The Hezekiah, Sennacherib Narrative as Polyphonic Text

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2009 33: 335Journal for the Study of the Old TestamentPaul S. Evans

Sennacherib Narrative as Polyphonic Text*−−The Hezekiah

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The Hezekiah–Sennacherib Narrative

as Polyphonic Text*

PAUL S. EVANS

Ambrose University College, 150 Ambrose Circle SW Calgary, AB T3H 0L5, Canada

Abstract

2 Kings 18–19 is commonly viewed as an incoherent narrative composed of multiple

sources, necessitating a diachronic approach. However, this hypothesis is only a heuristic

model suggesting we read the pericope in this way. This article instead takes a Bakhtinian

approach, viewing 2 Kings 18–19 as a polyphonic composition which accounts for both

the disjunctions within the narrative and its unity. Viewed as a dialogue of genres (his-

tory-like narrative, direct speech and prophetic oracle) in implicit dialogue, this narrative

is ‘dialogic’ as different voices intersect in this pericope, revealing a plurality of view-

points. A Bakhtinian approach not only allows a fresh exegesis of the narrative but also

has implications regarding the composition of the narrative, allowing the Deuteronomist

more creativity than is often the case.

Keywords: 2 Kings 18–19, Bakhtin, dialogism, polyphony, Hezekiah, Sennacherib, the

Deuteronomist.

* An earlier version of this study was presented at the Annual Meeting of the Society

of Biblical Literature in Washington, DC, November 2006. I would like to thank Barbara

Green, Keith Bodner and other participants of the Bakhtin and the Biblical Imagination

section for their helpful comments.



336 Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 33.3 (2009)

1. Introduction

In recent years scholarship has shown a growing interest in appropriating

the insights of Mikhail Bakhtin for use in biblical studies.1

The scholar

most committed to Bakhtinian reading strategies is unquestionably

Robert Polzin, who has applied Bakhtinian theory in three substantial

works on the Deuteronomistic History covering Deuteronomy through

Samuel.2

While we eagerly await a (presumably) fourth volume from

Polzin that would cover the book of Kings, application of Bakhtinian

theory to the narratives of this biblical book has been largely neglected

so far.3

This has been partly a trend in newer synchronic literary studies

as the earlier books of the Deuteronomistic History have seen more of

the focus than the book of Kings.4

This perhaps reflects the unconscious

recognition of large blocks of unified narrative that source-critical

studies have long drawn attention to (e.g. the Ark Narrative, the History

of David’s Rise, the Succession Narrative, etc.),5

which provide fertile

ground for synchronic studies (and perhaps in a backhanded way point to

1. For a helpful introduction to Bakhtin and a survey of how he has been used by

biblical scholars, see Barbara Green, Mikhail Bakhtin and Biblical Scholarship: An

Introduction (ed. Danna Nolan Fewell; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2000).

2. Robert Polzin, Moses and the Deuteronomist: A Literary Study of the Deutero-

nomistic History. Part 1. Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges (New York: Seabury Press,

1980); Samuel and the Deuteronomist: A Literary Study of the Deuteronomistic History.

Part 2. 1 Samuel (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1989); David and the Deuteronomist: A

Literary Study of the Deuteronomistic History. Part 3. 2 Samuel (Bloomington: Indiana

University Press, 1993).

3. With the exception of the insightful paper by Francisco O. Garcia-Treto, ‘The Fall

of the House: A Carnivalesque Reading of 2 Kings 9 and 10’, in Danna Nolan Fewell

(ed.), Reading between Texts: Intertextuality and the Hebrew Bible (Louisville, KY:

Westminster/John Knox Press, 1992), pp. 153-71. Informed by Bakhtinian theory,

Christine Mitchell has examined Chronicles and compared Chronicles to Kings, but has

not paid any sustained attention to the latter. Cf. Christine Mitchell, ‘The Dialogism of

Chronicles’, in M. Patrick Graham and Steven L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as

Author: Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup, 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic

Press, 1999), pp. 311-26.

4. As Steven L. McKenzie notes, ‘the books of Kings have not been the proving

ground that Judges and Samuel have been [for synchronic literary approaches]’ (‘The

Book of Kings in the Deuteronomistic History’, in Steven L. McKenzie and M. Patrick

Graham [eds.], The History of Israel’s Traditions: The Heritage of Martin Noth

[JSOTSup, 182; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994], pp. 281-307 [296]).

5. L. Rost is the name most associated with isolating these blocks of material (before

him many saw J and E as parallel sources in Samuel). Cf. L. Rost, Die Überlieferung von

der Thronnachfolge Davids (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1926).



EVANS The Hezekiah–Sennacherib Narrative 337

the legitimacy of such source-critical delineations—though these syn-

chronic studies almost unanimously disavow such approaches). Noth

himself viewed the composition of the book of Kings as drawing on few

connected narratives concerning the individual kings of Israel and Judah.

He claimed the Deuteronomist (hereafter Dtr) needed to construct and

compose by himself the account of the monarchy from Solomon onwards

but here he could at least use the chronological system in ‘the “Books of

the Chronicles” to provide a solid framework’.6

Despite this attribution

of creativity to Dtr for the narratives of Kings, Noth largely relied on the

source-critical delineations of his predecessors7

(the novelty of his contri-

bution was in stressing the unity of the Deuteronomistic History as a

whole) and it has been these source-critical questions that have dominated

the study of the book to the present time. Where the book’s compositional

history is not as prominent a focus, reconstructing the history behind the

book’s narratives has otherwise dominated approaches to Kings.8

Most synchronic studies of biblical books have ignored issues of a

source-critical nature to focus instead on the final form of the text. Yet

they fail to offer any other explanation for the origins of the text.9

The

6. Cf. Martin Noth, The Deuteronomistic History (JSOTSup, 15; Sheffield: JSOT

Press, 1981), p. 77. At the same time, however, Noth makes reference to prophetic stories

Dtr drew on. For example, Noth asserts ‘Dtr. had access to the Isaiah cycle as a

composite whole made up of separate elements’ (p. 68).

7. Noth asserts that ‘the literary-critical foundation was laid long ago and has pro-

duced generally accepted conclusions’. He notes ‘the careful analysis of Deuteronomy–

Kings which literary critics have carried out…can be considered definitive. The analysis

has gone astray in one point only…it has tried to explain the structure of the written

history by means of the pre-Deuteronomistic “sources”, whereas the work was not put

together until Dtr.…adapted material which he found in separate stories from ancient

sources’ (The Deuteronomistic History, pp. 2, 76). Noth’s acceptance of these conclu-

sions can be seen throughout his work; see, for instance, p. 20 (Budde), p. 47 (Well-

hausen), pp. 54-57 (Rost).

8. E.g. V. Fritz’s commentary (1 & 2 Kings [Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003]) on

Kings has been criticized for not dealing ‘sufficiently with issues concerning the com-

position of Kings’ but is clearly focused on the history reflected in the book with a focus

on archaeology, identifying toponyms and so on. Cf. Marc Zvi Brettler, Review of

V. Fritz, 1 and 2 Kings, CBQ 66 (2004), p. 619.

9. For example, Polzin (Moses and the Deuteronomist, p. 13) does not elaborate on

the issue of ‘the historical process that led to the formation of the Deuteronomistic

History’ but leaves it as ‘simply an assertion’ of his study that source criticism is

inadequate for the task. There are, of course, some exceptions. Meir Sternberg, for

example, posits Hebrew monotheism as the historical explanation for the genesis of the

text, arguing that monotheism led the Hebrew authors ‘to build the cognitive antithesis




present study does not wish to ignore the issue of the composition of the

text; however, the right headedness of newer literary studies and their

focus on the art of biblical narratives seems obvious to this writer. In this

study, primary attention will be focused on how Bakhtin’s concepts can

allow the critic to view the narrative of 2 Kings 18–19 as a unity. By

positing polyphonic authorship as a heuristic device, the present study

will highlight the potential of such a model for exegesis. Furthermore,

the explanatory power of a Bakhtinian approach may have something to

say regarding the composition of the book as well.

