Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
BY
JAMES BARR
EISENBRAUNS
W inona Lake, Indiana
1987
©1968 by Oxford University Press
Postscript ©1987 by Eisenbrauns
All rights reserved
Reprinted 1987, with additions and corrections,
by permission of Oxford University Press
Printed in the United States of America
T h e research for this book has been done over a number of years,
but the basic information was gathered in the excellent facilities of
the Speer Library at Princeton Theological Seminary. I owe
thanks to the staff of this library, and to Mr. Terence Fretheim,
who as a graduate student and departmental assistant worked on
the collection of data. My first attempt to present the problem in
public was at the meeting of the Catholic Biblical Association of
the United States in the summer of 1964. During 1965 my research
was greatly assisted by the generosity of the John Simon Guggen
heim Memorial Fund, which enabled me to travel in the Near East
and study certain relevant linguistic problems. Among scholars
who have assisted me with advice and criticism I am particularly
indebted to the Revd. John A. Emerton, Reader in Semitic
Philology at Oxford and now Regius Professor-elect of Hebrew
at Cambridge. I owe much to the opinions of colleagues at
Manchester, especially Mr. P. R. Weis, Dr. Meir Wallenstein, Dr.
P. Wernberg-Moller, Dr. J. D. Latham, Dr. T. L. Fenton, and
the late Mr. Arie Rubinstein. Mr. W. G. Lambert of Birmingham
favoured me with an opinion on a point of Accadian. I have been
greatly helped by the excellent secretarial assistance provided by
Manchester University, in the persons of Mrs. Rowena Scaife
and her assistants.
J. B.
The University
Manchester
CONTENTS
II. S O M E E X A M P L E S IN G R E A T E R D E T A IL 14
(1) כלם ‘speak* 14
(2) טוב ‘speech* 16
(3) יקל ‘be impudent, shameless* 17
(4) ידע not meaning ‘know* 19
(5) דעה ‘call* 23
(6) להקה ‘body of elders* 25
(7) ‘ בצ קלוfresh vegetables* 26
(8) נשר ‘herald* 26
(9) אדם ‘pleasant, delightful*and ‘ קולdig, bore’ 28
(10) זמר ‘protect* and ‘ עזיwarrior* 29
(11) A Grammatical Example 30
(12) ‘Enclitic M em* 31
(13) Some General Statements 34
III. SO M E H IS T O R IC A L A S P E C T S 38
(1) T h e D isuse of H ebrew am ong the Jews 38
(2) L inguistic Elem ents in Jewish Interpretation 44
(3) Early Intra-linguistic Relations 50
(4) Aspects of the H istory of Jewish Gram m atical
Studies 60
(5) M ore Recent T rends 65
IV . A S P E C T S O F C O M P A R A T IV E
P H IL O L O G IC A L M E T H O D 76
(1) H istory 76
(2) Sound 81
(3) M eaning 86
(4) G eneral 92
CONTENTS
V. P R E L IM IN A R Y Q U E S T IO N S IN
PH ILO LO G ICA L TR EA TM EN TS 95
(1) G eneral 95
(2) M etathesis and Dialect 96
(3) Loan-w ords and W ords of non-Sem itic O rigin 101
(4) Area Preferences w ithin Com parative Philology 111
(5) Problems of the Lexicographical T radition 115
(6) ‘Aramaisms* and Similar T erm s 121
V I. TH E D IS T R IB U T IO N OF H O M ON Y M S 125
(1) G eneral 125
(2) H om onym s and Com m unication 134
(3) T h e C ount of K now n H om onym s 145
(4) H om onym y and Style 151
VII. TH E D IS T R IB U T IO N OF LEXICA L
R E SO U R C E S IN T H E S E M IT IC
LANGUAGES 156
(1) G eneral 156
(2) Biliteral T heories 166
(3) Semantic Fields 170
(4) W ords w ith Opposite M eanings (’Addad) 173
(5) Patterning of Roots and Com patibility o f
Consonants 178
(6) W ords K now n T hrough Personal Names 181
(7) Lexicostatistics or G lottochronology 184
X I. SOME PA R T IC U L A R L IN G U IS T IC , LITER -
ARY, AND CULTURAL PROBLEMS 273
(1) Onomatopoeia 273
(2) Some L inguistic-cultural Relations 276
(3) Parallelism 277
(4) Religious Factors 282
(5) T h e A rgum ent from A ctuality 285
A p p e n d ix : C o m p a r is o n o f S y r ia c a n d H e b r e w V er bs 305
BIBLIOGRAPHY 310
INDEXES 338
POSTSCRIPT 355
1 Thus the idea that at Num. 23. 10 means ‘dust’ (Index, nos. 294-5)
can be found in a much earlier form in Jacob, Z A W xxii (1902) 111; but the
circumstances of the modem treatments are lacking, even if the suggestion has
the same result.
12 TEXTUAL TREA TM ENT AND PHILOLOGICAL TREATM ENT
may be applicable to the various examples cited. For many exam
ples I have not been able to give a final decision at the point where
each is considered, because this would involve other criteria than
the one at present under discussion and would thus immensely
complicate the presentation. In order to avoid the impression that
a decision is being evaded, however, I have sometimes offered
a summary decision, even if I have not been able to state the
grounds for it in full. In any case the logical structure of the argu
ment does not lie in the rightness or wrongness of individual
examples, each to be decided on its own merits, but in the elucida
tion of the criteria.
(1) ‘ כ ל םspeak׳
Judges 18. 7 has long been considered difficult. Five scouts of
the Danites came to Laish. They found the people living quietly,
with a sense of security; and then the text goes on:
־ו אי ך ס ? לי ם ד ב ר ב א ל ץ
Moore translated ‘there was no one to put them to shame (or,
insult them) in anything’; but he pronounced this to be ‘wholly
irrelevant’.1 Many scholars have emended the text to read:
ו אין מלזסור כ ל ־ ד ב ר ב א ר ץ
—a phrase the strength of which lies in the very similar locution
a few verses later (18. 10). The meaning would then be: ‘there was
no lack of anything in the land’. Moore himself preferred to emend
to מ כ ל א, giving the sense ‘there is no one to restrain (us) from
anything in the land’.
This discussion has thus far assumed for כ ל םthe sense ‘humil-
iate, insult, reproach’ which is normal in Hebrew. If, however, the
difficulty causes us to look for help in the cognate languages, we
at once think of the very common Arabic verb kallama ‘speak ״and
the noun kalam ‘speech, word״.
This Arabic sense, when applied to the passage, gives what ap-
pears to be a good sense, ‘no,one uttering a word in the land’. This
fits well with the quiet security of life at Laish. The removal of
the difficulty thus abolishes the original ground for emendation. I
do not know which scholar first proposed this interpretation; it is
already known to Reider, who in 1954 uses the same evidence for
another difficult passage.
The testimony of the ancient versions may be added. Moore
stated baldly that ‘the versions give no help״. But in Judges the
LXX has two different versions. The B text has καταισχύνων,
which confirms the M T מ כ ל י םby translating it with its usual
sense ‘make ashamed״. The A text, however, has και μη δυναμένους
λαλησαι ρήμα, and the λαλήσαι ‘to speak’ appears at first sight to
confirm the interpretation made from Arabic.1 This is not argued,
however, by Reider himself.
Reider applied this result to Mic. 2. 6. A prohibition, usually
taken to mean ‘do not preach״, is followed by the words: 1י ס
ני ל מו ת.
Reider not only finds here ‘ כ ל םspeech ;״he holds the entire
phrase to be ‘really an Arabism״, corresponding to nasaja l-kalam
‘he forged speech״. The sense is ‘they shall not forge speeches״,
and is parallel to the earlier prohibition of preaching. Reider thus
identifies also a verb 102 ‘forge ״in Hebrew. Previous scholarship
had some considerable uncertainty about the meaning, and emen-
dation has been tried.
We shall not decide whether Reider״s suggestion is right; we
note only some general characteristics of the method:
(a) The existence of a difficulty, with a previous resort to emen-
dation.
(b) A dependence on the text, and, accordingly, a rejection of
extensive emendation, as a starting-point for the philological
treatment.
(c) A use of the ancient versions as a source which may show
that a sense, now disclosed to us only through comparative
philological methods, was already known in antiquity.
1 Further examination, however, shows that the A text should not be inter-
preted in this way; it is not λαλησαι, but δνναμενονς, that comes from מ כ ל י ם. The
form in the Hebrew, whether identical with M T or not, was taken as from י כ ל.
16 SOM E EX A M PLES IN G R E A T ER D E T A IL
(2) * טו בspeech’
Anyone who knows any Hebrew knows the familiar word ב1ט
*good’. There are certain places where this word appears not to
make very good sense. Hos. 14. 3 (EV 14. 2), a passage difficult
also in other respects, seems to suggest that the repentant man
should address God with the phrase * ק ח ~ טו בaccept that which
is good’ (so RSV).
There seems to be something unsuitably condescending in the
idea that repentant sinners should ask God to accept that which is
good, and especially so in the teaching of Hosea. Moreover, the
beginning of the same verse has the phrase ד ב ר י םDD/3V ק חו
which would seem to address the repentant with the command
‘take with you words’ in their returning to the Lord.
It is thus no surprise that Gordis holds ב1 טhere to mean
*speech’. He writes:
The biblical and rabbinic root ‘ ל ב בspeak’ (Cant. 7. 10), from which
‘ ל ב הreport, evil report’ (Gen. 37. 2, Num. 14. 37) is derived (cf.
Accadian dababu ‘speak, charge’), apparently has a cognate ב1ט, ט ב ב.
Thus ל ב הis rendered as ט י ב אby Onqelos and as tbhzvn by Peshitta in
Gen. 37. 2, and by ט א ב אby the Targum on Prov. 10. 18.
For these reasons, along with other aspects of the context into
which we shall not enter, Gordis concludes that the meaning is ‘ac-
cept our speech’. This interpretation appears to overcome certain
of the difficulties of the context; and it furnishes a close parallelism
between ב1 טand ד ב ר י ם, both of which mean *speech’ or ‘words’.
Not only this; for Gordis goes on to cite other places, e.g. Neh.
6. 19:
: גם טו ב תיו דייו א מ רי ם ל פ ני ו ך ^ו־י ז^יר מו צי אי ם ל ו
He renders:
‘His utterances they were wont to repeat to me, and my words they
would bring to him.’
Here טו ב תי לis represented in the LXX (II Esdras 16. 19) by
το ύ ς λό γο υ ς α ύ τ ο ΰ : κ α ι το υ ς λ ό γο υς α ύ το ΰ η σαν λ εγ ο ν τε ς ττρός μ ε
κ α ι λό γο υ ς μ ο υ ησ α ν εκ φ ερο ντες α ύτω .
Previous scholars (Geiger, Low) had proposed an emendation
to ; ט ב ת י וthis is favoured by Rudolph in his commentary,1 and is
1 Esra und Nehemia (1949), p. 137.
* ט ו בs p e e c h 1 17
incorporated in KB.1 It implies that the Aramaic word ט ב אor
‘ ט ב הrumour, report’ existed in the Hebrew of Nehemiah, and
this in itself is of course possible. The proposal of Gordis,
however, seems to suggest that the meaning ‘speech’ is present {a)
without any emendation and (b) without reliance on an Aramaic
loan-word in Hebrew.
A third case quoted by Gordis is Ps. 39. 3 (EV 39. 2), where
נ א ל מ תי דו מי ה ה ח שי תי פ!טובmight then mean2 ‘I was dumb
and silent; I refrained from speech’.
To the three points of general interest raised by our previous
example the following further characteristics may now be added:
(d) Multiple exemplification of the same solution, once it has
first been found. There exists not only one case where ט ו ב
‘speech’ is identified, but several; and these several, after the first
identification is made, appear to support and confirm one another.
Gordis indeed identified yet other instances at Job 34. 4 and
Hos. 3. 5, but he was less sure about them.
(1e) The identification of a new homonym. In addition to the
familiar ב1‘ טgood’ there is another ב1‘ טspeech’ which is horn-
onymous with it. This is not all, for wide recognition has been given
to yet another ב1‘ טperfume’, related to the Arabic fib with that
sense and identified at Isa. 39. 2, Jer. 6. 20, Cant. 7. 10 in senses
like ‘the perfumed oil’ ( ) ה ש מן ה ט ו ב, ‘the perfume stalks’ (ק נ ה
) ה ט ו ב, and ‘the perfumed wine’ () יי ] ה טו ב. Another ט ו בis a
place-name. For yet other homonyms which have been suggested,
see Index, nos. 147 8 ־.
(c) Eitan uses a philological treatment for the first verb in the
verse, but for the second he resorts to textual treatment by conjee-
tural emendation, reading ] י רו מוfrom the verb * לו םbe high’.
(8) ‘ נ^זרherald’
The beginning of Hos. 8. 1 reads:
ר ע ל ־ ב י ת י הו ה# ן3 א ל ־ ח פ ף ש פ ר
1 The text is Aqhat 1 ii 13 ff.; Driver, C M L, pp. 60,164; Gordon, UHt p. 180,
lines 62 if.
* ג ש רh erald * 27
This extremely difficult passage has begotten numerous emenda-
tions and some artificial explanations. Taken literally as it stands,
the text would seem to mean:
*To your palate the trumpet, like the eagle upon the house of the
Lord . . .’
We may think that *palate’ here must mean gums or lips, so
BDB, p. 335a; we may think that the bird is not an eagle but a
vulture, though it is not clear what difference this will make to the
present problem. AV supplied the words ‘he shall come’ before
*like an eagle’, which makes good sense except that the words ‘he
shall come’ are just not there. RSV says:
*Set the trumpet to your lips,
for a vulture is over the house of the Lord’;
and this is a fairly simple emendation, i.e. to read * כיfor’ instead
of the preposition * כlike’. B H 3 doubtfully considers an emenda-
tion which would eliminate the difficult bird; it reads נ צ ר, which
would mean *watchman over the house of the Lord’ and would be
addressed to the trumpet-blower.
A possible philological treatment has been proposed by Tur-
Sinai. On the basis of an Arabic naSSar meaning ‘herald’, who is
thus the one who blows the trumpet, he reads a Hebrew 3^ רor
( נשלthe former would be the more normal correspondence, if the
word was of direct descent from proto-Semitic in both languages,
but Tur-Sinai seems to prefer the latter). The passage would then
mean:
‘Set the trumpet to thy mouth, as a herald . . .’
This gives good sense, with no emendation except for the punc-
tuation.
Tur-Sinai tries the same solution on another passage, Job 39. 25.
In the description of a battle-scene, the war-horse hears something
which in M T is:
ע הTת רו: ש·רי ם וT ־ר ־ע ם
perhaps *the thunder of officers and the war-cry’.
Finding this phrase puzzling, he reads it as
ר ע נ שרי ם ו ה ר ו ע ה
‘the noise and shouting of the heralds’.
28 S O M E E X A M P L E S IN G R E A T E R D E T A IL
In this case, however, an emendation of the consonantal text is
required; moreover, it is doubtful whether the original difficulty
was very great, or whether the new solution is very good. This may
be another instance of a solution which, proposed with some
reason for a really desperate text, goes on to generate similar solu
tions for passages for which a better explanation was already in
existence.
1 See Rabin, Qumran Studies, p. 67 n., and in general his stimulating article
in ScrH iv (1958) 144-61; also Greenfield in H U CA xxix (1958) 204, who refers
to Mishnaic Hebrew as ‘a vernacular raised to a literary language* and again ‘a
language with roots in the daily preoccupations of its speakers—agriculture,
the handicrafts, animal husbandry*.
42 S O M E H IS T O R I C A L A S P E C T S
(g) The model of the ‘vernacular’, often openly illustrated by the
example of ecclesiastical Latin among the medieval vernaculars,
fails to recognize the distinctive sociology of the Jews. Jews were
not like medieval Germans or Englishmen. On the one hand the
Jewish scholar was socially closer than the medieval cleric to the
occupations which in Christendom were ‘lay’; on the other hand
the relation of the ‘lay’ Jew to Hebrew texts as used in study, in
prayer, and in the synagogue service, was infinitely closer than the
relation of the medieval Christian to Latin texts. The respective
places of study and of ‘lay’ vocation were very different.
Linguistically the model we have to consider is rather that of
bilingualism, a situation quite different from the relation of Latin
to the monolingual vernacular speakers of medieval Europe.1
(h) In any case, the question of the ‘vernacular’ status of Hebrew
is not the decisive one for our purpose. It is relevant to our study to
know how widespread the living use of Hebrew was, but in itself it
is not decisive. Our question is not about numbers but about
quality; it is about the mode and the precision of the transmission
of Hebrew meanings. If Hebrew was not widely spoken, then the
transmission of meanings was not accompanied by a continuing
productive corpus of non-scholarly usage. This, if true, narrows
down in an interesting way the field in which we conceive the mode
of transmission to lie; but it in no way decides the question of the
reliability or the perceptiveness of that transmission.
Therefore in arguing, as I have done, against an excessively early
date for the general disuse of Hebrew, and against too categorical a
denial of ‘vernacular’ status for late Hebrew, I by no means imply
that those conceptions of the meaning of biblical words which were
current in late times were therefore ‘right’. Since Hebrew changed
as all languages do, the survival of Hebrew in popular usage would
not have universally favoured the correct transmission of the mean-
ing of biblical words. Since the words which we shall discuss are
ex hypothesi difficult or obscure ones in any case, it is possible that
late colloquial Hebrew would furnish no guide to understanding,
and may even have positively obscured it through the development
of new forms and new senses. Thus the continuity of Hebrew from
1 Such bilingualism is asserted by Kutscher, הלשל] ו ה ר ק ע, p. 10; while Rabin
in ScrH iv (1958) 152 speaks of a ‘trilingual’ situation in the Persian period, and
Goshen-Gottstein, op. cit., p. 135, speaks of a ‘quasi-trilingual’ situation in the
Qumran period. For modern studies of bilingualism see U. Weinreich, Languages
in Contact; von Weiss, Zweisprachigkeit, and literature there cited.
T H E D IS U S E O F H E B R E W A M O N G T H E JEW S 43
the biblical down to the Mishnaic period does not in itself provide
a clear basis for the preservation of the meanings of rare words in
biblical texts. It does, however, make a significant difference to the
perspective in which we approach the whole problem.
(j) If it is true that the Jewish transmission of meanings was of a
scholarly rather than a ‘popular’ kind, this is not as unnatural or
artificial as it has often seemed. On the contrary, the fact of histori
cal linguistic change made natural and necessary a scholarly struc
ture for the transmission and interpretation of meanings belonging
to the older stages. The social preference for that which seems to
belong to ‘the people’ and ‘real life’ should not be allowed to
dominate our assessment of linguistic evidence. Even if it is true
that the main burden of the transmission of Hebrew meanings was
borne by a scholastic tradition, this does not prove anything about
the accuracy of that transmission. That scholars should retain
valuable knowledge of a language long out of popular use is not so
very surprising a thing. Western Europe learned classical Greek
from scholars whose life was lived in a milieu in which classical
Greek, and even Hellenistic Greek, had not been popular usage for
centuries. It is rather ironic that modern scholars, whose own ex
perience of Hebrew is often formed exclusively through scholarly
reading, should regard the transmission of meaning through
scholars in ancient times as a ground for scepticism.
On the other hand, late Jewish scholarship was never of a purely
linguistic type; its linguistic memories were maintained within the
context of religious and legal interpretation, and this in turn may
have reacted upon the senses ascribed to words in the biblical texts.
We shall later examine some instances of this. Moreover, finally,
there was a change not only in the linguistic medium of Palestinian
daily life; there was also one in the medium of scholarly conversa
tion, with the transition from the Tannaitic to the Amoraic period.
It is possible that this scholarly move to Aramaic may have been,
for the transmission of meanings, as important as the popular move
to Aramaic which occurred earlier.
These, then, are some ways in which the situation of late Hebrew
may be relevant for our study. These considerations do not in any
way decide the importance or the place of late Hebrew; at least,
however, they may clarify the perspective in which we regard it,
and open some questions which have too often been taken to be
closed.
