhat dated,
studies in Judges, Vol. III of The World History of the Jewish People, ed.
B. Mazar, esp. 129–63, and also J.A. Soggin, Judges (OTL;; London: SCM
Press, 1981), 169, who thinks that the story of Abimelek in 9:1–6 contains
“important historical information.” Other scholars still deeply concerned
with history may, of course, not see the book of Judges as (primarily)
preserving accurate memories of the pre-monarchic period;; cf. T. Römer,
The So–Called Deuteronomistic History: A Sociological, Historical and Literary
Introduction (London: T&T Clark, 2005), 136, where Römer asserts that the
period of the Judges “is nothing other than a literary invention of the
Deuteronomic school,” and M. Brettler, The Book of Judges, (Old Testament
Readings;; London: Routledge, 2002), where the book is read as a political
tract in favor of the Davidic kingship.
5 For a strong denial of the continuity between habiru and Hebrew,

see A. Rainey’s reviews of N.K. Gottwald, The Tribes of Yahweh, and O.

Loretz, ‫ۏ‬abiru–Hebräer, both in JAOS 107 (1987), 541–43 and 539–41,
respectively. Rainey’s more recent statements on the topic appear in
“Whence Came the Israelites and Their Language?,” IEJ 57 (2007), 41–64
and “Shasu or Habiru: Who Were the Early Israelites?” BAR 34/6
(2008), where Rainey asserts that the habiru-Hebrew connection is “silly,”
and the result of “absurd mental gymnastics” by “wishful thinkers who
4 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

would be something of an understatement to affirm that the ques-

tions regarding the relationship between the term “Hebrew” (ʩʸʡʲ)
and the habiru are complex and have been the occasion for pro-
found disagreement over the past century. 6 There are those who

tend to ignore the reality of linguistics.” Rainey’s basic linguistic critique,

which seems perfectly valid as far as it goes, is that the only possible root
for the 2nd millennium term is *‘-p-r, and the lack of elision of v2 in the
cuneiform examples demonstrates either v1 or v2 was long, thus nullifying
the supposed development of the stative *‘abiru > ‘Ɲber, ‘ibrî (on analogy
with Arab. malik, Phoen. milk, Akk. malku/maliku, pl. malknj);; as Rainey
points out, this linguistic argument had already been made by Borger in
1958. See Rainey’s review of Loretz, 541. Cf. F.M. Cross, From Epic to
Canon: History and Literature in Ancient Israel (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins
University Press, 1998), 69 n. 57.
One may, of course, sidestep the linguistic issue by arguing that either
the term “Hebrew” is some kind of uniquely (or imperfectly) derived
form of the word habiru that does not adhere to certain rules of conso-
nant change, or that the terms existed simultaneously in Palestine in such
a way as to facilitate their conflation on a social level. The term “Hebrew”
(ʭ/ʩʸʡʲ) appears 34 times in the HB, in 32 different verses (if one accepts
Na’aman’s emendation for 2 Sam 20:14, then 35x in 33 verses;; see his
“̈abiru and Hebrews: The Transfer of a Social Term to the Literary
Sphere,” in idem, Canaan in the Second Millennium B.C.E. [Winona Lake, Ind.:
Eisenbrauns, 2005], 262–69);; eighteen times in speaking of “the Hebrews”
in the mouths of foreigners (always Egyptians or Philistines), or spoken by
“Hebrews” as a self-identification to foreigners, or by the narrator in the
context of identifying Hebrews vis-à-vis foreigners (Gen 39:14,17;; 40:15;;
41:12;; 43:32;; Exod 1:15,16,19;; 2:6,7,11,13;; 1 Sam 4:6,9;; 13:19;; 14:11;; 29:3;;
Jon 1:9);; six times when speaking of stipulations for owning a “Hebrew”
slave (Exod 21:2;; Deut 15:12[2x], Jer 34:9[2x],14);; six times YHWH is
called “the God of the Hebrews” (Exod 3:18;; 5:3;; 7:16;; 9:1,13;; 10:3);; and
four times in other circumstances: (a) in Gen 14:13, Abram is called “Ab-
ram the Hebrew”;; (b) in 1 Sam 13:3, Saul blows a trumpet and wants all
“the Hebrews” to hear of Jonathan’s victory over the Philistines;; (c) in 1
Sam 13:7, “some Hebrews” cross the Jordan and go over to Gad and
Gilead, apparently in fear of the Philistines (?), and earlier in 1 Sam 13:6,
“the Israelites” are mentioned, suggesting that “the Hebrews” are a group
separate from “the Israelites”;; (d) in 1 Sam 29:3, the Philistines call David
and his men “Hebrews,” but Saul is then referred to as the king of
“Israel” (but cf. 1 Sam 4:6,9;; 13:19;; 14:11?);; and (e) 1 Sam 14:21 clearly
distinguishes the Hebrews from the Israelites. Thus, the Bible itself indi-
cates variation in the use of the term, suggesting confusion or tension
within the corpus over time.
6 Besides the studies of Gottwald and Mendenhall (cited below), Assy-

riologists and biblical scholars have attacked the problem from many
different angles. See, e.g., M. Liverani, “Farsi ̈abiru,” Vicino Oriente 2
(1979), 65–77;; M. Weippert, The Settlement of the Israelite Tribes in Palestine: A
Critical Survey of Recent Scholarly Debate, trans. J.D. Martin (Naperville: SCM
Press, 1971), 63–126;; Greenberg, 92;; Loretz;; R. Borger, “Das Problem der
‘apiru (‘Habiru’),” ZDVP 74 (1958), 121–32;; E. Chiera, “Habiru and
Hebrews,” The American Journal of Semitic Languages and Literatures 49/2
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 5

have, on linguistic grounds, pointed to the very real problems in

the Hebrew-habiru connection, though, as A. Kuhrt aptly argues,
the linguistic link between the two terms should have never been
the linchpin for the sociological and literary comparisons among
disaffected groups in the 14th – 12th century BCE setting. 7 Of
course, the landmark studies of G. Mendenhall and N. Gottwald
seized upon just such sociological comparisons, particularly regard-
ing the putative transformation of the habiru (or similar groups)
into Hebrews at the beginning of Israel’s existence in the hill coun-
try of Israel in the 13th – 12th centuries BCE. 8

(1933), 115–24;; R. de Vaux, “Le Problème des Hapiru après Quinze

Années,” JNES 27 (1968), 221–28;; J.C.L. Gibson, “Observations on
Some Important Ethnic Terms in the Pentateuch,” JNES 20 (1961), 217–
38;; E. Lipinski, “L’esclave hébreu,’” VT 26 (1976), 120–24;; J.L. Myres,
“The Habiru, the Hebrews, and the Arabs,” Man 47 (1947), 78–79;; J.
Wansbrough, “Gentilics and Appellatives: Notes on ȦÁbëš  Qurayš,” Bulle-
tin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London 49 (1986),
203–10;; K. Koch, “Die Hebräer vom Auszug aus Ägypten bis zum
Großreich Davids,” VT 19 (1969), 37–81.
7 See A. Kuhrt, The Ancient Near East, c. 3000—330 BC, vol. II (Rout-

ledge: London, 1995), 436: “what scholars have stressed increasingly in

recent years is that the [habirus became Hebrews] hypothesis does not
depend crucially on the linguistic link. Rather, what is important is that the
evidence for the existence of groups of social outcasts, such as the ‘api-
ru/habiru, provides the basis for a more fruitful analysis of the origins of
Israel which solves many of the problems raised by the other two ap-
proaches [i.e., conquest and “peaceful infiltration” theories] and is more
consistent with current sociological analyses. It also makes it possible to
set Israel’s development within the general context of socio-political
change in the wider world of the Near East.” Along these same lines, see
also the comments of M. Chaney, “Ancient Palestinian Peasant Move-
ments and the Formation of Premonarchical Israel,” D.N. Freedman and
D.F. Graf (eds.), Palestine in Transition: The Emergence of Ancient Israel, ed.
(Sheffield: The Almond Press, 1983), 57. Though Rainey prefers to corre-
late the early Israelites with Shasu moving out of the steppeland of Mi-
dian—a proposition that is at least equally problematic as the habiru-
Hebrew connection—he has also recently stated that, “sociologically, it
can be said that Jephthah and his militia had become like the Late Bronze
Age ‘apîru men” (A. Rainey and S. Notley, The Sacred Bridge: Carta’s Atlas of
the Biblical World [Jerusalem: CARTA Jerusalem, 2006], 140). For examples
of the complicated relationship between the way Egyptian scribes used the
designations habiru and Shasu, see, N. Na’aman, “The Town of Ibirta and
the Relations of the ‘Apiru and the Shasu,” Göttinger Miszellen 57 (1982),
27–33.
8 The prevalence of habiru elements in the 14th cen. BCE Amarna Let-

ters, combined with the decay and collapse of the LB city states in the 13th
cen. and the rise of Israel in the 13th – 12th cen., led some, including Men-
denhall and Gottwald, to correlate the withdrawal of “peasants” from
putatively oppressive Canaanite political structures with the beginning of
the formation of the Israelite tribes. See G. Mendenhall, “The Hebrew
6 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

Apparently, according to the biblical texts, bands of social

outcasts, debtors, mercenaries, and malcontents survived well into
the period of the monarchy (see 1 Sam 22:1–2;; 2 Sam 20;; 1 Kgs
11:23–24), demonstrating the fluidity with which the formal mo-
narchic structure could be adopted—or become unglued. Though
David’s rise to power and connection to gangs of brigands has
been amply studied, far less attention has been given to the appear-
ance of similar groups and phenomena in the book of Judges;; past
studies comparing habiru-like bands with groups in the Hebrew
Bible have not delved deeply enough into the details of the narra-
tives in Judges, leaving important aspects of short-term parasocial
leadership, geography, and mythic or folkloric patterns underex-
plored. 9 This essay, then, seeks to fill these gaps with a close ex-
amination of the relevant biblical materials. My argument will pro-
ceed in three parts. First, I review three stories in Judges wherein
apparently landless, peripheral actors come to occupy the main
stage of military action and power. Next, I engage with the prob-
lem of habiru bands and other disaffected groups in the ancient
Near East as a background for the final portion of the paper, where
I return to the Judges narratives in question to argue that characters
such as Abimelek and Jephthah can be instructively categorized as
parasocial leaders whose existence fits nicely within known catego-
ries of social change in the Levant. By extension, I contend, the
narrative of the book of Judges may be read as the most sustained
literary product in the ancient Near East depicting a world of habi-
ru-like actors generating political transformation.

