Sacred Suicide

Carole M. Cusack, James R. Lewis, James R. Lewis

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2016
• ISBN:
  9781317060185
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Théologie et religion
• Subtopic: Fondamentalisme religieux et cultes

The label 'Suicide Cults' has been applied to a wide variety of different alternative religions, from Jonestown to the Solar Temple to Heaven's Gate. Additionally, observers have asked if such group suicides are in any way comparable to Islamist suicide terrorism, or to historical incidents of mass suicide, such as the mass suicide of the ancient community of Masada. Organizationally and ideologically diverse, it turns out that the primary shared trait of these various groups is a common stereotype of religion as an irrational force that pushes fanatics to undertake acts of suicidal violence. Offering a valuable perspective on New Religious Movements and on religion and violence, Sacred Suicide brings together contributions from a diverse range of international scholars of sociology, religious studies and criminology.

Part I Historical Suicide Cults

DOI: 10.4324/9781315607382-2

Chapter 1 The Sicarii Suicide on Masada and the Foundation of a National Myth¹

¹ This chapter is based on Ben-Yehuda (1995; 2002; and 2009).

Nachman Ben-Yehuda

DOI: 10.4324/9781315607382-3

Introduction

During the first century AD, the Roman Empire controlled the province of Judea. A series of incapable and corrupt Roman governors created a significant degree of resentment and unrest that erupted in 66 AD in what is now known as the Jewish “Great Revolt.” In essence, this revolt challenged directly Roman control and hegemony in the province and in the region indirectly. The Romans reacted with an iron fist. A few Roman legions advanced from the north to the south crushing fortresses and suppressing resistance. Eventually, the Roman Imperial army placed a siege system around Jerusalem and in 70 AD conquered and destroyed the city, as well as burning to the ground the second Jewish Temple. While this was in fact the end of the revolt, three fortresses remained defiant: Herodion, Macherus, and Masada. In what can be easily described as a mopping-up operation, the Roman army set on conquering and suppressing these three fortresses. Masada was the last. Following a siege, on the 15th of Xanticus 73 AD, the Roman tenth legion (“Fretensis”) breached the walls of Masada. That was the end of Masada and of the “Great Revolt.”

Historical Reality According to Josephus Flavius vs. the Myth

There are two versions about what took place at Masada in 73 AD. The historical version is provided by first-century historian Josephus Flavius; the second version is a product of the early twentieth century and is essentially a myth. While there is some overlap between the two, and while some elements of Josephus’s original and historical version do appear in the mythical version, they differ on almost all the important points. Understanding the political, social, and scientific context of this transformation requires that we acquire a basic understanding of these two very different narratives.

The Historical Narrative: Background and Josephus

The Great Revolt ended as colossal failure, and in disastrous large-scale bloodshed, the agonized death of thousands of Jews at the hands of the Imperial Roman army, and the enslavement of thousands more. The fall of Masada, probably in 73 AD, was the last chapter in that doomed revolt. The Masada mythical narrative (Ben-Yehuda 1995; Paine 1994; Shargel 1979; Zerubavel 1995) is a direct remnant of that period. No real understanding of some of the basic elements of modern Jewish Israeli culture—certainly issues of national and personal identity—can be attained without understanding this tragic and heroic period.

There is only one historical source available on Masada: the writings of Josephus Flavius. Josephus mentions that Justus from Tiberias wrote a historical narrative of the Jewish war, but no copies of this work have survived. Josephus thus becomes the exclusive “baseline” for understanding what happened.

Joseph Ben-Matityahu, later known as Josephus Flavius, was born in Jerusalem in 37 AD to a priestly family. He notes that he was not an enthusiastic supporter of the Great Revolt; however, when it actually began, at around 66 AD, he became commander of the Galilee, responsible for its defense. In 67 AD, the Galilee fortress Jotapata (Yodfat) fell. A few survivors, including Josephus, considered suicide. Josephus managed to fool the Romans and he and one other survivor remained alive. Instead of killing one another, Josephus persuaded the other person to surrender to the Romans. Clearly a skillfully persuasive man, when Josephus met Vespasian, the Roman commander of the forces that had conquered Jotapata, he managed to form an interesting relationship with him. Among other things, Josephus supposedly prophesied to Vespasian that he would become emperor of Rome; and indeed, Titus Flavius Vespasian did become emperor, ruling between 69 and 79 AD. Josephus traveled to Rome where he assumed a Roman name, and became a Roman citizen and an official historian. The question regarding Josephus’s Jewish identity in Rome (or whatever was left of it, if any) remains open.