2. The Problem of the Unity of the Hezekiah–Sennacherib Narrative

Ever since the source-critical assertions of Stade,10

scholars (including

Noth11

) have viewed the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative of 2 Kings 18–

19 as the product of multiple sources and the work of several redactors

(usually referred to as the Stade–Childs Hypothesis).12

Historical critics

noted the difference in portrayals of Hezekiah and redundant parallel

sections (such as the second mission of the Assyrian messengers and

the second speech of the Rabshaqeh) in what have become known as

Account A (= 2 Kgs 18.13-16) and Account B (= 2 Kgs 18.17–19.37).13

between God and man into the structure of the narrative’ (The Poetics of Biblical Narra-

tive: Ideological Literature and the Drama of Reading [Bloomington: Indiana University

Press, 1985], p. 46). By monotheism (which he basically defines as omniscience and

omnipotence) Sternberg would explain anything problematic about the biblical narrative

which otherwise called for a genetic theory of compilation. Sternberg further asserts that

‘the Bible’s poetics appears to have sprung full-blown’ (p. 232). This dogmatic explana-

tion for the history of the biblical text seems outside the realm of historical explanation

and is a venture into theological speculation.

10. B. Stade, ‘Miscellen: Anmerkungen zu 2 Kö. 15-21’, ZAW 6 (1886), pp. 156-89.

Brevard S. Childs largely affirmed Stade’s source-critical decisions, but nuanced them

somewhat. Cf. Childs’s Isaiah and the Assyrian Crisis (SBT, 3; London: SCM Press,

1967).

11. Noth, The Deuteronomistic History, p. 137 n. 63.

12. So Ronald E. Clements, Isaiah and the Deliverance of Jerusalem: A Study of the

Interpretation of Prophecy in the Old Testament (JSOTSup, 13; Sheffield: JSOT Press,

1980), pp. 52-71; Mordechai Cogan and Hayim Tadmor, II Kings (Garden City, NY:

Doubleday, 1988), pp. 240-44; John Gray, 1 & 2 Kings (Philadelphia: Westminster Press,

1963), pp. 600-601; T.R. Hobbs, 2 Kings (Waco, TX: Word Books, 1985), pp. 246-49;

James A. Montgomery, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Kings

(Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1951), p. 515.

13. Account A gives an account of Hezekiah’s capitulation to Sennacherib—

something we do not find in any other biblical account and which is not paralleled in




Consequently, the dominant critical hypothesis has been to assume

multiple authorship and redaction. It is assumed that Account A and

Account B are distinct sources with B further comprised of two parallel

sources (B1

and B2

).14

Perceived contradictions within the account also

suggested this division. The first prophecy of Isaiah predicts that

Sennacherib will hear a rumour and then return to his own land (2 Kgs

19.7). This prophecy is not fulfilled in the narrative as it now stands,

since it is the destruction of his army (2 Kgs 19.35) and not a rumour

which causes Sennacherib to return. Therefore, B1

proceeds from 2 Kgs

18.17–19.9a (19.9a fulfills the prophecy of 19.7—when a rumour regard-

ing Egypt is heard), followed by 2 Kgs 19.36-37, which records that the

Assyrian king returns to Nineveh and ‘falls by the sword’.

There is widespread acknowledgment of the validity of these source-

critical delineations; however, these approaches have for the most part

been deficient in recognizing the unity of the narrative as a whole.15

In

some recent studies the coherence of the different sections has been

emphasized by highlighting similar vocabulary16

or by noting the ironic

expectations present in the text (which formerly were viewed as evidence

Isa. 36–37. In this account Hezekiah loots the temple to pay off Sennacherib, contrary to

the second account where he instead goes to the temple to pray.

14. Within the B account Stade discerned two discrete units, subsequently labelled B1

and B2

. Stade detected these units first on the basis of the three different oracles (2 Kgs

19.7, 28b, 33) within the account which all predict that the Assyrian monarch will return

to Assyria. What was problematic to Stade about these oracles was that neither of the

subsequent oracles made reference to the oracle(s) that preceded them (‘Miscellen’,

p. 174).

15. Bakhtin’s critique of traditional scholarship’s approach to analyzing the novel is

apropos here. He wrote, ‘[t]he traditional scholar bypasses the basic distinctive feature of

the novel as a genre; he [sic] substitutes for it another object of study, and instead of

novelistic style he [sic] actually analyzes something completely different’. Cf. Mikhail

M. Bakhtin, ‘Discourse in the Novel’, in Michael Holquist (ed.), The Dialogic Imagina-

tion: Four Essays (Slavic Series, 1; Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981), pp. 259-

422 (263). Similarly, the historical-critical scholar has broken up the narrative into its

putative, discrete elements and focused study on these separate sections rather than the

narrative as a whole—and in so doing misses out on the genre of the text.

16. For example, Arie van der Kooij (‘The Story of Hezekiah and Sennacherib

[2 Kings 18–19]: A Sample of Ancient Historiography’, in Johannes C. de Moor and

H.F. Van Rooy [eds.], Past, Present, Future: The Deuteronomistic History and the

Prophets [OtSt, 44; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2000], pp. 107-19 [109, 107]) has noted similar

vocabulary which serves to provide ‘thematic coherence’, though he claims that the

Stade–Childs hypothesis ‘cannot be denied’.




of discrete sources).17

Despite the use of leitwörter and narratival read-

ings of this text which allow one to read 2 Kings 18–19 as a unity, the

Stade–Childs hypothesis is still prevalent among scholars and the narra-

tive is usually analyzed according to these source-critical conclusions.18

By contrast, new literary critics often reject source-critical analysis

and instead treat texts as if they were produced by one author.19

Some

even suggest that the text actually is the product of one author.20

Thus,

newer literary aficionados and the older source-critical approaches dis-

agree on how much divergence of style and outlook possibly could have

been produced by a single author. For the latter, ideological differences

are evidence of discrete sources; while for the former, they are evidence

of the genius of the author. A Bakhtinian approach to the quandary of the

unity of the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative has relevance for both

approaches to this text as it acknowledges the multivalent voices in a

text, but supposes they have been produced by a single author.

17. For example, Ehud Ben Zvi (‘Malleability and its Limits: Sennacherib’s Cam-

paign Against Judah as a Case-Study’, in L.L. Grabbe [ed.], ‘Like a Bird in a Cage’: The

Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE [JSOTSup, 363; ESHM, 4; London: Sheffield

Academic Press, 2003], pp. 73-105 [85]) notes that Hezekiah’s paying of tribute to

Sennacherib ‘did not produce the expected results’ in Kings due to a desire to ‘demonize’

Sennacherib.

18. In fact, some commentaries deal with the putative Account A and Account B

sections in separate chapters of the commentary. See, e.g., Fritz, 1 & 2 Kings, pp. 362,

365; Robert L. Cohn, 2 Kings (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2000), pp. 125, 128.

19. As Duane Frederick Watson and Alan J. Hauser (Rhetorical Criticism of the

Bible: A Comprehensive Bibliography with Notes on History and Method [BibInt, 4;

Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1994], p. 9) observe, ‘Rhetorical critics normally prefer to leave the

task of recovering the history and life of early Israel to others’. For example, David A.