44 S O M E H IS T O R IC A L A S P E C T S
Text, pp. 78 f. For a recent consideration of the relation with the New Testament,
P. Borgen, Bread from Heaven (Leiden, 1965), esp. pp. 62-67. See also further
below, pp. 212 and 214.
L IN G U IS T IC E L E M E N T S IN JE W IS H IN T E R P R E T A T IO N 47
additions to the plain meaning rather than replacements of it.
Nevertheless, in a general atmosphere in which such methods were
not only possible but popular and attractive, it is understandable
that certain useful and valid linguistic information, grounded in
actual usage, would escape notice and come to be lost.
The etymologizing treatment of words has its roots far back in
the history of Semitic literature. This popular etymology had no
historical reference, and all the etymologizing of antiquity was alike
in this.1 It was a literary device used in the development of narra-
tive or poetic effect, an interpretative device by which special
meanings were extracted, and (as with Aquila) a translation tech-
nique by which features in the original text which must, because it
is a sacred text, be pregnant with meaning, are reproduced, so far
as is possible, in the translation.
The Bible itself has a number of examples of popular etymology,
especially in personal names. The name Eve, Hebrew ΓΠΠ, was
etymologized in Gen. 3. 20: Adam called her by this name because
she was א ם כ ל ־ חי, ‘the mother of all living’. Here the LXX rose
remarkably well to the occasion, saying that her name was Zoe,
life: Ζωή, o n αϋτη μήτηρ πάντων των ζώντων.
Such etymological plays are beloved of the early story-tellers,
and form part of the dramatic colour, especially at the birth of a
child, but also when a name is changed or some other significant
turn in the course of events occurs. Etymologizing seemed very
natural because most Hebrew names were phrases which had
meaning as other phrases of the language had. Some were prayers,
like ‘( י ח ז ק א לmay God strengthen’) ; some were declarations, like
‘( ע ו ב ד י ה וservant of the Lord’); some were statements of events,
like ‘( א ל נ ת ןGod gave’). The names etymologized in the old
traditions, however, were for the most part not names of the normal
Hebrew type. The explanations of names like Cain or Noah or
Naphtali had an artificiality which did not attach to the under-
standing of actual Israelite names.
To us, indeed, it is clear that some of the etymologies do not fit.
The name ‘Noah’, in spite of Gen. 5. 29, does not come from 0 Π2
‘comfort’; and in spite of I Sam. 1. 20 the name ‘Samuel’ is not
ASPECTS OF COMPARATIVE
PHILOLOGICAL METHOD
(2) Sound
In considering the modes in which the evidence of extant texts is
used in comparative philology, we may first give attention to the
study of sound and sound-laws. As is well known, this played an
important part in the rise of comparative philology, and Grimm’s
law in the field of Germanic is particularly famous among the
general public.
Actually much of comparative philology has avoided a real con
cern with sound in the strict sense, i.e. with phonetics and
acoustics. Its work has, certainly in the Semitic field, been based
for the most part on the written signs. Where work has been done
on the modern languages and dialects, interest in phonetics has been
more immediately necessary. For the older languages, however,
where no direct phonetic information was available in any case,
philology has often devoted its primary attention to correspon
dences of the written signs, and has shown considerable naivety or
vagueness when statements about sound going beyond this were
attempted. When a philologist tells us that a correspondence exists
between Hebrew jzj and Aramaic /d/, and that these represent
different developments from proto-Semitic /d/, he to a large extent
has in mind the letters T and *7 in the Hebrew or Aramaic script,
along with the sounds generally associated with them in the various
modern universities. He probably would not be able to give a
description of the changes in voice production which are involved
in his own statement, and the fact that his statement did not seem
to be dependent on such a description is one main reason why a
detailed philology, including assertions about ‘sound-laws’ and
‘phonology’, could grow up in the company of a very considerable
ignoring of the description of sound.
Philologists have known, nevertheless, that it was in the sound
rather than in the writing that the changes they trace had occurred,
and a very important place is given to the correspondences between
the different languages of a cognate group. Any comparative
82 A SPE C T S O F CO M PA RA TIV E P H IL O L O G IC A L M E T H O D
grammar will furnish a table of the sounds of the (constructed) parent
language, with the sounds into which each has developed in the
later languages. Thus we may hear that proto-Semitic had ft/ {th)>
Arabic /t/, Hebrew /§/, Aramaic /1/ and Ethiopic /s/. Hebrew /§/
then ‘corresponds’ to Aramaic /t/, as in שו רor ר1‘ תox’. If Hebrew
שhas a corresponding שin Aramaic also, as in ‘ ק ד שholy’, this
goes back to proto-Semitic /s/ or is explained in some other way.
An exhaustive statement of such correspondences is part of the
structure of a comparative grammar.
It has remained, however, a matter of some dispute how strictly
the correspondences which are normal are to be taken also as
certain and invariable. One school of nineteenth-century philo-
logists maintained the position that ‘sound laws admit no excep-
tion\ Others, however, have thought it possible to treat the
normal phonological correspondences more lightly. Meir Fraenkel,
for example, tries to argue that the familiar Hebrew |jn ‘syn-
agogue cantor’ is a ‘Hebrew variant’ of the Arabic haddäm
‘servant’. This at once involves a conflict with the usual correspon-
dences, since a Hebrew /z/ corresponds to a /z/ or a /d/ in Arabic,
but not to a /d/ in that language. Fraenkel goes on, however:
However, sound rules are not sound laws. Lagarde and Nöldeke
point out exceptions in the Semitic sound rules. . . . The ears and the
mouth of men are not machines, which follow iron physical laws and
are without exception. We know how the sound laws of Grimm have
been criticized. . . . The tables of sound correspondences, which we
find in Bauer and Leander or in Brockelmann, are correct in general,
but we cannot admit that they are right without exception for all
linguistic phenomena. These are not laws, but only tendencies of sound
change.1
Obviously the question is of vital importance for our subject.
We may consider separately two questions: (1) how far the sound
changes, by which the correspondences between cognate languages
have evolved, are regular; (2) how this applies to the situation of
difficult passages in the Old Testament.
As for the first of these questions the opinion of modern linguists
seems to be distinctly in favour of the regularity of sound change.
To argue this does not require, and indeed is not supported by, the
use of the concept of ‘iron physical laws’, or indeed of ‘laws’ of any
1 H U CA xxxi (i960) 69.
SOU N D 83
kind at all. Examination of the modes by which changes occur,
including the statistical element and the fact that phonetic change
is a social phenomenon, leads still to the assertion that ‘phonetic
change is regular’ and that ‘whenever the proper conditions obtain,
phonemic change occurs without exception’.1
The consideration of dialect adds additional complexity to this
picture without altering it in principle. On detailed examination
the total entities called ‘languages’ may be found to break down into
local diversities, which may have differences from the correspon
dences shown by the standard forms usually quoted. Thus, to take
a well-known example, proto-Germanic /־k/ should become /-x/
(commonly spelt ch) over the whole High German area. Dialect
geography, however, shows that the line between ik and ich is
different from the line between maken and machen2 Thus ‘the
various isoglosses in any bundle seldom coincide exactly’.3 The
units examined in linguistics are not absolute and homogeneous
entities which form separate ‘languages’; remarkable local diversity
exists.
This does not, however, in itself disprove the assertion that
changes are regular under given conditions. It means that the state
ment of the conditions is more complicated than can be achieved
through the simple specification of the language concerned as a
whole. It is thus always possible that the detailed situation in some
area was more complicated than is suggested by a normal corre
spondence such as that between Hebrew jzj and Aramaic /d/.
The existence of dialect (which will be discussed further in the
next chapter)4 and other complications does not, then, constitute
a valid objection to the conception that sound changes are regular.
This regularity is not only an important principle for compara
tive philological operations in general; it is one of particular
importance for philological treatments in the Hebrew Bible. The
passages under discussion are, ex hypothesis obscure ones; the
relations of meaning between them and known Hebrew words, and
between them and suggested Semitic cognate words, are an open
1 Quotations are־from Gleason, pp. 3 9 4 7 ־. Cf. already Saussure, who insists
that phonetic changes are *absolutely’ and ‘perfectly’ regular, Course, pp. 143 if.,
while this does not depend on the use of any simple concept of *law’, ibid.,
pp. 91-95. For another recent summary statement see Robins, pp. 311 f.
2 For a simple statement, with diagram, see Lehmann, pp. 124 f.
3 So Gleason, p. 401.
4 See below, pp. 98-101.
84 A SPEC TS OF C O M PA RA TIV E P H IL O L O G IC A L M E T H O D
question. Since this semantic relation is a very open one, it is desir
able that the phonological relations should be very closely estab
lished ; otherwise we have two loose probabilities or surmises, with
no more coercive factor than the conviction that the result is a
suitable meaning for the text. The looser the phonological corre
spondences, the more the weight of proof must fall on the semantic
suitability of suggestions offered; but semantic suitability, under
these circumstances, is perhaps not much more than mere guessing.
It is wrong that such guessing should be justified by the argument
that phonological correspondences are not rigorously mandatory,
and that the sense achieved ‘fits perfectly weir.
An otherwise unexpected variation from the standard corre
spondences can well be accepted as important evidence where there
is no substantial doubt about the meaning of the terms in question
(no one doubts that ik on one side of a German isogloss means the
same as ich on the other side); but when the philological operation
is being conducted in order to identify words previously unknown
the matter is quite otherwise. The same is true of dialect; it is one
thing to use evidence known to belong to a particular dialect, but
quite another to call a form ‘dialectal’ when there is no evidence
for its belonging to any particular dialect and no series of dialectal
features into which to fit it; this latter procedure, in other words,
is merely using the general idea of dialect irresponsibly in order to
excuse an ignoring of the normal correspondences in a particular
case.
Many examples in the history of philology show how the deter
mination to take phonological correspondences rigorously has led
to the discovery of new rules and thus to the extension of know
ledge. It was precisely because rules such as those of Grimm were
taken to be strict and universal that scholars were forced to worry
over them and through this worrying produced new refinements,
such as Verner’s law relating stress to voicing. If the rules had not
been taken as strict and universal in the first place, the phenomena
would have been supposed to be haphazard and inexplicable, and
no new results would have been forthcoming.
Thus attention to strict phonological correspondence is one of
the ways in which suggestions, which seem at first to be seman
tically satisfying, can be further probed.
The average person would be very likely to affirm the philo
logical identity of English day and Latin dies. Yet this identity does
SOU N D 85
not conform to the normal correspondences, and it appears that in
fact the words are not cognate. If phonological correspondences
were treated as a light matter, these scholarly doubts would have
been swept aside by the impatient sense that the semantic agree-
ment made it unnecessary to consider the problem of the phono-
logical difference. Only strictness in the application of sound
correspondences prevents the student from quick and easy conclu-
sions based on semantic identity or similarity.
In an article in 1956 Ullendorff, listing words held in common by
Hebrew and ancient South Arabian, included the equivalence
between Hebrew ‘ ש פ תplace, set’ and ESA sft ‘give’. This is
semantically an easy equivalence, since a similar spread of meaning
can be easily seen in the common verb ‘ נ תןgive’. Beeston,
however, in a later note, observes that this equivalence involves an
irregular correspondence of sibilants, for the ESA /§/ usually
corresponds to Hebrew ש, as in ‘ ש ל הfield’, ESA sdw. This being
so, Beeston is led to suggest a completely different etymology for
the words in question.1
It is not necessary for us to argue between the suggestions
advanced by these distinguished scholars. What is important is to
observe that the desire to support the normal correspondence is the
motive for further research into the matter. But for such a motive
the semantic obviousness of the suggestion as formulated by Ullen-
dorff would seem entirely satisfying. It is the desire to render
justice to the normal correspondences that leads to a further
examination of the question, and to the offering of solutions which
are more out of the way. Conversely, one can say that where the
rules of normal correspondence have been taken lightly, all sorts
of vague guesses from cognate languages have been offered.2
The statement of the phonological correspondences, then, forms
a kind of basic logic for the work of comparative philology.
1 Index, no. 310.
2 The results of an extremely cavalier treatment of the correspondences can
be seen in the work of John Gray on Ugaritic. See examples quoted in the review
of the 2nd edition of his The Legacy of Canaan by Pope in jf SSx i (1966) 228-41.
Correspondences work in only one direction: when we have established that
Hebrew x corresponds to Arabic y , this does not constitute a proof that Hebrew y
corresponds equally well to Arabic x. The correspondences are reversed if
Ugaritic and Hebrew rbs are related to Arabic rbq and Ugaritic 7m to Hebrew
slm; see Pope, op. cit., p. 231. Pope writes: *Gray appears to operate on the
assumption that it is permissible to reverse any process of permutation or sub-
stitute freely on either side of a phonological equation.’
86 A SPE C T S O F CO M PA RA TIV E P H IL O L O G IC A L M E T H O D
(3) Meaning
Thirdly, we observe that the structure of comparative philology
includes an irreducible semantic element. Even where correspon-
dences in form are emphasized, this should not disguise the fact
that in the setting up of these same correspondences a semantic
element is involved. If we argue that Greek β in certain positions
corresponds to Latin v, and if we exemplify this by comparing
Greek βαίνω and Latin venio, we do this because we think that the
Greek word and the Latin are semantically close enough to be good
evidence. If we use as an example the relation between Hebrew
' ש ד הfield’ and Accadian sadu 'mountain, country’, we imply also
that we can see some kind of possible semantic relationship between
the meanings of the two words, even though this is a relation of
greater dissimilarity than that between βαίνω and venio. Putting it
conversely, it is doubtful whether we would accept words as illus-
trations of a phonological correspondence unless we could perceive
a semantic relation, or a possibility of such relation, between them.
It is true that a series of phonological correspondences can be set
up without this dependence on semantic similarities. Elements
such as inflexions, rather than words supposed to be of like mean-
ing, may be taken as the basis for comparison. In early Indo-
European philology it was the comparison of elements like verb
endings that allowed scholars to avoid the traps involved in the use
of words of like meaning.1 The same can be done in the Semitic
field. The comparison of the Accadian series iprus, taprus, taprusi
and the Hebrew series י ק ט ל, ת ק ט ל, ת ק ט ל יgives information
about vowel and consonant correspondences, even though it is
known that semantically the function of the Accadian tense is not
the same as that of the Hebrew tense. It is thus to some degree
possible for a series of phonological correspondences to be set up
without major semantic decisions about the similarity or dis-
similarity of the meaning of words.
Nevertheless only a sketchy comparative phonology could be
built up on this basis alone. Comparative philological works
usually contain long strings of actual word comparisons. Thus
Brockelmann2 gives a list of words all meaning 'beard’: Arabic
daqan, Hebrew ]pT, Syriac daqna, Accadian ziqnu. No semantic
1 On this see Jespersen, Language, p. 38, with reference to the work of Rask.
2 Grundriß, i. 335.
M E A N IN G 87
difficulty is involved. But sometimes the semantic relations are
more complicated. In Hebrew TftX means approximately ‘say’;
but the Arabic ’amora is rather ‘command’, Accadian amd.ru is
‘see’, and Ethiopic ’amara, ’ammard is ‘know’ or ‘show’. This may
be in vague terms ‘the same word’; but the relation between the
meanings is much less simple and obvious than with the words for
‘beard’.
A large number of the decisions involved in setting up a system
of phonological correspondences contain, then, a semantic element.
Where possible, philologists may try to use for their basic corre
spondences examples where the semantic element is minimal
(such as inflexional affixes and the like) or where it would be
accepted as highly obvious (such as a series of words all meaning
‘beard’, as quoted above). Nevertheless almost all comparative
grammars will use semantic criteria in setting up their lists of
correspondences and providing illustrations.
One reason for this is the statistical variation in the frequency of
the different phonemes of a language. Where a phoneme occurs
frequently and in a variety of contexts, it may be relatively easy to
obtain evidence of series of cognate words in which it occurs. In
other cases the evidence may be much more sparse, and therefore
more ambiguous. In Indo-European, for instance, the incidence
of the phoneme /bh/ was very much higher than that of /b/. It is
correspondingly more difficult to produce a convincing multiple
demonstration of the occurrence of realizations of jbj in the
various languages. This rarity means that scholars will probably
scan with greater caution the semantics of words purporting to
illustrate the correspondence. In Hebrew the incidence of 2? is
substantially lower than that of (say) 57, and this is one of the
reasons why the phonological correspondences involving the
sibilants are a matter of greater uncertainty; and since there is some
uncertainty about the normal correspondences, greater weight
must lie on the semantic convincingness of examples quoted.
Moreover, Semitic languages use in inflexional affixes and the like
only a very limited number of their stock of consonant phonemes,
and 2? is not one of them. Thus all attempts to state correspon
dences for 127 involve the semantics of individual words.
In the research operations of comparative philology the scholar
uses a list of basic correspondences which have been built up
wherever possible with plentiful examples and with the use of words
88 A SPE C T S OF CO M PA RA TIV E P H IL O L O G IC A L M E T H O D
(or grammatical elements), such as the words for ‘beard’ just cited,
which do not present immediate semantic uncertainties. Only
because this list is fairly stable can the more adventurous research
into the highly doubtful words be undertaken with confidence.
This, however, introduces us only to the elementary aspects
of semantic problems in comparative philology. The meanings of
words were not only used in order to construct a basic series of
correspondences; study had also to be given to the various mean
ings of cognate words in different languages, and to the historical
change of meanings in temporal stages of the same language; and,
as in our philological treatments of the Hebrew Bible, compara
tive methods had to be harnessed to the task of discovering
meanings.
In the Semitic language field, one may assert without injustice,
the classical discipline of comparative philology showed a much
greater weakness in questions of semantics than in other aspects of
its work. Its careful and meticulous erudition in the classification of
forms and the tracing of their history was not matched by an equal
sophistication in the semantic area. Here on the contrary a remark
able degree of naivety and even some considerable guesswork is to
be found, while purely quantitatively the work put into aspects like
phonology and morphology was vastly greater than that put into
semantics. In such respects one may say that semantics formed the
Achilles’ heel of comparative philology.
For this weakness on the semantic side it is not difficult to sug
gest some reasons. Firstly, the generally empirical emphasis of
comparative philology encouraged an emphasis on forms rather
than on meanings. Forms are empirically attested in a way that
meanings are not. This is true in spite of the constructive character
which, as we have seen, attaches to the work of comparative philo
logy. Even schemes which are highly creative and constructive can
cite actual forms which are attested, being reducible to visible signs
on paper or other mediums of writing. Such forms are the hard core
of evidence on which philological constructions rely and to which
they can in the last resort be referred.
In contrast with forms, meanings are rather slippery to handle.
What kind of empirical evidence is there for the meaning of a form
at this time or that ? The evidence for what was written at such-and-
such a time, and, behind that, the evidence for what was audibly
heard at such-and-such a time, appears to have a hard and tangible
M E A N IN G 89
character which does not apply to assertions about what was meant
at the same time.
The historical emphasis of comparative philology reinforced
this failure to develop semantic doctrine. In the history of forms
written evidence may enable us to know just when any particular
form was in use. Even within the history of forms, we may note, it
is a much more precarious matter to decide when a form came into
use or fell out of use; for the empirical evidence, in the nature of the
case, is normally only of use and not of non-use, so that for non-use
one is dependent on one of the less desirable forms of argument
from silence. It is a still more uncertain and complex operation when
we move from forms to meanings and try to state just when and
how and why one meaning changed and was replaced by another.
Such historical semantic judgements are indeed possible where the
development of a language and literature can be followed from a
series of contemporary documents, as is the case in medieval
French, or indeed, to some extent, in the Old Testament itself as we
move from the older documents to the later. But historical philo-
logy has never been satisfied to follow the course of development
documented by extant documents; it has also sought to reconstruct
the history of the time before such documents existed. But for this
period, naturally, no empirical evidence exists. This has damaged
the study of semantic changes much more than it has damaged the
study of form changes.
