The Oxford History of the Biblical World (89 page)

To what extent the revolt represented the sentiments of the full population is not known. Agrippa II sought peace; sailing immediately from Alexandria to Jerusalem, he sent three thousand soldiers to attempt to remove the Zealots, but receiving almost no help from the inept Florus, he failed. Unlike his son, the high priest as well as the majority of the Sadducees could see no benefit from the revolt. Yet the lower-ranking priests did have reason to rebel. According to Josephus, their superiors had begun taking the people’s tithed offerings directly from the threshing floor of the Temple; the lower priests, who depended on these offerings for their livelihood, were thereby being reduced to impoverishment and starvation. One leader of the Jewish forces in Galilee was John the Essene. Pharisaic views are less clear, since they are recorded only by Josephus, if not already then at least later himself a Pharisee with strong apologetic interests. Some Pharisees appear to have counseled peace or at least caution; Rome’s willingness to sponsor Pharisaic interests in the aftermath of the war may imply at least some Pharisaic sponsorship of Roman interests prior to the revolt. But others, including Simeon ben Gamaliel, joined the struggle.

For many in Galilee, the war was unwanted. Much of the territory remained prosperous despite famines, taxation, occupation, and memories of Judas and the census. The major cities, Sepphoris and Tiberias, had substantial economic and cultural ties to Rome. Josephus, at first the leader of the Galilean resistance, announces in his
Jewish War
(the major source for the reconstruction of the events of 66–73) that rebellion is not desired by God.

The varied responses to the call for revolt are epitomized by two residents of Galilee who, during the war, found themselves in Jerusalem. Johanan ben Zakkai, who had lived in Gabara just prior to 66, counseled peace; John of Gischala was at the forefront in defending Jerusalem against the Roman troops. How the Jerusalem church reacted is unclear. According to the fourth-century church historian Eusebius, the church relocated to Pella, across the Jordan River, early in 66. Yet this account has its problems. Much of the sixty miles between Jerusalem and Pella would already have been under Roman control; Pella itself was then in the hands of Jewish revolutionaries, and the reports of the relocation may well originate from Pella itself.

Rome was clearly unhappy with this turn of events. In the autumn of 66, the governor of Syria, Cestius Callus, headed for Jerusalem. Facing strong opposition, he had to retreat, and during the withdrawal, over half of his military support perished at Beth-horon. This initial victory brought even more of the Jewish population over to the Zealot side. Soon local coins with the inscription “Year 1” began to appear.

Nero next sent his general Vespasian to restore order. Supported financially and materially not only by the emperor but also by Agrippa II and Malchus II of Nabatea, Vespasian embarked for Galilee in 67. There he would meet Josephus, whom the Sanhedrin had appointed commander of the revolutionary troops. Josephus by his own account fortified Jotapata, Tarichea, Tiberias, Sepphoris, and Gischala; he also claims to have mustered a hundred thousand soldiers, an improbably high number. Distrusted by the Zealots, and in particular by John of Gischala, Josephus was accused of negotiating with Rome. Once Vespasian arrived, Josephus recounts that many of the Jewish resistance fighters fled, and he himself retreated to Tiberias while his own troops moved to Jotapata.

The siege of the fortress in Jotapata lasted forty-seven days in June and July of 67. Then, through internal betrayal, the fortress finally fell. The population was either killed or enslaved, and the city was leveled. Josephus claims that he fled to a cave and then, after both a convenient miracle and his opportune prediction that Vespasian would become emperor, his life was spared. He joined the general’s entourage, took Vespasian’s household name—Flavius—as his own, and spent the rest of his life under Rome’s aegis.

Distrusted during and after the revolt by many of his fellow Jews, Josephus is not entirely trusted by modern historians either. His various accounts of Roman political activities in Judea and Galilee, of the actions of the Jewish revolutionaries, of the general political climate in Jerusalem, of the role of the Pharisees and Sadducees, and of the extent of Gentile attitudes toward Jews during the first century
CE
must be viewed in the context of his apologetic motives. Yet regardless of the extent of his exaggeration, it remains the case that by the end of the year 67, Rome had retaken not only Jotapata and Tiberias, but all of Galilee. John of Gischala fled to Jerusalem, and the Roman army soon followed.