Robertson (The Old Testament and the Literary Critic [Philadelphia: Fortress Press,

1977], p. 4) explicitly distances the ramifications of such study on the history of the

biblical text, stressing that a literary approach is arbitrary and a decision to apply it to the

Hebrew Bible is only made ‘because we want to’. This is in keeping with its roots in new

criticism which ‘sought to exclude speculation about [a text’s] origins and effects…

[including] the historical context in which the text was produced. There was in fact a

strong anti-historical bias in the New Criticism…’ (Patricia Waugh [ed.], Literary Theory

and Criticism: An Oxford Guide [New York: Oxford University Press, 2006], p. 172).

20. Polzin (Samuel and the Deuteronomist) posits the ‘Deuteronomist’ as his implied

author, but also consistently attacks source-critical positions on the texts he examines and

seems to believe that the Deuteronomistic History was essentially the product of one

author.




3. Key Bakhtinian Concepts

It is true that Bakhtin developed his theories based on the novels of

Dostoevsky, which could call into question the use of such theories in

relation to biblical narratives.21

However, it appears that Bakhtin antici-

pated that his ideas had a broader application than this.22

In his later work

Bakhtin viewed all novels as containing dialogism23

and even went

further to include ‘texts’ in general.24

In fact, it is hard not to think of the

authorship of the biblical books when reading his discussion regarding

authorship. He writes:

The forms of actual authorship can be very diverse. A given work can be the

product of a collective effort [or] can be created by the successive efforts of a

series of generations, etc.—in any case we hear in it a unified creative will…25

According to Bakhtin, then, regardless of whether a text is the product of

one author or the result of the work of multiple redactors, it can be exam-

ined as a unified work. Furthermore, since Bakhtin largely finds such

dialogical authorship in works actually written by one author, the possi-

bility that other such works are the result of unitary authorship can be

considered. In order to undertake a Bakhtinian reading of the Hezekiah–

Sennacherib narrative, the present study will take into account three of

Bakhtin’s major concepts: (1) prosaics; (2) dialogue vs. monologue; and

(3) unfinalizability.

3.1. Prosaics

As is well known, Bakhtin had a preference for prose over poetics and

largely concentrated on novelistic prose. Bakhtin viewed poetry as

21. As Green (Mikhail Bakhtin and Biblical Scholarship, p. 27) has cautioned, ‘[i]t is

obvious that the Deuteronomist is not Dostoevsky’.

22. As Mitchell has argued, ‘Bakhtin anticipated that his theories about dialogism

could have wider applications beyond the novels of this one particular author’ (‘The

Dialogism of Chronicles’, p. 313).

23. E.g. Bakhtin, ‘Discourse in the Novel’.

24. Cf. Mikhail M. Bakhtin, ‘The Problem of the Text in Linguistics, Philology, and

the Human Sciences: An Experiment in Philosophical Analysis’, in Michael Holquist and

Caryl Emerson (eds.), Speech Genres and Other Late Essays (Austin: University of

Texas Press, 1992), pp. 103-31 (121). Mitchell (‘The Dialogism of Chronicles’, p. 314)

suggests this means his theories ‘could be applied to almost any literary text’.

25. Mikhail M. Bakhtin, Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics (ed. Caryl Emerson;

Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984), pp. 3-272 (153).




essentially functioning as if it were a self-sufficient whole,26

and failing

to acknowledge its relationship to other voices (and itself as only one of

many voices). Poetry only acknowledges itself, what it represents, and its

own voice.27

Alternatively, prose can contain multiple viewpoints and

ideologies and acknowledge its place in the heteroglot world. As we will

see, the Bakhtinian view of the characteristics of both prose and poetics

will have important ramifications in our interpretation of the Hezekiah–

Sennacherib narrative.

3.2. Dialogue (Double-Voicing) vs. Monologue

Bakhtin distinguished two types of dialogism or double-voicing. In one

sense, all discourse is double-voiced and Bakhtin viewed all speech as

characteristically ‘dialogic’.28

An utterance (oral or written) cannot exist

in isolation, but is at all times spoken to somebody, expecting an

eventual riposte, and thus can be understood to be in dialogue.29

This

dialogism is invariably derived from the broader language world and

refers to what has already been spoken about, bringing every dialogue

into conversation with the previous speaking (that is, all speech is

double-voiced).30

A second sense of ‘dialogism’ is that which relates particularly to the

novel. In novelistic prose a character may speak and wish his utterance

26. As Bakhtin (‘Discourse in the Novel’, p. 286) writes, ‘The language of the poetic

genre is a unitary and singular Ptolemaic world outside of which nothing else exists and

nothing else is needed’. This is likely the reason formalist critics typically studied poetry

rather than fiction.

27. Bakhtin, ‘Discourse in the Novel’, p. 285.

28. One of the most persistent features of Bakhtin’s ideas was his obsession with

dialogue. He asserted that the ‘utterance’ is the fundamental component of speech rather

than the ‘sentence’ or the ‘word’. See Mikhail M. Bakhtin, ‘The Problem of Speech

Genres’, in Holquist and Emerson (eds.), Speech Genres and Other Late Essays, pp. 60-

102 (67-75). Hugh S. Pyper (David as Reader: 2 Samuel 12.1-15 and the Poetics of

Fatherhood [Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1996], p. 63) has asserted that the unrepeatability of the

utterance is what most characterizes it.

29. As Bakhtin (‘Discourse in the Novel’, p. 280) writes, ‘[t]he word in living

conversation is directly, blatantly, oriented toward a future answer-word: it provokes an

answer, anticipates it and structures itself in the answer’s direction’. Therefore, all speech

is pointed toward what Bakhtin calls the ‘conceptual horizon’ of listener which comprises

assorted social languages the listener uses. Dialogism involves interaction between the

language of the speaker and that of the listener.





be heard as though spoken with ‘quotation marks’.31

That is, the char-

acter is in purposeful dialogue with another voice. This type of ‘double-

voicing’ is referred to as ‘active double-voiced discourse’.32

However,

dialogism in the novel can also be ‘passive’, where the author sounds the

second voice within a character’s discourse and is essentially in control

of the other’s speech.33

Thus, there is double-voicing that characters are

aware of, and double-voicing of which only the author (and presumably,

the reader) is conscious.

The concept of polyphony is closely related to that of dialogism.

Polyphony is a feature unique to prose where various competing voices

engage in dialogue without authorial constraint.34

Bakhtin viewed the

novel as the finest way to represent this ‘dialogic’ value of human dis-

course.35

Within novelistic prose, multiple voices are allowed to be heard

and interact in a way mirroring human experience. In a polyphonic text

the author allows such voices to sound without suppressing some and

privileging others.

Opposite of this ‘dialogue’ is ‘monologue’. The latter conveys abstract

prepositions which can be replicated and stand independent of the utterer

in regards to its truth value and lends itself to systematization.36

Bakhtin

argued that most literature is monologic (even the novel where the

author’s point of view unifies the work).37

Poetry was viewed by Bakhtin

as intrinsically monologic; however, prose can also be monologic when

the author privileges his own voice within the text above all others. The

historical-critical study of the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative in 2 Kings

18–19 has been dominated by such a monologic view of its authorship.

Since the narrative appears to lack monologic unity, source critics have

divided the narrative into discrete units which necessarily must have

come from different authors (thus viewing the narrative in terms of

Bakhtin’s ideas of monologue).

31. Irene Rima Makaryk, Encyclopedia of Contemporary Literary Theory:

Approaches, Scholars, Terms (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1993), p. 537.

32. Green, Mikhail Bakhtin and Biblical Scholarship, p. 51.

33. Makaryk, Encyclopedia, p. 538. Green notes that ‘[r]eported speech may be

doubly-dialogized but passive—some overt and tending toward the more covert’ (Mikhail

Bakhtin and Biblical Scholarship, p. 51 [emphasis original]).