Phonological development, as traced by comparative philology,
seemed to show a remarkable unity. If the phoneme /t/ passed over
into /t/, it seemed to do this by a more or less universal drift, which
affected the language as a whole and was largely (though not neces-
sarily entirely) independent of questions of meaning in particular
words. Such a change could be historically fixed in relation to
other changes, so that an historical account could be given in relative
sequence, even if no exact chronological data were available.
This kind of precision and logicality was not available for se-
mantic change. Historical approaches did not succeed in making it
fall neatly into sequence. For instance, we may suppose that the
Hebrew מנ ח הunderwent a change of meaning from the more
general ‘offering’ to the more particular ‘cereal offering’ which is
its sense in Leviticus. This change of meaning, however, has
nothing to do with general characteristics of words with the con-
sonants jmj or /n/ or /h/, and the understanding of it cannot be
9o A SPE C T S O F C O M PA RA TIV E P H IL O L O G IC A L M E T H O D
reached by gathering evidence empirically discernible through the
presence of certain consonants. The change is, indeed, something
that can be well studied through considering other words in the
same semantic field (such, for example, as the rise to prominence
״n r ® ; but the study of this involves us at once in a much more
literary and less empirical type of analysis. The movement of word
meanings is not easily statable in the general form which sound
changes have, for it depends on forces operative within, and pecu-
liar to, the particular semantic fields concerned.1Thus, though any
semantic change may gradually have come to exert influence on
the language more generally, semantic changes do not provide an
easy means of setting up a relative linguistic chronology such as
can be furnished on the basis of sound changes.
The comparative emphasis, like the historical, tended to make
an appreciation of semantic realities rather more difficult. We all
know the type of philologist who, when asked the meaning of a
word, answers by telling us the meaning of its cognates in other
languages. This over-etymological approach is the result of exces-
sive reliance on comparative thinking. The meaning of a word is its
meaning in its own language, not its meaning in some other. To
say this is not to deny that it is of considerable interest to know the
meaning of cognate words in cognate languages. But the character-
istic procedure of many scholars has been to start with comparative
data; and the attempt to state the meaning in the actual language
under study (in our case, Hebrew) has often been biased by a
striving to fit this meaning into a possible derivative process start-
ing from the comparative material. Thus the comparative emphasis,
which has done so much to clarify fields like phonology and morph-
ology, has often tended to confuse the field of semantics.
One prominent semantic operation is the statement of
analogies.
There is a familiar Hebrew word ב ט חwhich means ‘trust, feel
safe’. This is commonly related to the Arabic bataha; but this latter
means rather ‘prostrate, fall down, lie low’. Scholars have some-
times maintained that the latter sense exists in the Hebrew also. It
has been identified at Jer. 12. 5:
: ו ב א ר ץ ש לו ם א ת ה ב ו ט ח ו אי ך ת ע ש ה בג און ה י ר ד ן
(4) General
Thus far we have spoken of comparative philology as a study
which sought to provide comparative historical statements organ
izing the data from the various languages of a group, in our case the
Semitic family. But the period in which this work was at its height
(the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries) was also the period
in which large numbers of new texts from ancient times became
known. It was a time of discovery; inscriptions were found and
published, new texts and indeed whole new languages became
centres of scholarly awareness. Accadian and Ugaritic are the most
prominent Semitic examples; in Indo-European a similar situation
was formed by the discovery of Hittite and Tocharian.
The importance of this is that philological scholarship had to
deal not only with the organization of known linguistic evidence
but also with the processing and interpretation of new material. In
all this exploration comparative insights were of great importance.
Comparative methods, indeed, were not the only ones used.
Egyptian hieroglyphic was deciphered, and the grammar and
lexicon of this language worked out, without any substantial body
of comparative material to serve as a guide; such help as was pro
vided came from bilingual texts, and from later stages (Coptic) of
the same language. Some languages, Sumerian for example, came
to be known, even though no comparative affiliations have been
certainly discovered.
Nevertheless comparative studies have often formed a very large
part of the scholarly apparatus used in work on a new text or a new
language. If a newly discovered Phoenician inscription contains a
word not previously known, the scholar will at once start to look
more widely around in the Semitic field. In the case of Ugaritic
the meaning of the texts has been worked out through a network
of comparative information which gradually became more refined.
This network provided by comparative identification eventually
fixes the contours of the poems sufficiently well for us to make good
surmises of the sense of words for which no comparative explana
tion can at present be given.
The decipherment of entirely new texts thus gave a high prac
tical importance to comparative philology; and the occupation of
so many scholars with the study of new texts contributed to the
great upsurge of philological, as against textual, treatments in
GENERAL 93
recent decades. Nevertheless this practical application of compara
tive philology was not without its dangers to that subject itself. It
meant that many scholars, when they used comparative perspec
tives on a language like Ugaritic, were not comparative philologists
in the strict sense, and did not make themselves responsible for the
total task of synthetic organization of data from the Semitic field.
The primary interest of the scholar was to find an interpretation of
a new text. In the zeal and pressure of discovery, he might use
comparative methods in a way which, if it had been part of a truly
systematic comparative philology, would have been seen to be
inviable. The use of abnormal phonological correspondences is a
prime example. If these occurred so freely and so generally as is
implied by the philological suggestions of some scholars (if taken
cumulatively), then their effect would be no less than to shake the
whole fabric of comparison which philologists themselves have
carefully worked out. Thus a wide use of and appeal to comparative
philology does not necessarily mean that philological methods and
insights have been properly used or observed.
Another aspect of comparative philology which calls for com
ment is that it has, on the whole, been lacking in introspection into
its own methods and has often failed to provide a satisfactory
justification for each decision as it was reached. To some extent
this is a natural effect of the working out of the method, and can be
seen in classic works such as Brockelmann’s Grundriß. The logic
by which comparative philological decisions are made includes the
use of an extremely complicated series of examples, many of which
present in themselves a series of different problems which demand
different answers. The complication of providing a rigorous logical
demonstration for every element in the structure of a comparative
grammar would therefore be immense.
One of the ways in which this difficulty has been met has been for
the philologist to present his results rather than his argument: a
kind of great hypothesis, which asks the reader to accept it as true
if he finds that it covers the data. Within such a corpus we often
look in vain for an argued justification of any particular section.
The method as a whole is taken to be common ground, and its
practical success in accommodating the evidence is the reason for
accepting it. This may help to explain the apodeictic and assertive
air of many philological treatments: it springs from the general
mode of operation of comparative philology.
94 A SPE C T S O F C O M PA RA TIV E P H IL O L O G IC A L M E T H O D
In contrast with the historical and developmental emphasis of
the older philology, modern linguistics has laid greater stress on the
synchronic study of a language, as it operates at a particular time
as the means of communication of a speech-community. This does
not remove an interest also in the diachronic study of language.
Indeed, it can be argued that language study can be truly historical
only when it works with a picture of succeeding synchronic states
of the language as a whole, and that in this respect the older philo
logy with its emphasis on historical development, because it failed
to see the languages as synchronically functioning systems, para
doxically failed to be historical. By isolating the elements from the
system within which they worked, it sometimes actually tended to
damage historical appreciation.1
To sum up, then: an appreciation of philological treatments of
the Hebrew Bible has to include a sympathetic but also critical under
standing of the discipline of comparative philology from which
they arose. On the one hand, the earlier forms of this discipline
contained certain weaknesses, the effects of which later appeared
in individual suggestions applicable to Hebrew. Some of these
weaknesses can be mended if account is taken of more modern
developments in the study of language. But my argument by no
means depends on a kind of linguistics entirely different in scope
from the older philology. The questions which we shall have to
uncover and develop were already very plainly present in the older
procedures. And, on the other hand, where philological treatments
of the Bible have been faulty, this has often been not because of
weaknesses in the basic philological discipline, but because the
canons of that philological discipline itself were poorly observed
by those who built upon it.
1 For an earlier criticism of ‘atomistic* study see Goshen-Gottstein in ScrH
iv (1958) 101 ff.
V
PRELIMINARY QUESTIONS IN
PHILOLOGICAL TREATMENTS
(1) General
I f a word in the Hebrew Bible is to be identified, not as the
Hebrew word which it has normally been taken to be, but as
another word known from cognate sources elsewhere in Semitic,
it is clear that an immense learning would be required for the
proper handling of the matter. One would have to know not only
that such-and-such a word exists in Arabic or Syriac or Ugaritic,
but also where it is used, in what connexions, and with what
frequency. One would have to consider yet other Semitic langu-
ages, since evidence in another such (possibly Accadian or South
Arabian) might conceivably make it impossible to maintain the
simple connexions conceivable if only Arabic or Syriac is taken
into account.
Many philological treatments do indeed rest upon such an
encyclopedic scholarship and upon a refined judgement in the
wide fields of the Semitic literatures. It must nevertheless be
confessed that this required degree of erudition has not always
been present. It is possible, though it is not desirable, to short-
circuit some of this learning. The instrument which permits such
a short-circuiting is the dictionary. It is not a superhuman task to
learn what the dictionaries of the various Semitic languages are,
and to become familiar with their various scripts and their modes of
ordering material. Once this is known, all that is required is to
know the possible correspondences for any given Hebrew word
and look them up one by one.
The number of such correspondences will depend on which
consonants are involved, and which languages. For a Hebrew כ ת ב
the student would have to consider only one correspondence in
the Arabic dictionary, namely k-t-b. For a Hebrew ע ז ב, on the
other hand, he would have to consider more. The עcould normally
correspond with either a /'/ or a /g/ in Arabic; and the T could
96 Q U E S T IO N S IN P H IL O L O G IC A L T R E A T M E N T S
correspond with either a /d/ or a /z/. There would be theoretically
at least four possibilities. In the event there might well be less,
for not all of the groups theoretically possible might be in use in
Arabic. But where ‘weak’ letters such as /w/ are involved, the num-
1_ _ ״ ״c — __ _ u 1״ _____________ ״ t >_______ _____________ ״a .
O ci U i p U S b lL U I iU C Ö JLilitJ UC I c t i g C . J t u p c 111 <X I C C C l l t <UL 1C 1C U1JL 111J \ u
below, pp. 116, 162, 165 f., 16911., and that of glottochronology in general,
below, pp. 184-7.
1 Cf. above, p. 90.
116 Q U E S T IO N S IN P H IL O L O G IC A L T R E A T M E N T S
will normally classify a word at the beginning by reference to a
Semitic comparative etymology.
Apart from etymology some modern dictionaries may include
words anc. senses which are too specialized or too remote to form
a good parallel to a Hebrew word.1When the sense ‘deceitfulness,
vain speech’ for Arabic haraba has to be found from Dozy (i. 356),
and when even there it depends on the peculiar form hurbayr, this
is strong evidence that the sense is a special development within
Arabic, and unlikely to be applicable to Hebrew ( ח ל בIndex,
no. 138). The normal sense in Arabic is ‘destroy’.
Much more serious problems attend us when we consider the
practice of the ancient and medieval lexicographers. Mention has
already been made of the large size of the vocabulary recorded for
Arabic, and anyone who has done even a little work with a large
Arabic dictionary such as Lane’s knows of the bewildering variety
of meanings which can be registered in it. With some further
experience the scholar often comes to have some scepticism of
explanations which rest entirely upon the Arabic dictionaries, for
experience has shown him how easily some kind of suitable sense
for a difficult word can be gained from them. The best analysis
known to me of the problems as they impinge upon the Old
Testament is by L. Kopf; and, having no specialized competence
in this field, I shall refer to his work and state the main points as
I understand them to be.2
Firstly, the great Arabic dictionaries familiar to Western scholars,
such as those of Frey tag and Lane, do not rest directly upon the
literature itself, and are not formed by excerpting and citation
from actual texts, but are themselves compilations from older
Arab dictionaries. Sometimes interpretations within these older
dictionaries have suffered misreading or misunderstanding on the
part of later workers, whether within the development of Arabic
lexicography or in the process of translation into English or Latin.3
So industrious a user of the Arabic lexicon as Driver can thus be
1 See Materials for the Sumerian Lexicon iv (Rome, 1956), p. 32, 1. 55. For
some discussion of silu see von Soden in Orientalia N .S . xvi (1947) 81-3, xviii
(1949) 402; Goetze inyC.S ׳i (1947) 256, n. 19. Goetze attaches the word to the
Arabic verb sala*a *split, cleave’.
2 For a helpful survey see Driver, *Hebrew Poetic Diction’, V T S i (1953)
26-39; earlier, Kautzsch, Aramaismen. A recent full survey is by M. Wagner.
122 Q U E S T IO N S IN P H IL O L O G IC A L T R E A T M E N T S
between phenomena which are not normal Hebrew at all and
phenomena which are only statistically unusual.
(2) Se condly, usage may be identified by means of an appeal to
Aramaic, where this usage has not previously been recognized as
existing in Hebrew though it is well known in Aramaic. The
identification is intended as an identification of a normal, if un
common, usage in Hebrew. Many cases which probably fall into
this category can be found in the literature. Thus at Isa. 57. 13,
1 So, somewhat obscurely, BDB, p. 937a, who further add confusion by citing
the word under the root ‘ רי בcontend’, although they do not themselves believe
this to be the right meaning.
2 Nyberg, Hoseabuch, p. 38 f., also wants to retain the text; he thinks of an
Assyrian deity, referred to in the text as ‘the Melek Yareb’.
3 Cf. also the quotation from Guillaume, above, p. 34.
124 Q U E S T IO N S IN P H I L O L O G I C A L T R E A T M E N T S
books, cannot be extended therefrom over other books which are
not the product of the same translation process. Some particular
examples which will be cited in this book do, nevertheless, come
from works which contain these special theses.
To sum up, then, the above four categories classify the ways in
which terms like ‘Aramaism’ seem to be used.
VI
(1) General
P h i l o l o g i c a l treatments tend to increase the number of
homonyms known to exist in Hebrew. The method frequently
implies that a familiar word had alongside it another word of
identical or almost identical form. The rarer homonym then be-
came concealed or forgotten through mistaken identification with
the more familiar, or may otherwise have fallen into disuse. Philo-
logical research is able, from its resources in the cognate languages,
to identify a homonym thus lost; and since treatments do not
generally identify words which previously were formally com-
pletely unrecognized (to do so would usually mean departure
from the consonantal text) a substantial proportion of new
identifications are homonymic with a word already known.
Nevertheless the cumulative implications of this multiplication of
homonyms have seldom been noticed.
A good example is ע י ר, familiar in the sense ‘city’. A homonymic
‘ עי רexcitement’ (root ‘ ע ו רarouse’) has been identified for one or
two places, principally Jer. 15. 8 ‘ ע י ר ו ב א ל ו תexcitement and
terror’, by BDB and others.1 Driver, however, here finds another
word, ע י רmeaning ‘invasion’, cognate with Arabicgara. At Deut.
34. 3 (customarily ‘city of palm-trees’) and some other places he
identifies an עי רwhich is not ‘city’ but ‘small depression’. At Job
3. 8 he finds yet another word, the root of which is ע י ר, meaning
‘revile’, in the phrase ‘ ה ע תי ד י ם ע ר ר לוי תןthose who are ready
to revile Leviathan’. This involves taking the parallel phrase as
( א ך ר י ; םm t ) א ך ך י יו ם, meaning ‘those who curse the Sea (i.e.
sea-monster)’. This verb is cognate with Ethiopic taayydra ‘re-
vile’, Arabic gara II ‘revile’. This sense ‘reviling’ was also applied
by Guillaume to the phrase at Hos. 11. 9: ו ל א א ב ו א ב ע י ר,
which was put by BDB under the word for ‘excitement’ (though
with some doubts about the text).
1 BDB, p. 735b. The word * עי רcity’ is registered on p. 746.
126 T H E D IS T R IB U T IO N OF HO M ON Y M S
Nyberg meanwhile had seen at this same place an ancient word
עי רfor ‘fire’ or ‘heat’. Gray discovers another ‘ עי רinmost recess
(of temple)’ at II Kings 10. 25, and Dahood has an ‘ ע ך י םgods’
which at least in the plural is homonymous. To all this we may
add a verb )?( ע י רmeaning ‘bore’, found only at Isa. 50. 4, and
cognate with the Arabic gara ‘sink in the earth’, gar ‘pit’, which
gives to the phrase ] י עי ר לי אזthe sense ‘he boreth me an ear’.
The reader, unless he is experienced in the literature of philo-
logical treatments, will probably have found this account some-
what bewildering. Yet the situation I have described is far from
an uncommon one. There are several homonyms if all, or even if
most, of the scholars concerned have been right in their identifica-
tions. Something can, indeed, be done to sort out this list of real
homonyms, near-homonyms, and apparent homonyms, and we
shall shortly offer some distinctions which will help in classifica-
tion. But one could continue indefinitely with the mere listing of
new homonyms in Hebrew identified in the course of philological
treatments.
What I have not found is any perception that the production by
scholars of such large and increasing numbers of homonyms con-
stituted any kind of problem or difficulty. The identification of
roots and the organizing of the vocabulary with adequate distinc-
tion of meanings has long involved the discrimination of homony-
mic roots, and this has been a creative and salutary part of the
progress of lexical studies. One does not therefore see at once how
a process which has solved problems for so long may now begin to
create fresh problems.
Several aspects of homonymy will now be discussed in general,
in order to establish some preparatory approaches to the matter.
The following distinctions provide a preliminary analysis of
various kinds of homonyms relevant to our subject:1
(1) Some homonyms are products of phoneme mergers
traceable through reference to other Semitic languages, and
when this is so it may be possible to separate them clearly.
1 Homonymy was known to Arab and Jewish medieval scholarship; the usual
Arabic term was muitarik and the Hebrew שם מ שו תף. Distinctions of types of
homonymy were drawn up, but are more logical than linguistic in character and
do not correspond with our present series. Homonyms for our purpose mainly
fall within the class which Maimonides called ‘absolute homonyms*, see Efros,
Maimonides’ Treatise on Logic, p. 59. For the Arabic term see Ibn Khaldun,
Muqaddimah (ed. Rosenthal, 1958) iii. 26.
GENERAL 1 2 7
Driver identified the first word עי טas a word meaning ‘lair, den’,
cognate with Arabic gata, and thus different from the more
familiar ‘ עי טbird of prey’, which follows. If this is right, the sense
is roughly:
‘Is my heritage a hyena’s den, with birds of prey around it over-
head?’2
1 The obvious case in Arabic is /s/. One may contrast s-k-r ‘be drunk*
( = Hebr. )שand s-k-r ‘close* ( = Hebr. 0 in 0 ;)ג רlikewise in the verbs samara,
samuray one would distinguish the sense ‘converse by night, stay awake* ( =
Hebr. שin ש מ ד, if BDB, p. 1036a, is right; otherwise GB, p. 847b, KB, p. 993a)
and the sense ‘nail’ ( = Hebr. 0 as in ) ס מ ר.
2 This solution involves also the identification of צ ב ו עas ‘hyena*; cf. below
p. 235. For gata (y) intravit et latuit cf. Freytag, iii. 306b.
GENERAL 129
—rather than the more familiar (but not very clear)
‘Is mine heritage unto me as a speckled bird of prey? Are the birds
of prey around it?’ (RSV).
If this identification at Jer. 12. 9 were right, and if /'/ and /g/ had
merged into one phoneme in Hebrew before Jeremiah’s time, then
the two words were homonyms, and it is possible that play on the
two homonyms may have been part of the writer’s intention.1 If,
on the other hand, the merger had not yet become complete, there
would be no homonymy and the words would be distinct in sound as
well as in meaning; the writer might then still be supposed to have
played on assonance, but not on homonymy. It was long thought
that in the biblical period /'/ and /g/ were still distinct and that
Greek transcriptions like .Ta£a and JTo/xoppa proved this even for
quite late times; but, since the incidence of these Greek spellings
appears not to coincide with the difference between the consonants
in the probable etymologies of the Hebrew words, this opinion is
no longer generally held.2 In my judgement, the mergers listed
above (p. 127) were probably already complete in the later
biblical period, if not earlier. We may only mention also that, if ש
were pronounced generally like D (cf. Judges 12. 6), this would
produce certain homonymies, while if שwere pronounced like ש
it would produce certain others. In general, however, it does not
appear that study of the date of the mergers will make a very
great difference to our estimate of homonymy in general, though
it may pose intriguing problems in particular cases.