Conquest of Palestine,” BA 25 (1962), 66–87;; N.K. Gottwald, The Tribes of

Yahweh: A Sociology of the Religion of Liberated Israel, 1250–1040 B.C.E. (Ma-
ryknoll: Orbis Books, 1979). For Mendenhall, Israel’s emergence was a
“specifically religious” phenomenon (86), and the early Israelite communi-
ties “regarded sociological factors and economic or political power as of
secondary concerns of human beings” (87), whereas, for Gottwald (pas-
sim), economic factors play the prominent role and Yahwism grows out of
the egalitarian, revolutionary nature of Israelite social and economic struc-
tures.
9 Some exceptions which have proven influential regarding my formu-

lation of this topic and the ideas presented here are L. Stager’s “The Arc-
haeology of the Family in Ancient Israel,” BASOR 260 (1985), esp. pp.
24–28, and Na’aman’s “̈abiru and   Hebrews.” See also Na’aman’s most
recent statement on the topic, “David’s Sojourn in Keilah in Light of the
Amarna Letters,” VT 60 (2010), 87–97, as well as “̈abiru–Like Bands in
the Assyrian Empire and Bands in Biblical Historiography,” JAOS 120
(2000), 621–24. Note that Liverani (“Farsi  ̈DELUX ”) was one of the first to
point out the similarity between habiru groups and some social configura-
tions in the Bible.
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 7

THREE BANDS IN JUDGES

In Judges 9, 11, and 18, we encounter three distinct narrative
scenes in which a band of mercenaries or socially peripheral indi-
viduals plays a key function. A brief examination of these scenes
will allow us a glimpse into what we will come to identify as “pa-
rasocial elements” in the rise of individual leaders in Judges, and
also provide some demonstration of the formative role these ele-
ments are said to provide in fomenting short-term, local, charismat-
ic leadership structures in the biblical narrative.

ABIMELEK’S MERCENARIES AND GAAL’S KINSMEN

Judges 9 narrates some tumultuous events in the putative three-year
pre-monarchic monarchy of Gideon’s (Jerubaal’s) son Abimelek.
The extent to which Judges chs. 8–9 attempt to present either
Gideon or Abimelek as a true “king,” a ʪʬʮ, is somewhat ambi-
guous. For example, consider the extended narrative in which
Gideon pursues the Midianites in ch. 8. After receiving no help
from the residents of Succuth and Penuel in his military quest—for
which the inhabitants of the two towns are subsequently punished
(8:16–17)—Gideon captures the Midianite kings Zebah and Zal-
munna and interrogates them regarding the whereabouts of the
men they supposedly killed at Tabor (8:18). Zebah and Zalmunna
respond by describing the appearance of the slain men: “They are
just like you, like the appearance of the sons of the king (ʪʬʮ).” 10
Indeed, the men killed at Tabor resemble Gideon physically, for, as
Gideon informs us, they were his brothers (8:19). The reference to
a ʪʬʮ in v. 18 foreshadows the request that follows upon Gideon’s
victories: in 8:22, the Israelites demand that Gideon take on a more
exalted leadership role. The repeated use of the verb ʬʹʮ (“rule”)
instead of ʪʬʮ in the demand (and in Gideon’s negative response)
only barely hides the fact that the people are asking for a hereditary,
monarch-like series of rulers in Gideon and his sons (ʪʰʡʭʢʤʺʠʭʢ
ʪʰʡʯʡʭʢ). 11
Gideon piously refuses the offer and his progeny quickly des-
cend into a struggle for ascension. The opportunist Abimelek suc-
ceeds in convincing the Shechemites that they must choose be-
tween appointing a single ruler (viz., Abimelek) or face the vicissi-
tudes of a seventy-man council of rulers (comprised of Abimelek’s
brothers) (9:2). 12 The citizens of Shechem are quick to oblige. Ab-

10
Or perhaps, “…like royalty.”
11
Note that the verb ʬʹʮ is used to describe the rule of a king in Isa
19:4.
12
ʪʬʮʩʡʠ was originally conceived as a theophoric PN (possibly “my
father [=YHWH] is king,” as correctly noted by Boling, Judges [AB 6A;;
Garden City: Doubleday], 162–63). But, as Niditch (115) points out, the
title is doubly ironic, since Abimelek cannot claim divine legitimation for
his role as king from any divine ʪʬʮ, and his human father, Gideon, had
8 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

imelek is explicitly made king (ʪʬʮ) with relatively little fanfare in

9:6, and Abimelek receives seventy pieces of silver from the local
Ba‘al Berith temple treasury. “Some worthless and reckless fellows”
(ʭʩʦʧʴʥ ʭʩʷʩʸ ʭʩʹʰʠ) 13 are promptly hired, and these individuals
presumably aid Abimelek in murdering the seventy competing
brothers in 9:5 (Jotham alone escapes the slaughter and fatally
curses Abimelek for his tactics in 9:7–20). The phrase ʭʩʷʩʸʭʩʹʰʠ
ʭʩʦʧʴʥ appears only here (in 9:4), 14 and very little is said regarding
the origin or identity of this motley band of Abimelek’s hired fol-
lowers. 15 One might suppose these mercenaries had already lived in
the vicinity and formed a private army for Abimelek at Arumah,
where we find the king dwelling at the beginning of rival bandit-
leader Gaal ben Ebed’s attempted insurrection. 16 The identity of

refused the title of ʪʬʮ. For the motif of seventy descendents elsewhere in
Judges, see 12:14. One cannot help but connect the scene here in 9:1–6
with that in 2 Kgs 10:1–7, where Ahab’s seventy sons are killed and deli-
vered over to Jehu. See also the 8th cen. BCE Panamuwwa II inscription
(KAI 215, line 3), where 70 heirs to the throne are exterminated, as
pointed out by Soggin, 168. As Na’aman, “David’s Sojourn,” 91–92, no-
tices, the phrase X ʩʬʲʡ (“lords of X”) is a decidedly negative label in the
Hebrew Bible (e.g., Judg 20:5;; Josh 24:11;; 2 Sam 21:12), and so the de-
scription of the Shechemite council as the ʭʫʹ ʩʬʲʡ in Judg 9:2,6 already
colors these figures pejoratively.
13 Soggin translates this phrase as “adventurers”;; Boling, Judges (165)

goes with “idle mercenaries,” and Niditch (112) notes that the Vaticanus
(which is Kaige in Judges) tradition has “cowardly,” which is only partially
correct, since the full reading is ¸Å»É¸ËÁ¼ÅÇÍËÁ¸À»¼ÀÂÇÍË (“empty/morally
vacant and cowardly men”). Furthermore, Niditch asserts that the Old
Latin has “fearless” here, though this reading is not clear to me;; in the
marginal notes of Brooke/McLean (The Old Testament in Greek, Vol. I Part
IV. Joshua, Judges and Ruth [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1917]), 826, the OL is listed as uagos (“vagrant, wandering, roaming”),
whereas the Ethiopic translates as “in/of the fields” (i.e., “peasants”?). At
any rate, the awkwardness in the MT—reflected by the various interpreta-
tions given in non-Hebrew traditions—is to preferred, and we will return
to some more specific possibilities for what ʭʩʷʩʸ ʭʩʹʰʠ may be below.
14
ʭʩʷʩʸ ʭʩʹʰʠ on its own appears in Judg 11:3 (discussed below) and 2
Chr 13:7, where the description is used in parallel with ʬʲʩʬʡ ʩʰʡ (“scoun-
drels,” as in Deut 13:14;; Judg 19:22, 20:13;; 1 Sam 2:12, 10:27, 25:17;; 1 Kgs
21:10,13, etc.). ʭʩʦʧʴ (“reckless ones”) occurs only here and in Zeph 3:4;;
cf. Gen 49:4 and Jer 23:32.
15 J.L. McKenzie, The World of the Judges (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Pren-

tice–Hall, 1966), 138, makes the interesting suggestion that Abimelek’s

band of hired men were remnants of a band already hired and used during
the life of his father, Gideon (see Judg 8:4).
16
Some translations (e.g., NJPS, RSV) have chosen to read the MT’s
ʤʮʸʺʡ (a hapax legomenon) in 9:31 as a reference to a location, “at Tormah”
(see also Niditch, 113), which is probably incorrect. Note that the reading
in the Lucianic and Hexaplaric traditions, ļ̸»ÑÉÑÅ (“with gifts,” which
agrees with the OL, cum muneribus), probably does not make sense here (as
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 9

Gaal and his kinsmen (ʥʩʧʠ) is also ambiguous. Are these “kins-
men” literally relatives, or do they, too, comprise some kind of
recruited army? Things end badly for both Abimelek and Gaal (and
not without the help of YHWH’s “evil spirit” in 9:23), as Gaal is
driven out of Shechem in 9:40–41 and Abimelek falls at the sword
of his servant—or so he would have us say—in 9:53–54.

