The Book of Judges and Social Fragmentation
This article examines social fragmentation from two perspectives: the micro and the macro. The divisions discussed here are not those between fundamentally different groups, such as Protestants and Roman Catholics, or the pro-establishment and pro-democracy camps. Rather, they are divisions within the Church, within society, and within a single political or religious camp. They resemble the grievances between the tribes during the period of the Judges, rather than the wars between Israel and foreign peoples.
The first, or micro-level, part examines the two incidents involving Ephraim in the narratives of Gideon and Jephthah. By considering the manner in which these incidents are narrated in the Book of Judges, I shall attempt to identify some of the causes of social fragmentation.
The second, or macro-level, part considers the Book of Judges as a whole. I shall argue that one of its themes is the progressive intensification of social fragmentation.
The principal concern of this article is division within societies, churches, and other communities. It is not intended to encourage readers to support one faction against another.
The Micro Perspective: Two Incidents Involving Ephraim
By comparing the accounts of Gideon's and Jephthah's dealings with Ephraim (Judges 8:1ff. and 12:1ff.), we may examine how social fragmentation develops.
The two narratives occupy similar positions within their respective accounts: both follow wars against foreign peoples. They are also similar in subject matter, since both concern discord between tribes. Even the structure of their dialogue is comparable: in each case, the Ephraimites speak first (8:1; 12:1b), and the judge replies (8:2–3b; 12:2–3).
Yet the outcomes are very different.
We shall therefore consider the characterisation of the principal figures and the wider narrative context, in an attempt to identify what precipitated the slaughter of more than forty thousand Ephraimites.
Characterisation: Jephthah's Fault
From the characterisation of the judges, it appears that their personalities had much to do with the outbreak of civil war.
Gideon is portrayed as timid and cautious. Judges 6:14–18 describes how he protests his own insignificance and finds it difficult to believe that he has been chosen as a judge. In 6:36–39, before going to war against Midian, he twice asks the Lord for evidence.
Jephthah, by contrast, is portrayed as impulsive and unwilling to yield once he has gained the advantage. In the dialogue of 11:7–10, when Gilead needs his assistance, he imposes conditions which may reasonably be described as rather ambitious. His words in 11:26–32 also reveal an aggressive manner of speaking.
Two different personalities — one cautious, the other impulsive — naturally produce different outcomes (8:3c; 12:4ff.).
Gideon declares that his own achievements are inferior to those of Ephraim. He acknowledges the Ephraimites' success in capturing the two enemy leaders (8:2–3b), thereby implying that they have already participated in the campaign.
Jephthah, on the other hand, retorts that he had already invited the Ephraimites to join him, and reproaches them for failing to take part. He immediately gathers an army and goes to war, bringing about the deaths of a substantial proportion of the Ephraimites.1
Narrative Context: Ephraim's Fault
Nevertheless, we cannot place the entire responsibility for the civil war upon the judge. The tone and wording of the recorded dialogues suggest that Ephraim also bears responsibility.
In Gideon's account, the Ephraimites obey his instructions, capture the Midianite leaders, and bring their heads to him. There is cooperation between them. Even their question, 'Why hast thou served us thus?', resembles an appeal to a leader, suggesting a measure of mutual respect.
In Jephthah's account, however, the Ephraimites 'gathered themselves together, and went northward' to confront him. They begin with an accusatory question and threaten to burn down his house with him inside it.
Moreover, the River Jordan separated Ephraim from the territory in which Jephthah fought his war. It would not have been unreasonable for Jephthah not to invite them to participate.
By displaying their strength and making unreasonable demands against a background of existing grievances (12:4), the Ephraimites undoubtedly added fuel to the fire and provoked the conflict.
Who Was Right, and Who Was Wrong?
As the saying goes, it takes two to make a quarrel.
Jephthah's civil war arose from the unwillingness of both sides to accommodate one another. Its causes may broadly be divided into four:
(1) the personality of the judge; (2) the attitude of the Ephraimites; (3) inherited prejudices (12:4); and (4) the episode involving Abimelech between the two narratives.
At the very least, this brief analysis suggests that the author did not intend to assign responsibility for the incident exclusively to either party.
This accords with the wider setting of the Book of Judges. In an age without a central leader, when the people did not obey God and the tribes governed themselves independently, the conditions for social fragmentation were already present.
We usually concentrate upon oppression by foreign peoples and upon God's raising up judges to deliver Israel. We pay far less attention to the theme of internal division.
Yet the foregoing analysis suggests that the author wishes to direct the reader's attention to the course of social development. The sins committed by the judges and tribal leaders, together with their consequences, accumulated over time, making Israel's conquest and possession of Canaan increasingly difficult.