To summarize, then: it is useful to distinguish, among the total
group of homonyms, between those which can be related to
phonological mergers and those which, within the limits of our
present knowledge, cannot be so related.
(2) Secondly, it will be useful to consider a distinction between
complete and partial homonymy. Where homonymy is complete,
all items in the paradigm of a word will coincide with the corre-
sponding parts of its homonym. Where homonymy is partial, it
will be found only in part of the range of the paradigm. There is a
rare construct plural ש ב ע תwhich is found from both ש בו ע
‘week’ and ‘ ש בו ע הoath’ and is thus in a way a homonym; but
Here many scholars, noting that from the acrostic form the
half-verse should begin with ע, have exploited the άνομοι of the
Greek to write a subject ; ע ו ל י םand, since this makes the wicked
into the subject of the first verb, either one must emend to נ ש מ דו
142 TH E D IS T R IB U T IO N OF HOM ONYM S
or follow Driver and say that the נ ש מ רוof M T means ‘are cast
out’.1
In any case, our example shows how the familiar ‘ ש מ רkeep’ is
taken to have a homonym which is so sharply opposed in sense as
to make confusion likely. A context in which persons are ‘preserved’
by God is a context in which we might also hear that they are
‘cast out, rejected’. A similar treatment by Tur-Sinai at Job 14. 16
gives the sense:
mt ט א •ת יT עז מו ר ע ל ־ ־־ח ל א־ ת
: ·
1 Torrey, Second Isaiah, pp. 289 fF., and KB take these senses as related in
origin; even if true this does not much affect my argument.
TH E CO U N T OF KNOW N HOM ONYM S 147
‘wilderness’ but also the hapax legomenon usually taken to
mean ‘speech’ or ‘mouth’. Occurring as it does (4. 3) within a list
of the physical characteristics of the woman, the use runs little risk
of confusion. But at least these examples are found together within
the same texts.
It is different with the ,,X ‘not’ of Job 22. 30 *’j?T‘״,X. Assuming
that this is not a textual error (as KB takes it to be), it is possible
that it belonged to the vocabulary of Job but not to that of the
classical prophets. Conversely, Job does not use *,X for remote
lands, islands, jackals, or goblins, although these are all themes
which might well come within the purview of his poem. Thus it is
possible that this homonymy, though it appears in the catalogue
structure of the lexicon, did not in fact operate; and the same
argument could be made for the *,X which appears twice in
Qoheleth. Thus although a dictionary is forced to register perhaps
four words of the form *,X, it is also possible that in the usage of a
particular place, time or style only two possibilities, or even only
one, existed.
Once all these various considerations and qualifications have
been taken into account, the gross number of some 500 homonymies
involving nouns may be reduced to a number of practical
homonymies, involving nouns in such a way as to create any real
ambiguity or conflict, of a few dozen in all.
We should consider not only how many forms there are which
have homonyms but also, where a form has homonymy at all, how
many homonyms it is likely to have. The received dictionaries
may from time to time list as many as four, five, or six homonymous
words, but such cases form a small proportion of the total number
of homonymies.
Thus under *?!״X, according to BDB, there are four homonyms,
meaning ‘ram’, ‘chief’, ‘pillar’, and ‘tree’. One may wish to modify
this: the first and second might be classed as a polysemy; the sec
ond and the fourth do not actually appear in the absolute singular
form which we have quoted. But there are still probably three or
four homonyms, and we can even add more if we take the construct
form 1?X (the writing as 1?*,X makes no difference for our purpose);
for then there is the familiar divine name 1?X, and also, whether it is
‘a different word’ or not, the 1?X (sometimes taken to mean ‘power’)
of the phrase *,,T ^X*?~t2P. Thus for the form 1?X (1?״,X) we
could possibly speak of six homonyms.
148 T H E D IS T R IB U T IO N O F H O M O N Y M S
Perhaps a better example is that of כ פ ר. BDB, GB, and KB
register four homonyms, with meanings of ‘ransom’, ‘pitch’, the
name of 21 plant, and ‘village’. But the third is a plant name and
the fourth is conceivably a dialect form.
In any case this situation with four homonyms or more is
relatively rare. There are four also with ח רו ץand with צ י ר, and
more precariously with צ ר. But of the total number of forms
where homonyms occur, the vast majority among the nouns offer
only two possibilities, once proper names are excluded. Only
quite rarely have large clusters of identical homonyms, with
like grammatical function and excluding proper names, achieved
general recognition.
With verbs, as with nouns, the dictionaries often list what appear
to be homonyms, but on examination these turn out to be from
texts of widely separate provenance, so that no synchronic homo-
nymy occurred. Of the four homonymic verbs ע נ ה, the second
(‘be occupied’) occurs only in Qoheleth, which book, however,
does not use the third (‘be afflicted’)—though affliction, one might
say, is a ;prime theme of this author—or the fourth. Possibly ע נ ה
‘sing’ was losing ground before the more frequent ( ש י רwhich alone
had a noun ‘song’ to go with it), and by the time of Qoheleth was
obsolete, thus enabling the newer ‘ ע נ הbe occupied’ to find a place.
The word ‘ ג א לdefile’ occurs in Deutero-Isaiah, in which ג א ל
‘redeem’ is also prominent. One might expect therefore to find
some considerable conflict. It is interesting therefore that prac-
tically no overlap of actual forms occurs, the only case being the
form נ ג א ל הat Zeph. 3.1. The forms usually registered as niphal
and hiphil are both unusual forms, which do not occur for ג א ל
‘redeem’- נ ג א ל ו ־and א ג א ל תי. Thus actual homonymy of forms is
very slight, and possibly the avoidance of homonymy has fostered
the production or retention of the peculiar verbal forms. Caution
must, however, be exercised, because forms which are not attested
may nevertheless have occurred.
Another relevant test is a comparison of the incidence of
homonyms in Hebrew and in the other Semitic languages. It
would be paradoxical if philological treatments produced in
Hebrew an incidence of homonyms greater than that which is
found in the other Semitic languages themselves.
The incidence of homonyms might be expected to vary in
TH E CO U N T OF KNOW N HOM ONYM S 149
relation to the phonological changes in the prehistory of each
language. Where phoneme mergers have been frequent, the
incidence of homonymy should be expected to be higher. Other
things being equal, there should be more homonyms resulting
from such merger in Hebrew than in Arabic and Ethiopic, but
fewer than in Accadian or Mandean. It is in fact not unlikely that
Hebrew roughly occupies such an intermediate position. This,
however, is far from an exact account of the matter, because
phoneme merger is not the only cause of homonymy. The in
fluence of loan-words, for instance, has also to be considered, and
is quite high in Accadian, with its many Sumerian words.
Preliminary surveys I have done in two languages fairly close to
the circumstances of Hebrew, namely Ugaritic and Syriac, do not
encourage us to suppose that Hebrew had an incidence of homo
nymy substantially higher than has already been recognized; on the
contrary, they suggest that the normal degree of homonymy was
somewhat lower. The Ugaritic glossary, when studied cursorily,
appears to display numerous homonymies; but most of these
would disappear when the texts were vocalized. One can, for
instance, expect that hmr ‘ass’ would be as distinct in Ugaritic
from hmr ‘clay, mud’ as is the case in Hebrew. The same would
apply to rh ‘spirit’ and rh ‘smell’. In Ugaritic verbs a number of
homonymies can be found, but not very many. With hwy, for
example, there is no overlap of themes; the verb ‘bow down’
occurs only in a theme unknown for hwy ‘live’. In some cases,
homonymy appears by the reconstruction of one scholar but not
by that of another. There are two homonyms slh according to
Gordon (i. ‘send’, ii. ‘cast’ or ‘beat out’ a metal), and Driver
construes the situation in the same way; but Aistleitner tries to
include both under the same word (his no. 2610). The form t<T
from the verb ‘sweat’ is registered under yd* by Driver and thus
becomes homonymic with y d ' ‘know’; but Gordon has it under
d' and Aistleitner under (w)d\ in which cases it would probably
not be homonymic when vocalized. The number of clear cases of
homonymy in the Ugaritic stock of verbs, once the necessary
qualifications are made, is quite low.1
1 Driver’s glossary appears to yield 16 cases, if we exclude cases like nd (i.e.
nwd) and nd (i.e. ndd); they are: *any, b*l, hwy, hrr, }iss, t*n, yd*, kss, *ms, *ny, qry,
sb*t slh, tr, t*r, t*r. But a considerable number of these would be considered
doubtful and are otherwise construed by other scholars. Some others are not
true homonyms by the criteria we have already established above.
150 T H E D IS T R IB U T IO N O F H O M O N Y M S
Syriac is another language which like Hebrew can present,
when surveyed in the dictionary form, remarkable groups of
‘homonymic’ roots. A good instance is that o f'rb, for which Brock-
elmann registers ten separate entries as against the six in Hebrew
according to BDB; but very few of these have really overlapping
homonymic/oms. In Syriac we have the advantage of a discussion
of homonymy on fairly modern philological principles, by Schul-
thess (1900). His discussion, however, is of homonymic roots, and
does not explore the somewhat different problem of homonymic
forms. The total number of roots discussed by him is forty-eight.1
I have also tested Syriac by taking the number of homonyms
beginning with a particular letter. Brockelmann marks only four
real homonyms with first radical /d/:
dgl (1) ‘aim’ (2) ‘lie, deceive’
dwl (1) ‘move’ (2) no real homonymy (3) ‘serve, be humble’
dwq (1) ‘pound’ (2) ‘inspect’
dH (1) ‘neglect’ (2) ‘cover, close’.
Dll and drr, though marked, are perhaps not real cases.
In Syriac, if the general incidence of homonymy were the same
as in Hebrew, one would expect the proportion including /d/ to be
higher than in Hebrew, because Syriac /d/ results from merger of
/d/ with /d/, while pre-Hebrew /d/ became jzj in Hebrew. In so far
as such merger is a cause of homonymy, one would expect a higher
incidence in Syriac. In fact the incidence is lower than that already
recognized for Hebrew. BDB, even if we eliminate some im-
probable entries (like two words ) ל ג ל, offers fairly good examples
such as
‘1) ‘ )מדברwilderness’ (2) ‘speech’ or ‘mouth’
1) ‘ )מלוהsickness’ (2) ‘garment’ (p. 551b)
1) ‘ )דלdoor’ (2) ‘poor’
1 Though Schulthess discusses the way in which homonyms come into exis
tence, he has, typically of the older philology, no thoughts about the problem of
communicative efficiency, and he does not really offer anything relevant for our
present discussion of homonymy in general. Nor are the problems which con
cern us seen by Nöldeke in his review, ZD M G liv (1900) 152-64. For our pur
pose the study of Schulthess is of interest mainly for its count of homonymic
roots, and for some careful establishments of distinctions between homonyms.
The forty-eight homonymic roots treated by him are: bdl, bl\ b't> glby gppy dglt
d iif xhr, zw f zlly hblf hggy hmyy hsd, tw \ kws, kssf m&r, mit, nglt sbrt shr, 7/, 'mdy
*rb, prgy pTy siv\ y/Z, spp, qbbt qtmf qply qsr, rhbt rht, r \ rpt, sgm, sgr, ihm, ihr,
iwh (Jyh)y ill, Up, iqp, irb, tkk.
TH E CO U N T OF KNOW N HOM ONYM S 151
1) ‘ )דלהhair, thrum’ (2) ‘the poor*
1) ‘ )דמהbe like’ (2) ‘cease’
1) ‘ )דמםbe silent’ (2) ‘wail’
1) ‘ )דרורfreedom’ (2) ‘swallow’.
Modern philological suggestions would certainly, if accepted,
add to this number; see Index, nos. 81-4, 87-101. One would
expect Syriac to be a suitable comparison for Hebrew—not far
removed in period, in cultural situation, or in type of literature.
Yet, if the sample can be generalized, the incidence of homonymy
in Syriac is actually lower than that already recognized in Hebrew,
to say nothing of the substantial additions to Hebrew consequent
on philological suggestions. It would then seem possible that
philological treatments, though assuming a close overlap in lexical
resources between the Semitic languages, nevertheless bring
about a large disparity between them in respect of homonymy.
It is conceivable, on the other hand, that there have been periods
of unusually high homonymy in the development of a language,
and that in Hebrew the biblical period was such an epoch; by the
end of the biblical era many such homonyms had been eliminated
and a certain levelling of the vocabulary brought about. Syriac
would then be more comparable with the post-biblical era in
Hebrew. This possibility, though difficult to prove, deserves
further research.
(i) General
P hilological treatments often appear to depend logically on
the assumption of a high degree of community or overlap between
the various Semitic languages in their use of lexical resources. It is
implied that, a cognate word having been found, this will form a
probab le lead to (a) the existence of a related Hebrew word and (b)
the meaning of that Hebrew word. The existence of a word in a
cognate language is taken as a sort of prima-facie case for the
existence of a corresponding word in Hebrew, and this prima-facie
case is then clinched by the fact of a Hebrew text which seems to
fit this word and give good sense.
The question of principle can be put in a quite simple form. How
great is the degree of coincidence (leaving aside words of non-
Semitic origin) between the various Semitic languages in their use
of vocabulary ? If this degree is high, then there will be a high de
gree of probability (other things being equal) in a claim that, if a
word exists with a known meaning in language A (let us say,
Arabic) it can therefore confidently be expected to occur in a
recognizably related form and with a recognizably related meaning
in language B (in our case, Hebrew). If the general degree of
coincidence is low, then there will be a correspondingly low degree
of probability in this claim. When we find it argued or implied that
the existence of a word or form in a cognate language is prima-facie
evidence for its existence also in Hebrew, such an argument or
implication clearly rests on the assumption that the degree of
coincidence is very high.
It should be noted that the question of related form cannot in
this context be treated usefully apart from the question of related
meaning. Where the same form, or a form corresponding under
GENERAL 157
known conditions, is found in more than one language, is the mean
ing also substantially the same ?
If we have ‘the same word’, but if it is found with a different
meaning in language B from that known in language A, this does
not make it difficult to claim that the word exists also in B, but it
means that it will be hard to know what it means in B, and that
therefore we shall have less chance of reaching any solution of the
problem at all. For, we must remember, the whole situation under
discussion is one in which the existence of the word in language B
has not hitherto been recognized; and this means that there is a
lack of evidence for its meaning in language B, apart from the
evidence of the cognate language.
Moreover, since we are using as further evidence the context of
a particular passage, the relevance of that context is itself depen
dent upon the degree of assurance we have about the meaning of
the word we now claim to recognize for the first time. To put it
simply, it will not help us much if we identify the root x-y-z, well
known in Arabic, if we still do not know what this would mean in
Hebrew. For these reasons it is of real importance to consider, from
our general knowledge of the Semitic languages apart from the
exigencies of particular difficult passages, what is the degree of
community in the use of formally corresponding lexical items, and
what is the degree of community in the meanings with which they
function in the various languages of the group.
Now there is no difficulty, to begin with, in assembling a sub
stantial list of words which in form (allowing for the normal cor
respondences) and in meaning (allowing for slight and easily
explicable differences) run fairly uniformly across the whole series
of the ancient Semitic languages or a large number of them. Such
a list is offered by Bergsträsser in the appendix to his comparative
study of the Semitic languages.1 It contains about 170 items, of
which Bergsträsser claims that they comprise the ‘relatively certain
correspondences of the five chief branches of the Semitic languages’
(excluding loanwords from one branch to another). This, he says,
is far from exhausting the lexical stock of proto-Semitic; for all
words which are lacking in one or more of the branches, or which
have been altered beyond recognition, are omitted.
This list contains some very fundamental words: basic words
for human beings and relations, animal names, parts of the human
1 G. Bergsträsser, Einführung, pp. 181-92.
158 LEXICA L R E S O U R C E S IN T H E S E M I T I C L A N G U A G E S
body, some cosmic elements like day and night, and a number of
common verbs, along with the numerals and a few prepositions.
We may quote a few of the words in their Hebrew form: א ב
‘father’, ‘ י ל לbear’ (a child), ‘ ע ק ר בscorpion’, ‘ ז ר עseed’, ]ע י
‘eye’, CH ‘blood’, ‘ יו םday’, ‘ מי םwater’, ‘ ב י תhouse’, ‘ נ שאlift’,
‘ ק ר בapproach’, ‘ ב כ הweep’, ‘ ש ב רbreak’.
For all these words, about 170 in number, close correspondences
in form and sense can be found running across the whole field of
the basic branches of the Semitic languages.
The closeness of the agreement running through this list should
not, however, impress us too much. This list is itself a very limited
segment of the vocabulary of any one of the languages. Against it
we have to set the vocabulary which is used in one language, or in
two, but is not represented in the others. It is easy to produce
impressive lists of words which are common in two or three of the
relevant Semitic languages, but which are entirely absent from
others or else occur in them only with meanings substantially
different.
Dillmann1 gave a list of about twenty-five important words
which are shared by Hebrew and Ethiopic but do not appear in
Arabic at all or appear in it only with very different meanings.
They include, for instance: ‘ א שfire’; ‘ ע ץtree’; m ‘stone’;
‘ א ש ךtesticle’; ‘ י כ לbe able’; ‘ י צ אgo out’.
Following this, Ullendorff2 offers a list of ‘an impressive number
of words shared by Hebrew and South Arabian for which either no
equivalent roots are attested in the other Semitic languages or else
with such sharply differing meanings as to make the semantic and
structural identity doubtful’.
Ullendorff’s list comprises twenty-two examples and includes
such prominent words as ‘ אי שman’; ‘ ה ר גslay’; ‘ י ר הshoot’;
‘ י ש עsalvation’; ‘ ק ה לassembly’.
Delitzsch used similar lists in his arguments against the priority
of Arabic for the elucidation of Hebrew vocabulary. One such list
endeavours to show how Arabic presents, in comparison to Hebrew,
Aramaic, and Accadian, narrowed or clearly derivative meanings.3
This he applies, for example, to :
1 Ethiopic Grammar, pp. 6-7. Some of these words are shared also by Ac-
cadian and Ugaritic. 2 V T vi (1956) 195 ff.
3 Prolegomena, pp. 27 f.; list showing Hebrew-Aramaic community, pp. 32-
35, and Hebrew-Accadian community, pp. 45 ff. Cf. above, p. 70.
GENERAL 159
‘ אמרsay’—Arabic 'amara ‘command’
‘ בואcome’—Arabic baa ‘return home’
‘ בעלpossess’ and also ‘marry’—Arabic baala specifically ‘marry’
‘ עזבleave, forsake’—Arabic '-z-b particularly ‘be unmarried’
These indications, then, encourage us to pursue further the
question of the degree of overlap in lexical stock between the
various Semitic languages.
While Bergstrasser’s list took a particular meaning and showed
the correspondence of words with that meaning throughout the
Semitic group, there seem to be other meanings (such as the words
for going in a direction) which tend to have different words in the
cognate languages:
Hebrew Arabic Aramaic Accadian Ethiopic
‘go down’ ירד n-z-l n-h-t aradu wàrâdà
‘fear’ ירא hâfa d-h-l adâru fârhà
פחד palahu
‘know’ ידע '-r-f y-d- edü ’a’màrâ
'-l-m
In some of these one language has a form closely similar to that
of another in the same line, but with a meaning substantially differ-
ent. Arabic w-r-d means not ‘go down’ but mainly ‘arrive’; Hebrew
נ ז לmeans not ‘go down’ but ‘flow’; Arabic f-r-h is ‘be lively’;
very few Semitic languages show a cognate with Hebrew י ר א
‘fear’;1 though Arabic f־r ־/ is a very common word ‘know’, the
relevant Hebrew ע ל ףexists only as a noun ‘neck’ and as a deno-
minative verb ‘break the neck’; Hebrew ע ל םmeans ‘hide’.
These differences, which refer to the normal words in use, are
not removed by the occasional appearance in Hebrew of a form
normally Aramaic, such as ‘ נ ח תgo down’, 0 ‘ ל קgo up’.
