King David: A Biography (review)

T H E JE W I S H Q UA R T E R LY R E V I E W, Vol. 94, No. 1 (Winter 2004) 153–157 STEVEN L. MCKENZIE, King David: A Biography. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Pp. viii Ⳮ 232. David the First or Richard the Third? This was the question in my mind as I read Steven L. McKenzie’s biography of King David. To summarize its conclusions: David is comparable to Saddam Hussein (p. 22); he was a terrorist and an assassin; he ordered or brought about the deaths of Nabal the Carmelite, Saul and his sons on Gilboa, Abner, Ishbaal, Uriah the Hittite, and finally his own sons, Amnon and Abshalom. The biblical account, admittedly, attributes just one murder to David, that of Uriah, Bathsheba’s husband. But one cannot rely on these sources since they are clearly apologetic, written to clear David of those crimes. The historian should read these sources with this question on his mind: cui bono? And since the deaths of so many people benefitted David, then he must be responsible. This is not all: Michal, the wife of David and daughter of Saul, had no child (2 Sam 6:23). Why? According to McKenzie, because David stopped sleeping with her. Moreover, David made sure that Meribaal , too, would not produce grandchildren for Saul (p. 188). In this case, McKenzie plainly disregards the sources. Meribaal himself was the grandson of Saul, and he had a son, Micah, who in turn fathered a long line of descendents (2 Sam 9:3, 6, 12; I Chr 8:33–40). Is this biography a critical history of King David? Yes, if we follow the usual modern sense of the word ‘‘criticism.’’ But let us remember that ‘‘critic’’ derives from Greek kritēs, which means ‘‘judge.’’ The critical historian is one who renders a verdict on his sources. Now, in keeping with the metaphor of the court, should we accept a judge who convicts defendants who have alibis? Should we admit this argument: you profitted from the crime and you are apologetic, therefore, you are guilty? Certainly not. But this is exactly what the author does here. 1 Sam 27 relates that David attacked the Amalekites and other alien nomads but told Achish that he was harassing his own kinsfolk. McKenzie argues that ‘‘the claim that they never attacked settlements inhabited by Israelite or Judahite people is not historical. These ethnic distinctions were not clearcut , and David would not have had time to check them anyway’’ (p. 104). Is such an argument for disqualifying an account acceptable? Would the author’s arguments apply to the reality of ethnic cleansing in Bosnia and Kosovo? Let me try to define what went wrong here. In my opinion, McKenzie 154 JQR 94:1 (2004) has misued critical method. Instead of impugning the details of the evidence found in the sources, one should begin by asking fundamental questions concerning literary works, their literary history,1 their date of composition, and their literary genre.2 This procedure, too, would not provide answers to all queries, but at least some problems could be solved. I will examine a few examples. Literary history. On the authority of J. van Seters, we are told (p. 103; 196 n.7) that 1 Sam 15:1–16:13 is a late post-Deuteronomic insertion, thus implying that Saul’s fight against the Amalekites is unhistorical. This assertion is doubtful. In the first place, let us note that his allegedly late author does not rely on the Deuteronomic law for the command to wipe out the Amalekites; it is the order of a prophet. There is no sign of a Deuteronomic or post-Deuteronomic date. Moreover, under the surface of a divinely-inspired holy war, one finds the vestiges of a realistic enterprise : ‘‘He was triumphant, defeating the Amalekites and saving Israel from those who plundered it’’ (1 Sam 14:48, NJPS). And Saul’s pompous declaration to the Kenites, which, like holy war ideology, relies on historical reminiscences (1 Sam 15:6), is belied by the fact that Saul was lying in ambush (1 Sam 15:5), which befits a...