Under Vespasian, the tenth Roman legion next headed for the Dead Sea. Probably expecting the war of the sons of light against the sons of darkness, the Qumran covenanters found instead the army of Rome. Their light remained extinguished until 1947, when their scrolls were rediscovered; Rome turned their settlement into a barracks. Some members of the group may have fled to Masada, but their fate too was sealed.

As the Roman forces marched on toward Jerusalem, the various revolutionary groups in the city recognized the need to consolidate their power. With help from Idumean allies, they replaced the weak Sanhedrin government with their own. They also deposed the high priest, in favor of Phanni (or Phanassus) ben Samuel, not from one of the high-priestly families but chosen by lot. Still, factionalism began to sap both their strength and their spirit. Simon bar Giora, who left Idumea following Vespasian’s incursion, headed for Jerusalem in the summer of 69. There he found himself in rivalry not only with John of Gischala, but also with the priest Eleazar ben Simeon, who had split from John’s party. Each group formed its own base: bar Giora
directed the upper city and parts of lower Jerusalem; John of Gischala held the Temple Mount; Eleazar controlled the Temple’s inner forecourt. The rival groups burned much of the grain stored in the city, a move that gave different factions temporary political advantage but ultimately doomed Jerusalem.

Recognizing the toll internal fighting was taking, Vespasian had left the Zealots in Jerusalem to weaken each other and turned instead to Idumea, Perea, Antipatris, Lydda, and Jamnia. Quickly advancing, he took Shechem, and thus the Samaritans who had begun to fight Rome in 67 were subdued. Soon Jericho fell, and Vespasian was ready for the last major rebel stronghold, Jerusalem. Yet again, however, Jerusalem was spared. On the ninth of June 68, Nero committed suicide, and the general’s attention was redirected westward. Given this sudden lull in Roman activities, bar Giora recognized an opportunity to attack southern Judea, including Hebron. Vespasian naturally then mounted a campaign against Hebron, which fell quickly. By mid-June, he held all points except for Jerusalem and the fortresses of Herodium, Machaerus, and Masada.

Apparently during this time, perhaps as late as the summer of 69 when the Idu-means also fled Jerusalem, the Pharisaic leader Jochanan ben Zakkai escaped from the city. Rabbinic accounts suggest that he had received permission from Vespasian to establish a school in Jamnia. These accounts also depict ben Zakkai—like Josephus—as predicting that Vespasian would both destroy the Temple and ascend the imperial throne. A minor episode during the war, ben Zakkai’s relocation would have a major effect on the survival, and configuration, of Judaism.

Attentive to power struggles both in Rome and in Jerusalem, Vespasian bided his time. On 1 July 69, the Roman armies stationed in the eastern part of the empire proclaimed Vespasian emperor. Leaving his army in the control of his capable son, Titus, Vespasian returned to Rome, where he began his ten-year reign as emperor. Titus, aided by (among others) the Jewish-born former procurator Tiberius Julius Alexander, the former rebel leader in Galilee Josephus, and four legions of soldiers, began the siege in early 70, a few weeks before Passover. The timing perfectly coincided with the increasing tension among the internal factions. When Eleazar the priest opened the gates of the Temple for the celebration of the festival, John of Gischala stormed the inner court. Now only two Zealot factions remained. With Titus laying siege to the northern wall of Jerusalem, the groups inside finally united. Their effort failed, and in only three weeks Titus controlled the entire inner city.

The fortress of Antonia capitulated in three days, but the Temple, better defended and less accessible, took longer to fall. Yet the cessation of the daily sacrifices, caused by the food shortage, signaled the inevitable. This cessation, which demoralized the religious population remaining in the city, reduced the Temple to a Zealot stronghold. After a fierce battle and numerous losses to his own troops, Titus succeeded in capturing it. Sometime in August 70, the ninth day of the month of Ab according to Jewish tradition, the Temple was burned. We do not know whether Titus was responsible (Josephus asserts that the general wanted to spare the Temple, but the claim itself is questionable) or whether it was torched by the remaining Zealots.

John of Gischala and his followers escaped and continued their resistance from various locations in the upper city. Lack of food ended this last Jerusalem holdout within five months. Titus marched seven hundred prisoners to Rome for his victory
procession, including John of Gischala and Simon bar Giora. Josephus recounts that the former spent his life in prison, while the latter was executed. Titus’s arch, depicting many spoils from the Temple including the famous menorah and the altar table where the showbread were displayed, commemorates the Roman conquest. But the conquest was by no means complete. Symbolically, the remaining western wall of the Temple, the Kotel, can be seen to represent the refusal of the Jewish population to surrender completely to Rome. Historically, there remained yet a few pockets of resistance whose story would also be preserved through archaeological remains.