Conversely, one may take a given form and, allowing for the
normal correspondences, consider what meanings attach to it in
the other languages. For example: (a) Hebrew ‘ א מ רsay’: the
senses of cognates are—Accadian ‘see’, Arabic and Aramaic mainly
‘command’, Ethiopic ‘show, know’, (b) Hebrew ‘ ל ק חtake’: in
Arabic this is ‘conceive’ or ‘impregnate’; Ethiopic laqha means
‘lend’, not ‘take’ ;2 in Syriac the root does not exist except for laqha
1 It occurs in Ugaritic, but not frequently; Leslau, Contributions, p. 42, gives
a rather remote parallel from Tigre for פ ח ד.
2 Leslau, Contributions, p. 29, against KB.
160 L E X IC A L R E S O U R C E S I N T H E S E M I T I C L A N G U A G E S
*planities circa urbem’,1which is semantically remote. For ‘take’ the
Aramaic word is ב0 נ, which is not found in Hebrew; the Aramaic
,ithpeel of ל ק חis rare and means ‘be taken as a wife’; Ethiopic
*ahazd is cognate with a Hebrew word, but also often appears with
the sense ‘begin’. Cognates of the Hebrew are found in Ugaritic
and Accadian (Iqh, lequ).
Our purpose, we should remember, is not to discover an etym-
ology or identify the same root in another language. The traditional
etymological consciousness, because it is directed towards questions
somewhat different from ours, can indeed cause us some confusion.
In particular, (1) it may be content to find in the cognate languages
a word which has the same root, though that word is actually in a
quite different formation; (2) it may overemphasize the fact that a
cognate has the same root and underemphasize the fact that the
meaning is substantially different, or it may emphasize the histori-
cal connectedness of the two meanings in such a way as to ignore
their difference in function; (3) it may fail to balance the recognition
of cognates with a recognition of the number of languages in which
a cognate is not found. For example:
(1) There is a familiar Hebrew word ‘ חו מ הwall’. The etymo-
logist will probably connect this with verbs meaning ‘protect’ in
cognate languages. This, however, does not in itself mean that such
a verb, which would be ח מ ה, is in use in Hebrew with this mean-
ing. The etymology of any particular word does not establish the
existence of other formations from the same root.
It is useful to distinguish between roots which are productive
and those which are not. Hebrew has a root ל א ך, which appears
in the familiar words {a) ‘ מ ל א ךmessenger’, (b) ‘ מ ל א כ הwork’.
An obvious cognate is the common Ethiopic la aka ‘send’. Unlike
the situation in Ethiopic, however, it is improbable that the verb
ל א ךexisted in Hebrew as a free form. Though the root ל א ך
exists, it cannot therefore be used to predict occurrence in other
formations; nor, for the purpose of calculating the extent of lexical
overlap, can it be counted in the same way as free and productive
roots. Moreover, while we could rightly divine the Hebrew mean-
ing of מ ל א ךfrom that of the Ethiopic verb, it is doubtful if we
could do this for מ ל א כ הif the meaning of the latter were in fact
unknown.
1 Brockelmann, Lexicon Syriacum, p. 370.
GENERAL 161
Other examples can easily be added, e.g. the roots of ל מ י ל
‘always’; ‘ נ ב י אprophet’; ]!"ID ‘priest’; ‘ ק ו לvoice’.
(2) There is a familiar Arabic jalasa ‘sit’. Hebrew ג ל שprovides
an exact correspondence and is probably cognate; it seems, how-
ever, to mean ‘glide down’, and is used of a herd of goats coming
down a hill (Cant. 4. 1,6. 5). Perhaps etymologists can surmise a
mode of semantic connection between the two. But, if the meaning
in Hebrew were in fact unknown, it is very unlikely that we should
be able to reconstruct it correctly from the Arabic.
The following are some other words, the meanings of which in
Hebrew could probably not be divined from cognate languages, if
the meanings had not been known in the first place: ‘ ל ב רspeak’;
‘ פ ח לdread’; ‘ ב ר אcreate’; ‘ ג ב ו לboundary’; ‘ ב ר י תcovenant’;
and ‘ ע ל םhide’.
Sometimes, even if the root is known, the derivation of particular
meanings does not follow the same analogy in different languages.
We know that ל ל ךmeans ‘road’. The verb ד ר יmeans ‘tread’.
But the words in other Semitic languages which mean ‘road’ are
not cognates of ; ל ל לand, moreover, they are often not related
to the word which means ‘tread’ in the relevant language. Aramaic
א ו ל ח אappears to associate itself with the verb ‘travel’, Arabic
tariq with a verb ‘knock’, sari* with a verb ‘enter, begin’, and
Ethiopic fanot with a verb ‘send’. It is by no means certain that,
even if a ‘root-meaning’ is known, analogy will be available in such
a way as to ensure a right conclusion to the meaning of a given form.
(3) It is important to register not only the presence but also the
absence of cognate words. The latter is frequently neglected. Non-
existence of cognates is not usually made explicit by the diction-
aries, and it is dangerous to treat their silence as evidence that
forms are not found. Moreover, because they are trying to explain
or illustrate a Hebrew word, they will often cite a form in another
Semitic language with a meaning which comes close to the Hebrew
meaning, without making it clear that in the language quoted this
is not by any means the usual meaning. In these three respects,
then, our purpose is something different from the traditional
interest in etymology.1
Another test is to go through the known vocabulary of a given
language and consider how many of the items have a Hebrew word
1 See, for instance, Wechter, Ibn Barun, pp. 56, 61. Similarly contrasting
meanings have been pointed out for familiar words like ל א הand ; י כ לsee
Driver, C M Ly p. 158; Botterweck, Triliterismus, p. 39.
2 See KB, s.v., and literature there cited; Driver, Z A W lxix (1957) 7 4 7 ; ־
Leslau, Z A W lxxiv (1962) 322, who gives the support of Ethiopian parallels.
W O R D S W I T H O P P O S I T E M E A N I N G S ( ,A P D A D ) 175
up’ from Maon to Engedi, I Sam. 24. 1. Driver, discussing this
instance, cites some other paradoxical phenomena, such as Arab.
fa ra a , said to mean either ‘go up’ or ‘go down’ a mountain.
Again, Kopf, discussing the meaning of ב ט אin Hebrew, says
that if this means ‘thoughtlessness, over-hastiness’, and if we com-
pare Arab, batua ‘be slow, hesitate’ (}L·), then this is an example
of opposed senses in the two languages.1
Discussing ‘ ש ר בheat’, Driver2 takes note of an Accadian sarbu
‘shower’, surubbu ‘(cold) fever’, suribu ‘cold’, and says that the con-
nection between the senses of cold and heat is illustrated by Lat.
urere.
Going back to the Middle Ages we may remark that Saadia,
discussing the difficult ג י ל ו ב ר ע ל הof Ps. 2. 11,3 argued that
the peculiarity could be explained by use of the analogy of the
Arabic i-r-i, which serves as an expression of both fear and joy.4
Perhaps the most striking example, however, of the way in which
philological treatments have produced an alleged double opposition
of meaning within Hebrew itself, is the familiar word ב, normally
supposed to mean ‘in’. Ugaritic evidence in particular is interpreted
with the sense ‘from’. This sense, says Gordon, is common, and is
‘in accordance with a Hamitic-Semitic feature whereby preposi-
tions meaning “in” or “to” tend to connote also “from” ’.5 There
are indeed places in Hebrew where the sense ‘from’ would at first
sight appear to make good or better sense, e.g. Ps. 68. 19, ל ק ח ת
□ מ תנו ת ב א ד, which would then mean ‘thou hast received gifts
from men’ (so easy a solution that it may be too facile). There has
been no shortage of voices assuring us that Ugaritic evidence
makes it clear that ‘from’ is the actual meaning, all difficulty being
thereby removed. There are, however, certain objections against
this course of argument.
The first is the question of the communicative efficiency of a
language in which the word for ‘to’ and the word for ‘from’ are
apparently identical. This is, as we have seen, one of the obvious
problems of homonymy. Possibly Ugaritic b, when meaning ‘from’,
might have had a different vocalization from b with the sense ‘in’,
1 V T viii (1958) 165.
2 J T S xxiii (1922) 410.
3 Cf. above, p. 5, and below, p. 284.
4 See Eppenstein, op. cit., p. 9. The sense given by Wehr for tariba in modern
literary Arabic is *be moved (with joy or grief)’.
5 UH, p. 217. Cf. also Gordon’s detailed discussion, XJHy pp. 83 f.
176 L E X IC A L R E SO U R C E S IN T H E S E M IT IC L A N G U A G E S
so that no homonymy existed. Again, it is possible that ‘from’ is not
the sense of b in itself but only the sense of b when in collocation
with certain other words, which supply the guidance to select the
sense ‘from’. If this were so, it might follow (a) that the sense ‘from’
could not be defined as such apart from such contexts, and (&) that
the relation of b to such contexts might be confined to Ugaritic and
certainly could not automatically be transferred to Hebrew. For
instance, one of the most convincing cases for the sense ‘from’ ap
pears i:a tb' bbth 4they departed from his house’. But perhaps the
sense of b here is defined by collocation with tb' ; and since tb' does
not have a cognate in Hebrew we cannot be sure whether this is
relevant for comparison with Hebrew at all. In trd b'l bmrym spn
or td yi$t bbhtn, which Gordon cites with translations as ‘drive Baal
from the heights of Sapan’ and ‘the fire went away from the houses’,
a great deal depends on the exact usage and sense of the verbs,
which may be beyond our power to determine.
Secondly, the whole setting of b in Ugaritic is not comparable
with the setting of D in Hebrew, for the simple reason that Hebrew
has ]Ü ‘from’, while Ugaritic does not. The meanings of words
are fun ctions of choices within the given vocabulary at one time;
and in Hebrew the choice between D and ]D furnished an oppo
sition entirely lacking in Ugaritic in the literary texts. In any one
language the meaning of the prepositions is a highly subtle, diffi
cult, and idiosyncratic structure of possibilities and choices, which
cannot be broken into by clumsy assertions that a cognate language
has another meaning for a given item. Some Semitic languages
have bn for ‘from’, but not mn\l some Ethiopian languages have k
with ti e meaning of ‘from’ but not with the familiar Semitic sense
of ‘as, like’. In each case the differences between prepositions de
pend on the total stock in each individual language, and these
meanings cannot be arbitrarily shifted around from language to
language merely on the grounds that the languages in question are
cognate.
Thir dly, some question may be raised about the kind of ‘mean
ing’ which attaches to the sense ‘from’ for b in Ugaritic itself. Not
1 South Arabian bn has been regarded as a product from the common mn by
phonetic change; so Brockelmann, Grundriß, § 252b r) (p. 497), § 84c a (p. 226).
But the existence also of In and hn may suggest rather that ‘the whole ESA series
bn, In, hn are morphologically only enlarged forms of b /־, h to which the
differentiated meaning “from” has been attached’. (So Beeston, Descriptive
Grammar, p. 57.)
W O R D S W I T H O P P O S I T E M E A N IN G S ( ,A p D A D ) 177
all cases which have been quoted are incapable of interpretation
in another way. T h u s:
stym bkrpnm yn bks hrs dm 'sm
is translated by Gordon as:
‘drink wine from jars, the blood of vines from cups of gold’.
But it is not wholly impossible to consider the sense ‘in’; one may
drink ‘in’ or ‘with’ a cup, as well as ‘from’ one. This can apply also
to bph rgm lys a bspth hwth. While it seems to us natural to speak of
a word going forth ‘from’ the mouth or lips, it is not impossible to
see the sense as ‘in her mouth (or, by her mouth) the word goes
forth’ etc. The insistence of scholars on the sense ‘from’ may
sometimes rest on no more secure foundation than the fact that an
English translation will use the word ‘from’. But a translation can
give a correct general rendering of a passage, without providing
in its equivalences a correct understanding of particular lexical
items.
These paragraphs are not written in order to deny that the
meaning of Ugaritic b may be stated as ‘from’. They do, however,
indicate some of the problems implied if it is really thought that in
Ugaritic the same word could freely and equally mean either ‘to’
or ‘from’; and they suggest that, whatever is true for Ugaritic, the
position is likely to be different in Hebrew because the presence of
]ft in the latter language makes the whole network of prepositional
meanings quite different. These points have commonly been neg
lected when prepositional meanings discovered in Ugaritic have
then been indiscriminately discovered in the Hebrew Bible; the
same applies to the case of L
Such, then, are some difficulties which may arise when hom
onymy takes the acute form of completely opposite meanings for
the same form, or when forms which correspond in cognate lan
guages nevertheless display quite contrary senses. In general, if it is
supposed that cognate words are yet likely to have quite contrary
senses, this consideration reduces the probability of success with
philological treatments on any large scale. Such treatments imply
that, where a cognate form is discovered, its (known) meaning will
suggest that of the (hitherto unknown) Hebrew word. If it is to
suggest this meaning only by a reversal of its own meaning, the
process is likely to degenerate into guesswork.
178 L E X IC A L R E SO U R C E S IN T H E S E M IT IC L A N G U A G E S
1 Even if we identify the words in a way different from Driver’s, the results
are in this regard not very different; e.g. Gordon’s positive identifications of
verbs in UH seem to be about z with /t/ in position i and io with /t/.
2 See above, pp. !7off.
R O O T S A N D C O M P A T IB IL IT Y O F C O N S O N A N T S 181
certain individuality, which cannot be broken down on the ground
that other languages are cognate and that many individual words
have close correspondences of form arid meaning. Conversely, they
permit no excessive optimism that a known form and meaning in
one language will guide us directly to the meaning of a mysterious
form in another.
(1) General
M any philological treatments hold firmly to the consonantal text,
resisting suggestions that it should be emended; they are extremely
free, however, towards the vocalization, often implying that it is a
late and ill-informed interpretation which may be modified by
scholars at will.1
Exceptions, indeed, can be found. For the enigmatic ו א ל ~ ת ר ה ו
at Isa. 44. 8 Driver’s suggestion of an explanation on the basis of
Arabic daha implied an emendation to ו א ל ~ ת ך ה וaffecting the
consonants only, or even to ו א ל “ ת ד ה וaffecting also the vowels
and making the verb a niphal.2 In this approach the philologist
uses his imagination to detect forms close to, but not identical with,
the consonantal text, which promise a successful philological
treatment.
Conversely, a philological treatment will sometimes start from,
and use as evidence, a feature of the existing pointing; and, after
using a cognate language to explain the meaning, it will return to
the existing pointing, which it has thus explained and justified.
At Neh. 5. 7 Kopf notes the unusual niphal in the phrase וי מ ל ך
ל בי ע ל יand, comparing the Arabic sense, ‘take possession’,
construes, as ‘I was beside myself’. Though the clue to the sense is
found in Arabic, the suggestion starts from and returns to the
Massoretic pointing.
A similar example is found at Hos. 8. 4. Here the verb מ ל ךis
taken by Driver to mean ‘advise’, after the sense in Aramaic. The
verse reads:
: ל כ ו ו ל א מ&ני ה ע ד רו ו ל א מ ־ ע תי$ ה ם ה
1 Cf. Driver, cited above, p. 35; Dahood in Biblica xliv (1963) 291, with
reference to Albright in Peake, pp. 62 f.
2 Cf. above, pp. 6 f., 166, and below, p. 231.
GENERAL 189
and the meaning found by Driver is:
‘they have taken counsel, but not of me;
they have got advice, and I know not of it.’
The first verb means ‘caused advice to be taken’, thus justifying
the hiphil; and the second is related to Arabic ’asara and is in
Hebrew a denominative hiphil meaning ‘obtained advice’. Thus,
though the senses suggested are novel, the interpretation supports
and justifies the hiphil pointing of the MT.
These illustrations show, then, that philological treatments can
and do at times either (a) involve emendation of the consonantal
text or, conversely, (b) confirm the punctuation as well as the
consonantal text. It nevertheless remains generally true of philo-
logical treatments that many of them involve a departure from the
Massoretic punctuation. The exceptions can hardly hope to become
the rule.
Moreover, many philological treatments, though they do not
abandon or emend the major consonants (generally speaking, the
radicals, apart from ‘weak’ letters), nevertheless involve other
changes (commonly supposed to be ‘minor’), such as displacements
of word divisions and confusion between w and y. If these ‘minor’
changes are used with high frequency in a small space their effect
is not greatly different from that of outright emendation. When this
is so, it is legalistic to claim that the consonantal text is being left
intact. Even if basic root consonants are not altered into others,
the text may be in effect rewritten. The following examples will
show different degrees of this process. Moderate changes are
involved in the quite attractive treatment of Ezek. 27. 19 by
Millard. The M T offers the rather impenetrable:
; ו ךן ד ו ן ??אוזל
Of this AV made
‘Dan also and Javan going to and fro.’
B H 3 emends, so also RSV. Millard takes the text as:
ו תי _יין מ אי ז ל:
meamng:
‘and casks of wine from Izalla’.1
1 y S S vii (196a) 201 if. Cf. the identification of Izalla already in GB, p. 15 b.
190 T H E M A SS O R E T E S, V O C A L IZ A T IO N A N D E M E N D A T IO N
The word ]‘ לcask’ is identified on the basis of Accadian dannu
(cf. also Ugar. dn). The textual alterations are fairly minor.
Other suggestions are more complex and involve very far-reach-
ing changes in word division and vocalization. Hab. 3. 6-7 has the
very difficult passage:
mt ת ח ת אגן ר אי תי: ה לי כ ו ת ע ו ל ם ל ו
These are the words rendered by the ‘his ways were as of old’ and
‘I saw . . . in affliction’ of RSV. Albright, reconstructing this,
produces a text which reads (apart from the last word):
: ה ל כ ו ת ע ו ל ם ל ת ח ת או ן
and means:
‘eternal orbits were shattered’.
This suggestion, while not changing any consonant, is an ex-
tremely radical reshuffling of the consonants into a completely
different series of words and clauses. Such a reconstruction is
really no less an emendation than a conjectural alteration of one or
two consonants would have been; the effect is entirely as drastic.
We may add Tur-Sinai’s reconstruction of Job 37. 17:
m t : ב ג ד י ף ח מי ם ב ה ש קי ט א ל ץ מ ד רו ם- א ש ר
Tur-sinai: ר ב ? ב ר כ ח ה מי ם ב דז קז קי ט א ך ץ ז מ ך ך ם# א
The meaning of the reconstructed text is said to b e:
'So that, when the waters become forceful
and cause their wet clay to fall down.’
The new philological identification is that of a מ ל ר, cognate with
Ethiopic mddr ‘earth’, Arabic madar. Though some of the textual
changes are individually easy ones (e.g. interchange of לand ) ל,
the reconstruction is in fact extremely far-reaching, with a liberal
assortment of dittographies and haplographies in the space of some
nine consonants. Though Tur-Sinai says that ‘the punctuators
failed to understand the text’, it is hard to see how they failed to
understand the supposedly original ב ג ב ר כ ל ה מ י ם, which is not
difficult in comparison with most of the text they had to point in
Job.
These instances show that changes of vocalization, or shifts in
consonant order or word division, implied in philological treat-
ments may sometimes be so drastic in effect as to make it legalistic
GENERAL 191
to claim that the consonantal text is unchanged. We may now go on
to consider the questions more systematically.
1 On this word see above, p. 182. Driver, The Judaean Scrolls, pp. 435, 444,
gives the same interpretation as Guillaume. He appears also to find this word in
iQIsA 35. 7, where the M T has *and papyrus’; but from the photographs
the word seems clearly to be exactly as in the M T except for the added
waw. The Arabic nama, while certainly a real verb the use of which can easily be
checked in early poetry, is probably an idiosyncrasy of Arabic, and seems to have
no cognates in other Semitic languages. Thus the evidence for its existence in
Hebrew is weak; nor, in Isa. 35. 7, is it clear what sense it would make.