JEPHTHAH’S OUTLAWS
Much could be said, and indeed much has already been writ-
ten, about the Jephthah narrative in Judges 11. Jephthah’s infamous
vow, shrewd political dealings, and musings on history and theolo-
gy all make for interesting commentary, but here we are interested
only in 11:1–3, where Jephthah’s seemingly inauspicious back-
ground is described. Because Jephthah is the son of Gilead 17 and a
prostitute (ʤʰʥʦ ʤʹʠ)—and/or because he is a ʬʩʧ ʸʥʡʢ?—his pres-
ence proves to be upsetting to the “natural” sons born of Gilead
and his unnamed wife, prompting the brothers to send Jephthah
into exile and thus shrewdly narrowing the pool of male inheri-
tors. 18 Jephthah flees to the land of Tob, where he becomes the
leader of a band of outlaws (ʭʩʷʩʸ ʭʩʹʰʠ, “worthless fellows”). 19

noted by Soggin, 187), though the agreement of the OL and the Lucianic
tradition suggests ļ̸»ÑÉÑÅ was in fact the OG reading. Vaticanus has ¼Å
ÁÉÍξ (“in secret”), which is possibly an attempt to translate ʤʮʸʺʡ as if it
were to be derived from ʺʩʮʸʺ (“deceit,” as in Jer 8:5, 14:14, Zeph 3:13;;
see G.F. Moore, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Judges [ICC;; New
York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1895], 259 n. 31) or the reading of an orig-
inal Heb. text that had ʸʺʱʡ (as in 2 Sam 12:12), which would make sense
within the narrative (i.e., Zebul does not want Gaal to find out that he is
acting subversively to overthrow Gaal as ruler of Shechem). As pointed
out by C.F. Burney, The Book of Judges (New York: Ktav Publishing House,
1970), 281 n. 31, it may be best to simply amend ʤʮʸʺʡ to ʤʮʥʸʠʡ (see
9:41). Thus, Abimelek does not travel from the mysterious Tormah to
Arumah, but rather he simply is to be found at Arumah in v. 41. See also
the thorough note, with sources, in W. Richter, Traditionsgeschichtliche
Untersuchungen zum Richterbuch (Bonn: Peter Hanstein Verlag, 1963), 255 n.
40.
17 Boling, Judges (197) thinks “Gilead” here could refer to either a per-

son named Gilead or anyone from the territory Gilead, citing Josh 17:1,3,
as does Soggin (204).
18 Soggin’s claim (204) that the explanation in v. 2 is “banal” and that

the “verse can be deleted without affecting the context” is too dismissive.
See the further analysis of Jephthah’s situation as a social and mythical
reflex of an historical pattern of (dis)inheritance in the ANE below. The
fact that Jephthah “had no patronym, and no Gileadite future,” as rightly
noted by Boling, Judges (197) is indeed important to our story.
19
Judg 11:3: ʭʩʷʩʸ ʭʩʹʰʠ ʧʺʴʩ ʬʠ ʥʨʷʬʺʩʥ. The root ʨʷʬ is only else-
where used to speak of gathering grain, with the exception of 1 Sam 20:38
and Gen 47:14 (where objects are gathered up like grain). See Exod
16:4,17,21, Lev 19:9, 23:22, Num 11:8, 2 Kgs 4:39, Ruth 2:2,3,16,17. Thus,
10 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

Jephthah’s merry men promptly form an apparently self-sustaining

community of bandits;; the force of the verb ʠʶʩ in the phrase ʥʠʶʩʥ
ʥʮʲ, “they went out with him” (11:3), would seem to imply that
“they went out raiding/pillaging with him.” 20 As the story goes, the
elders of Gilead beg Jephthah to come back, and Jephthah returns
from Tob to become “head” (ʹʠʸ) of the Gileadites in their strug-
gle against the Ammonites (11:4–11);; 21 after a lengthy speech
(11:12–27) and the ill–fated vow (resulting in the sacrifice of his
own daughter), Jephthah leads the people to victory. The tale then
comes to a rather ignominious end, culminating in the inter-tribal
war between Gilead and Ephraim and Jephthah’s unremarkable
death (12:1–7).

THE LANDLESS DANITE MOB

Judges 18 opens by briefly describing a strange situation concerning
the tribe of Dan. 22 After the narrator informs us that there was no
king in Israel during those troublesome times, 23 we find out that

ʥʨʷʬʺʩʥ may hint at something of the power of Jephthah’s leadership abili-

ties in such a situation, i.e., these socially peripheral individuals were
quickly gathered, like sheaves of grain, into Jephthah’s orbit (though it is
not clear that these individuals represented “the dregs of society,” as
asserted by Boling, Judges, 197). Vaticanus translates ʭʩʷʩʸ ʭʩʹʰʠ here fairly
literally (¸Å»É¼ËÁ¼ÅÇÀ, as in 9:4 above), but it is interesting to note that the
OL has latrones (“mercenary soldiers”) and another Greek manuscript
(cursive w, Athens, Bibl. Nat. 44) has ¾Ê̸À (“robbers, bandits,” or even
“revolutionaries, insurrectionists”).
20
So NRSV. Boling (Judges, 196) simply translates: “They went with
him.” To be sure, more common (and specific) terminology for raiding
parties and plundering in the HB includes the verbs ʣʣʢ (ʣʥʣʢ, “raiding
party,” as in 1 Sam 30:15,23;; 2 Sam 4:2;; 2 Kgs 6:23), ʨʹʴ (strip, raid;; see
Judg 9:33, 20:37;; 1 Sam 27:8;; Job 1:17;; 1 Chr 14:9–13, 25:13), ʦʦʡ, ʬʬʹ, etc.
But compare the use of ʠʶʩ in military contexts in, e.g., Gen 14:8;; Exod
17:9;; Num 1:3;; Deut 20:1,10, 24:5, 28:7, 29:6;; Josh 11:4;; Judg 2:15, 5:4,
20:20;; 1 Sam 18:30, 19:8, 29:6;; 2 Sam 11:1, 18:2,6;; 2 Kgs 19:9;; Isa 37:9;;
Amos 5:3, etc., and also Phoenician yˋ’, “to march out,” as in a military
expedition: nˋʾt   ’t   sby   hyˋ’m   w‘zrnm, “I defeated my enemies who came
forth (to fight me) and their allies” (C.R. Krahmalkov, Phoenician-Punic
Dictionary [Studia Phoenicia XV;; Leuven: Peeters, 2000]), 213. Cf. BDB,
422.
21 As noticed by V. Matthews, Judges & Ruth (NCBC;; Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press, 2004), 118, the elders first offer to make
Jephthah their ʯʩʶʷ (war chief or military commander), but after the initial
refusal, Jephthah’s promised status is upgraded to ʹʠʸ, a more exalted
title.
22 Note that Dan is called a “clan” (ʤʧʴʹʮ) in Judg 13:2.
23
This narrative device also appears in Judg 17:6, 19:1, and 21:25, and
reminds us that, in the present form of the book, the narratives concen-
trated in chs. 17–21 are associated with the pressing issue of kingship—a
need already expressed in the story of Gideon and Abimelek in chs. 8–9.
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 11

“in those days the Danite tribe was looking for a permanent territo-
ry for itself in which to dwell, since, up until that time, no territory
had come to them among the (other) tribes of Israel.” 24 The Danite
solution to this problem sounds familiar to the story told in Josh
19:40–47, though the form that appears in Judges is more detailed.
Here, the Danites send five individuals to spy out prospective land.
Having set their sights on Laish, a spacious, rich, isolated, and vul-
nerable territory (18:7,10), the Danites muster a six-hundred man
mob (18:11), 25 kidnap Micah’s Levite priest (18:5–20), and annihi-
late the inhabitants of Laish (18:27). The area is then renamed
“Dan,” “after their ancestor, Dan” (18:29). Why we need to be told
the reason for the Danites naming the territory “Dan”—the ratio-
nale for the name would seem obvious, and no other such explana-
tion is given for the naming of any other tribal territory—is a bit of
a mystery. 26
If we look only to the biblical materials, then it is difficult to
determine why it is that the tribe of Dan does not have a landhold-
ing like the other tribes. 27 At first glance, Dan would seem to fall
regularly into Israel’s history with its own normally allotted place in
the lists of tribes;; the eponym Dan is the son of Rachel’s maid,
Bilhah, in Gen 30:4–6, and Dan is mentioned in the putatively
archaic blessings of Gen 49:16–17 and Deut 33:22. The name of
the Danite tribe made its way into the stereotyped geographical
formulation “from Dan to Beersheba” 28 and Dan is the site of one
of Jeroboam’s reviled golden calves and cult-sites in 1 Kgs 12:29–
30. In the census of Numbers 1, Dan (1:38–39) proves to have the
second most fighting men (behind Judah), and in the list of en-
campments in Num 2:31, the camp of Dan was to set out last in

On the role of kingship and leadership more generally in Judges, see Y.

Amit, The Book of Judges: The Art of Editing, trans. J. Chipman (Leiden: Brill,
1999), esp. 59–117.
24 Cf. Judg 1:34, where it is said that the Amorites had denied the Da-

nites access to the ʷʮʲ, thus forcing them into the hill country.
25
The number 600 is a schematic representation of a decently sized
fighting force, especially for relatively small–scale operations;; see Judg
3:31, 20:47;; 1 Sam 13:15,14:2,23:13, 27:2, 30:9;; 2 Sam 15:18.
26 But see the explanation given by M. Garsiel, Biblical Names: A Lite-

rary Study of Midrashic Derivations and Puns ((Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan Universi-
ty, 1991), 69–70.
27 See the very good note in Moore, 387 n. 1.
28
Judg 20:1;; 1 Sam 3:20;; 2 Sam 3:10, 17:11, 24:2,15;; 1 Kgs 5:5;; “Beer-
sheba to Dan” in 1 Chr 21:2 and 2 Chr 30:5. This formula need not imply
that the territory of Dan was fixed at an early date, but may rather point to
the religious significance of the location when the phrase was fixed, as
pointed out by N. Wazana, All the Boundaries of the Land: The Promised Land
in Biblical Thought in Light of the Ancient Near East [Hebrew] (Jerusalem:
Bialik Institute, 2007), esp. ch. 2. I came to this study by way of the review
by S.E. Holtz, RBL 09/2008 (accessed online at
http://www.bookreviews.org).
12 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

the order or marching regiments (see also Num 10:25). Perhaps

most interesting, and most pertinent for our problem, is the ma-
terial in Joshua 19. When lots are cast to determine tribal landhold-
ings in Joshua 18–19, Dan receives the seventh lot in 19:40. Inex-
plicably, however, Josh 19:47 laconically reports that the territory
of Dan “went out (ʠʶʩ) from them” (= was stolen?) .To regain the
land, Dan is said to have marched over to Lashem (not Laish, as in
Judges 18), annihilating the inhabitants of the city and renaming the
territory “Dan,” “after the name of their ancestor, Dan” (just as in
Judg 18:29).
It hardly seems plausible (from either an historical or literary
standpoint) that the Danites would find themselves without land
twice, and be forced to exterminate the inhabitants of two different
cities. 29 To be sure, such variances between Joshua and Judges are
not unknown elsewhere—see the admissions of defeat in Judg
1:19–36, as opposed to the impression of total victory in given in
Joshua 12, and the like. In fact, in Judg 1:34 we are told that the
Amorites forced the Danites back into the hill country, and this
explanation is perhaps meant to provide the bridge over to the
situation that occurs in Judges 18. The author of Judg 2:20–23
seems to make a theological virtue of historical necessity on a much
grander scale, claiming that YHWH had voluntarily decided not to
drive out the inhabitants of the land (due to the peoples’ sin, no
doubt [2:1–3:6]). The problem with the Deuteronomistic explana-
tion in Judg 1:34 is even more apparent when we realize the author
of Judges 18 betrays no knowledge of the putatively earlier situa-
tion in either Joshua 19 or Judg 1:34. 30 The Danites must seek out

