Reckless Rites: Purim and the Legacy of Jewish Violence
Ratings1
Average rating5
15
Ratings1
Average rating5
Historical accounts of Jewish violence--particularly against Christians--have long been explosive material. Some historians have distorted these records for anti-Semitic purposes. Others have discounted, dismissed, or simply ignored the evidence, often for apologetic purposes. In Reckless Rites, Elliott Horowitz takes a new and forthright look at both the history of Jewish violence since late antiquity and the ways in which generations of historians have grappled with that history. In the process, he has written the most wide-ranging book on Jewish violence in any language, and the first to fully acknowledge and address the actual anti-Christian practices that became part of the playful, theatrical violence of the Jewish festival of Purim. He has also examined the different ways in which the book of Esther, upon which the festival is based, was used by Jews and Christians over the centuries--whether as an ancient mirror of modern tribulations or as the scriptural basis for anti-Semitic claims regarding the bloodthirstiness of the Jews. Reckless Rites reassesses the historical interpretation of Jewish violence--from the alleged massacre of thousands of Christians in seventh-century Jerusalem to later medieval attacks on Christian symbols such as the crucifix, transgressions that were often committed in full knowledge that their likely consequence would be death. A book that calls for major changes in the way that Jewish history is written and conceptualized, Reckless Rites will be essential reading for scholars and students of history, religion, and Jewish-Christian relations.
Reviews with the most likes.
Please give my Amazon review a helpful vote - https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R2IF2P7A8EPE5F?ref=pf_ov_at_pdctrvw_srp
Reckless Rites: Purim and the Legacy of Jewish Violence by Elliott Horowitz
Although this book promises an examination of anti-Christian Jewish violence, and it does provide some of that, that really isn't the subject of the book. The book is really about the history of Purim as that subject refracted through a variety of subtopics. I found the book endlessly fascinating because it was so encyclopedic and covered a topic I knew nothing about.
Purim is, of course, the holiday that celebrates the legendary story of Esther, Mordecai and Haman from the book of Esther. In that book, Mordecai refused to bow (or “worship” in my Douay Rheims Bible) the viceroy of the Persian king Ahasuerus, a man named Haman, the “Agagite.” Because of that slight, Haman decides to obtain an edict from the King permitting him to hang Mordecai and all the Jews of the Persian empire. In another story line, however, the King has put aside his wife Vasthi and taken Mordecai's niece, Esther, as his queen. With this dynamic in play, Esther arranges to turn the table and it is Haman, his sons and the anti-Semites of the Persian empire who are hung on the orders of the King.
Horowitz starts by recounting several modern episodes where Jews have assaulted or spit upon Christians and Christian religious processions during the Purim holiday. From there he segues into an extended discussion of the book of Esther. In Chapter One, we are treated to a discussion of the book and its theme of radical revenge. Because of this theme of merciless revenge – not only Haman but his ten sons and 80,000 anti-Semites were hung – the book of Esther has periodically been seen as problematic by Jews as well as anti-Semites. At various times, some Jews have thought it would be wise to remove Purim from the calendar for that reason, but also because Purim is a time of carnival and great drunkenness. (As I recall, the Puritans abolished Christmas for the same reason.)
Horowitz moves to the treatment of Queen Vashti, who has become a feminist hero in recent years, and of Esther, the heroine of the story in Chapter Two. In Chapter Three, we are treated to an interesting discussion of Mordecai's refusal to bow to Haman. This has been a live issue among scholars, some of whom view Mordecai as simply obstinate and others who speculate about whether Mordecai's refusal stemmed from a pagan icon on Haman's robe, which would have made Mordecai potentially guilty of idolatry. (In my Douay Reims Bible, the later Greek Septuagint addition is provided where Mordecai explains that if he “worshipped” Haman that would have amounted to idolatry.)
In Chapter Four and Five, we get a discussion of Haman and Amalek. Over the course of history, all anti-Semites have been identified with Haman and Amalek. Amalek was the tribe that was the first to attack the Jews after they left Egypt. Jews are still “holding paper” against Amalek and regularly remember that they are to “blot out the memory of Amalek,” which has ironically preserved the memory of Amalek. Later, Saul led a war against Amalek and failed to adhere to the command of God to kill their king, Agag, which the prophet Samuel rectified by hacking Agag into bloody bits. As a descendant of Agag, it would seem that Haman was playing out the ancient grudge of the Amelakites against the Jews and vice versa.