194 T H E M A SS O R E T E S, V O C A L IZ A T IO N A N D E M E N D A T IO N
In any case the Qumran text, whether better or not, adds to the
evidence i:hat texts varied. If readings in the Qumran texts are
superior, it means that in the absence of the Qumran evidence
(which might, after all, never have been discovered) the conjectural
emendations might have been right and would certainly have been
justifiable, There are in fact cases, as is well known, where the
Qumran scrolls have been found to contain readings which had
previously been conjectured by scholars.
A third place where we can see evidence of faulty transmission
of consonantal texts is the Ugaritic literature. In places this is
highly repetitive, quite long sections being reiterated in almost
exactly the same words. In such passages some fairly obvious spel
ling errors have been detected;1 and this is a literature the line of
transmission of which to us ceased in the fourteenth century B.C.!
There is every reason to expect, therefore, that the transmission
of texts Las included errors in the consonantal as well as in the
vocalized writing; and, in spite of the exaggerated reliance on
textual emendation which has sometimes been shown, it will
always remain an important possibility that difficulties have arisen
by graphic error rather than by loss of linguistic understanding.
Textual criticism must retain its traditional place and not be com
pletely displaced by a too purely philological approach.
In order to make further progress, we have now to give closer
consideration to the transmission of the vocalization.
1 O LZ xxvii (1924) 582-6. See Kahle, Cairo Genista (2nd ed.), p. 188.
2 ZD M G xlix (1895) 13.
204 T H E MASSORETES, VOCALIZATION AND EM ENDATION
The same can be said about the marginal notes, commonly
called the Massorah, appended to the Hebrew Bible. These are
not to any great extent of lexicographical or of semantic nature.
Most commonly they are listings of writings. In these listings the
obvious semantic questions—for instance homonymy—are com-
monly ignored. For the sense of a biblical passage the right identi-
fication of a homonym can be of obvious importance, but the
Massorah gives little such guidance.
There are two homonymic nouns ; מ ק ב תone means ‘hammer’
and the other means ‘hole, excavation’. The latter occurs only at
Isa. 51. 1, but the Massorah of the Aleppo Codex neither marks it
as an unusual form nor gives any indication that it should be under-
stood otherwise than its homonym. In the same sentence, however,
the Massorah marks the phrase ר1‘ א ל ~ צunto the rock’ with an
annotation that this group with this writing occurs thrice, though
no semantic problem is touched by this. Again, at Isa. 13. 8 the
form ‘ ל ה ב י סflames’ is marked with a note that it occurs thrice
in all. The other two cases are ל ה ב י םat Gen. 10. 13, I Chron.
1. 11, where the meaning is ‘Lybians’. The Massoretic note, being
concerned with writings and not with meanings, makes no attempt
to separate the two types.1
It is true that certain notes of semantic type may be found, but
these are so occasional as to show that the exception cannot be made
the rule. For instance, at Prov. 25. 14, where the word נ שי אי ם
occurs in a sense other than the common ‘prince’, the Massora
Parva of Codex B 19a gives the note ] ענן1‘ ל טי לי ] ל שfour
(occurrences of) words in the sense of “cloud” ’.2 There are other
places where the Massorah, using the technical term ‘ ל שוןhas
the sense of’, provides some semantic guidance, very often in rela-
tion to unseemly expressions. Such notes, however, form so
infinitesimal a proportion, in relation to the total number of Mas-
soretic notes or in relation to the total number of places where
semantic uncertainty is found, that we may suppose that they were
usually prompted by some special reason; and thus these excep-
tions do not alter the fact that the main body of Massoretic annota-
tions was non-semantic in nature.
Hapax legomena indeed are often marked with the sign ( לfor
1 See Weil in V T S ix (1963) 276 n.; cf. Textus iii (1963) 119.
2 The other three cases are at Jer. 10. 13, 51. 16; Ps. 135. 7.
T H E IM P O R T A N C E O F T H E V O C A L IZ A T IO N 205
‘ ל י תthere is none’, i.e. no other instance).1 But the identification
of rare words in our lexical sense is by no means the purpose of
these notes. The mark לis used on graphic forms which are unique,
and this has nothing intrinsically to do with the uniqueness of the
word in a lexical sense. A form will be so marked even if the word
is a very common one, provided that the writing is an unusual one
(e.g. in respect of מ ל אor ר0 חin mode of writing) or one other-
wise liable to confusion.
Generally, then, the Massoretic lists concern the exact writing
and reading. Often the procedure is semantically indifferent,
though it is important to the scribe, whose concern is with exact
copying of text. Even where the lists have semantic implications,
these often remain implications rather than express conclusions,
and the statement expressly made by the lists is one about the
pronunciation. There is a list which, under the consonantal form
י ח ל, records the number which have the vowel patah and the
number which have qames.z To us this involves the two different
roots ח ל לand י ח ל, and thus different meanings; but the form
which the Massoretic annotation takes is a declaration about the
variation between one vowel and another. All this makes it difficult
to sustain a view of the Massoretes as men who pointed the text as
they ‘understood’ it; if this had been so, one would have expected
a primarily semantic sifting and cataloguing of the material.
The picture of the Massoretes as interpreters who worked out,
or guessed, from the consonantal text what its meaning might be
and then vocalized it accordingly, has other difficulties which ap-
pear after very little thought. One of these is the fact that it is
extremely difficult, in cases where a text is intrinsically obscure,
to know how the Massoretes ‘understood’ it at all. If they had in
fact worked out an understanding of it, and then pointed the text
on this basis, one would expect it to be rather more transparent
what they intended than is actually the case. The difficulty of the
existing text tends at many points to suggest that the Massoretes
transmitted a received text with its own difficulties, rather than
iron these out into something which by their then knowledge was
smooth and satisfactory.
1 Cf. Rabin, ‘Millim Bod*dot’, in Encyclopaedia Miqra'it.
2 Weil, V T S ix (1963) 280 n. Weil rightly points out that this failure to make
a distinction between forms from different roots cuts entirely across our lexical
approach and forms a substantial difficulty for the modem student of the
Massorah.
206 T H E M A SS O R E T E S, V O C A L IZ A T IO N A N D E M E N D A T IO N
This is a somewhat different matter from the standardization of
grammar. It is often held that the dialectal and temporal variations
in ancient Hebrew have been overlaid by the fairly unitary system
now represented in the pointing. Such a standardization does in
fact seem to have taken place, though I think it was not the work
of the Massoretes, i.e. of those who introduced the pointing, but
rather was introduced in the liturgical reading tradition much
earlier (which seems much more natural). It is reasonable to sup
pose that this tradition introduced a more uniform and standard
morphology. It would, in fact, be necessary to do so unless the
readers of the Bible were endowed with phonetic, historical, and
literary discriminations of a quite exceptional order. The synagogue
reader could no more be expected to imitate the different Hebrew
pronunciations of the Song of Deborah, the prophet Amos, and
the wisdom teacher Qoheleth than the modern English reader tries
to reproduce the phonetics of Shakespeare, Pope, and Scott when
he reads these authors. Intelligibility would require that a levelled
system should be employed. It is quite a different thing to suggest
that within such a levelled system the discriminations between
morphemes were arbitrarily altered by the Massoretes in order to
achieve a meaning which seemed to them to be satisfactory. Thus
the fact of the standardization of the grammatical system, if it is a
fact, does not in itself justify the conception of an arbitrary mould
ing of the text by the Massoretes on the morphemic-semantic level.
One must also ask how the Massoretes, if their work involved
innovations on the level of meaning, succeeded in getting these
innovations accepted by the community, in view of the inertia of
religious traditions and practices. Substantial changes on a seman
tic level would lead immediately to exegetical and theological
decisions. How could such innovations be carried through, amid
the sensitivity to such questions in the contemporary controversy
between Qaraites and Rabbanites ? How could the opposite party
fail to point out that the reading of the text had been wilfully altered
by the new traditions in the vocalization ?
It should be added that the term ‘the Massoretes’ seems some
times to be used in two senses, a narrower and a wider. I have used
it in the narrower sense, to denote the scholarly families which
worked upon the copying of the text and the provision of vocaliza
tion and accents in the period of roughly a .d . 600-1000. But the
term may also be used of the more general transmission of the text,
T H E IM P O R T A N C E O F T H E V O C A L IZ A T IO N 207
without special and exact reference to the punctuators. When we
read in the context of modern philological treatments that ‘the
Massoretes failed to understand the text' this may be meant to
apply not to the actual punctuators like the Ben Asher or Ben
Naphtali families, but rather to the general tradition which already
lay behind them and was assumed by them. If this is so, then some
of the arguments I have just made do not apply in the same way.
The conception that the text was misunderstood, if no longer
applying to the Massoretes in the stricter sense, is not liable to
the criticisms I have just advanced. The meaning may be that the
misunderstanding, and the ‘correction’ of the text in order to fit a
new understanding, had already taken place before the Massoretes
recorded the tradition.
If this is what is meant, then my arguments do not have the same
effect; but neither is the problem solved thereby. For if ‘the Mas
soretes’ is a term used to designate the general tradition of reading
and understanding over some centuries, then the work of the actual
punctuators can hardly be stigmatized with terms like ‘artificial’;
for their decisions were not produced in the process of providing a
punctuation but must, right or wrong, have been inherent in the
tradition long before the process of punctuation began. The
decisions now are no longer ‘late’, but may have taken place at any
time between the formation of the original text and the fixation of
the Massoretic punctuation. Only detailed research can tell us
whether they had already been made by the time of the Qumran
texts, or even by the time of Ezra.
The difficulty of attributing to the Massoretes great initiative in
semantic interpretation leads on the whole to the judgement that
the source of confusion often lay early, rather than late, in the
history of transmission.
1 See Gordis, Biblical Text, p. 59, who cites it as a passage where the Gallican
Psalter ‘substantiates beyond the shadow of a doubt a full verse and more of our
Massoretic Text and yet has not one word in common with it!’ The recon
structed pointing for LXX is that of Gordis.
2 Quoted here after the Soncino version. The passage is mentioned by Roberts,
Text and Versions, p. 49.
214 THE MASSORETES, VOCALIZATION A N D E M E N D A T IO N
then went to his teacher and asked: How didst thou teach me to read ?
He replied : ז כ ר. Thereupon Joab drew his sword and threatened to kill
him. Why do you do this ? asked the teacher. He replied: because it is
written: Cursed be he that doeth the work of the law negligently. He said
to him: Be satisfied that I am cursed. To which Joab rejoined: [It also
says] Cursed be he that keepeth back his sword from blood. According to
one report, he killed him; according to another, he did not kill him.
This passage not only shows that at the time no system of vowel
points existed. It also shows that a reader of the biblical text was
understood to receive the vocalization from a ‘teacher’, who him-
self in turn received it from the tradition of teachers before him.
This is, after all, not entirely unlike the situation in modern
English, another language in which the orthography represents the
linguistic realities with at least as little precision as the representa-
tion of Hebrew in unpointed script. Children therefore learn at
school the spelling and pronunciation, i.e. the socially accepted
linkage between the language system and the writing system. In
the situation of the Talmudic legend the reader stood within a
tradition, even if more than one such tradition existed, and did not
invent the vocalization for himself. This need for teaching and
learning was perpetuated in Jewish usage even after the vocaliza-
tion was written, because the synagogue practice is still to read from
an unpointed text.
Moreover, the passage shows that a pronunciation tradition
agreeing with the later Massoretic marking was already in exis-
tence. The play in the legend on ז כ רand ז כ רis a midrashic
device very similar in type to the al-tiqre interpretations; and these,
as we have seen, are not evidence that the received text was not in
existence or was in any way in doubt. David’s reading, character-
istically, was the same as the Massoretic.1
Some discussion should now be given to Kahle’s well-known
theory according to which the Massoretes made substantial innova-
tions or restorations in the grammar of Hebrew.
The three points of Kahle’s argument are the following. Firstly,
for centuries before their time the laryngals or gutturals were not
1 It is slightly misleading when Roberts, p. 49, says that ‘it is significant that
the argument was settled, not by resorting to textual study, but by an authorita-
tive statement of exegesis’. More correctly, there never was any argument at all,
but only a legendary story built up on the similarities and differences of two texts,
with the familiar device of a change of vowels worked into a narrative form.
E V ID E N C E F O R P R E -M A S S O R E T IC V O C A L IZ A T IO N 215
pronounced; the evidence for this is found in transcriptions, state
ments by Jerome and so on. The Massoretes made every guttural
carry a consonantal value, followed by its own vowel. Secondly,
and on the basis of similar sources, plus non-Tiberian punctuation
and certain considerations of comparative philology, he held that
the 2nd person pronoun suffix was /-ak/, and the Massoretes altered
this to /־eka/. Thirdly, in the M T the six letters bgdkpt have a
double pronunciation, but according to Kahle there is no earlier
evidence of this. The double pronunciation fixed by the Massoretes
‘was earlier completely unknown to the most authoritative Jewish
circles’.1
Now if Kahle was factually right in claiming that these changes
were made by the Massoretes, it is conceivable that certain of them
might produce or contribute to confusions and losses of important
distinctions, and thus bring about the mistakes concerning the sense
of a word which only a philological treatment can disentangle.
These possibilities are for the present, however, no more than
simple theory. In my long list of philological treatments I have not
found examples which attributed the loss of understanding of the
text to the specific changes upon which Kahle has laid so much
weight. Conversely, we may say, philological treatment has not so
far confirmed the hypothesis of Kahle by producing solutions the
explanation of which would be assisted by his hypothesis.
The double pronunciation of bgdkpt is not important for our
present problem. The difference is non-phonemic and the two
possibilities are allophonic;2 the phoneme is realized in one form
or the other, determined by position. Taken alone it is not of great
semantic importance. This may, indeed, be one reason why some
early transcriptions ignored the matter; another reason is the
defectiveness of transcriptions in the writing systems of Greek and
Latin, in which the sets of possible phonemes and allophones are
very different from those of Hebrew.3
Thus, though Kahle’s view that the Massoretes were linguistic
innovators has had great influence, the innovations alleged by him,
even if true, are not such as to prove that the vocalization is generally
arbitrary, and especially so in its effect on meaning. Rather, they
are a group of limited alterations which in themselves could not be
1 Cairo Genista, p. 182.
2 Morag, Vocalization Systems, p. 24 and note.
3 See my article in J S S xii (1967) 1 3 6 ־, especially pp. 9 1 3 ־.
216 THE MASSORETES, VOCALIZATION A N D E M EN D A T IO N
responsible for large-scale changes of vocalization, intended to
produce a particular sense. Thus the position I have argued is not
in itself affected if Kahle’s views are correct.
In any case these views may be mistaken; they were disputed
when they were first announced, and important arguments have
recently been directed against them.1 Views of the Massoretic
activity based on them must now be reconsidered.
Moreover, philological considerations themselves raise certain
difficulties against the conception of the Massoretes as men who,
often ignorant of the older state of the Hebrew language, vocalized
it to fit their own conceptions of the meaning of the text. One such
consideration is offered by those philological treatments in which
the word studied is pointed anomalously in relation to the normal
Massoretic procedure. In such cases the existing pointing fits with
and supports the philological treatments, and can hardly be re-
garded as a screen of normalization cast over an ignorance of the
meaning. A good example is ד ע הat Prov. 24. 14, which has been
interpreted as meaning ‘call’ or 'seek’.2 If this was the familiar verb
‘ י ד עknow’, then the vocalization is anomalous; GK (§ 48 1) is at
pains to discuss it, and has no good analogy to offer. If the verb is
a ‘ ד ע הcall’ or the like, the anomaly of the form is much less. But
if we accept this solution, we must also accept one of two alterna-
tives: either that the Massoretes actually knew the right sense here,
or that, though they took the word to be a form from ‘ י ד עknow’
(or simply did not analyse it semantically at all), they did not
normalize its punctuation into what would be expected under their
own usual procedure.
A similar case is the word ‘ ת ל מ הtreachery’.3 The anomaly
which made this a difficulty in the first place lay in the vocalization,
which did not conform to usual M T patterns. The Accadian parallel
advanced by Dossin, if right, confirms the Massoretic vocalization.
If the philological explanation is right, then the Massoretes refrained
from interfering with the vocalization of a word which was ab-
normal.
In addition to the existence of anomalies among the forms of
1 See in particular the (in my opinion devastating) criticisms of Kutscher,
J S S x (1965) 21-51; also, inter alia> Goshen-Gottstein in ScrH iv (1958) 117 f.,
and ‘The Tiberian Bible T ext’, esp. pp. 90 if.
2 Cf. above, pp. 23 if.
3 Index, no. 299. On the anomaly see Moore, Judges (ICC), p. 259; ‘an un-
exampled and really inconceivable type of noun’.
E V ID E N C E F O R P R E -M A S S O R E T IC V O C A L IZ A T IO N 217
M T the apparent linguistic antiquity of many such forms has to
be taken into account. Wherever comparative philology succeeds
in fitting data from the M T into a comparative framework which
also accommodates material from other Semitic languages, this
success is a testimony to the general plausibility of the tradition of
M T.1 Phenomena like the waw consecutive were doubtless often
marked wrongly in detail; but the general nature of the pheno-
menon would hardly be known to us if the Massoretes had not
registered it adequately in many places, though it was something
they could not possibly have known about from the contemporary
linguistic environment. A vast amount of the detail in cur com-
parative grammars presumes and permits an affirmation of the
linguistic credibility of the work of the Massoretes.
(5) Conclusions
The traditional philology gave little place to the antiquity of a
liturgical style of reading a sacred literature such as the Bible. Much
philological study has preferred to find certainty in comparative
evidence, rather than in the analysis of received streams of tradition,
and has been sceptical towards the tradition of reading. But modern
linguistic methods have reopened the question, and striking results
have been achieved by the work of Morag on the reading traditions
of the Yemenite Jews.2 It is by no means true, as scholarly prejudice
has often supposed, that such traditions are ‘artificial’—which
would mean, presumably, the product of factors unconnected with,
and irrelevant to, the original situation of the literature being read.
The agreement between certain Yemenite phonetic features and
elements in the Babylonian system of pointing, the fact that the
Yemenites have different pronunciations for their reading of the
Bible and their reading of the Mishnah, and the existence in their
reading of biblical Hebrew of phones non-existent in their own
Arabic vernacular, all suggest the presence of valuable historical
evidence.
1 This argument is logically the same as that which Bergstrasser is said to
have made when Kahle first announced his theory of an innovating activity by
the Massoretes. The innovators, Bergstrasser argued, must in that case at least
have read Brockelmann’s smaller comparative grammar; how else could the
innovations have been reconcilable with use in a comparative reconstruction ? See
Hempel in ZAW lxi (1945-8) 251; Kutscher in JSS x (1965) 43.
2 S. Morag, ( העברית שבפי יהודי תימןJerusalem, 1963)· See review article
by E. Y. Kutscher in JSS xi (1966) 217-25.
218 THE MASSORETES, VOCALIZATION A N D EM E N D A T IO N
Morag has discussed the question whether such traditions were
stabilized at a time when the original language was still a living
one. Such may be the case, he has suggested,1 when three con-
ditions are fulfilled:
(a) that the system used is stable and consistent in itself;
(b) that it does not conform to features known in the vernacular
of the time;
(*:) that its structural relation to other forms of the same language
group is capable of formulation in terms of historical
linguistics.
The growth and preservation of a liturgical reading tradition is
no doubt a special case within linguistic history; but its special
character by no means makes it unrelatable to the general processes
of linguistic change: only the conditions for such change are pecu-
liar. If, then, the Massoretes registered in their pointing the state
of such a tradition in their own time, there is no reason to doubt
that this tradition was connected with earlier stages of the Hebrew
language by lines of development analogous to other known pro-
cesses of linguistic change.