29
Both Laish and Lashem have a ʬ and a ʹ in the name, though it is
not certain whether textual errors have artificially obscured the identity of
one of the names (i.e., that they were originally identical).
30
I assume, with the majority of commentators, that the theological
framework in Judg 1–3:6, as well as various other statements in the book,
are Deuteronomic additions to an earlier core of materials. For a summary
discussion of these issues, see, e.g., the essays in G.N. Knoppers and J.G.
McConville (eds.), Reconsidering Israel and Judah: Recent Studies on the Deutero-
nomistic History (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2000), esp. 112–259;; R.
Boling, “Judges, Book of,” ABD, vol. 3, ed. D.N. Freedman (New York:
Doubleday, 1992), esp. 1115–16;; Niditch, 10–11;; Römer 1–44 (where the
history of a “Deuteronomistic History” is nicely reviewed). At any rate,
the story in ch. 9 shows no obvious trace of Deuteronomistic activity (J.
Gray, at least, sees two pre-Deuteronomic strands in Judg 9:1–27;; see
Joshua, Judges and Ruth [London: Nelson, 1967], 97), whereas the stories in
chs. 11 and 18 are thought to bear Deuteronomistic influence. See A.F.
Campbell and M.A. O’Brien, Unfolding the Deuteronomistic History: Origins,
Upgrades, Present Text [Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2000], 189, 197, 207.
For Judges 9 specifically, cf. E. Jans, Abimelech und sein Königtum: Diachrone
und synchrone Untersuchungen zu Ri 9 (St. Ottilien: EOS Verlag, 2001). For M.
Noth’s important statement on DtrH as a whole, see
Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien. Die sammelnden und bearbeitenden
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 13

land, and indeed, as the narrator explicitly states in 18:1, they had
not even been given an allotment in the first place.

PARASOCIAL GROUPS AND THE HABIRU

PHENOMENA
The three preceding stories from the book of Judges all prominent-
ly demonstrate the presence and decisive impact of socially disaf-
fected individuals and groups. In the Gideon and Jephthah narra-
tives, we read of individuals who rely on bands of supporters who
appear, at least at first glance, to be mercenaries or socially peri-
pheral elements (perhaps criminals or outcasts of some kind), and
the story in Judges 18 presents an entire segment of Israel’s core
tribal configuration, the tribe of Dan, in a state of wandering lan-
dlessness. For our purposes here, it will be useful to characterize
the propertyless or mercenary elements in these three stories with
the phrase “parasocial groups,” a description first proposed for
various elements of ancient Near Eastern society (including the
habiru) over thirty years ago by M.B. Rowton. 31 It must be clearly
noted at the outset that our use of the term “parasocial” in this
context is not to be confused with the use of the same term in the
field of social-psychology, though there are possibly some interest-
ing (albeit nebulous) points of contact between modern psycholog-
ical studies of parasocial interaction and our material at hand. In
current sociological and psychological discourse, “parasocial inte-
raction” describes a pattern of correspondence in which an indi-
vidual treats a “mediated representation of a person” (e.g., an image
on a computer or television screen) as if the person him/herself

Geschichtswerke im Alten Testament, 3rd ed. (first published in 1943;;

Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1967). According to Bol-
ing, Judges (258), the Danite migration is a Deuteronomic device, “pre-
sented as the providential solution to the problem of Micah’s establish-
ment” (that is to say, retribution for the idolatry of Micah and his house-
hold in ch. 17). See also E.A. Mueller, The Micah Story: A Morality Tale in the
Book of Judges (Studies in Biblical Literature 34;; New York: Peter Lang,
2001), 76, 125.
31
See M.B. Rowton, “Dimorphic Structure and the Parasocial Ele-
ment,” JNES 36 (1977), 181–98;; “Dimorphic Structure and the Problem
of the ‘apiru–‘ibrim,” JNES 35 (1976), 13–20. The former article, where
the “parasocial” label is first proposed, is the thirteenth in a series of
sixteen essays exploring the issue of dimorphism and the interaction be-
tween tribal and urban society in the ancient Near East;; see the full list of
essays in “Dimorphic Structure and Topology,” Oriens Antiquus 15 (1976),
17–18, n. 4. The viability of Rowton’s characterization of the “parasocial
element” has been affirmed more recently by J.D. Schloen in “The Exile
of Disinherited Kin in KTU 1.12 and KTU 1.23,” JNES 52 (1993), 210,
though there have been very few studies that use Rowton’s terminology
for understanding biblical texts.
14 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

were actually present in the representation. 32 In our use of “paraso-

cial” here, the “para-” element may indicate a position “from the
side of,” or “outside of,” or originating from the periphery of, what
one might see as the “normal,” organized social sphere. 33 In the
spirit of the Greek ȸɸ, we may also invest the term “parasocial”
with another nuance appropriate to our three passages in Judges,
viz., para- can denote a person or direction from which action pro-
ceeds, or indicate one who originates or directs social change. In-
deed, even a cursory reading of Gideon’s or Jephthah’s actions
reveals a parasocial leader as the mediator of change, who conveys
a message or action or socio-political arrangement between two
parties. This element of mediation combined with placelessness is
essential to Rowton’s definition of “parasocial,” of which more
must be said later. 34

THE 2ND MILLENNIUM HABIRU PHENOMENA

Before proceeding to a deeper examination of the origins and func-
tion of parasocial movements in Judges, some space must be de-
voted to understanding the rise and significance of one such prom-
inent parasocial group in the ancient Near East, the so-called habi-
ru groups in Mesopotamia and Syria-Palestine in the 2nd millen-
nium. Indeed, any discussion of parasocial elements in the Levant
must be based, to some extent, on a proper assessment of the
scholarly progress made over the past century in elucidating the
origin and function of individuals/groups characterized as “habiru”

32
See the early study of D. Horton and R.R. Wohl, “Mass communi-
cation and para-social interaction: Observation on intimacy at a distance,”
Psychiatry 19 (1956), 215–229, and the more recent work of S. Rafaeli,
“Interacting with Media: Para-Social Interaction and Real Interaction,” in
B. D. Ruben and L. A. Lievrouw (eds.), Mediation, Information, and Communi-
cation: Information and Behavior (vol. 3, New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction
Press, 1990), 125–81, as well as the discussion and other sources cited in
E. Schiappa, P. Gregg, Peter, and D. Hewes, “The Parasocial Contact
Hypothesis” (paper presented at the annual meeting of the International
Communication Association, New Orleans Sheraton, New Orleans, LA,
May 27, 2004), http://www.allacademic.com/meta/p112503_index.html,
accessed 10/9/08 and C. Nass and S. Shyam Sundar, “Is Human–
Computer Interaction Social or Parasocial?” (published online, 1994),
http://www.stanford.edu/group/commdept/oldstuff/srct_pages/Social–
Parasocial.html, accessed 10/9/08).
33 The assumption of a “normative,” static social sphere—against

which one may define abnormal, parasocial groups—is admittedly an

oversimplification.
34
In “Dimorphic Structure and the Parasocial Element,” Rowton
(181) characterizes the parasocial element as one aspect of an “uprooted
social element of tribal as well as urban origin…It is not easy to define
that social element with precision. It had one foot in tribal society, the
other in urban society, and did not fully belong either to one or the other.
In a sense it is both peripheral and intermediate between the two…”
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 15

in the cuneiform record. In what follows, then, I will not provide a

radically new view of any particular aspect of the habiru phenome-
na, but rather, I attempt to give a précis of the important aspects of
the debate toward illuminating a connection between the behavior
of such parasocial groups and the appearance of certain kinds of
stories and descriptions in Judges.
The West Semitic designation ˀab/piru first came to modern
scholarly attention in 1888, when the Amarna Letters were discov-
ered. H. Winckler was quick to identify the habiru specifically with
people in the Amarna letters designated logographically as
SA.GAZ, 35 but later discoveries soon showed that references to the
habiru were to be found in many 2nd millennium ancient Near
Eastern texts. Over 250 sources mention the habiru, 36 and the
habiru phenomena seems to have died out at the end of the 2nd
millennium BCE. Geographically, references have been found from
Egypt (the last references to contemporary habiru are from Ramses
IV, c. 1166–60 BCE) 37 to Anatolia, Iran, and Sumer. The habiru
first appear in texts from the Assyrian trading outpost at Kanesh
(19th century BCE), where they are prisoners or palace staff mem-
bers, but it is impossible to say whether the habiru were considered
part of the local population or Assyrians. 38 Some texts explicitly
presented the habiru as outlaws, such as at Mari, where they were
considered a serious problem and even conquered an entire city, 39
while other OB sources portray habiru as mercenaries or depen-
dents of some kind. 40 At Nuzi, the term is most frequent in private
contracts where the habiru has no firm juridical status and must
bind himself to a citizen of Nuzi for service.41 In Alalakh, the habi-

