Spatial Dynamics: The Sanctity of Place and Nation in Ancient Judaism

The spatial turn in Jewish studies in the past couple of decades has expressed itself in two major strands:¹ on the one hand, a theoretical exploration of the abstract concepts of space and their interaction with identity, ethnicity, and other social dimensions, as seen in the works of Charlotte Fonrobert and Barbara Mann, among others;² on the other, an engagement with concrete spaces, encompassing the range of geography and architecture, by exploring physical spatial practices such as travel, setting boundaries, and construction of buildings, as seen in studies by Nili Wazana, Catherine Hezser, and Gil Klein.³ Other than the work of Liv Ingeborg Lied, it is rare to encounter a study that is well-versed in both these facets of spatial studies.⁴ Eyal Ben-Eliyhau's new book, alongside his previous monograph (published in Hebrew), offers precisely such a blend that smoothly draws the link between actual practices and lived realities on the one hand, and conceptual implications for identity and ideology on the other.⁵ In a concise manner, Ben-Eliyahu offers a rich survey of diverse sources, contextualizing the rabbis both in reference to their Second Temple precursors and their Christian contemporaries.

Ben-Eliyahu's stated goal is to depart from mere textual analysis and to supplement his previous work with a conceptual dimension (p. xi). This is achieved through a rich theoretical summary (pp. 1–14), in which he clearly places his stance in regards to foundational themes in the study of space. The scope of the body of the book, however, is more limited and defined in its subject matter. In particular, Ben-Eliyahu is very much interested in the relation of ethnic identity and territorial claims, a topic that serves as the primary focus for the first two chapters and remains an interest throughout the study. By contrast, the engagement in the introduction with the work of Lefebvre and de Certeau raises expectations that Ben-Eliyahu will also address quotidian spatial practices.⁶ Such aspects, as the home, the marketplace, the distinction between private and public, or the sacred and the profane, are abundantly present in rabbinic writings. Addressing them could further substantiate his claim about the dynamic nature of spatial construction (p. 155).

Ben-Eliyahu rightfully refers to the "elasticity" of boundaries in the rabbis' approach (p. 104), as seen, for example, in the exemption of cities with mixed populations from the commandments dependent on the land (y. Demai 2:1, 22c; cf. his discussion on p. 105). This elasticity is witnessed in various laws relating to the Sabbath, as noted by various scholars who studied the eruv, perhaps the most notable example from the ancient world of the production of space as an imaginary construct. It is possible that Ben-Eliyahu considers the topic of the eruv to have been exhausted, precisely for this reason (p. 3 n. 4), but ignoring its crucial significance is a glaring omission in this study.

The way the Sabbath laws function as a primary juncture of space and identity, both focalized by time, can be demonstrated by contrasting communal and individual imaginings of space, as modified by the laws of the Sabbath. Thus, m. Eruv. 6:1 requires all the residents sharing a courtyard to agree to the eruv, essentially to participate in this imaginary construction. An individual cannot imagine the court as being effectively unified by the eruv of the courts without this consent, which in practice reflects a joint agreement to create a legal fiction. The Tosefta, however, favors a more lenient approach, by degrading the presence of non-Jews to that of animals (t. Eruv. 5:15). The objectionable dehumanizing of the non-Jew relies on a principle that is already found as a minority view in the Mishnah: those required to take part in this imaginary effort are only those to whom it would apply, namely Jewish neighbors sharing the courtyard. This...