In preference to the sharp distinction between a reliable con-
sonantal text and an unreliable vocalization, one might rather hold
that the two aspects were interdependent. For example, graphic
error in the written text has sometimes been the occasion for con-
fusions in the vocalization. I would take this to be so in the parallel
texts quoted above, where Ps. 18. 11 ! י ל אis likely to be the right
text.2 The easy graphic error 1( י ל אII Sam. 22. 11) then gene-
rates the vocalization ל ל אwhich is natural to this writing.3 This
leads towards a textual rather than a philological solution; indeed,
what we are saying is only what was logically implied in the
traditional textual criticism. Moreover, this argument suggests
that it is quite wrong to believe in a reliable consonantal text later
wrongly vocalized through misunderstanding. The two are inter-
dependent, and an erroneous writing may sometimes generate a
vocalization which is suitable for that writing.4
1 In a paper given to the International Conference on Semitic Studies,
Jerusalem, 1965. 2 See above, pp. 192 f.
3 Cf. similar remarks about the case of ד כ י ו, above, p. 202.
4 If we suppose a stage at which the /d/ and /r/ were marked by the same
grapheme, then the case would be one of error in interpretation of a grapheme
which had two phonemic values.
C O N C L U SIO N S 219
The Vulgate has et pueris alienis adhaeserunt יand this also illus-
trates the influence of late Hebrew. Jerome writes:
pro quo scriptum est in Hebraeo, iesphicu, quod Hebraei
interpretantur, έσφ ψ ώ θησαν, et nos uertimus,
adhaeserunt.2
The έσφ ηνώ θ ησ α ν of the ‘Hebrew’ interpretation seems to
depend on the post-biblical verb ‘ פ ק פ קdrive in a wedge’ (Jas-
trow, p. 1211a).3 It is not clear to me how Jerome got from this to
his adhaeserunt.
The sense ‘strike the hands’, already known in antiquity, came
from the biblical verb ס פ קor ש פ ק.
It is interesting that the more obvious late Hebrew sense, that
of ‘be enough’ or ‘have enough’, which is also the more probable
sense philologically,4 nevertheless did not succeed in maintaining
itself in ancient times against other interpretations, one of which
also rested on post-biblical Hebrew but on a much less satisfactory
basis in it. It may be something in the exegetical tradition of the
passage that has caused this. In any case, it is clear that the influence
of post-biblical Hebrew did not always work in the way that would
seem to us most obvious.
At Hos. 8. 13, m t ז ב ח י ה ב ה ב י יז ב חו, one suggested inter-
pretation follows a post-biblical word ‘ ה ב ה בsinge, roast light-
ly’;5 the meaning would be something like ‘burnt-offerings’. At
1 ICC, Isaiah, p. 58.
2 Jerome’s iesphicu here is another vocalization, which, whatever we say about
the ef is clearly in agreement grammatically with the hiphil form of M T.
3 A ש, where it is first radical in verbs, is sometimes taken as if it were a pre-
formative as in shaphel forms. Cf. Isa. 41. 10 א ל״״ ת ש ת ע, LXX μη πλανώ—
surely a construction as from the common ‘ ת ע הgo astray’.
4 This sense is supported for Isa. 2. 6 by Winton Thomas in Z A W lxxv
(1963) 88 f., and also in KB, p. 928.
5 Index, no. 103; cf. earlier BDB, p. 396b; GB, p. 172b.
234 L A T E H EBR EW A N D T H E L O SS OF V O C A B U L A R Y
Prov. 30. 15 a similar word could then mean ‘burn (with erotic
passion)’. Yet it is doubtful if the versions show evidence of in-
fluence from the post-biblical word. Renderings with α γ α π ά ν
suggest simply an analysis as from א ה ב, while those with φερ€
φ6ρ€ are an analysis as from the exhortation ה ב, ה ב ה. The
Targum’s ‘ ד ב ח י ן ד מ ג ב ן מן או ני םsacrifices which they collect
from extortion’, and the Syriac dbJi dgbyt\l also suggest that the
existence of ה ב ה בdid not have much influence on the under-
standing of the passages.
Another example is the Talmudic Hebrew ‘ ל ב ו דcompact,
solid’, used of the building of walls; Syriac has the corresponding
verb, meaning ‘thicken, solidify’. Tur-Sinai believes that the Bible
had this word. He reads Job 38. 30 as:
: כ א מ ן מי ם י ס ח ב א ו ו פני ת הו ם י ס ל ב ד ו
and translates:
‘The waters are hidden as (behind) stone,
and the face of the sea sticketh together.’
He takes this to mean that there is no hole in the heavenly firma-
ment. Since the M T is י ת ל כ ד ו, the explanation assumes a con-
sonantal corruption, as also at 41. 9 (but not at Isa. 5. 8). Since,
however, ל ב ו דwas a technical term in Talmudic law, it is a little
difficult to suppose that, if it was originally present in the text, it
would fall out through misunderstanding. The evidence of late
Hebrew is therefore somewhat unfavourable to the interpretation.
The rare word ‘ י ק ה הobedience’ occurs only at Gen. 49. 10,
Prov. 30. 17. The identification of this word is well established
from comparative sources, e.g. both North and South Arabic. Late
Hebrew and Jewish Aramaic on the other hand seem to show no
trace of continued use. Translations such as LXX π ρ ο σ δο κία ,
Vulgate exspectatioy probably derive from the likeness to the
common ‘ קו הhope’ (Lam. 2. 16 προσδοκάν). The only faint
association in late Hebrew is with ‘ ק ה הfaint, long for’ (Jastrow,
p. 1322a). Yet the Targum with its ו ל י ה י ש ת מ עו ן ע מ מ י א
seems to indicate that the right sense was known. The complete
disuse of a word, perhaps over many centuries, does not seem to
have damaged the preservation of its form and sense; even the
vocalization is in a credible form, and Rashi pointed out that the
1 Brockelmann, Lexicon Syriacum, p. 100b.
L A T E H EBR EW A N D T H E L O SS OF V O C A B U L A R Y 235
formation is the same as in ש מ ח ת. The absence of any other
obvious word with which confusion might have arisen may have
assisted its preservation.
We mentioned above1 the identification by Driver at Jer. 12. 9
of a word ‘ צ ב ו עhyena’. In favour of the identification of such a
word, and against the more normal construction as the passive
participle of the verb ‘to dye, colour’, one or two facts can be
quoted. There is not only the biblical place-name צ ב ע י ם,
which has been construed as ‘valley of hyenas’ ;2 there is also the
post-biblical noun צ ב ו ע, commonly taken to be a hyena, leopard,
or other beast.3 Once again, however, this very fact, while it con-
firms the likelihood that a word צ ב ו עfor hyena existed in the
biblical period, also makes it harder to understand how the con-
sciousness of this meaning at Jer. 12. 9 was lost if in fact this had
been the right meaning. Not only did the word צ ב ו עexist, but
some discussion of the attributes of this strange animal is found in
the literature.4 Moreover, the translation of עי ט צ ב ו עby
<j7TrjAcuov vaLvrjs in the LXX here may itself be not a right diag-
nosis of the biblical sense, but a construction derived from aware-
ness of the post-biblical 5.צ ב ו ע
The possible influence of Aramaic is illustrated in the suggested
identification of a ‘ ש ל הpour out’, with the noun ‘ ש ליdownpour,
outpouring’.
Ezek. 1. 24: MT ‘ קו ל ~ ש ליthe voice of the Almighty’
read ‘ קול״״ ש ליthe sound of a downpour’
II Sam. 1. 21: M T ‘ ש לי ה לו מ תfields of offerings (?)’
read ‘ ש לי ת לו מ תoutpourings of the depths’
But if this Hebrew word existed, it is unlikely that interpreters
would lose touch with it, because of the presence of the Aramaic
ש ל י, which is very common. The Aramaic א ש לalso means ‘pour
out’ e.g. Targ. Mic. 1. 4. In B. Ber. 54b the biblical noun א ש ל
(Num. 21. 15) is interpreted as ‘poured out’ ( ;) ש פ ךwe can be sure
that this Aramaic verb was present in the minds of interpreters.
These considerations make it more difficult to accept the sugges-
tion of a Hebrew ש ל הwith the same sense.
1 Cf. above, p. 128. 2 See BDB, p. 84
3 See Jastrow, p. 1257b. 4 See references in Jastrow, ibid.
5 Cf. the discussion below, pp. 260 ff.
236 LA TE HEBREW AND T H E LO SS OF VOCABULARY
We may conclude with the curious example of a word which,
reconstructed for the biblical text, even achieved mention in a
dictionary of modern Hebrew, and yet probably had no genuine
history at all: the supposed ‘ ע מ ל ץshark’. The M T of Ps. 74. 14
has:
ציי ם1? ת ה עו מ א כ ל ל ע ם
and a reorganization of this text as
ת ת עו מ א כ ל ל ע מ ל צ י ; ם
‘you gave it as food to the sharks of the sea’1
has received considerable recognition and acceptance. It came from
I. Low, and Koehler calls it ‘simple and brilliant’ ;2 it is registered
in KB, p. 715b.
The positing of a word ‘ ע מ ל ץshark’ seems intrinsically very
attractive; in the end, however, one must doubt its correctness.
Apart from Hebrew itself, it seems quite doubtful whether cognates
of the supposed ע מ ל ץhave ever existed in any Semitic language
as names for any kind of fish. The appeal made by Low was to the
Arabic m-l-s. The change from an assumed א מ ל ץto ע מ ל ץis
not in itself very difficult. Greater difficulty lies in the meaning of
the Arabic itself. The verb m-l-s seems to mean ‘be slippery’.3 A
form יamlas is actually cited with the sense of a ‘smooth-headed
man’, and also of ‘a thing that slips out of one’s hand by reason of
its smoothness’. But for ‘a fish that slips from the hand by reason
of its smoothness’ the word is malisa. All senses quoted by Lane
and relevant to fish are senses for fish which slip out of the hand.
It is quite doubtful whether 5amlas (or any other word from this
root) is the name for a kind of fish.
Thus the comparative basis for the suggestion is not strong.
When we turn to consider the evidence in extra-biblical Hebrew,
the position is again doubtful. Has the word ( ע מ ל ץor ) ע כ ל ץ
ever been used in Hebrew ? The dictionary of Grossmann, revised
by Segal, indeed enters this word with the gloss ‘shark’, but marks
it as a ‘modern’ word. I have not been able to find any previous
history of usage. There is no entry in Ben-Jehuda. The suggestion
1 Cf. the confusion of ‘ יםsea’ and the plural ending implied by a familiar
reconstruction at Am. 6. 12.
2 See Koehler, D Lz nf ii (1925) 1055; O T S viii (1950) 151.
3 See Lane, vii. 2736. Cf. also the consideration mentioned above, p. 165.
L A T E H EBR EW A N D T H E L O SS OF V O C A B U L A R Y 237
for Ps. 74. 14 is indeed mentioned in that Thesaurus, xi. 5459b; but
even there it is treated only as a suggestion, and a doubtful one at
that. This hardly suggests that the word had an authentic history;
the entry in Grossmann-Segal seems itself to be a modern
proposal made on the basis of Low's suggestion for Ps. 74. 14! If
so, it seems hardly to have succeeded, for the word actually used
for ‘shark’ is tZTHS.1
•T
Such then are some illustrations of the use of evidence from
post-biblical Hebrew. Much more requires to be done to investi
gate the lexical relationships between the biblical and the post-
biblical language. The more obvious similarities, we may expect,
have long been observed; while modern investigation has tended
to look rather towards the other cognate languages than towards
late Hebrew. But even when suggestions have been inspired
primarily by evidence from outside Hebrew, the post-biblical
Hebrew evidence can do much to furnish a cross-check and to help
us evaluate the probability of the suggestions.
1 I now find that our strange word is a technical term for one species of
shark in modern usage. This however does not alter the argument.
X
(i) General
T h is chapter will be devoted to a discussion of the way in which
the early Versions’, i.e. the translations from the Hebrew Bible
into Greek, Latin, Aramaic, and other languages, have been used
in philological treatments.
In textual treatments the versions have commonly been evaluated
as a separate witness to the original text. That is to say, a version
like the LXX, in the absence of substantial variants in the Hebrew
MSS., gives testimony to a text many centuries earlier than the
MT, and thus enables us to get behind the M T and reconstruct an
earlier form of the Hebrew text. This reconstruction fits with the
context, explains how the LXX reading originated, and provides
some reasonable possibility, under the accepted canons for prob
able scribal mistakes, of explaining also the origin of the present
M T reading. Actually the procedure is considerably more compli
cated than this; but this statement will suffice for our purpose.
The essential thing is that, in this approach, the M T being con
sidered difficult or doubtful, the LXX (or other version) is used as
a source from which a Hebrew text different from M T is recon
structed. This implies retranslation from the version.1 This is
sometimes carelessly phrased by saying that the LXX ‘read’ such
and such a Hebrew word.
The traditional term ‘read’ is ambiguous in this context. When
scholars say that the LXX ‘read’ such and such a Hebrew word,
this may mean that the Greek text, if retranslated into Hebrew,
would provide such and such a Hebrew text; it may also mean that
such and such were the actual signs on the manuscript from which
the translation was made. We have no direct means of knowing
what they ‘read’ in the latter of these senses, and all we can tell
1 Goshen-Gottstein, in a penetrating recent study of methods in the use of
the versions, uses the term ‘retroversion’; see Textus iii (1963) 130-58.
GENERAL 239
directly is what they wrote in Greek (or, respectively, in another
language). From what they wrote in Greek, taken in relation to
other known characteristics of the version, we can form hypotheses
about the Hebrew text from which the translators worked.
Knowledge of this Hebrew text, however, is indirect rather than
direct. In the use of a version there are two steps to set against one
in the transmission or quotation of a text in the same language.
There are the signs seen in the original text, and there is the pro
cess of creating a new text in a new language. Since we have direct
access only to the final product, i.e. the text produced in the new
language, it is by a process of indirect decision that we determine
how much of this new text is to be attributed to decisions of the
translation process and how much is to be attributed to the signs
of the original text.
This indirectness of the use of the versions is not mentioned in
order to suggest that the versions are not reliable as a source of
guidance; that the procedure is an indirect one is, in my opinion,
a mere matter of fact, which has to be borne in mind in all our
judgements about the relation of versions to the text from which
they were translated.1
In any case the procedure of reconstruction of the original text
by retroversion from the LXX or other translation is a very
familiar one, perhaps the most familiar of all textual procedures
with Old Testament texts at the present time. Many hundreds of
suggestions in B H 3 follow this pattern.
This procedure is akin to, and often complementary with, the
procedure of emendation. Since the version does not provide direct
evidence of a different Hebrew text, there is a conjectural element
in any textual suggestion, however probable, which depends on
versional evidence, which would not be present if we were weighing
different Hebrew manuscripts. Thus textual reconstruction on the
basis of versions is easily allied with the more general practice of
emendation, which may either have or lack versional support; and
a very large number of emendations in fact make some sort of
appeal to the versions. There is, however, a wide diversity in the
degree to which emendations ‘on the basis of LXX’ (or similar
1 My position is, I think, exactly the same as that taken by Goshen-Gottstein
in the sample edition of Isaiah; e.g. p. 13, *a reading inferred by retroversion,
however plausible, is not the same as a reading in Hebrew, in black and white*;
and p. 24: *almost every assumption of a variant by means of retroversion is a
matter of doubt*. See my review in jfS S xii (1967) 113-22.
240 T H E U S E O F E V ID E N C E F R O M T H E V E R S IO N S
phrases) really rest on versional evidence (at one end of the scale)
or (at the other end) merely quote the versions in connexion with
a reconstruction which is logically almost entirely conjectural.
Philological treatments use the versions in a rather different way.
They do not necessarily deny the approach which has just been
outlined. But their main interest lies in another direction.
In philological treatments the versions have been evaluated
primarily not as witnesses to a different text, but rather as witnesses
which, while they follow from the same text (with room for altera
tions of vocalization as discussed above), provide confirmatory
evidence for, or clues towards, a different understanding of it.1
These understandings are taken to agree with the philological re
interpretation of the same text on the basis of cognate languages.
As with textual treatments the value of the clues provided by
a version does not depend on the rightness of its translation. A
rendering in a version is quite frequently taken to be valuable
evidence of linguistic understanding even though at the point
where it is found it is a wrong interpretation. The fact that the
version could make this particular error is evaluated as evidence
that the meaning in question, even if erroneously applied in trans
lating at this point, was nevertheless well known to the translators.
Thus, it is argued, it furnishes evidence for their linguistic under
standing, and may be applied as confirmation at points where
philologists have seen clues from cognate languages pointing in
the same direction.
Thus the practice of philological treatments has often been to
use the LXX or other version not as a direct corrective of M T but
as evidence for the identification by comparative methods of
Hebrew words or senses previously unknown. For the general
approach we may quote Professor Winton Thomas:2
The Septuagint. . . frequently presupposes Hebrew words which are
1 It should be added that there is a considerable difference of opinion about
the value of the versions in relation to philological treatments. Driver has on the
whole valued them highly. An opposite position is taken by Albright who,
claiming that scores of passages in the Psalms have been cleared up on the basis
of Ugaritic, writes (Peake’s Commentary, p. 63): *In virtually every case the LXX
translators were just as ignorant of the true meaning as were the Massoretes.’
Cf. recently Dahood, Psalms, p. xxiv. Albright and Dahood, however, actually
use versional evidence, inconsistently, a good deal more than this would suggest.
See my further remarks below, p. 268. It is Driver’s approach that will mainly
concern us here, since it at least makes the versions worth studying.
2 In Record and Revelation, p. 396.
GENERAL 241
only explicable by reference to one or other of the Semitic languages,
more particularly to Arabic. ‘Arabisms’ in the LXX have, of course,
been suspected before now, and indeed some have already been
recovered. Recently, however, the extent to which the Septuagint
translators could ‘Arabize’ has gradually become more apparent.
Some examples are next given, and the passage continues:
How are these ‘Arabizing’ renderings to be explained ? It is not to be
supposed that the LXX translators had any knowledge of Arabic, any
more than had Ben Sira’s grandson, who frequently ‘Arabizes’ when
translating his grandfather’s work. On the contrary, it can only be
assumed that these words originally belonged to the common stock of
the Semitic languages, and that they formed at one time part of the
Hebrew vocabulary, but that their meaning was generally lost, to be
retained only by the Egyptian Jews, and traceable today only through
the medium of Arabic. In the same way must be explained those render
ings in the LXX which presuppose other Semitic languages.
A good first example is Ps. 47. 10 η » » »’■ ־
literally apparently ‘the shields of the earth’. The LXX (46. 10) has
ol KparaLOL τ η ς γ η ς ‘the powerful of the earth’, cf. also Syriac
5whdnyh d Y y ‘the powers of the earth’.1 The normal Hebrew sense
‘shield’ has been felt to be strange: are there ‘shields of the earth’
which belong to God? Emendations have been suggested which
produce a sense like ‘princes’; in these the versions are used as
clues to construct a consonantal text different from MT. A philo״
logical treatment is offered by Driver, who says that the LXX here
provides ‘far the earliest evidence’ for the root of Arabic majin
‘bold’.2 Perhaps, then, there was a Hebrew ‘bold, insolent’,
preserved only through the versional evidence. KB, following
Driver, registers this as a Hebrew word.
The textual and the philological treatments both result in
roughly similar senses (‘princes’ or ‘insolent ones’, against the
traditional ‘shields’), but the mode by which this result is reached
is different. In the one case it is reached by altering the text, in
the other by offering a different explanation of the same text.
We do not need to decide now whether this philological explana
tion is the right one. In addition to these possibilities, one can also
say that the meaning is ‘shields’ and that this is a figurative
1 Brockelmann, Lexicon Syriacum, p. 12a.
2 But what if the Arabic sense ‘bold’ is derived from the senses *to joke, jest,
jeer, make insolent jokes’, etc. ?