This is all fascinating stuff, and points to Esther as a good read.
In Chapter 6, we get closer to the proposed subject of the book. We learn about anti-Purim legislation by Christians who were annoyed at the Jewish tendency to use Purim as a kind of anti-Christian agitprop theater. At Purim it was traditional on occasion to parade the gibbet, which sometimes was made to represent a cross. Haman was sometimes represented in the of Christ crucified. From here Horowitz provides an interesting explanation of “Jewish” views of the cross. (I put “Jewish” in quotes because I don't think they represent all Jews at all times, but they do represent some Jews at some times.) Horowitz gives credence to stories about some Jews spitting on the cross and referring to the cross, or the Crucified One, as an “abomination.” Some Jews – particularly Crypto-Jews – would affirm their faith by whipping the crucifix (and also keeping the fast of Esther.) On other occasions, when Jews were being required to convert, they would ensure their martyrdom by “thrusting a rod” – waiving their penis – at the crucifix or urinating on it or otherwise showing disrespect.
Horowitz seems to accept these accounts. He makes the point that historians often uncritically accept other parts of the same accounts while downplaying or finding the anti-crucifix bits to be absurd or incredible. He observes that “Historians may sometimes think themselves scrupulous when they are simply being squeamish.” (p. 169.)
For myself, I don't know. I question tropes like that. If I read an account where a convent or monastery is alleged to have a graveyard of small bones, I think that this might be true but there is a good possibility that someone is simply slipping in a fairly conventional anti-Catholic trope. I can well imagine a persecuted people to behave this way against their persecutors, but, still, I can well imagine the persecutors making sure that this detail is included....although the particular stories do seem credible.
Horowitz also discusses the desecration of the host, which he does not find to be “highly unlikely. (p. 173.)
On the other hand, Horowitz avoids the simplistic trope of unredeemed religious hostility. He points out that former Grand Rabbi of Rome associated the cross with mercy. (p. 189.) He rejects the argument that this is unlikely by noting that other Jews made similar associations. (Id.) History is complicated.
In Chapter 7, Horowitz discusses the conflicting images of Jews as mild cowards and wild revenge-seekers. He makes the interesting point that the Jews owned the lower weight boxing divisions from the 18th to the early 20th century.
In Chapter 8, we get a discussion of ritual murder allegations. This is mostly a lesson in historiography as one historian's views are played against other views by other historians. The ur-incident of ritual murder comes from 415 when a Christian child was allegedly whipped to death by Jews at Inmestar. How this relates to Purim is not historically clear, but later historians accepted that it had something to do with the tradition of burning an effigy of Haman or punching a person who played Haman. Apparently, Jewish ritual murder allegations don't enter Europe until the 13th century.
One of the early ritual murder cases involved Julian of Norwich. Horowitz seems to accept Jewish responsibility for the death of Julian, or at least he quotes M.R. James and James Frazier of the “Golden Bough” who associate that death with too much drinking that got out of hand, which links it, perhaps, to Purim. (p. 222.)
Horowitz also spends time on the issue of Jewish complicity in the death of Christians during the Persian capture of Jerusalem in 614 AD. He seems to accept that a lot of Christians – in the range of tens of thousands – were killed by Jews. His interest is in describing the treatment of this incident and watching how it gets removed gradually from historical treatments over the years. This is absolutely fascinating, particularly if you are like me and have only a vague familiarity with the incident.
Horowitz ends with a description of the carnival-like character of Purim and the phenomenon of “local Purims” where a community would celebrate its own delivery from destruction. Interestingly, he equates that phenomenon with the British celebration of Guy Fawkes night.
Ultimately, I don't know where we are left with the subtitle of the book. Yes, certainly, Jews acted amazingly like real people, particularly when under the influence of alcohol or threatened with death. Maybe that's the point: we don't have to treat Jewish history like porcelain family heirloom without any blemishes. Jews are people, like all people. Maybe we should treat them that way.
On the other hand, the discussion of Purim, Esther, Amelakites and the rest was surprisingly captivating and educational. I would suggest that any Christian read this to get some depth of understanding of the living tradition which is the book of Esther.