Josephus’s history of the Jewish War was probably influenced by a complicated set of interests. Many Jews viewed him as a traitor and turncoat. As historian to the Romans, he had to write a history that would satisfy his masters. As a Jew, he had to cope with some uneasy issues of identity as well as the obvious necessity of justifying his own actions. Nothing is thus too simple when it comes to Josephus.

Josephus was not physically present during the Roman siege of Masada, and his account of the events there is probably based on the reports (commentarii) and/or diaries written by the Roman military officers who had taken part in the siege of Masada. We should use Josephus’s account cautiously, straying from his text only if there are compelling reasons to do so. For example, his citation of Ben-Yair’s last two speeches needs to be taken with caution because he was not there and the invention of the tape recorder lay more than a thousand years in the future. Still, he knew the culture intimately and could have surmised the expressions of which such speeches could consist.

Without Josephus, virtually all our knowledge of the period and the relevant events would disappear; there would “be” no Masada. Without Josephus, “the history of the last two centuries of the Second Commonwealth could be reduced to a few pages—and a good part of that would be legendary” (Aberbach 1985: 25). I thus take Josephus’s text as an historical baseline. The likelihood that Josephus lied to and cheated his Roman masters as well as those who were actually involved in the events, and fabricated a siege that never was, people who never existed, or an event that never took place, does not seem very high. Josephus’s account was written very close to the events and it is the exclusive description of those fateful events. Historically speaking, it is the only detailed “truth” we have about the Jewish Great Revolt and Masada. The accuracy or validity of Josephus’s writings is not being judged, tested or challenged here.

Masada: The Site

Masada is a mountain fortress nearly 100 kilometers southeast of Jerusalem (Livne 1986). The mountain’s name and fortress in Hebrew is METZADA, literally a fort, fortress, or stronghold. The Greek transliteration of METZADA is “Masada” (Simchoni 1923: 513). Masada is a spectacular site. The doomed fortress is located near the Dead Sea, in the middle of a harsh and desolate terrain, with difficult access. If one stands atop the big, barren and serene yellowish plateau facing the silent, harsh, moon-like landscape, the cold desert breeze of early morning conjures up a near-mystical atmosphere, evoking a very eerie feeling. There almost seems to be a sort of a metaphysical presence on the top of the mountain.

The extraordinary site and atmosphere conspire to provoke a powerfully suggestive state of mind. The narrative of the doomed Great Revolt of the Jews, and the tragic death of the rebels, seem somehow to be in full harmony with the harsh and desolate terrain in the midst of which looms the desolate mountain-top fortress. The bleak physical environment of Masada seems to echo the historical narrative about the bloody revolt that ended in so much destruction.

The Historical Narrative²

² References to Josephus Flavius are to The Complete Works of Josephus, by Josephus Flavius, translated into English by William Whiston (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 1981).

One may perhaps begin by dating the Great Revolt to the year 6 AD, when the Romans sought to carry out a census in the province of Judea. One of the main opponents of the census was Yehuda of Gamla (also identified as Yehuda of the Galilee) who, with Zadok Haprushi, kindled the fire of resistance. They developed and promulgated the “fourth philosophy.” The first three philosophies were those espoused by the Essenes, the Sadducees, and the Pharisees, respectively. The “fourth philosophy” emphasized the value of freedom, and its adherents felt allegiance only to God. While Yehuda was probably killed by the Romans, the “fourth philosophy” did not die. It continued to spread throughout the land, probably becoming the ideology of a group of Jewish fundamentalist rebels known as the Sicarii, identified with the aspiration to be free of, and totally opposed to, the rule of the Roman Empire (Feldman 1984: 655–67).