35
“Die Hebräer in den Tel-Amarna-Briefen,” in Semitic Studies in Mem-
ory of Ref. Dr. Alexander Kohut (Berlin: S. Calvary & Co., 1897), 605–09;; on
the SA.GAZ logogram, see also Greenberg, 88–90.
36
Most passages are listed and translated in Greenberg, 15–60.
37
Ibid., 56–57, and the brief reference in Propp, 748.
38
Lemche, 7.
39
Greenberg, 18. Na’aman (“̈abiru   and   Hebrews”) discusses several
Mari letters that seem to illuminate the habiru in an interesting way. In
ARM 14.50, a certain Ami-ibal is accused of being a deserter, but claims
to have migrated (ˀbr) away from his homeland because of an invading
army, and had only recently returned. ARM 14.72 presents the case of
Addu-šarrum, who is accused of defecting from the Babylonian army after
his troops came to Mari, but Addu-sharrum claims he was actually a habi-
ru, i.e., a voluntary migrant (defection is a crime, migration is not).
Na’aman (“̈abiru   and   Hebrews,” 256–57) thus claims to differentiate
between the terms munnabtum and habiru;; the former term is more general,
and denotes “various types of runaways, even slaves who ran away from
their masters,” while the latter “were regarded as migrants” and thus not
criminals.
40 See Salvini, 10–11.
41
The role of the habiru as “client” may have come to dominate the
meaning of the term in some time periods and regions. In From Epic to
16 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

ru are portrayed as foreigners or even outlaws, as in the Idrimi text,

where Idrimi claims to have spent seven years living with the habi-
ru (discussed further below).
Over a century of research on the topic has shown that it is
probably unwise to correlate the habiru with a single social status,
ethnicity, or label for all regions throughout the 2nd millennium. 42
Though the term was initially thought to be solely an ethnic designa-
tion, the Egyptologist W. Spiegelberg long ago suggested the habiru
were a social entity, viz. nomads living in the Syrian desert and Sy-
ro–Palestine. 43 The social nature of the term was confirmed by B.
Landsberger and J. Bottéro, who translated “habiru” as “fugitives”
or “refugees”;; 44 the Sumerian SA.GAZ (SAG.GAZ, GAZ) is most
likely the equivalent of the Akk. šaggÁšu(m), “murderer” (or, it is
simply translated into Akk. as ˀabbÁtu(m), “brigand”), and most
Assyriologists currently consider “habiru” as a social designation
for fugitives who lived outside their home states, and/or outlaws
who lived in bands of brigands. Whether and when “habiru” was
ever a purely ethnic designation is unclear, but the term certainly
comes to be a pejorative social marker for those who are refugees,
fugitives, and outlaws. Those who escaped from debt slavery (ei-
ther illegally or through a release edict) may have comprised a large
portion of the habiru, and the large number of petty states in the
LB age may have contributed to habiru-like bands, since criminals
or debt–slaves could easily escape to nearby, yet distinct, political
entities for asylum from their captives. Many treaties of the Late
Bronze age attest to a growing phenomenon of refugees and esca-
pees, as many such documents provide for extradition of habiru
elements. 45 Other reasons for becoming a habiru may have been

Canon (69 n. 57), Cross argues that “‘apiru means ‘client,’ or ‘member of
the client class.’” In Weberian terminology (M. Weber, Ancient Judaism,
trans. H.G. Gerth and D. Martindale [New York: The Free Press, 1952],
32–36) it is the metic (resident alien in the Greek city states), i.e., the ger (ʸʢ)
that plays the role of the client, the foreigner who has no rights and who
attaches himself to a patron for provision and legal protection.
42 See Chaney, 79: “The Amarna ‘apiru are better served by recognition

of…intrinsic ambiguity than by attempts to force them into a straightjack-

et of political, social, or lexicographical consistency.” This statement could
be applied to habiru in most texts and time periods.
43 “Der Name der Hebräer,” OLZ 10 (1907), 618–20.
44 See Bottéro, Le Problème, 160.
45 Documents from Ugarit and Anatolia attest to the status of habiru

as either foreigners or brigands, and a treaty between the kings of Ugarit

and the Hittites mentions an agreement to “extradite citizens who have
deserted their own state to seek refuge in territories known as
ˀabiru/ˀapiru land. Such entities in the political treaties become quite
frequent in this period;; the phenomenon testifies to a growing concern
because of the increasing number of persons who chose to live as
ˀabiru/ˀapiru” (Lemche, 8).
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 17

wars, natural disasters, famine, prolonged military service, or any

other social catastrophe. 46
The Amarna letters provide the most important evidence of
the habiru (comprising nearly half of all known references to the
group), at least concerning their activity in Syria-Palestine. 47 Two
schools of thought have emerged regarding the habiru in the
Amarna texts. Most argue that the status and activity of the habiru
were similar to those of habiru elsewhere in the ancient Near East.
In favor of this argument is the fact that references to the habiru
indicate they are concentrated in certain territories, mostly around
mountainous regions, and thus the habiru comprise a distinct, re-
cognizable group. Others, however, argue the term is used in the
Amarna letters as a pejorative label for social outcasts and for those
who stand in opposition to the Egyptian government in the re-
gion. 48 This latter option has the advantage of explaining the fact
that the Amarna Letters refer to habiru not as fugitives or foreign-
ers per se, but rather as members of rival states, or heads of those
rival states;; thus, the author of the letters simply sees the habiru as
enemies, or wishes to portray them as outlaws. An Egyptian text
from the 14th century references an Egyptian military campaign
against habiru living around Beth-Shan (ANET3, 255), and the
sheer number of references to the habiru in the Amarna texts
would seem to indicate that the habiru phenomena was widespread
and significant. 49
These references to habiru in the Amarna texts (most of
which were written during the reign of Amenhotep IV, c. 1353–36
BCE) are particularly revealing regarding the extent to which the

46 Na’aman, “̈abiru  and  Hebrews,” 253.

47
See Moran, The Amarna Letters (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Uni-
versity Press, 1992). The term ‘Apiru (as Moran transliterates it) appears
about 104 times, in 53 different letters (listed here by EA number): 67:17;;
68:18;; 71:21,29;; 73:29,33;; 74:29,36;; 75:10,27;; 76:18;; 77:24,29;; 79:10,20;;
81:13;; 82:9;; 83:17;; 85:41,73,78;; 87:21;; 88:34;; 90:25;; 91:5,24;; 104:54;;
111:21;; 112:46;; 116:38;; 117:58,94;; 118:38;; 121:21;; 130:38;; 132:21;;
144:26,30;; 148:43,45;; 179:22;; 185 (passim);; 186 (passim);; 189 rev. 11,17–8;;
195:27;; 197:4,11,30;; 207:21;; 215:15;; 243:20;; 246 rev. 7;; 254:34;; 271:16;;
272:17;; 273:14,19;; 274:13;; 286:19,56;; 287:31;; 288:38;; 289:24;; 290:13,24;;
298:27;; 299:18,24,26;; 305:22;; 313:6;; 318:11. For studies of the habiru in
the Amarna letters, see, e.g., Greenberg, 32–49;; Bottéro, Le Problème, 85–
118;; shorter studies include W.F. Albright and W. Moran, “Rib-Adda of
Byblos and the Affairs of Tyre (EA 89),” JCS 4 (1950), 163–68;; G. Men-
denhall, “The Hebrew Conquest of Palestine,” BA 25.3 (1962), 66–87;; W.
Moran, “Join the ‘Apiru or Become One?,” D.M. Golomb and S.T. Hollis
(eds.), “Working with No Data”: Semitic and Egyptian Studies Presented to Tho-
mas O. Lambdin (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns), 209–12.
48
See, e.g., G. Mendenhall, The Tenth Generation: The Origins of the Bibli-
cal Tradition (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1973), 122–
41, and Liverani, “Farsi ̈DELUX.”
49 As also noted by Lemche, 8.
18 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

habiru were perceived as a powerful military and social force. Many

different local rulers complain of imminently threatening habiru
activities, such as Rib-Hadda, who is constantly worried that every-
one is “joining” the habiru (e.g., EA 68:18), 50 or that all of his
towns have joined the habiru and are now hostile to his rulership
(116:38) (a similar complaint is made by Zimreddi of Sidon in
144:26). The gravity of the habiru threat comes through not just in
the claims of the Syro-Palestinian vassals, but also in a list of cap-
tured cities mentioned by Mayarzana of ̈asi (185). The habiru
were apparently not simply a Gutianesque marauding force, but
rather were open to negotiation and persuasion. Effort was ex-
pended to “gather together” or rally habiru forces (85:78;; ‘Abdi-
Aširta is accused of rallying habiru in 74:23–30), and at least two
letters (104:54, 298:27) demonstrate that covenants and deals were
made with the habiru, implying some organized, formal leadership
structure among these bands with which one might negotiate. Oth-
er references indicate that the habiru could be hired (112:46), and
the sons of a certain Labayu—who apparently created an auto-
nomous kingdom for himself, with habiru aid (289.24), based out
of Shechem—were accused of hiring habiru (246 rev. 7, 287:31)
(though Labayu claims not to have known of such activities in
254:34).