34. Makaryk, Encyclopedia, p. 610.

35. As is well known, Bakhtin found Dostoevsky’s works most adequate in this

regard.

36. As Bakhtin (Dostoevsky’s Poetics, p. 93) puts it, such truth is ‘no man’s thoughts’.

37. Such as in Tolstoy’s novels.




3.3. Unfinalizability

Bakhtin argued against the idea that truth is monological and can be

systematized. Bakhtin viewed things in dialogue as ‘unfinalizable’. Since

everything is in dialogue with an other, the world is open and nothing is

final. Dialogic truth is to be found in the junction of (rather than com-

bination of) multiple voices which are not systematized but each allowed

to speak its distinctive contribution. Dialogic truth lives in a conversation

rather than a singular statement.38

Such a conversation is forever open

(unfinalized). A text which conveys dialogic truth can be labelled ‘poly-

phonic’ due to its inclusion of multiple voices in conversation. In such a

text, there is no clear closure and a variety of ideological positions are

positioned together with no one voice (including the author’s) domi-

nating.

4. Polyphonic Authorship

Conceiving of the possibility of a single author composing a polyphonic

text has implications for reading the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative of

2 Kings 18–19. Despite the general consensus of historical-critical schol-

arship regarding the origins of the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative of

2 Kings 18–19, the process whereby the present text in reality was

produced is unknown. The Stade–Childs hypothesis is simply a heuristic

model which suggests reading the narrative ‘as if’ A, B1

and B2

existed

and were employed in the construction of the story. Rather than assume

such a compositional history for 2 Kings 18–19, the present study will

employ a Bakhtinian model and consider the possibility that the Hezek-

iah–Sennacherib narrative in 2 Kings 18–19 is the product of a poly-

phonic writer.

Suppose that the writer of the narrative was fascinated by the different

portrayals of Assyria in the prophetic literature. On the one hand, Assyria

was described as God’s ‘rod of anger’ (Isa. 10.5) which was employed

by the deity to chastise the chosen people. On the other hand, Assyria

was spoken about as blasphemous and meriting the wrath of that same

deity (e.g. Nah. 1.1-3.17). This writer was intrigued by the relation of

these divergent perspectives and their potential for conflict.

38. As Bakhtin has asserted, ‘unified truth… requires a plurality of consciousnesses’

(Dostoevsky’s Poetics, p. 81).




In order to engage these divergent viewpoints in conversation, the

author employed several traditional genres to create the dialogue.39

One was history-like narrative, traditionally employed to demonstrate

how the God of Israel defeated Israel’s enemies and to criticize the

latter.40

Another genre the author of the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative

employed was direct speech. This genre was often employed within

history-like narrative to express different viewpoints which were to be

contradicted or confirmed by the events of the narrative.41

A further

genre employed was prophetic oracle, which was, more often than not,

utilized to criticize Israel from within and provide alternative (often

unpopular) viewpoints (often in regard to the role of other nations in

Israel’s affairs).42

The author of the later Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative

was fascinated by the way these genres contrasted, particularly in regards

to the conceptualization of Assyria’s role in Israelite history.

4.1. The History-Like Narrative

I have chosen not to refer to the narrative as ‘historical narrative’ in order

to avoid the debate surrounding the character of the biblical narratives

polarized by so-called minimalist and maximalist positions in the

extremes.43

Yet the genre, whether true ‘fiction’ or ‘historiography’, is

properly described as ‘history-like’ without coming down on one side

of the debate or the other.44

Within 2 Kings 18–19 the invasion of

39. As Bakhtin (‘The Problem of Speech Genres’, pp. 63, 66) asserts, there is an

‘organic, inseparable link between style and genre…[w]here there is style there is genre’.

40. E.g. Josh. 6; 2 Sam. 5.17-25.

41. For example, the speech of the Pharaoh and the speech of Moses; one to be

proved wrong, the other to be confirmed as true.

42. As Jeremiah asserted, the prophets ‘from ancient times’ always prophesied ‘bad

news’ and not peace (Jer. 28.8).

43. Cf. the work of the notable ‘minimalists’, Philip R. Davies, In Search of ‘Ancient

Israel’ (JSOTSup, 148; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995); Niels Peter Lemche,

Ancient Israel: A New History of Israelite Society (ed. David E. Orton; Biblical Seminar,

5; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1990); and Thomas L. Thompson, Early History of the Israelite

People: From the Written and Archaeological Sources (Studies in the History of the

Ancient Near East, 4; Leiden: Brill, 1994). Some recent ‘maximalist’ books include K.A.

Kitchen, On the Reliability of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003); and

Iain W. Provan, Philips V. Long, and Tremper Longman, III, A Biblical History of Israel

(Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 2003).

44. Even the term ‘historiography’, which does not necessarily imply the (even basic)

historical reliability of the narrative, can be controversial in regards to genre labelling.

See, e.g., Isaac Kalimi, ‘Was the Chronicler a Historian?’, in M. Patrick Graham,




Sennacherib is described, narrating the capitulation of Hezekiah, the visit

of Assyrian emissaries, the actions of Hezekiah in response and the

defeat of the Assyrians culminating in the death of their monarch.

4.2. Direct Speech

Subsumed within this history-like narrative45

are various events of direct

speech which can passably be labelled a different genre within the narra-

tive. Within history-like narrative direct speech is not strictly necessary

as the author is free to narrate the events devoid of quoting direct speech.

The content of such communications can even be conveyed through third

person narration. This genre simply has voice answering voice with little

narration dividing (e.g. 2 Kgs 18.19-35). The result is a quasi-polyphonic

genre where divergent voices quarrel without narration of adjudication.

Within the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative, the speech of the Rabshaqeh

is striking for its length when compared with other biblical narratives.46

It

is also intriguing that nowhere within the narrative does the narrator

break in and evaluate the speech of the Rabshaqeh.47

We could envision

the narrator commenting, ‘the people heard the blasphemous words’ or

‘the wicked Assyrian threatened God’s people’. But no such intrusion

into the narrative is attempted. This allows the various occasions of

direct speech to be viewed together in a dialogue. Each character in the

narrative represents a voice that represents an individual self, distinct

from the others.

4.3. Prophecy

Bakhtin saw novelistic language as dialogic and heteroglossic, and as

such it exists as a site of struggle to overcome (or at least to caricature)

official centralized language characterized by univocal and monologic

utterances. In the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative, the monologic

Kenneth G. Hoglund, and Steven L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian

(JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 73-91.

45. Bakhtin (‘The Problem of Speech Genres’, pp. 61-62) believed that speech genres

are diverse, but complex speech genres, such as the novel [and this writer would add,

biblical history-like narratives], absorb other more primary speech genres.

46. There are of course poetic speeches which rival its length; for example, Moses’

‘Song of the Sea’ (Exod. 15) and Deborah’s Song (Judg. 5).