The task of taking Masada, Herodium, and Machaerus fell to Sextus Lucius Bassus, who was appointed procurator of Judea in 71 by Vespasian. Herodium fell quickly in 71, and Machaerus, after a longer battle, was taken in 72 when Bassus promised amnesty for the rebels. Bassus died shortly thereafter; his successor, Flavius Silva, began the siege of Masada in early 73.

Masada had been held by the Sicarii since 66. During the war, Eleazar ben Jair, his troops, and their families accumulated abundant stores of food and water. Their resources gave them an initial advantage over Silva’s troops, since the Romans had to bring in supplies from a considerable distance, and since in the late spring and summer the heat in the region is intense. But the fall of Masada was inevitable. Eventually, the Roman troops broke through Masada’s defenses, set fire to the wooden barricade erected by Eleazar to protect the wall, and prepared to enter the fort.

What happened next is a matter of some debate. According to Josephus, Eleazar recognized that Masada would fall and persuaded his followers to kill their own families and then commit suicide. The victorious Romans then entered, but found more than nine hundred corpses; only two women and five children, who told the conquerors what had happened, had escaped by hiding in cisterns. Some scholars doubt this story, believing that Josephus made it up in order to satisfy both his Jewish sympathies and his Roman loyalties, allowing the Jews to appear heroic and sparing the Romans the infamy of having slaughtered whole families.

In the sixth century
BCE
the Jewish people, having experienced the destruction of their Temple, survived by turning internally to their traditions, their theological beliefs, their community. These same factors contributed to their perseverance after 70
CE
. To some extent ideal models for the Temple were already in place. The Temple Scroll from Qumran already indicated a vision of an alternative Temple system. Similarly, pietists (perhaps Pharisees), who ate fellowship or
havurah
meals in ritual purity and thereby treated the domestic table as the Temple altar, were to some extent prepared for the loss of the sacrificial cult. Synagogues and schools in both Palestine and the Diaspora moved into the gap created by the lack of a central location for community worship. Further, Diaspora Jews, although contributing to the Temple through the annual tax and although connected to it through pilgrimage, had long lived without its immediate presence.

Theological concerns and rereadings of biblical texts provided additional comfort. For Josephus, for the rabbis, and for the authors of such apocalyptic texts as 2 Baruch and 4 Ezra, the destruction was in part the result of the people’s sin. This Deuteronomic
perception was, however, coupled with a return to the perspective of Jeremiah. That prophet, who had lived at the time of the Babylonian onslaught, had explained that through divine plans some nations rise and others fall. Now the Roman Empire was ascendant, but in time it too would fall. According to some early Christians, the destruction of the Temple was punishment on the Jews for the death of Jesus (see Matt. 27.25) and a fulfillment of a prediction Jesus himself had made (Mark 13.2).

The Romans themselves probably did not want the Temple system reestablished. Given the controversies earlier appointments to the high priesthood had caused and the potential of both priesthood and Temple to serve as rallying points for another revolt, they would not have wanted another high priest. Their instincts would have been correct: the Bar Kokhba coinage depicts the Temple, a symbol of nationalism and independence. To attempt the reconstruction would have also been politically unwise. Rome replaced the annual two-drachma or half-shekel Temple tax with the humiliating
Fiscus Judaicus,
now to be paid by all Jewish men over the age of twenty for the reconstruction of the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus in Rome. This policy was abolished by the emperor Nerva in 97.

Roman coins inscribed with the legend “Judea Capta” and depicting a woman weeping beneath a willow tree proclaimed the people’s defeat even as they silently but eloquently displayed their grief. The Jewish population of Judea in 73 found themselves surrounded by death—without the Temple, without a clear leadership from among their own people, and without any semblance of local political and economic infrastructure. The Sanhedrin was disbanded. Jerusalem now lacked the revenues that came into the city from pilgrimages (although some Jews continued to make the trip), from the Temple tax, and from the general mechanisms by which the sacrificial system functioned. The Temple would become for the people an ideal; its rituals and practices, description and fate, would be recorded in the rabbinic documents, reviewed in schools, and recited in liturgies. But the various attempts to rebuild it, from the Bar Kokhba rebellion to the initiative in the fourth century, during the reign of Emperor Julian the Apostate, would all fail.