I shall argue below that this is part of the author's intention, drawing upon several familiar episodes to demonstrate how the difficulties surrounding the conquest of Canaan are used to illustrate the difference between a people with a king and a people without one.
The Macro Perspective: The Theme of Fragmentation
The Book of Judges appears to develop a theme of progressive social fragmentation, unfolding in successive stages.
Throughout the period of the Judges, God repeatedly raised up deliverers to rescue His people, preventing them from remaining indefinitely under foreign oppression or suffering the complete destruction of their nation.
Nevertheless, the sins of the chosen people and their consequences accumulated with the passing years. These consequences increasingly hindered Israel's conquest and possession of Canaan.
The Song of Deborah
The accounts of the first two major judges make no mention of serious problems of social fragmentation.
Beginning with Deborah, however, we can discern the first signs of division. Although society had not yet suffered any particularly severe internal rupture, the seeds of discord were already visible. From Judges 5:15 onwards, the Song of Deborah refers to tribes which were unwilling to join her in battle: the three and a half tribes associated with Gilead, together with Asher.
Since Deborah's campaign was victorious, the refusal of these tribes to participate had no decisive effect upon the outcome. Yet if such conduct continued, it would sow the seeds of far more serious consequences in the future.
From Gideon to Jephthah
From Gideon to Jephthah, the intensification of social fragmentation becomes increasingly apparent. Towards the end of Gideon's career, he successfully avoids conflict with Ephraim. Yet whilst pursuing the Midianites, he uses his army to exact personal revenge.
The emergence of his son Abimelech marks a further deterioration. Abimelech's rise and fall, through successive acts of enthronement and deposition, bring about divisions which extend to the inhabitants of Shechem themselves. Then, as discussed above, Jephthah kills tens of thousands of Ephraimites.
By this stage, social fragmentation has plainly become far more serious. Disagreements have developed into open warfare between fellow Israelites.
From Samson to the Threat of Tribal Extinction
The life of Samson may be understood as a tragedy arising from social fragmentation. By his time, division within society had reached such a degree that the men of Judah, seeking to preserve themselves, betrayed him and handed him over to a foreign people.
Samson, in turn, carried the city gates towards the hill before Hebron as an act of retaliation. There may be a reason why Samson was compelled to fight almost entirely alone.
Beginning with the tribes' failure to cooperate in Deborah's time, and progressing through internal conflicts and civil war, social fragmentation had reached the point where every household attended only to its own affairs.
The result was that a judge had to defend his people by extraordinary and sometimes bizarre means.
After Samson, another religious division further aggravated the situation, producing a crisis of fragmentation which could scarcely be repaired.
The civil war involving Benjamin then brings social fragmentation to its most extreme point. Significantly, this is also how the Book of Judges concludes.
An incident involving only a handful of individuals, whose full circumstances remain obscure, passes through a series of strange and perplexing events. After the extraordinary episode of the 'delivery of the corpse', it becomes a war in which several tribes unite against one.
Because Benjamin refuses to cooperate, an entire tribe is made to bear the consequences of the crimes of a few worthless men, placing its very survival in jeopardy. What is especially remarkable is that such a large-scale alliance suddenly emerges in the context of civil war, when no comparable unity had been achieved in wars against foreign enemies. It is therefore hardly surprising that the Israelites, who had survived centuries of foreign oppression, came close to extinguishing one of their own tribes in a single internal conflict.
We may thus discern a theme of social fragmentation gradually revealing itself throughout the Book of Judges. Perhaps this theme continued through the later history of Israel, even to the destruction of both the northern and southern kingdoms.
Yet the author of Judges tells us that the cause was the absence of a king. What are we to make of this claim?
No King?
From the foregoing discussion, we have seen that the theme of fragmentation develops throughout the Book of Judges.
The unity which existed shortly after Joshua's death gradually gives way to tribal independence, mutual hostility, and civil war. The final verse of Judges declares that 'in those days there was no king in Israel'. According to the Book of Judges, therefore, the absence of a king was a defining condition of the period.
The author employs the stories of the judges to extol the importance of kingship. By describing the extensive and prolonged fragmentation which developed in the absence of a king, he seeks to demonstrate the necessity of monarchy — a kind of 'national education'.2
Perhaps, then, the author has woven a programme of royal national education into the Book of Judges.
But we must ask whether his analysis — that fragmentation arose because there was no king — agrees with the subsequent biblical record. The history known to the author had not yet reached the glorious reigns of David and Solomon, nor the eventual division of the kingdom.
When we consider the biblical record as a whole, however, it becomes apparent that the absence of a king was not the fundamental problem. When Israel and Judah had kings, their circumstances were hardly better than during the period of the Judges. Their religious problems were never truly resolved.
Even the succession to the throne of the united monarchy involved struggles and warfare. The subsequent division of the kingdom, and episodes in which Israel joined northern foreign powers in attacking Judah, likewise demonstrate that the absence of monarchy was not the root cause of social fragmentation.