47. As Peter Machinist (‘The Rab Saqeh at the Wall of Jerusalem: Israelite Identity in

the Face of the Assyrian “Other” ’, Hebrew Studies 41 [2000], pp. 151-68 [159]) has

observed, ‘one is sorely pressed to think of a text that allows such an open and extensive

attack on an author’s own fundamental institutions and ideology’.




utterance would be the extended prophecies of Isaiah and the novelistic

or heteroglossic work would be the history-like narrative. In academic

study of the Hebrew prophets, it is atypical to characterize a biblical

prophet’s oracles as ‘official’ or ‘centralized’, but rather as revolutionary

or anti-establishment.48

However, supposing that for the author of the

Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative the prophecies of the eighth-century

prophets were, in his time, now seen as authoritative, the monologic

utterances of this authoritative prophet could now be seen as ‘official

centralized language’.49

If this was the case, the novelistic language he

employed in the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative quarrelled with the

now centralized language of the prophets. The former is dialogic while

the latter is largely monologic.50

What also serves to further characterize prophetic oracles as

monologic is that they are largely poetry.51

As noted above, Bakhtin

viewed poetry as essentially monologic, functioning as if it were a self-

sufficient whole.52

The author of the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative

saw this limitation of prophecy and chose to employ heteroglossia in his

novelistic narrative to address this shortcoming. He observed, as did

Bakhtin, that ‘the language of poetic [we could say prophetic] genres,

when they approach their stylistic limit, often become authoritarian,

dogmatic and conservative’.53

Opposing the dogmatic nature of the

prophetic word, the author of the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative chose

to insert the prophetic voice into his narrative as one of several com-

peting voices.

48. E.g. Martin A. Cohen, ‘The Prophets as Revolutionaries: A Sociopolitical

Analysis’, BARev 5 (1979), pp. 12-19; A.J.F. Köbben, ‘Prophetic Movements as an

Expression of Social Protest’, International Archives of Ethnography 44 (1960), pp.

117-64.

49. Even more so if the author was Dtr, who clearly held prophets in high esteem.

50. That is at least as read by the ancient reader who read it as the voice of the singu-

lar prophet and not a compilation from various oracles from various prophets (which

from a Bakhtinian perspective could be viewed as in dialogue with each other as well).

51. As David Noel Freedman (‘Pottery, Poetry, and Prophecy: An Essay on Biblical

Poetry’, JBL 96 [1977], pp. 5-26 [22-23]) has argued, ‘poetry was the central medium of

prophecy’.


53. Bakhtin, ‘Discourse in the Novel’, p. 287. The author’s critical but honouring

attitude toward the prophetic writings may be a key to understanding why narratives

about writing prophets (e.g. Amos, Hosea etc.) are not to be found in his work.




5. The Dialogue of Genres

The Rabshaqeh’s character zone contains several double-voiced utter-

ances.54

His speech contains within it a perspective regarding the role of

Sennacherib in Judah’s existence. The Assyrian orator asserts that

Judah’s own God had sent Sennacherib to destroy Judah (2 Kgs 18.25).

The Rabshaqeh also expresses an alternative view of the religious

reforms of Hezekiah. Rather than view them as pious, the Assyrian views

them as blasphemous (18.22). The Rabshaqeh also slurs Hezekiah,

claiming that the Judean monarch is deceptive (18.29-30).55

As noted above, there is no authoritative narration judging the veracity

of the Rabshaqeh’s words. Instead, Hezekiah’s own first-person speech

is juxtaposed to the Assyrian’s as a counter-voice. Hezekiah declares to

his servants that the voice of the Assyrian ‘mocks the living God’ (2 Kgs

19.4). The quarrel continues with another (albeit much shorter) speech by

the Assyrian emissary (19.10-13). Most historical-critical commentators

give a pejorative estimation of this second message and label it a

‘doublet’.56

The threat is indeed similar in content to the earlier threats

made in person by the Rabshaqeh. However, dialogically, this second

speech utters novel ideas regarding Yahweh’s role in the event. The first

Assyrian threat asserted that their invasion had the backing of the Judean

God (18.25) and warned that Hezekiah was a deceiver (18.29). Now

the Assyrians warn their should-be-vassal not to trust in this God as

this deity himself is also deceptive (19.10). The idea of Yahweh’s deceit

has a dialogic quality here, being found within a quarrel of ideas. As

Bakhtin states, ‘the idea lives…only under conditions of living contact

54. Character zones are ‘territories or fields of action for a character’s speech’. Cf.

Makaryk, Encyclopedia, p. 520. Bakhtin (‘Discourse in the Novel’, p. 316) notes that

these character zones may be formed from ‘fragments of a character’s speech, from

various forms for hidden transmission of someone else’s word and from scattered words

and sayings belonging to someone else’s speech’.

55. Interestingly, the initial first-person speech of Hezekiah appears double-voiced. In

2 Kgs 18.14, Hezekiah’s confession by the hand of the messenger is that he has ‘sinned’

()+x). This admission is double-voiced as it indicates his submission to Sennacherib and

failure to be a faithful vassal, but is also heard in regard to Hezekiah’s moral character as

well. Is Hezekiah’s submission fodder for the Rabshaqeh’s assertions regarding Hezekiah

as deceptive? This would be ironic considering the narrator’s evaluation of him that he

did what was right in the eyes of Yahweh (2 Kgs 18.3).

56. E.g. Fritz, 1 & 2 Kings, p. 369; John Gray, 1 & 2 Kings (Philadelphia: West-

minster Press, 1970), p. 666; Cogan and Tadmor, II Kings, p. 243; Childs, Assyrian

Crisis, pp. 96-97.




with another and alien thought, a thought embodied in someone else’s

voice…’57

So the idea of Yahweh’s integrity or deceitfulness is only

embodied here through the conversation of competing assertions, repre-

senting the polyphony of the text.58

The deceit of Yahweh is also suggested in the history-like narrative

through the humiliation of Hezekiah in 2 Kgs 18.14-15, despite his

aforesaid faithfulness to the deity (18.5-6). The deceit of Yahweh is

clearly voiced through direct speech in the words of the Assyrians. Inter-

estingly, the latter voice is only uttered after another possible narratival

suggestion as to Yahweh’s dissimulation. Following a salvation oracle

through the prophet Isaiah which predicted Yahweh’s repulsion of

Sennacherib (19.7) through the hearing of a rumour and Yahweh’s (first

person) involvement in the murder of the Assyrian monarch, these

expectations are frustrated by a non-fulfillment. A rumour is heard that

the King of Cush is approaching with an army (19.9), but this does not

result in the Assyrian retreat. This turn of events in the history-like story

could lead the reader to question the integrity of the deity who was not

following through with his promises.

This suggests that the speech of the Rabshaqeh is ‘double-voiced’.

This voice (contained in the Rabshaqeh’s character zone), which accuses

the Israelite God, may also be found expressing the voice of the people

in Jerusalem who are under duress and not experiencing the deliverance

due the Zion of God’s throne.59

The Rabshaqeh’s criticism of Hezek-

iah’s reforms may also be double-voiced, representing the opinion of

the people at the popular level.60

These could arguably be viewed as

57. Bakhtin, Dostoevsky’s Poetics, p. 93.

58. It is possible that the author was intrigued by the different portrayals of the deity

himself in prophetic literature. At times, Yahweh was pictured as a refuge for his people,

though ‘roaring’ (Joel 3.16). At others, the same deity ‘roared’ against his own people

(Amos 1.2) and could even be viewed as deceptive (Jer. 20.7).

59. As Peter Machinist has suggested, ‘in the course of Sennacherib’s invasion and

siege, there clearly must have been Judaeans who had doubted or came to doubt the

efficacy and correctness of the Judaean theology and, more particularly, Hezekiah’s

actions, like the removal of high places, designed to shape and promote that theology’

(‘The Rab Saqeh’, p. 163). Hans Wildberger (Jesaja 28–39 [BKAT, 10/3; Neukirchen–

Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1982], p. 1387) has suggested that this passage was a later

addition written by an opponent to the Josianic cultic reform.