We first find the term “Sicarii” mentioned by Josephus in connection with events that took place between 52 and 62 AD. “Sicarii” derives from sica, referring to a small dagger which the Sicarii supposedly carried beneath their robes and which they used to attack and assassinate those whom they viewed as their opponents in Jerusalem, especially during holy days. Their tactics included intimidation and threats of violence against their political and ideological opponents and they were involved in indiscriminate terror activities, including political assassinations. Such was their killing of Yonatan Ben-Hanan, the former high priest of Jerusalem. They also kidnapped hostages whom they exchanged for their own people who had been captured by the Romans. Josephus describes that the Sicarii’s attitude to local inhabitants who were not overtly hostile to Roman rule as “if they had been their enemies … by plundering them of what they had, by driving away their cattle, and by setting fire to their houses” (Josephus 1981: 598).

Headed by Manahem, the Sicarii captured Masada and its armaments in 66 AD. They then headed to Jerusalem where they used the weapons to conquer the upper city.³ They set fire to the house of Hanania the high priest and burned the central archives where legal and commercial documents, deeds, and notes were kept. They also killed some Jews and surrendered Roman soldiers. These acts helped to mark the beginning of the Great Revolt and to further divide the Jewish population into “zealots” and “moderates.”

³ Josephus does not provide a clear or consistent account of the events leading to this capture (1981: 491). For example, it is unclear whether Manahem’s men left a garrison there, and whether upon their return to Masada, Eleazar Ben-Yair and his men had to recapture it. Josephus states that “he [Eleazar Ben-Yair] and his Sicarii got possession of the fortress [Masada] by treachery” (ibid.: 599). See also Horsley and Hanson (1985: 212), Cotton and Geiger (1989: 1–24) and Cotton and Preiss (1990).

As Manahem was killed by those opposing the Sicarii, he was replaced by Eleazar Ben-Yair, a relative of Manahem, and a “descendant from … Judas who had persuaded … Jews … not to submit to the taxation” (ibid.: 598), who headed the Sicarii’s escape to Masada. Josephus states that Ben-Yair “acted the part of a tyrant at Masada” taking the role of “commander” of the “Sicarii” (ibid.: 9, 492).

After the fall of Jerusalem, Lucilius Bassus was sent to Judea as legate and continued to suppress the remnants of the Jewish Great Revolt, taking the fortress of Herodion and later laying siege to Macherus, where fierce battles raged until that fortress surrendered. Following these successes, Bassus marched to the forest of Jarden where refugees from Jerusalem and Macherus were hiding. In the ensuing battle, all the Jews in the Jarden forest were killed (ibid.: 595–7). When Lucilius Bassus died,⁴ Flavius Silva succeeded him as procurator of Judea (ibid.: 598). Realizing that “all the rest of the country was subdued in this war, and that there was but one only stronghold that was still in rebellion, he got all his army⁵ together that lay in different places, and made an expedition against it. This fortress was called Masada” (ibid.: 598). The siege of Masada was thus not laid immediately after the fall of Jerusalem in the summer of 70 AD.

⁴ Possibly at the end of 72 AD (Simchoni 1923: 512). ⁵ Josephus probably meant the Tenth Legion (“Fretensis”).

While Josephus is at times vague in his identification of people in particular places, when he describes the siege on Masada his use of the word “Sicarii” is very consistent, perhaps the most consistent in his book (see Dvir 1966). For example: “There was a fortress of very great strength not far from Jerusalem … It is called Masada. Those that were called Sicarii had taken possession of it formerly” (Josephus 1981: 537).

The Roman army constructed a circumvallation wall around Masada to prevent the besieged from escaping. A siege ramp leading up to Masada on the eastern side of the mountain was erected as well. The Roman soldiers used their battering ram/s on the ramp to pound at the wall around Masada, breaching and destroying part of it. The Sicarii in the stronghold hastily built another wall, this time a soft one made of wood and earth filling, which could absorb the ramming energy of the war machines without yielding. The Roman soldiers set fire to the second wall and destroyed it as well, undoubtedly signaling the end for the Sicarii in Masada (Netzer 1991). Their choices were clear. They could (a) try to escape, (b) fight to the inevitable end, (c) surrender, or (d) commit collective suicide. The first choice may have been seen by them as hopeless. Alternative (c) meant slavery for the women and children and painful and humiliating deaths for the men. Of the 967 people on Masada only a few hundred were probably capable of fighting, most of the rest being women and children; this may have reduced the appeal of option (b). Eleazar Ben-Yair opted for option (d). He addressed the besieged population in two speeches convincing them to accept this option. The Sicarii killed one another and themselves.

The account provided by Josephus does not mention the role of the women and children in the...