DETRIBALIZATION AND PARASOCIAL GROUPS

In the work of M.B. Rowton we find a fascinating and pro-
vocative attempt to understand the 2nd millennium habiru pheno-
mena as part of a broad pattern of social and topographical change
in Syria-Palestine and the ancient Near East generally. Rowton’s
main interest is to explore the manner in which parasocial elements
arise not just from the collapse of urban structures, or from the
frustration of urban outcasts (pace Mendenhall, et al.), but also from
de-tribalized elements of a society. Old alliances can dissolve and
new tribes can coalesce in conditions of major societal disruption
and discontinuity. The communal associations formed during such
times can be rather fluid;; legends form quickly, leaders rise and fall
on the waves of volatile sentiments, as can entire states. A fascinat-
ing example of the rapidity with which parasocial leaders can take
power and of the speed with which legends can form around their

50 EA and line numbers here refer to Moran’s edition. See also Mo-

ran’s short article, “Join the ‘Apiru or Become One?” in D.M. Golomb
(ed.), Working with No Data: Semitic and Egyptian Studies Presented to Thomas
O. Lambdin, Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1987), 209–12, where Mo-
ran takes up the problem of translating the oft–repeated phrase nenpušu
ana (SA.)GAZ(.MEŠ) in the letters. Though some have suggested the
expression is an Egyptianism, meaning “to be transformed into/become
an habiru,” Moran affirms his translation “to be joined to/gained for the
habiru.”
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 19

actions is given by Rowton regarding a certain Bacha Saqqao, “Son

of a Water–carrier.” When the actions of pre–WWII Afghani lead-
er Amanullah Khan (ruled 1919–1929) created “profound tribal
unrest,” Bacha Saqqao seized upon the situation and garnered tribal
support, capturing the throne and ruling for nine months as “king
Habibullah.” Less than a generation after Bacha Saqqao died, lite-
rary accounts of his insurrection had already embellished his ac-
tions into tribal legend. 51
For Rowton, habiru bands are best described in terms of de-
tribalization, though it should be duly noted that this dichotomy
between tribal and urban (non-tribal) societies is often over-
drawn. 52 However, one may easily overlook the fact that, in Row-
ton’s analysis (and to his credit), reintegration of the supposed detri-
balized elements is also an important part of the detribalization
scheme, thus mitigating the stark contrast that would seem to be
drawn between “tribal” and “non-tribal” groups. 53 Rowton’s un-

51 Rowton, “Dimorphic Structure and the Parasocial Element,” 193,

and L. Duprée, Afghanistan (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1973),

120, 452 (cited by Rowton).
52 A better evaluation of the Iron Age data is given in L. Marfoe’s im-

portant article, “The Integrative Transformation: Patterns of Sociopoliti-

cal Organization in Southern Syria,” BASOR 234 (1979), 1–42. For Mar-
foe (35), “culture change should not be seen so much in terms of ‘breaks’
and ‘continuities’ as in shifts in balance between dynamic social sys-
tems…change should not be viewed as alternation between phases of
static equilibrium, each characterized by a dominant sociopolitical struc-
ture, but in terms of sociopolitical organisms composed of small units,
which are continually changing and which are tied politically by a variety
of elastic sociocultural bonds.” The putatively fluid transfer of allegiance
from city state to habiru bands in the Amarna period (hinted at above,
and noted by Marfoe, 9) provides a good example of the shifts and bal-
ances that could influence sociopolitical power at the end of the LB pe-
riod. See also Rowton’s comments to this effect in “Dimorphic Structure
and Topology,” 29–30, and the modern anthropological study of P.C.
Salzman, Culture and Conflict in the Middle East (Amherst, N.Y.: Humanity
Books, 2008), 176–97.
53 See Rowton, “Dimorphic Structure and the Parasocial Element,”

pp. 183–90. For a brief critique of Rowton’s tribal/non-tribal dichotomy,

see J.D. Schloen, “The Exile of Disinherited Kin,” 210. The implications
of this dichotomy have been felt in the study of the emergence of Israel’s
monarchy, where it is sometimes assumed that “alien,” “pagan” monar-
chic structures intruded upon pristine tribal life and disrupted tribal socio-
political structures. See e.g., a typical statement of G. Mendenhall (Ancient
Israel’s Faith and History: An Introduction to the Bible in Context, ed. G.A. He-
rion [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001], 103–04): “The
centralization of political control was facilitated by a process we might call
‘sacred politics’…a religious value system that had once provided a basis
for unity among a large group of diverse people from different tribes and
clans was disappearing, being replaced by a more cynical attitude that only
the political monopoly of force could coerce people into uniformly ‘cor-
20 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

derlying insistence, it seems, is simply that there were indeed im-

portant differences between urban and rural life, and that parasocial
leaders act as mediators between those who existed as ill-defined
fringe elements in newly constituted parasocial tribal structures and
urbanites whose political control, while not completely non-tribal
and not unconnected to rural zones, stands in tension with paraso-
cial elements and their leaders. “Parasocial element” is thus a kind
of shorthand for tribal society in flux, and the parasocial leader is
the genius of capitalizing upon socio-political change. 54
Taking up some of Rowton’s themes, N. Na’aman has ob-
served that what is “common to all the people designated as
‘̈abiru’ is the fact that they were uprooted from their original polit-
ical and social framework and forced to adapt to a new environ-
ment.” 55 Economically disenfranchised tribal members (even in
sedentary communities) are often willing to leave the tribe to find
work and food elsewhere, forming small bands (often with a mostly
egalitarian structure, but perhaps with a single, strong leader) that
then commit predatory acts. Na’aman claims these bands would
have subsequently become “mainstream,” in a sense, and settled
down with families, etc., and even re-tribalized themselves or en-
tered into the service of a larger state. “In general,” Na’aman con-
cludes, “the phenomenon of the ̈abiru can be described as a circu-
lar process, one in which people were uprooted from the society in
which they were born, lived for a while as foreigners in another
country, and then were absorbed into their new environment.” 56
Moreover, as Stager has pointed out, we need not imagine all of the
seemingly disaffected militants of the Iron Age as rebellious “pea-
sants.” Social and agricultural conditions in the rapidly closing fron-
tier of the pre-monarchic period hill country were such that even
younger sons of prominent, wealthy families may have run into
significant troubles in securing free land and property for them-
selves vis-à-vis the strict implementation of primogeniture laws in

rect’ behavior,” so that religious values under the monarchy merely “legi-
timized the new political order.” Cf. the more nuanced views in Stager,
“The Archaeology of the Family,” 24–28 and sources cited therein. There
was nothing inevitable about Israel’s transition to having a full-time ʪʬʮ
(as noted by A.D.H. Mayes, Judges [Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985], 89) and
one does not need a precipitous decline in pure YHWHism to account for
change in ancient Israel.
54 In Rowton’s words, “during their formative period, for at least a few

generations…[newcomers to the re-integrated tribal structure] would

hardly amount to genuine tribes. At their inception most would be little
more than a band, often a predatory band, the larger groups a tribal rabble
of heterogeneous splinter groups and individual families” (Rowton, “Di-
morphic Structure and the Parasocial Leader,” 183–84, 192). In these
situations, the parasocial leader becomes an important figure.
55 Na’aman, “̈abiru  and  Hebrews,” 253.
56 Ibid., 255.
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 21

such families. 57 Some of these aggressive “soldiers of fortune”—

which Stager compares to the juventus of 12th century CE France—
may have had their roots in powerful families and clans, but their
status within the family made bands of young men (such as the one
rallied by David in 1 Sam 22:2) an attractive option for the acquisi-
tion of wealth in a situation wherein certain individuals were denied
the benefits of inheritance, either by reason of their age-rank
among the sons of the family or some other reason. 58

RE-EXAMINING JUDGES 9, 11, AND 18 AS

DEPICTIONS OF LEVANTINE PARASOCIAL
GROUPS
I am now prepared to return to Judges 9, 11, and 18 and offer
some comments regarding the affinities between parasocial groups
and the situation of Abimelek, Jephthah, and the Danites summa-
rized earlier. To begin, we might reconsider the meaning of the
interesting phrase ʭʩʷʩʸ ʭʩˇʰʠ (translated tentatively as “worthless
fellows” above) in both the story of Abimelek and Jephthah. 59
Here, the plural adjective ʭʩʷʩʸ (from ʷʩʸ, [physically] “empty”)
may indeed carry the adjectival and nominal meaning of “worth-
lessness,” “vanity,” “a trifling matter,” and so on—a somewhat
idiomatic force that can be found in many other passages where the
term is used. 60 However, in Judg 9:4 and 11:3 we should read the
designation as something more concrete, reflecting the literal force
of ʷʩʸ: 61 ʭʩʷʩʸ ʭʩʹʰʠ = “empty men,” i.e., landless, or unemployed
men. 62 For this meaning, one may compare ʷʩʸ with the Akk. râqu,

57 Stager, “The Archaeology of the Family,” 25–27. Cf. the comments

of Chaney, 71–73, who prefers to see habiru-like activity (especially in the

Amarna letters) as part of a broader paradigm of “social banditry” among
the mobile contingents of peasant society. For this analysis, Chaney points
to the following studies of E.J. Hobsbawn: Primitive Rebels: Studies in Arc-
haic Forms of Social Movement in the 19th and 20th Centuries (New York: Norton,
1965);; Bandits (New York: Delacorte, 1969);; “Social Banditry,” H.A.
Landsberger (ed.) Rural Protest: Peasant Movements and Social Change (New
York: Barnes & Noble, 1973).
58
Stager, “The Archaeology of the Family,” 26–27. Regarding the
comparison with the 12th cen. French juventus, note that Stager relies on
the work of G. Duby in The Chivalrous Society, trans. C. Postan (Berkeley:
University of California, 1980).
59 As noted earlier, in Judg 9:4 the full phrase is ʭʩʦʧʴʥʭʩʷʩʸʭʩʹʰʠ.
60 See, e.g., Lev 26:20;; Deut 32:47;; Isa 30:7;; Isa 30:7, 49:4, 65:23;; Jer

51:58;; Hab 2:13;; Pss 2:1, 4:3, 73:13;; Job 39:16;; Prov 12:11, 28:19.
61 As in Gen 37:24, 41:27;; Judg 7:16;; 2 Kgs 4:3;; Isa 29:8;; Jer 51:34;;

Ezek 24:11;; Neh 5:13, etc.