60. Or perhaps the opinions of ‘the [Israelite] prophets who did not approve of the

cultic reform [of Hezekiah]’ as Moshe Weinfeld (‘Cult Centralization in Israel in the

Light of a Neo-Babylonian Analogy’, JNES 23 [1964], pp. 202-12 [209]) argued, sug-

gesting that ‘the remarks of Rab-shakeh contain their veiled protests against it’.




examples of ‘active’ double-voicing if the Rabshaqeh was aware of such

popular opinion.61

If this is so, it appears the Rabshaqeh’s double-voicing

is in agreement with the second voice. Therefore, this incident of active

double-voicing is not parody, but appears to be of the stylized variety. In

stylization, an author attempts ‘to make use of someone else’s discourse

in the direction of its own particular aspirations’.62

Here the Rabshaqeh’s

speech sounds the vox populi and ‘does not collide with the other’s

thought, but rather follows after it in the same direction’.63

This quarrel of genres continues in the extended prophetic oracle of

Isaiah in 2 Kgs 19.20-34. This genre seems to be separate somewhat

from the initial oracle of Isaiah (which was typical of oracles found in

history-like narratives in its brevity).64

This extended oracle is repre-

sentative of those found in prophetic books and allows Yahweh to enter

the dialogue in an extended way.65

Penetrating the discussion of

Yahweh’s role in the Assyrian invasion, the deity partially agrees with

the Assyrian, and partially agrees with the Judean monarch. As previ-

ously noted, the Rabshaqeh (speaking for his monarch) claimed that

Yahweh had sent him to campaign against Judah (18.25). Yahweh agrees

with this assertion, declaring that he, himself, ‘ordained’ the Assyrian

invasion and their destructive campaign (19.25). However, in harmony

with Hezekiah’s voice (19.4, 16), Yahweh further announces that he has

heard the Assyrian’s blasphemy (19.27-28).

The interaction of these voices within the text has all the markings of a

dialogue. Each ‘voice idea’ is influenced by the previous one and is aug-

mented accordingly. Initially the Rabshaqeh declares his divine backing

for his campaign (2 Kgs 18.25). This ‘voice idea’ is unchallenged (at

least explicitly) until Yahweh’s reply in the extended prophetic oracle of

61. This is precisely what Montgomery assumes in his commentary. He writes, ‘It is

more important to note that such matters of local religious import were well known to the

wise Assyrian chancellery, which had its “secret service”’ (Book of Kings, p. 488). See

also the dissertation by Peter Dubovsky (‘A Study of Neo-Assyrian Intelligence Services

and Their Significance for 2 Kings 18–19’ [unpublished ThD dissertation, Harvard

University, 2005]) which argues similarly.



64. E.g. 1 Kgs 20.13-14; 2 Kgs 3.17-19.

65. Of course, though representative of the prophetic books, as Christine Mitchell has

pointed out in an unpublished paper (‘Chronicles, Ben Sira, and Inserted Genres’, unpub-

lished paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature, Wash-

ington, DC, 20 November 2006), ‘the placement of a work of one literary genre into the

broader work at hand gives new meaning to both the inserted genre and the broader work’.




19.20-34. However, the warnings of the Assyrian that other gods have

not protected their lands (18.33-35) were interpreted by Hezekiah as

blasphemous. Therefore, in Hezekiah’s first response to the threats he

labels the Assyrian’s claims to be ‘reproach’ (Prx, 19.4). His assertion

is responded to by the prophet Isaiah who agrees with Hezekiah’s asser-

tions (19.6-7), though he does not comment on the Rabshaqeh’s claim of

Yahwistic patronage for his Judean campaign. Isaiah responds to

Hezekiah’s claim of ‘reproach’ (Prx) but uses the word ‘revile’ (Pdg)

which is analogous, but interestingly, not identical (19.6).

The Rabshaqeh enters the conversation again with the second threat-

ening Assyrian speech. This time the claim is made that Yahweh will

deceive Hezekiah, if he should put his trust in this God (2 Kgs 19.10). In

Hezekiah’s response to this threat, he once again describes it as bringing

‘reproach’ (Prx) upon the living God (19.16). Yahweh’s response to this

assertion picks up on the vocabulary of Hezekiah, designating the

Assyrian’s speech as ‘reproach’ (Prx, 19.22). Yet the deity also persists

with the language of ‘revile’ (Pdg) which was used in the first brief

prophetic oracle (19.22). It is as if Yahweh was slowly persuaded of the

truth in Hezekiah’s speech in conversation. The initial words of the

Rabshaqeh, which implied the impotence of Judah’s God to defend them,

merited the label of ‘reviling’ (Pdg) the deity. However, Hezekiah’s claim

that it was ‘reproach’ (Prx) was not initially affirmed. As the conversa-

tion continued and the Rabshaqeh attributed deception to Yahweh’s

character, Hezekiah once again asserted that this was indeed ‘reproach’

(Prx). Seemingly convinced by the dialogue of both the Assyrian and the

Judean monarchs, Yahweh comes to affirm Hezekiah’s initial conclusion

that this was ‘reproach’ (Prx) and castigates Sennacherib for his hubris.

Yet, Yahweh’s voice is only one of many subsumed within the narrative.

Despite the author’s clear Yahwistic theology, there is no monologic

comment to confirm Yahweh’s utterances.66

6. A Canonical Quarrel

The quarrel between the voice ideas expressed by the Rabshaqeh and

those expressed by Yahweh and Hezekiah may be viewed as little more

66. It could be argued that a word from the deity is intrinsically monologic. However,

earlier in the narrative we had Yahweh predict an Assyrian retreat due to the rumour of

an Egyptian force, yet this voice was not confirmed in the text. It remained only one

voice of many.




than characterizations within the narrative. However, the significance of

this dialogue is only truly seen when viewed from a canonical perspec-

tive. Also embedded within the Rabshaqeh’s speech is a classic example

of ‘passive’ double-voicing. Bakhtin distinguished between ‘active’ and

‘passive’ double-voiced words. The former implies the speaker is aware

of the second voice within his utterance and is purposefully entering into

dialogue with it (as we noted with Rabshaqeh sounding the vox populi).

In the latter, the author allows the second voice to be heard through the

speaker’s utterance, but the speaker is unaware of it. In this narrative, the

Rabshaqeh’s words are condemned by pious characters and even the

deity; however, the reader67

catches the prophetic overtones of the Rab-

shaqeh’s utterance and the inner-biblical quarrel they represent. As has

been noted in various studies, the arguments of the Rabshaqeh have

parallels in canonical prophetic literature.68

The author of the Hezekiah–

Sennacherib narrative elevates the heteroglossia surrounding the Rab-

shaqeh’s words into ‘an image completely shot through with dialogized

overtones’.69

In fact, the voice ideas articulated by the Assyrian in our

text virtually ‘plagiarize’ the ideas of the Major Prophets. These pro-

phetic borrowings are the ‘scaffolding’ on which the Rabshaqeh’s words

are set.70

6.1. Who Do You Trust?

One of the main themes in the Rabshaqeh’s speech is that of trust (x+b).

The Assyrian orator decries trusting in Egypt and belittles the latter’s

potency by employing an illustrative metaphor (2 Kgs 18.21). These

disparaging comments regarding trust in Egypt are double-voiced. As

previously mentioned, within the Rabshaqeh’s character zone, the sec-

ond voice in these utterances is that of the prophets. The Rabshaqeh’s

67. Assuming an original postmonarchic readership (probably largely of literati)

which were familiar with the prophetic writings as they existed at that time (pre-

canonical, but perhaps proto-canonical).

68. Cf. Dominic Rudman, ‘Is the Rabshakeh also among the Prophets? A Rhetorical

Study of 2 Kings XVIII 17-35’, VT 50 (2000), pp. 100-110; Ehud Ben Zvi, ‘Who Wrote

the Speech of Rabshakeh and When?’, JBL 109 (1990), pp. 79-92; and Danna Nolan

Fewell, ‘Sennacherib’s Defeat: Words at War in 2 Kings 18.13–19.37’, JSOT 34 (1986),

pp. 79-90.

69. Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination, pp. 278-79.

70. As Phyllis Margaret Paryas explains, in Bakhtinian thought, ‘That component of

the word which reveals that it has already been cited or talked about in the past is termed

“scaffolding”’. Cf. Makaryk, Encyclopedia, p. 245.




perspective regarding trust in Egypt is shared by Isaiah (31.1), Jeremiah

(2.37) and Ezekiel (29.16). The Rabshaqeh (unwittingly) is giving voice

to prophetic assertions.

However, in this passive double-voiced discourse it is informative

to discern whether the author of the narrative (who is in control of the

second voice sounding within the Rabshaqeh’s speech) agrees or dis-

agrees with the prophetic voice. In other words, are the prophets here

‘stylized’ or ‘parodied’? Is the author here attempting to support the

prophetic assertions?

This characterization of Egypt as ineffective is juxtaposed by the

narrator’s description of the Egyptian advance with Tirhakah as at least

partially effective, distracting Sennacherib and his army from its focus

on Hezekiah’s Jerusalem.71

This may suggest that the author disagrees

with these prophetic pronouncements concerning Egypt’s utility. Thus,

this could be an example of ‘parody’ since the author has set up an oppo-

sition to the prophetic voice. However, the author’s apparent respect of

the prophetic voice, revealed in the accuracy of the ultimate fulfillment

in the narrative, cautions us against over-accentuating this possibility.

What is the final word regarding Egypt and its role? There is no closure

in the narrative or authoritative judgment laid down.

A hitherto unexplored area of agreement between the Rabshaqeh’s

assertions and those of the prophets is regarding trust in Yahweh. The

Assyrian disparages the people’s trust in Yahweh as the securer of their

deliverance (2 Kgs 18.30). At first glance, this is completely at odds with

prophetic perspectives.72

However, an interesting parallel is found in

Jeremiah when he cautions his people against trusting in the temple and

their position as God’s Zion to guarantee their salvation from Babylon.

Jeremiah warns against trusting in the deceptive words ‘this is the temple

of Yahweh, the temple of Yahweh, the temple of Yahweh’ (Jer. 7.4). The

temple was closely associated with Yahweh as his dwelling place on

71. In this narrative, the army of Sennacherib never returns to Jerusalem after hearing

of Tirhakah’s advance. In fact, the location of the Assyrian army that is attacked by the

Angel of Yahweh does not appear to be located at Jerusalem at all. The last we hear of

the locale of the Assyrian camp is Libnah (2 Kgs 19.8). As I.W. Provan (Hezekiah and

the Books of Kings: A Contribution to the Debate about the Composition of the Deuter-

onomistic History [Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1988]) insightfully points out, ‘since the whole

thrust of the preceding narrative is that, contrary to Rabshakeh’s claim, Hezekiah and the

people are relying on Yahweh, not Egypt’ and if the rumour of Egypt’s advance is what

saves Jerusalem, then Egypt is to be thanked, not Yahweh (p. 124).

72. Cf. Isa. 7.9; 30.15; Jer. 17.7.




Zion, the cosmic mountain.73

Just as Jeremiah disparages trust in the

divine temple as guarantor of divine defence, so the Rabshaqeh depre-

cates trust in Yahweh as guarantor of divine defence. This analogous

voice idea is significant as Hezekiah in a prayer to his deity brands him

as the ‘one enthroned above the cherubim’, probably meaning enthroned

on the Ark in the Jerusalem temple.74

The Rabshaqeh also seems to inti-

mate a similar critique against trust in the temple when he criticizes

Hezekiah’s removal of altars and high places in favour of the Jerusalem

temple (2 Kgs 18.22).

This repudiation of trust in Yahweh is juxtaposed by the assertion of

Yahweh that he will save Jerusalem—not because of the trust of the

people, but for ‘my own sake and for the sake of my servant David’

(2 Kgs 19.34). This may imply that it is due to Hezekiah’s trust that

Yahweh defends Zion—since Hezekiah is in the place of David as the

Judean king. However, there is no official, explicit declaration of this.

Alternatively, it may imply that Yahweh will defend Jerusalem, irrespec-

tive of Hezekiah and his actions.75

Once again we are left only with the

chronotype where these voice ideas intersect.76

6.2. Divine Patronage

The reason for the Assyrian’s warning against trusting in Yahweh in this

instance also has a double-voiced ring of prophetic truth to it. In 2 Kgs

18.25 the Assyrian declares that Yahweh had sent him explicitly,

claiming ‘Yahweh said to me, Go up against this land, and destroy it’.

This assertion expresses the voice idea of Isaiah 10 where Yahweh

himself calls Assyria ‘the rod of my anger’ (Isa. 10.5) and the deity

substantiates the Rabshaqeh’s words that Yahweh had sent Assyria ‘to

take spoil and seize plunder’ (Isa. 10.6). In fact (as noted above), within

73. As Carol Meyers (‘Temple, Jerusalem’, n.p., ABD on CD-ROM. Version 2.0c.

1995–96) has asserted, ‘The temple building, on a mountain and a platform, replicates the

heavenly mountain of Yahweh’.

74. For example, Montgomery interpreted this as indicating the Ark of the Covenant

with the golden cherubim. See Montgomery, Book of Kings, p. 403.

75. As Richard D. Nelson points out, Yahweh’s deliverance of Jerusalem is not

connected to Hezekiah’s trust in Yahweh since 2 Kgs 19.34 states the motivation to

be ‘for my own sake and for the sake of my servant David’ making Hezekiah’s fid-

elity ‘immaterial at this point’ (‘The Anatomy of the Book of Kings’, JSOT 40 [1988],

pp. 39-48).

76. Green (Mikhail Bakhtin and Biblical Scholarship, p. 56) succinctly defines the

chronotope as ‘the interrelatedness of time and space’.




the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative itself, Yahweh affirms the veracity

of the Assyrian’s claim that he indeed sent him (2 Kgs 19.25). Here

Yahweh’s words are also double-voiced. However, in this case Yah-

weh’s words become a variety of active double-voicing. Yahweh is aware

of the Assyrian’s words and his claim to having Yahweh’s patronage for

his campaign. However, Yahweh’s double-voiced discourse is not

‘stylized’. It seems clear that Yahweh is parodying the Assyrian’s words

in this instance. Yahweh is making use of Rabshaqeh’s discourse (his

claim to divine sponsorship) but not ‘in the direction of [Rabshaqeh’s]

own aspirations’.77

Yahweh parodies the conclusions which the Assyrian

draws from his realization of divine patronage. Yahwistic backing of the

initial campaign did not guarantee Assyrian autonomy and victory.

Contrary to the Assyrians’ view of their military campaign, Yahweh

views the Assyrians as ‘raging’ (zgr) against him (2 Kgs 19.27). Yet,

Yahweh affirms his involvement in the Assyrian campaign—which may

also be an active, stylized double-voicing of Isa. 10.5. In sum, the hetero-

glossia of voice ideas are juxtaposed and allowed to quarrel here. Did

Yahweh send the Assyrians to defeat Judah, or is Sennacherib acting out

of his own hubris? Both voice ideas are expressed in this pericope but

remain unresolved.

6.3. The Narrative Conclusion

The conclusion of the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative records the death

of the Assyrian tyrant in Nineveh at the hands of his sons. However, this

conclusion does not actually answer the questions raised within this

polyphonic work. The description of Sennacherib’s demise contains

nothing within it to suggest that Yahweh was involved (and in some way

fulfilled his promise to have Sennacherib killed in 2 Kgs 19.7). There is

even a gap between the denouement of the invasion narrative and the

account of Sennacherib’s death. It is said that he was ‘dwelling in

Nineveh’ (19.6), implying a continued existence after the previously

described events. Moreover, the author of the narrative does not help out

the reader by providing a monologic comment pontificating on why

Sennacherib died.

