II. MÉTODO
2.6. Aspectos éticos
As noted previously, the peasant revolt model hypothesizes a pattern of develop- ment that appears to be without precedent in the agrarian era. Despite thousands of peasant risings in preindustrial Europe and Asia, only a handful succeeded in toppling an established government, and none of those—except, presumably, Is- rael—followed this up with a social and cultural revolution. Thus, the absence of any historical precedent indicates, at a minimum, a need for great caution when considering this model.
In contrast, the frontier society model hypothesizes a pattern of develop- ment that, as Turner, Leyburn, Thomssen, and others have shown, has occurred a number of times in the past. In fact, it has been the typical pattern of develop- ment whenever new territories have been settled by small farmers acting on their own initiative, rather than under the direction and control of elites based in more settled areas (Leyburn, 1936: ch. 11).
Second, as noted earlier, there is no evidence of significant peasant revolts in Palestine in the thirteenth, twelfth, or eleventh centuries: They have to be as- sumed. In contrast, there is ample evidence of the settlement of new territories and the rapid growth of population in the Palestinian highlands in this period. Furthermore, archaeological evidence indicates that these new settlements were poor and relatively backward culturally compared to the older, established settle- ments in the lowlands (Fritz, 1987). This, of course, is exactly what a frontier society model would lead one to expect.
Third, the frontier society model provides an answer to the question of why Israel got its start in the thirteenth century and not some other, and in the hill country and not in the lowlands or along the coastal plain. It was not until that century that the application of new technologies (iron, rock terracing, slake-limed cisterns) made widespread human settlement in the highlands possible. In con- trast, the peasant revolt model provides no answer to the question of why peasant revolts in the thirteenth century should have been able to accomplish what similar revolts in the fourteenth and other centuries did not. And if the latter model is at least able to provide a plausible explanation of the locational aspect of Israel’s origins, it is no more plausible than that provided by the frontier society model.
Fourth, and perhaps most important of all, the frontier society model pro- vides an explanation, rooted in the experience of other frontier societies, of why Israel so quickly abandoned the distinctive institutional system it initially created (e.g., why it abandoned republican government and adopted a monarchical form of government; why it abandoned the militia system and adopted a professional
army; and why it shifted from a decentralized religious system involving many scattered local shrines, each with its own resident priests, to one increasingly domi- nated by a single royal temple and a high priest.
Frontiers, frontier values, and frontier institutions are transitory phenom- ena, as Turner and others have observed. Once the wilderness is conquered and population and wealth increase, the foundations of the libertarian and egalitarian spirit are slowly eroded, more conventional values take their place, and institu- tional changes become likely.
Norman Gottwald, the leading proponent of the peasant revolt model, re- sponded to my earlier challenge on this point (Lenski, 1980) by suggesting that Israel’s social and cultural reversion following the establishment of the monarchy under David was due to the incorporation of large numbers of Canaanites into the population of Israel following Israel’s conquest of the lowlands. These people, Gottwald (1983: 17) argued, lacked “the social revolutionary history that the high- land Israelites experienced” and thus were not in a position to “comprehend the meaning of joining the social body of Israel as an intertribal movement toward social equality.” He went on to say that “it is by no means clear that David and his monarchic successors were interested in acculturating these newcomers to old Israelite consciousness, since their main agenda was to strengthen the centralized power of the new Israelite state.”
The problem with this argument, as I see it, is that the move away from egali- tarian social institutions began at a time when the highland population was still de- mographically and politically dominant in Israel (i.e., before the conquest of the lowlands). Moreover, the first kings in Israel, Saul and David, were both of pure highland stock. Thus, it seems unfair—and, more important, incorrect—to shift the “blame” for the social and cultural reversion of Israel onto the conquered Canaanites. But the problem for the peasant revolt model is even more serious. If, as Gottwald (1983: 18–19) argued, Israel’s egalitarian social system was a conscious and deliberate collective response to the highly stratified, oppressive, and exploit- ative systems of its Canaanitish neighbors, one would surely expect that the new system would be defended with extraordinary zeal. At a minimum, one would expect a prolonged and bitter civil war between defenders of the old order and proponents of the new. Yet there is little in the biblical account to suggest this: David seems to have encountered remarkably little resistance to his new policies, and even the excesses of his son and heir, Solomon, did not generate the kind or degree of resistance during his extended reign that one would expect if Israel’s egalitarian social system was as intentional as Gottwald believes. But this is exactly what the frontier society model would predict in a geographically expanded state that had by now incorporated the more productive, wealth-producing lowlands, and where frontier settlements had become increasingly marginal economically.
Finally, there is the question of Israel’s new faith and its relation to the com- peting models of Israel’s origins. At the outset, it needs to be recognized and kept firmly in mind that our knowledge of this important aspect of Israel’s culture is derived entirely from accounts that were not set down in writing until many cen-
The Origins and Early Development of Ancient Israel 161 turies after the period in question. Most biblical scholars today agree that our view of this early period, therefore, necessarily reflects to a substantial degree the needs, biases, interests, and experiences of a much later generation of Israel’s reli- gious elite.
Keeping this in mind, we then need to ask what were the distinctive features of Israel’s new religion as reported by later generations of priests and scholars. First, and foremost, there was Israel’s monotheism, which they contrasted with the polytheism of Israel’s neighbors. Second, Israel was described as having estab- lished a unique covenant, or contractual relationship, with its deity: In return for obedience to his laws, Yahweh would provide for the safety and welfare of Israel. These laws included both ritual and ethical elements.
Proponents of the peasant revolt model argue that the religion of early Israel provides strong support for their thesis that Canaanite society, its values, beliefs, and institutions, served as a negative model for the early Israelites, and there ap- pears to be much truth in this view. However, a frontier society model leads to the same conclusion, especially for the earlier phase of frontier experience. Thus, when one compares the two models in this respect, the result appears to be a standoff.
But this is not the whole story. In the centuries following the establishment of the monarchy, the people of Israel repeatedly failed to honor the covenant established with Yahweh. The biblical account reports frequent backsliding, even reversion to Canaanitish beliefs and practices (see, for example, the dramatic ac- count of Elijah’s contest with the priests of the baal). In addition, the new political and economic elites in Israel engaged in a variety of ruthless, greedy, and dishon- est actions that led to harsh condemnations by a succession of preachers, known to history as the prophets. These preachers, or prophets—Amos, Micah, Hosea, and others—proclaimed that Yahweh would exact a terrible vengeance if Israel continued to violate its sacred covenant obligations. Although the lines were not always clearly drawn, there is reason to see in Israel, during the period of the monarchy, a chronic religious and/or ideological struggle between the new politi- cal, economic, and religious elites (i.e., the priests associated with the royal temple cultus) on the one hand and the masses of ordinary citizens and the prophets on the other.1