62 Schloen, “The Exile of Disinherited Kin,” 210 n. 9 translates the

phrase as “propertyless men” though no explanation is given for this

reading, and Burney, 308–09 n. 3, suggests that ʭʩʷʩʸ here may refer to
those who “lack the qualities which command success in the leading of a
22 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

“to be empty, to be idle, to lack work,” or the adj. rÁqu, “empty,”

but also “without work,” “unemployed,” and “empty handed,” i.e.,
having nothing. 63 Thus, the phrase may have originally indicated
those without property, while it could also, by extension, be transferred
to the ethical realm of values to refer to moral emptiness or a va-
cancy of social value generally. 64 If so, we would thus have an in-
stance where a term indicating an individual of a low social status
was simultaneously used (or came to be used) as a pejorative de-
scription of individuals who would supposedly behave in a similar
manner as the “low-class” individual. 65
This understanding of the individuals in Abimelek’s and Jeph-
thah’s respective bands (i.e., that they are landless or otherwise
dispossessed) comports well with Stager’s analysis of the develop-
ing situation in pre-monarchic Israel, where the problem of disaf-
fected and landless males is given an important place in the system
of patrimonial authority and religion. 66 Abimelek’s patrimonial

regular life…and possibly also…a lack of material goods such as property

and tribal status.” Note also the study of G. Mobley, The Empty Men: The
Heroic Tradition of Ancient Israel (New York: Doubleday, 2005), who also
draws on this image of the ʭʩʷʩʸ ʭʩʹʰʠ as warriors and brigands.
63 CAD vol. 14 (R), 176–78.
64 Words designating “full,” “empty,” etc., often take on moral conno-

tations. It is preferable to have a “high” standing over a “low” one, to be

“enlightened” rather than “in the dark,” and to be “full” (of a good thing!)
rather than “empty.” Admittedly, the concept of emptiness (as in an emp-
ty jar or an empty city) is not always an appropriate equivalent to the idea
of owning nothing, and other terminology is used in the HB to speak of the
propertyless. Burney, 309 n. 3, notes that in post-biblical Hebrew ʷʩʸ
“comes to denote intellectual vacuity,” or is used as a general form of con-
tempt (e.g., Matt 5:22, ¸Á¸ = ʠʷʩʸ). Burney, 271 n. 4, also points to the
Arabic and Aramaic equivalents of ʦʧʴ (Judg 9:4), which mean “be inso-
lent” and “be lascivious,” respectively, thus suggesting “that the original
idea may have been to overpass bounds, be uncontrolled” (see the reference to
water in Gen 49:4).
65 See, for instance, the only other use of this phrase outside of Judges,

in 2 Chr 13:7 (as noted above), where the phrase does not seem to refer to
the landless, but rather is a simply pejorative term to refer to individuals
hostile to the Davidic line. In English, the word “peasant” may be compa-
rable to the phenomenon under consideration here—“peasant” has (or
had) a technical, socio-economic meaning, but can also be used as a dero-
gatory metaphor for one without manners or education. Michal’s dismissal
of David’s wild dancing in 2 Sam 6:20 also employs the designation
ʷʸ/ʷʩʸ when Michal claims David has revealed himself “like one of the
ʭʩʷʸ is uncovered,” which could perhaps be translated, loosely, as “like a
naked blundering peasant.”
66 Note that Stager (“The Archaeology of the Family,” 25–27) also

points to other organizations serving as a “safety valve” for a society’s

excess of young/unmarried males (who need not all be “disaffected” or
“landless”), such as the office of the “steward” (ʸʲʰ) and also the priest-
hood.
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 23

competition with his brothers forces him into an underdog posi-

tion from which he must cajole and kill his way into prominence,
reflecting the disastrous problems of inheritance and succession of
authority inherent in large, wealthy families. When one cannot
count on one’s own family, town, or clan for assistance, turning to
parasocial groups was a viable and attractive option;; apparently,
some of the Amarna period vassals found themselves similarly
stranded, at which point payment to and agreements with habiru
bands were the quickest road to stability and power. In this respect,
the warlord battle between Abimelek and Gaal over the city of
Shechem, instigated by Gaal in Judg 9:26–29, is reminiscent of the
struggle involving Labayu and his sons to gain control over the
exact same territory revealed in the Amarna texts (see also EA
289). 67
The story of Jephthah’s rise to power offers some interesting
parallels to Abimelek’s own actions, and, though lacking some of
the gritty details of Abimelek’s dealings, the sparse account of Jeph-
thah’s background in 11:1–3 is nonetheless a striking description of
the typical parasocial leader (even if only in literary terms) in the
ancient Near East. 68 Consider, for example, the inscription of
Idrimi (c. 1500 BCE), in which the pattern of rejection, exile, con-
tact with a parasocial group, and return is narrated in a tantalizingly
brief format. 69 An unnamed “evil” (mašiktu) 70 forces Idrimi’s family

67 See also the comments in Soggin, 170.

68 For a nice statement of the literary and structural affiliations be-
tween Abimelek’s and Jephthah’s careers, see T.J. Schneider, Judges (Col-
legeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 2000), 164–65, and also McKenzie,
145. On the mythic and folkloristic aspects of Jephthah’s story, see the
brief comments in Matthews, 117. The basic pattern of flight, recognition
by kin, formation of a band of men, and the transformation from fugitive
to leader upon return home is a literary structure present in several stories,
notably Idrimi of Alalakh, David, and Jephthah (as pointed out by Mat-
thews and also E.L. Greenstein and D. Marcus, “The Akkadian Inscrip-
tion of Idrimi,” JANESCU 8 [1976], 76–77).
69 The authoritative edition is M. Dietrich and O. Loretz, “Die Insch-

rift der Statue des Königs Idrimi von Alalả,” UF 13 (1981), 201–268;; see
also G.H. Oller, The Autobiography of Idrimi: A New Text Edition with Philolog-
ical and Historical Commentary (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Pennsylva-
nia, 1977). For further commentary, see, e.g., N. Na’aman, “A Royal
Scribe and His Scribal Products in the Alalakh IV Court,” Oriens Antiquus
19 (1980), 107–16;; J.M. Sasson, “On Idrimi and Šarruwa, the Scribe,” in
D.I. Owen and M.A. Morrison (eds.), Studies on the Civilization and Culture of
Nuzi and the Hurrians in Honor of Ernest R. Lacheman (Winona Lake, Ind.:
Eisenbrauns, 1981), 309–24;; and H. Klengel, “Historischer Kommentar
zur Inschrift des Idrimi von Alalả,” UF 13 (1981), 269–78.
70 Besides meaning “bad,” “evil,” or “badness,” masiktu/mašiktu could

even refer to a “bad reputation,” thus suggesting the reason the mašiktu is
not specified is because the family is somehow at fault. See CAD vol. 10
pt. 1, 323–24, e.g., [ina  pî] QLġÓġXPD ma-sik-ta isi, “he has a bad reputation
24 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

to leave their paternal home (the bët abëya, as Idrimi calls it in the
first-person narrative) and reside at Emar with maternal relatives
(lines 3–6). 71 At Emar, conflict arises, presumably regarding issues
of inheritance (the brothers, who are all older than poor Idrimi, are
apparently concerned with becoming the mÁr  ašarÓdi  rabi, the “pre-
eminent son” or “primary heir”) and Idrimi is forced to flee. In the
land of Canaan, Idrimi dwells with the habiru for seven years (line
27), and in the seventh year gathers up an army and returns (with
the help of the brothers?) to claim the throne in Alalakh. Whereas
the elders of Gilead invite Jephthah back because of the Ammonite
threat (Judg 11:4–11), it is not clear whether Idrimi’s actions are
overtly aggressive or whether there is some collusion with the
brothers and other individuals to organize his triumphant return
(the former seems more likely).
J.D. Schloen sees a mythological reflex of this pattern, which
he calls “the exile of disinherited kin,” in the Ugaritic texts KTU
1.12 and 1.23. Here, one can detect a motif of hostility between
Ba‘l (a high-status member of ’El’s divine household) and disinhe-
rited divine maidservants. 72 The astral deities Dawn and Dusk play
the role of the parasocial element and seem to rebel against ’El (the
passages in question are quite obscure), though in the end Schloen
argues that even disinherited and rebellious kin are still kin, and
thus are not to be harmed. 73 The connections among dis-
inheritance, flight, and conflict for interested parties within the
family seem to be deeply-embedded elements of ancient Near
Eastern storytelling in the second half of the 2nd millennium, indi-
cating something of their increasing social relevance during the
Late Bronze and early Iron Age Levant and the role of the paraso-
cial element as a powerful factor in negotiating these conflicts of
power.
One particular geographical element of Jephthah’s exile de-
serves further comment in light of our discussion of habiru-like
elements Judges: his location of exile in Judg 11:3, Tob. 74 It is only

among his own people.” In the Idrimi text lines 10–16, the author makes
it seem as though Idrimi’s flight is voluntary and calculated (and that he is
the only one thinking about inheritance rights), though one gets the dis-
tinct impression that the opposite must be the case.
71 Recall that in Judg 9:1–3, Abimelek’s appeal to the elders of She-

chem is an appeal to his maternal uncles, and to the entire clan of his
mother’s family. Also noted by Soggin, 169–70.
72 Schloen, 217.
73 Ibid., 219–20. Notice that Jephthah’s brothers do not physically

harm him in Judges 11, nor does Jephthah enact retribution upon his
family when he returns. For an analysis of disinherited kin—Jephthah in
particular—in ANE law, see the older study of I. Mendelssohn, “The
Disinheritance of Jephthah in the Light of the Lipit–Ishtar Code,” IEJ 4
(1954), 116–19.
74 Heb. ˌôb is to be identified with e̖–̕ayibeh, southeast of Ed-
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 25

in this chapter and in 2 Sam 10:6 that the land of Tob is men-
tioned, and, interestingly, the story in 2 Samuel 10 paints a similar
picture of Tob’s inhabitants. 75 David’s attempt at political reconcil-
iation after the death of the Ammonite king ended in humiliation,
as David’s messengers were sent away in a state of half-shaven and
half-clothed disgrace (10:4). Fearing possible reprisal from David,
the Ammonites attempt to shore up their military by hiring help,
viz., 20,000 soldiers from the Arameans of Beth-rehob and Zobah,
one thousand men from the king of Maacah, and 12,000 men from
Tob (10:6). Whereas earlier in the Deuteronomistic narrative a
band from Tob (i.e., Jephthah and his men) was called into action
against Ammon, the Ammonites were later able to employ merce-
naries from this same area against the Israelites.
Indeed, Tob may have been a difficult area to control for ei-
ther Israelite or Aramean powers, due to its position 20 miles east
of the Jordan and due to topographical factors. In his study of the
role of topography in the habiru phenomenon—the first (and only,
to my knowledge) study of its kind regarding the habiru—Rowton
proposed that the preponderance of woodland (high shrub–land,
i.e. Italian macchia or French maquis) areas in Syria-Palestine, espe-
cially in the 2nd millennium, would have made military control of
many areas difficult or impossible. 76 The density of such woodland
realms has proven to be a formidable factor even for modern
equipment, much less Bronze Age tools, and Rowton points to
correlations between pockets of habiru activity in the Amarna pe-
riod (in areas such as Shechem, northern Lebanon, and the area
between Beth-Shan and Shechem) and the presence of densely
wooded areas near these locations. 77
It seems impossible to say with certainty whether Tob pro-
vided such a wooded environment above and beyond other nearby
locales, but it is certainly the case that Shechem continued to be a
stronghold because of its geographical position and topographical
features (so much the better for habiru purposes), and it is not
unreasonable to surmise that Tob’s location allowed it to remain

rei/Der‘Á and northeast of Ramoth-gilead in Aram. Tob (̕ubu) replies

favorably to the Pharaoh’s request for supplies in EA 205, and is known
from a geographical list of Thutmose III (no. 22). See Rainey and Notley,
140.
75 See the brief comments on Tob and this Aramean conflict in B.