In the end, several questions remain unresolved. Was Assyria the rod

of Yahweh’s punishment? Was the campaign into Judah the will of the

deity? Is this description of the death of the monarch tragic, unfortunate,





accidental, matter-of-fact or providential? If the Assyrian campaign was

vigorously opposed by the deity, because Sennacherib blasphemed, the

monarch’s death could be an example of the fate of blasphemers. How-

ever, there is no explicit comment from the author to that effect. This is

despite the willingness of the author to make such comments in other

instances. For example, in the same chapter the author explicitly stated

the reason Samaria was defeated, ‘because they did not obey the voice of

Yahweh their God but transgressed his covenant—all that Moses the

servant of Yahweh had commanded; they neither listened nor obeyed’

(2 Kgs 18.12). Rather than describing in a monologic way why the

Assyrian monarch was killed, he instead describes a dialogue and an

event.

7. Conclusion

Employing a Bakhtinian model which views the Hezekiah–Sennacherib

narrative as a polyphonic text has allowed a fresh analysis of the narra-

tive. As noted at the start of this study, such a model has implications for

both source-critical and synchronic literary approaches to this text.

Regarding the latter, it supports the rationale for reading this text as the

product of a single author. Regarding the former, the varied voices

subsumed within the text are helpfully acknowledged by this Bakhtinian

analysis. Or course, source criticism is not an end in itself but merely

‘the literary spadework for a better understanding of the function and

import of a document’,78

and in this regard a Bakhtinian approach is also

helpful.

Regarding the actual process of composition of the book of Kings, this

study may also have implications for locating the author and his reader-

ship historically. Both the character zone of the Rabshaqeh and that of

Yahweh contain the voice ideas of the writing prophets in the Hezekiah–

Sennacherib narrative. The result is a juxtaposition of genuinely prophetic

voices that quarrel together in the narrative. This dialogic discourse is

obviously oriented toward a particular kind of listener or audience,

implying a particular relationship between the author and his readers/

listeners. Implicitly, both the author and the listener must have had a

common acquaintance with the prophetic literature. Therefore, fixing a

78. Norman C. Habel, Literary Criticism of the Old Testament (Philadelphia: Fortress

Press, 1979), p. 7.




terminus a quo for the composition of the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narra-

tive can be accomplished in tandem with historical conclusions regarding

the completion and/or availability of the prophetic literature for not only

the author but his wider readership. While this observation cannot solve

the question surrounding the dating of this composition, it may point to a

later date for the composition of this narrative than the Harvard School

would suggest.79

Perhaps it is simply anachronistic to suggest that Dtr was a truly

polyphonic writer in the sense that Bakhtin meant. Though Bakhtin

viewed Dostoevsky as a truly polyphonic author, most critics would sug-

gest that Bakhtin was actually wrong in this judgment. But, as Newsom

has asserted, ‘as a theoretical ideal, Bakhtin’s model is significant’.80

Bakhtin’s truly polyphonic author allows other voices in the text to

interact without authorial restraint, which has such striking similarities to

the author of the Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative that perhaps we could

posit Dtr as an ‘unconscious polyphonic author’.81

That is, even if he did

not consciously attempt to leave these disparate voices juxtaposed, that is

in fact what he did. Through appropriating discrete sources, which are

now unidentifiable,82

Dtr composed his narrative, allowing many of these

sources to speak their distinctive voice, while creatively composing the

79. That is, a Josianic author/compiler is probably too early to allow for the

completion and dissemination of prophetic literature alluded to within this narrative. See,

e.g., Richard D. Nelson, The Double Redaction of the Deuteronomistic History

(JSOTSup, 18; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1981).

80. Cf. Carol Newsom, ‘The Book of Job as Polyphonic Text’, JSOT 97 (2002), pp.

87-108 (92). Newsom has suggested reading the book of Job ‘as if’ it was written by a

polyphonic author as a heuristic device. Her approach to the issue of the unity of Job has

inspired the present study (as its title conveys), though I would go further to suggest 2

Kgs 18–19 was actually written in such a manner, even if unconsciously.

81. Newsom suggested the term ‘unconscious polyphonic authorship’ in reference to

the biblical writers in public discussion with Barbara Green at the Annual Meeting of the

Society of Biblical Literature in Washington, DC in November 2006.

82. Though Dtr obviously relied on sources (note, e.g., the identical amount of sil-

ver Hezekiah pays in 2 Kgs 18.13 and in Sennacherib’s annals), these sources cannot be

so easily identified as the Stade–Childs hypothesis would suggest. For recent dissen-

ters to these source delineations, cf. Klaas A.D. Smelik, ‘King Hezekiah Advocates

True Prophecy: Remarks on Isaiah xxxvi and xxxvii//II Kings xviii and xix’, in Klaas

A.D. Smelik (ed.), Converting the Past: Studies in Ancient Israelite and Moabite

Historiography (OTS, 28; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1992), pp. 93-128 (124); Christopher R.

Seitz, ‘Account A and the Annals of Sennacherib: A Reassessment’, JSOT 58 (1993),

pp. 47-57.




narrative himself.83

This explains a number of things: the divergent

viewpoints present in the narrative; the difficulty in precisely separating

the narrative into sources; and the coherence of the narrative and its merit

as a piece of literary art.

The Hezekiah–Sennacherib narrative leaves some questions unan-

swered and unfinalized. This may indicate the author’s ambivalent

disposition towards the canonical prophetic books,84

as well as both

Hezekiah’s and Yahweh’s character. The author creates a dialogue of

voices reflected in the different genres employed and the different

perspectives of the various characters in the text, with Yahweh himself as

merely one of the many voices subsumed within the narrative. Contrary

to monologic readings of the text, there is no authoritative comment by

the author laying judgment in regards to Assyria’s role in Israelite

history. The author allows the truth to be seen in the junction of various

voices rather than in a monologic systematization. Realization of the

unfinalizability of this text is almost certainly more helpful in deter-

mining the function of this narrative than an appeal to hypothesized

sources and basing interpretation on these discrete parts of the text

without relating them to the whole.

83. In keeping with Noth’s view of Dtr as creative author. Recently Van Seters has

attempted to bring back this emphasis of Noth’s and his view that Dtr was not a redactor.

See John Van Seters, The Edited Bible: The Curious History of the ‘Editor’ in Biblical

Criticism (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2006), pp. 261-62. The amount of creativity to

be attributed to Dtr has been the subject of much debate. Some suggest Dtr merely joined

together different sources without change. For example, M. Cogan (I Kings [AB, 10;

Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 2001], p. 95) asserts that the author of Kings ‘does not

seem to have made any effort at erasing the telltale signs of the individual sources; each

was left to speak out in its own distinctive idiom and particular statement—hence its

visibility’. Others call for a recognition that Dtr was actively involved, being not only

selective in his sources, but actually shaping sources and creatively composing parts of

his narrative. As Steven L. McKenzie (‘The Book of Kings in the Deuteronomistic

History’, in McKenzie and Graham [eds.], The History of Israel’s Traditions, pp. 281-

307 [301]) writes, ‘The time has come…to focus more on the creative process, that is to

investigate how Dtr combined and reshaped his sources and added material of his own in

order to make his points’.

84. Perhaps this same ambivalence would explain the curious omission of classical or

writing prophets (other than Isaiah) from the narratives of the Deuteronomistic History.



Documents

The Hezekiah, Sennacherib Narrative as Polyphonic Text