We are therefore brought back to the question of human conduct.
If the presence or absence of a king did not fundamentally alter the situation, why could the unity found among the early judges, and again at the beginning of David's reign, not be maintained? Anyone familiar with Chinese history will recognise that much depends upon how a king conducts himself as king.
If the essential questions concern conduct, character, and the exercise of authority, perhaps there are lessons here upon which we ought to reflect.
Government, Church, and People
The lesson for today is familiar enough.
Whether in society or in the Church, leaders must refrain from placing personal interests first or provoking disputes unnecessarily if they are to resolve conflicts. Yet much of what we hear from public figures today, whatever their political position, lacks objectivity. Their statements are too often coloured by excessive personal feeling, personal attacks, and mutual accusations. It is hardly surprising that resentment runs so deep in society. Some officials of the 'Hong Kong camp', and even certain church leaders, appear to have made mockery and ridicule part of their work.
Whatever the merits of the issue under discussion, such conduct merely adds to social antagonism. Government officials may be compared with the judges, though the two are certainly not identical. They have responsibilities to guide society, protect the people, and exercise wisdom in their decisions. To provoke disputes is plainly to fall short of the dignity and responsibilities of their office.
The same principle applies within the Church. Personal grievances are carried into church meetings and even into the pulpit. Different factions become irreconcilably hostile, whilst theological disagreements increasingly turn into personal attacks. The Church itself encompasses a spectrum of views. Differences between denominations are inevitable. Yet if we all profess the same twelve articles of the Creed, surely disagreements which do not concern fundamental questions of right and wrong can be approached with mutual tolerance.
At present, however, it often seems that unity exists chiefly as a slogan displayed upon a banner. What passes for unity frequently moves towards the suppression of dissenting voices rather than their acceptance. To accuse others of being 'hopelessly antiquated' or 'not true Christians' seldom identifies precisely where they have gone wrong. Instead, such language merely creates unnecessary antagonism.
What matters most in being members of one body is not that we employ identical methods, but that we pursue the same ends by reasonable means. Where different methods are reasonable and directed towards a common purpose, love ought to be the banner of the Church. Just as those who profess one faith may call one another brothers and sisters, so they ought to be capable of accommodating differences in practice.
Conflicts among ordinary citizens may be considered in much the same way. Indiscriminately labelling others as people who 'oppose China and bring chaos to Hong Kong', or who have 'betrayed Hong Kong', does nothing to advance the interests of Hong Kong society. Yet such divisions ultimately involve more fundamental differences, such as the hostility between extreme loyalists and radical democrats. These are not the principal subject of this article.
We shall therefore consider the Hong Kong pro-democracy camp as an example. The divisions within Hong Kong's pro-democracy movement resemble those within Protestant Christianity after the Reformation. Where everything must be justified through the interpretation of what is right, different schools of thought inevitably emerge. If minor differences are insisted upon too strongly, fragmentation readily follows.
The pro-establishment camp, by contrast, does the opposite, whatever those in authority decide, one simply supports them. Such an approach, in which allegiance to persons takes precedence over the merits of particular issues, is less likely to produce division.
Following the Reformation, Protestant theology developed into a great diversity of schools. Similarly, the pro-democracy movement contains a wide range of political positions, from moderate to radical. Some degree of division is therefore inevitable. Yet when people fail to accommodate one another for the sake of a common goal, and instead divide according to their preferred methods, the consequences become increasingly serious.
We have consequently reached a situation in which electoral vote allocation fails, and a camp may receive many votes but win relatively few seats. Mutual recriminations follow, producing still further division. Unity appears only for a few minutes when security officers remove members from the chamber.
The Church, similarly, seems to demonstrate unity chiefly when opposing gambling or celebrating Christmas. To overcome fragmentation, we must undoubtedly recognise that our own preferred direction and methods are not the only correct ones. Tolerance and acceptance are indispensable.
Both Church and society are inevitably composed of people who hold different opinions. Accommodating minor differences can strengthen one's own community whilst reducing unnecessary social fragmentation. We must attend to the larger cause, overcoming a common adversary before turning to disagreements of lesser importance.
In the society of today, we ought to begin with small acts of mutual love, setting aside personal interests, abandoning prejudice, and refusing to revive old grievances, lest far more serious consequences follow. Moreover, precisely because every human being has shortcomings, Christians ought all the more to take the initiative in bringing both Church and society together.
1 According to the population figures in Numbers 2:18, together with an estimate of the intervening period, this amounted to approximately half the tribe. ⇑
2 The book may be dated approximately to the period between Saul and David, since it refers to the Israelites as not yet possessing Jerusalem whilst also emphasising the importance of kingship. ⇑