Mazar, “The Aramean Empire and Its Relations with Israel,” BA 25

(1962), 98–120. Compare Jephthah’s role as traveler/mediator between
the outlying area of Tob and Gilead with Rowton’s comments about the
role of parasocial leaders in this capacity in “Dimorphic Structure and the
Parasocial Element,” 185, 195, and Na’aman’s remarks on the need for
habiru-like bands for a stable home-base in “David’s Sojourn,” 95.
76 M.B. Rowton, “The Topological Factor in the ʿapiru Problem,” AS

16 (1965), 376.
77 Ibid., 381, 383.
26 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

un-cleared or un-cultivated (and thus un-eroded) longer than other

areas further west in Israel’s highlands. Therefore, one simple con-
clusion based on the reference to Tob in these two contexts and in
light of Rowton’s thesis is that Tob was a known staging ground
for parasocial groups, i.e., a type of uncontrolled, boundary area
where the socially disenfranchised could live in a relatively auto-
nomous fashion.
Finally, what are we to make of the origins of the tribe of Dan
in light of their violent activities and landless position in Judges 18?
Is it possible to suggest that the Danites were originally an inde-
pendent type of parasocial group, assimilated directly into Israel’s
story of settlement and tribal structure? To be sure, there are signif-
icant differences between the presentation of the Danites vis-à-vis
the other episodes we have been considering;; as I have already
mentioned, Dan’s status as a landed tribe among the other tribes is
ambiguous, and the Danites have no named leader in the biblical
narrative. Many commentaries shrewdly avoid the topic of Dan’s
origin or sociological status, and Dan’s place within Israel’s history
has remained an open topic for conjecture since (at least) Y. Ya-
din’s 1968 article, wherein it was argued that the Danites were a
Greek element (the Danuna, Homer’s Danaoi, a contingent of Sea
Peoples listed in accounts of Ramses III). 78 Such arguments have
faltered, however, on the archaeological data, which show no evi-
dence of the occupation of Sea Peoples at Tel Dan during the spe-
cific time periods in question. 79
Other problems exist with Yadin’s thesis, to be sure, and yet
the topic is a difficult one that calls for either theories that go
beyond the biblical text itself or a reexamination of the biblical
materials for new angles. One such attempt, made by Stager, relies
on an alternative translation of the short saying regarding Dan in
the putatively archaic “Song of Deborah”: ʺʥʩʰʠ ʸʥʢʩ ʤʮʬ ʯʣʥ. Fol-
lowing Robertson Smith’s analysis of ʸʢ as kinship terminology,
Stager translates the phrase as “And Dan, why did he serve as client
on ships?”80 That is to say, the Danites were serving as ʭʩʸʢ, a

78 Y. Yadin, “And Dan, Why Did He Remain in Ships?” Australian

Journal of Biblical Archaeology (1968), 9–23. See, earlier, M.C. Astour, Helleno-
semitica: An Ethnic and Cultural Study in West Semitic Impact on Mycenaean
Greece (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1965), 45–53, 69–112. Yadin’s theory is taken up
anew by O. Margalith, The Sea Peoples in the Bible (trans. O. and S. Marga-
lith;; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 1994), and see also some comments
by M. Sakellariou, “Who Were the Immigrants?” in G. Cadogan and J.
Langdon Caskey (eds.), The End of the Early Bronze Age in the Aegean (Lei-
den, Brill: 1986), 130–31. Cf. B.J. Stone’s critique of Margalith’s work in
this regard in JQR 88 (1997), 108–112.
79 See L. Stager, “Archaeology, Ecology and Social History: Back-

ground Themes to the Song of Deborah,” in J.A. Emerton (ed.), Congress

Volume: Jerusalem 1986 (Leiden: Brill), 221–34.
80 L. Stager, “The Song of Deborah: Why Some Tribes Answered the
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 27

“client-tribe” perhaps along the lines of the habiru who could be

defined in terms of their status of dependency on an economic or
social patron of some kind. 81 Like Asher, then, the Danites would
have been in a position of “economic dependence on non-Israelite
groups in the maritime trade,” thus explaining their reluctance to
join the Israelite highlanders in battle against Canaanite lords. 82 The
fact that Dan is mentioned at all in Judges 5, however, would seem
to indicate that they were viewed as part of the Israelite tribes in
some sense at the time of the poem’s composition (which may
have been as early as one to three centuries after the first “Israe-
lites” were established in the hill country). And yet Dan’s place in
the early poetry reveals a group with a proclivity to violence, whose
origins and existence, like the habiru and other parasocial groups,
are bound up with their ability to crouch by the roadside (Gen
49:17) and leap forth like a lion (Deut 33:22).

CONCLUSION
Although a few bands of landless men running around in the book
of Judges do not, in and of themselves, constitute sound evidence
for a habiru revolution and the concomitant historicity of these
kinds of stories in the book of Judges, the social and literary paral-
lels between the actions of characters in Judges 9, 11, and 18 and
known parasocial elements in the ancient Near East are striking
and deserve serious consideration. It is possible that these stories
of parasocial activity and subversive military maneuvers were con-
structed to provide an apologetic literary model for David’s similar
actions and rise to power in 1 Samuel, but it is equally plausible that
the stories of David’s parasocial days fell in line with memories of a
well-known pattern of comparable leaders and activities stemming
from Israel’s earliest existence in the land. I would argue that the
latter is more plausible, and toward this end, this study has sought
to show how some details of these three tales in Judges can be
brought into a mutually illuminating dialogue with what is currently
known about the existence of certain changes following the col-
lapse of societal structures in the ancient Near East (particularly the
pan-Mediterranean and Near Eastern collapse of the Late Bronze
systems).

Call and Others Did Not,” BAR 15 (1989) (accessed online at

http://www.basarchive.org). The question of the relationship between the
Danites and ships (ʺʥʩʰʠ) is unclear. If the Danites represent some connec-
tion with a Mediterranean migration (see Astour, cited above), then the
memory of their arrival or departure on, and association with, ships could
be preserved in Judg 5:17 (which, nevertheless, does not speak of such
things directly).
81 See note 41 above.
82 Stager, “The Song of Deborah.”
28 JOURNAL OF HEBREW SCRIPTURES

The objective here has thus not been to demand that the tex-
tual materials in Judges 9, 11, and 18 require some vaguely histori-
cal connection to the late 2nd millennium habiru phenomena, but
rather that close attention to the narrative details regarding Gide-
on’s and Jephthah’s rise to power and the acquisition of land by the
Danites can be made historically relevant and meaningful in light of
what we can surmise regarding the historicity and anthropology of
habiru-like groups in Israel-Palestine during the pre-monarchic
period (c. 1200–1000 BCE). 83 My goal here has simply been to show
that these “worthless and reckless fellows” served a more decisive
and formative role in the pre-monarchic period than some have
previously recognized, as their violent actions would provide the
model for the rise of the monarchy’s most transformative figure,
David, the last great parasocial warlord at the end of the 2nd millen-
nium.
The actions of these landless individuals and their charismatic
leaders in Judges was indeed a “normal” aspect of transitional life
on the frontier of the Levant in the late 2nd millennium, and the
constant presentation of the book of Judges and the actions of its
characters as abnormal or degenerate by some commentators ob-
scures the important fact that, normally, transitions of the type
described in Judges are brutal or even obscene. 84 The Abimeleks,
Jephthahs, and Danites run rampant through such landscapes of
terror and change, and the authors of Judges acutely recognized the
inevitability of the failure and dissolution of old systems—indeed,
of all organized systems—whether they be political, social, or eco-
nomic. In its most poignant moments, the book of Judges presents
violence and social upheaval as a creative force in the birth of new
social, political, and religious realities;; the tribes—even under the
monarchy—form, at their most stable, an “ordered anarchy,” to
borrow a phrase from Evans-Pritchard’s famous description of the
Nuer political system. 85 If some version of the habiru-Hebrew
hypothesis is accurate on the sociological level, and if the origins of

83 Consider the words of Paul Ricoeur, quoted by Stager in “The Arc-

haeology of the Family,” 1, regarding the task of historians vis-à-vis texts:

one should not succumb to “the methodological illusion whereby the
historical fact is held to exist in a latent state in documents and the histo-
rian to be the parasite of the historical equation. To counter this metho-
dological illusion, one must assert that in history the initiative does not
belong to the document but to the question posed by the historian. The
latter has logical precedence in the historical inquiry.”
84 See, e.g., the typical comment by D.I. Block, Judges, Ruth (Nashville:

Broadman & Holman, 1999), 245: “The Book of Judges portrays a dege-
nerate Israelite society. Little that transpires in the book is normal or
normative.”
85 E.E. Evans-Pritchard, The Nuer: A Description of the Modes of Livelihood

and Political Institutions of a Nilotic People (first published in 1940;; New York:
Oxford University Press, 1969), 5.
 SOME WORTHLESS AND RECKLESS FELLOWS 29

the biblical and the historical Israel lie with the indigenous hill
country population of Canaan at the beginning of the Iron Age,
then it is the book of Judges (and its continuation into Samuel), in
its depiction of banditry, parasocial leaders, and land-grabs, that
provides the Hebrew Bible’s best glance into the historical begin-
nings of the nation in its pre-monarchic condition. 86

86I owe a debt of gratitude to the anonymous reviewers, as well as my

colleagues Jonathan Kline and Adam Strich, for the helpful suggestions
they offered in response to earlier versions of this paper. Obviously, all
remaining errors are my own.