24* T H E U S E O F E V ID E N C E F R O M T H E V E R S IO N S
expression for the rulers or the mighty ones of the earth. This
explanation through metaphor, if correct, also removes the original
difficulty. It implies that the LXX were vague about the meaning
and gave a general guess; or that in the translation they abandoned
the metaphor and gave expression to that to which the figure
referred, rather than reproduce the figure itself in Greek.1
Job io. 22 has the phrase:
ו ל א ס ד רי ם. . . א ך ץ עי פ ת ה
Now the familiar Hebrew ס ד רmeans ‘order’. It is not impossible
to take the sentence in this way and understand as ‘a land of dark-
ness and chaos’, but there are certain peculiarities. Firstly, a better
figure might be absence of light rather than absence of order;
secondly, the plural of ‘ ס ל לorder’ is unusual; thirdly, ס ד ר
‘order’, though a very familiar late Hebrew word, is not found
elsewhere in the Bible. Now the LXX rendering is:
els γ η ν σ κό το υς αιω νίου, ου ούκ e a n v φ έ γ γ ο ς
‘into a land of eternal darkness, where there is no light’.
Using this as confirmation, Driver cites Arabic sadira ‘be dazzled
by glare’, and thus identifies a sense of ‘rays of light’ for the Hebrew
*.ר ״י םτ ד: ס
More important, because affecting a more frequent and more
central word, is the case of שו ב. Driver has identified for certain
passages a verb which is quite distinct from the familiar ב1ש
‘return’. The word ‘return’ is cognate with Arabic taba (w), but the
new word is cognate with Arabic saba (y) ‘run, wander at random’,
used especially of beasts.
At Jer. 8. 6 M T has (K) ס ר צ ו ת ם3 כ לי ה שב. Since the refer-
ence seems to be to the roaming or straying of animals, and ‘return’
does not seem to give good sense, Duhm emended to ‘ שטgo to
and fro’. But Driver, retaining the M T and explaining it as
‘wander at random’, cites the LXX:
hieXnrev 6 τ ρ έχ ω ν άττο το υ δρόμου α ύ το ΰ
1 Cf. further below, pp. 251 if.
2 He omits the words כ מו א פ ל צ ל מו תas a gloss. To that extent the treat-
ment is textual; but presumably the gloss, if gloss it is, would have been an
explanation of the strange word ס ד רי םand thus would be a textual gloss with
a philological reason. In a completely different philological treatment, Tur-Sinai,
Job, pp. 184 ff., takes ס ד רי םas exorcistic ‘arrangements’ of words.
GENERAL 243
and claims that the Peshitta with its mhlkyn ‘walking about’ pro-
vides further support.1
One of the forms which shows substantial homonymy in Hebrew
is ע נ ה. This is further increased if we follow those scholars who
have found yet another verb, cognate with Arabic ganiya ‘stay in
a place’. This has been identified at Mai. 2. 12 in the difficult
phrase ע ל, which is thus taken to mean ‘gadabout and
stay-at-home’; and also at Isa. 13. 22:
תיוT מ נו: ל: א- ב: איי ם
· ״
ענ ה ו
T T :
So it can be argued that the LXX were familiar with the verb in
the sense already known for the Arabic cognate. At Mai. 2. 12,
however, this is not so; the rendering Ta7T€1vcodfj depends on the
more familiar verb ‘ ע נ הbe humbled’. Thus the claim for recogni-
tion by LXX is modified by non-recognition on their part at
another place.2
The procedure outlined above is not in any way confined to the
LXX itself. It can be used in relation to the other ancient Greek
versions, as preserved in the fragments of Origen’s Hexapla and
elsewhere, and also to versions in other languages, such as the
Aramaic Targum.
Take the attractive case of the word ע ש, which is normally
understood to mean ‘moth’. At Hos. 5. 12, however, it occurs in
1 One may doubt, however, whether the Syriac word when taken in context
means this. The whole phrase is klhwn mhlkyn hsbynhwn ‘all of them walk in their
own good pleasure’, very close to the Targumic ; כו ל הון מ סגן ב ר עו ת נ פ ש הון
cf. also the Greek rendering of 6 Σύρος. Probably □ ב מ ר צו תwas diagnosed as
a form from ל צ ה, and this fact then led to the rendering of the verb as ‘walking’;
this produces the commonplace ‘walking in one’s own will or pleasure’. The
Vulgate with its omnes conuersi sunt ad cursum suum agrees with the more
traditional understanding.
2 Cf. further below, p. 250. Non-recognition in Mai. 2. 12 is itself no insuper-
able objection. It is perfectly possible that the Isaiah translator knew a word
which was unknown to the translator of the Dodecapropheton. In so far, how-
ever, as there is any force in the argument that a word is recognized by several
translators, the converse must also be acknowledged, that it is proper to notice
when recognition by more than one translator does not take place.
244 T H E U S E O F E V ID E N C E F R O M T H E V E R S IO N S
parallelism with ‘ ל ק בrottenness, pus’. Symmachus has ζνρώ ς,
while Aquila has β ρ ω σ τή ρ . It is then possible to follow Driver and
hold that there are more words ע שthan one. One of them, meaning
‘moth’, corresponds to Arabic 'utt; another, meaning ‘pus, rotten־
ness’, corresponds to Arabic gatt. Driver also identifies a third
word ע שmeaning ‘bird’s nest’, but for the sake of clarity we leave
this aside for the present. We note simply that the evidence comes
not from the LXX but from the later versions.1
Symmachus is not necessarily right in his rendering; he writes
βύρώς ‘rot’ at places where the meaning is certainly ‘moth’, such
as Isa. 50. 9, Ps. 39. 12. But the erroneous rendering may still
be good evidence. At Ps. 31. 11 we have similar renderings of the
verb ( ע ש שSymmachus βνρω τίασαν). At Job 27. 18, where the
M T has ע ש, the Targum has 2.ל ק ב ו ב י ת א
Thus, though the LXX will be the most frequently quoted,
other versions may supply evidence equally well.
Erroneous renderings, as we have seen, may be taken as good
evidence for the translators’ knowledge of Hebrew; and under
these circumstances, not surprisingly, arguments of some consider-
able subtlety can be found. Consider the following example.
Tob it 1. 13 reads:
κ α ί eScoKev [/xoc S] 6 ν φ ισ το ς χά ρ ιν κα ί μ ο ρ φ ή ν ένώττιον jEW/zea־
σαρου.
occurs elsewhere only in I Sam. 15. 19, where LXX has ώρμησας
‘rushed’ (upon the spoil), and 25. 14, where we have:
m t וי ע ט ב ה ם
V τ - —ך
(6) Etymologizing
Etymologizing is the procedure of interpreting a word by refer
ence to the meaning of another (usually a better-known) Hebrew
word which had a similarity to it and could, in more modern
terminology, be taken as its root; or a word may be analysed into
separate units from which it is taken to have been made up. More
extreme still, a translator may strive, as Aquila sometimes did, to
represent words of common root in Hebrew with words of common
root in Greek. Though the etymologizing tendency is stronger in
1 Dahood, Psalms, i. 64.
254 T H E U S E O F E V ID E N C E F R O M T H E V E R S IO N S
the later Greek translators, it appears sporadically also in the
LXX.
Isa. 16. 7 has a rare word ; א שי שי םDriver has argued that it
means ‘luxurious dwellers’, after Arabic יatta ‘be luxuriant, luxu-
rious; live comfortably’. Whether this is so or not, it is not sup-
ported by the tols ev^paivopuzvoLs of Symmachus; this is an
etymologizing guess from the similarity to the familiar שישhe-
joice’, so translated by him at Jer. 32 (39). 41, cf. L X X atIsa.61.10.
Etymologizing is also the probable explanation for the rendering
of ל א מ י םby apxovres at Gen. 27. 29, Isa. 34. 1, 41. 1, 43. 4, 9,
and by /SacrtAefs’ at Isa. 51. 4. At first sight, the frequency makes
this identification very impressive. Driver writes: ‘One cannot
deny this sense, so frequently attested’; but he holds that this sense
is never right at the places where the LXX find it; it is actually
found at Ps. 148. 11, 7. 8. The former reads:
: מ ל כ י ־ א ר ץ ו כ ל ־ ל א מ י ם ש רי ם ו כ ל ־ ש פ ט י א ר ץ
Here Targum and Peshitta have renderings such as bsr Ih, giving
also the sense ‘despise’, though the Vulgate with its pauper autem
prudens scrutabitur eum does not support them; and with Jerome
there stand Aquila and Theodotion whose όξιχνιά σ ει follows the
more normally recognized sense of this verb. It is not easy to
maintain that the LXX reached their rendering at 28. 11 by mere
guesswork from the context, and the philological suggestion (by
Winton Thomas), while hardly absolutely certain, is well worth
consideration. The ח ק לי ״ ״ ל בof Judges 5.16 might then be thought
of as ‘scornings of the heart’, which in the context would be a
good sense. Another example occurs at Prov. 25. 27, but there the
LXX is very remote from the Hebrew and probably offers no
guidancec
Finally we may mention, for the sake of its intrinsic interest, the
peculiar rendering of ‘ ב א ל ץin the land’ as μ ό λ ις ‘scarcely’ at
Prov. 11. 31:
m t : סן צ ד י ק ב א ך ץ י ש ל ם א ף כ י ־ ר ש ע ו חו ט א
L X X et ο μβν δίκ α ιος μ ό λ ις σ ώ ζετα ι,
ο άσββης κ α ι α μ α ρ τω λ ό ς 7του φ α ν ^ΐτα ι;
(11) Conclusions
The above discussion has taken account of the main factors and
problems which may be met in the use of the versions as evidence
for philological treatments. It remains to try to sum up the
matter with a general evaluation of the use of versional evidence.
The first thing to realize is that many passages which are difficult
for us today were difficult for the ancient translators also. In such a
position of difficulty these translators had to make what they could
out of the context and out of such indications as the text (i.e.,
primarily, the unpointed written text) had to offer. These indica-
tions might include ‘etymological’ similarities to other words,
1 Driver in J T S xli (1940) 165 f.
2 Driver in A J S L lii (1935-6) 165; cf., however, his somewhat different
treatment in Biblica xxxii (1951) 182.
C O N C L U S IO N S 267
especially to words which were more familiar; they might oc-
casionally include suggestions and influences from the vocabulary
of other languages known to the translators; and they quite
commonly included a practice in which the letters were taken in a
different sequence or otherwise jumbled, or arbitrary word-
divisions were implied.1
In taking guidance from the context the ancient translators
worked from the more familiar words to the more uncertain; and
they were influenced by parallelisms and the general tenor of the
passage, and by associations with words which accidentally had
occurred just before. Their procedure was not entirely different
from that of the modern philological interpreter, and so it is not
surprising if from time to time their results agree with or seem to
support those produced by philological treatments. Though many
other considerations of the modern interpreter were absent from
the mind of his ancient predecessor, the influence of context
worked in a similar way. When the two agree, it is often the
result not of knowledge of a rare word but of analogous divination
from the context.
My own study of past examples, where scholars have offered
versional evidence to support the identification of Hebrew words
not previously recognized, has led on the whole to an unfavourable
judgement. Out of well over one hundred examples closely studied,
using the criteria and considerations discussed in this chapter,
only a few seem to me to be certainly valid examples, while another
proportion of perhaps 15 per cent, may present some reasonable
probability. In a considerable majority of examples the versional
evidence can be explained more easily in some other way than as an
indication that unusual Hebrew words were exactly known to the
translators.
It should not be altogether surprising if this conclusion is
reached. Let us consider particularly the position of the LXX.
Philological treatments, as I have shown, often imply a very op-
timistic picture of the knowledge of Hebrew vocabulary on the
part of the Greek translators. But this optimistic picture is by no
1 See examples like ד ג ל, p. 262; ש כ ב ת, p. 137 n.; ת ש ת ע, p. 233 n . ; ל ה ק ת,
pp. 25 f., 231 f., 270 f. Similarly the rendering of the unusual verb נ כ רby
7re7rpaK€v at I Sam. 23. 7 is probably not evidence of knowledge of a rare verb
meaning ‘sell’; faced with a puzzling form, the translators just guessed that it
belonged to * מ כ רsell’, which luckily enough gave good sense. Cf. above, p. 209;
Index, no. 214.
268 T H E U S E O F E V ID E N C E F R O M T H E V E R S IO N S
means that which the classical tradition of Septuagintal studies has
maintained. Swete for instance writes:1
The majority of the translators had probably learnt the sacred
language in Egypt from imperfectly instructed teachers, and had few
opportunities of making themselves acquainted with the traditional
interpretation of obscure words and contexts which guided the
Palestinian Jew.
Thus philological opinion itself has traditionally been far from
unanimous in its optimism about the guidance to be found in the
versions. My own assessment of the versions is far from a negative
one. It seems to me in general that the ancient translators did
their task remarkably well, considering the circumstances.2 Their
grasp of Hebrew, however, was very often a grasp of that which is
average and customary in Hebrew. Our concern, on the other
hand, has been for abnormal or rare words or meanings. Rarity in
the sense of quite out-of-the-way terms in subjects like architecture
and tools did not necessarily leave the translators too much at a
loss. Where it is a matter, however, of obscure words in normal
contexts and of strange meanings for common words, there was a
strong tendency towards the levelling of the vocabulary and the
interpretation of that which was rare as if it was that which was
more normal.
Sporadic aberrant renderings may then quite accidentally
provide an apparent agreement with an unusual identification
made by us today.
In the case of the LXX a significant point is its setting within
the Egyptian Jewish community. The complete domination of
Greek within this community rendered it particularly lacking in
access to reliable knowledge of the sense of obscure Hebrew words.
Thus, in so far as a translation was likely to depend on local sources
1 Swete, Introduction, p. 319; and, for the opinion of a master in philology,
see Nöldeke, Die alttestamentliche Literatur (Leipzig, 1868), p. 246. Cf. also
above, p. 240 n.
2 Terms like ‘incompetence’ have, however, been quite freely used; e.g. Katz,
‘Septuagintal Studies’, p. 200, summarizing and confirming the conclusions of
earlier workers: ‘The translator of Isaiah who worked at an early date was com
pletely unequal to his task. Many Hebrew words were unknown to him . . .’. I
differ, however, from workers like Dahood whose principle is that their philo
logical identifications from Ugaritic are right and that the LXX, which does not
recognize these, is therefore wrong. Against many of Dahood’s interpretations
I would consider that the absence of support from the LXX shows that the latter
did know Hebrew quite well. Cf. p. 240, n. 1.
C O N C L U S IO N S 269
of knowledge of the original tongue, the setting in Egypt counts
against a high expectancy of accuracy in the LXX.
This is particularly so, secondly, because the LXX bears the
marks of an origin very early in the total history of Bible trans
lating. Its translation is extremely uneven. Later the Jewish com
munity, after growing experience of the trouble which could be
caused by inaccurate translation, especially when it could be
exploited in theological controversy, came to seek greater accuracy
and uniformity; and so also did the Christians at a later time. The
later Greek translations may on the whole be expected to have
shown greater care and diligence in finding out what was really
known of Hebrew idioms; but etymologizing and literalizing
techniques may in return have obscured much of this diligence.
In general, then, the setting in the Egyptian community, and at
so early a date, should tend to make us doubt any great claims for
knowledge of rare lexical items on the part of the LXX. This does
not mean that such unusual knowledge may not sporadically
appear; but, to state the argument conversely, if we find that true
instances of confirmation of philological solutions by LXX
evidence are rare, then this would not conflict with our general
knowledge of the origin of this version.
Another way in which the evidence of the versions may be
tested is to consider cases in which the meaning, as discerned by
philological treatments, has not been seen by the versions. Even
those scholars who have most frequently maintained that the LXX
or other version discerned rightly a sense which philology has now
demonstrated to be correct have even more frequently had to say,
or at least to imply, that the versions missed the sense entirely.
Out of all the philological identifications which have been offered,
the number which can reasonably claim some degree of right
recognition by the ancient translators is not high—well below
25 per cent., I should say, even at a generous estimate, and
perhaps something nearer to 10 per cent. Thus, while there is
every reason to expect that versional evidence will occasionally
show correct recognition of a word now known to us through
comparative philology, the record of philological work itself does
not lead us to expect that such correct recognition will be
statistically very frequent.
Again, if we take not the total number of philological treatments
but the number of those which seem to us to be highly successful,
270 T H E U S E O F E V ID E N C E F R O M T H E V E R S IO N S
once more we find the relation of the versions to the right sense to
be rather weak statistically. I would consider it to be a highly
probable treatment when Ginsberg discovers a ‘ ר ב עdust’ in Num.
23. 10:
מי מנ ה ע פ ר י ע ק ב ו מ ס פ ר א ת ר ב ע י ש ר א ל
But if the word meant ‘dust’, this was unknown to LXX (τις εξάρι-
θμήσεται δήμους Ισραήλ;), to Jerome (nosse numerum stirpis Israel),
to the Targum, which paraphrases on the basis of the sense ‘four’,
as does Aquila (τον τετάρτου Ισραήλ), or to the Peshitta (rwb'h
4the quarter’).1
Again, the attractive explanation of Π1ΤΓΠΡ?? at Gen. 49. 5 as
‘counsels, plans’ makes good sense and has good philological
support.2 The LXX rendering, εξ αίρέσεως αυτών, cannot be given
a quite clear interpretation, but it seems rather probable that the
εξ represents the מof the Hebrew word, and that no root מ כ לwas
identified. Aquila with άνασκαφαί certainly saw here the verb PHD
‘dig’. Other versions give either a distant paraphrase or the sense
‘weapons’, which, even if it should be right, does not indicate any
exact understanding of the word מ כ ר ת י ה ם, since this sense would
probably be deduced from the context, and especially from the
preceding כ ל י, in any case. There is no evidence that any version
had linguistic knowledge which would support any philological
suggestion.
Again, I would consider that the identification of Πp ל הat I Sam.
19. 203 is an attractive and probable treatment. The versional
renderings, however, are more naturally interpreted as general
surmises of the sense than as correct identifications of a rare word.
LXX has εκκλησίαν, which could be taken to imply that their
Hebrew manuscripts had ( ק ה ל תso the traditional textual treat-
ment) but more probably is rather a construing of a written ל ה ק ת
as if it were ק ה ל ת. The Peshitta likewise has knP ‘assembly’.
The Targum’s ‘ ס י ע תcompany’ is a very general rendering, and
the cuneum of the Vulgate probably means simply a ‘number’ or
‘quantity’.4 The later Greek translators all have words simply
1 Index, no. 294, cf. no. 295. Cf. also above, p. 11 n.
2 See above, p. 57. A review of the evidence will be found in Skinner, Genesis
(ICC), p. 516 n. 3 See above, pp. 25 f., 231 f., 267 n.
4 Ducange provides an entry of the sense ‘any number of men or things’,
and from Jerome’s own writing one can cite adv. Iovin. 2. 8: quasi quidam pertur-
bationum cunei ad arcem nostrae mentis intraverint; cf. also ep. 92. 3.
C O N C L U S IO N S 27 1
(1) Onomatopoeia
Professor Driver has laid some emphasis on the onomatopoetic
origin of Semitic words, and this has been apparent especially in
attempts to identify biblical birds and animals from their names.
Thus:
Many of the names of birds will be found to be in Hebrew as in
other languages onomatopoeic in origin; but no exact reproduction of a
bird’s cry must be expected. The onomatopoeon may represent a real
attempt to reproduce the original sound or may be a mere echoing
repetition of a single note to give the effect of a monotonous cry; and it
may undergo every form of linguistic assimilation or dissimilation.1
The principle is then extended to all sorts of other words.
Driver argues, for instance, that the element ג ע, as found in ג ע ש, is
a noise made in the abdomen when relaxing or in the bottom of the
throat when vomiting; it is then applied to groaning or to disgust.
When used of rivers and waters, it means ‘rise up’, and this
explains ו תג ע שat Ps. 18. 8.2
The principle is further extended so that it decides what is
primary and what is secondary in meaning. The familiar ע1ג
4expire, die’ is related, by similar onomatopoetic formation, to
1 PEQ April, 1955, p. 5; cf. ZAW lxv (1953) 255, 258; JSS vii (1962) 15 f.
2 ETL xxvi (1950) 341; cf. Greenfield in HUCA xxix (1958) 205 f.
274 L IN G U IS T IC , L IT E R A R Y , A N D C U L T U R A L PR O B L E M S
many words for throat or bowel sounds, and therefore must
‘originally’ have meant ‘gasp for breath’ and only secondarily
‘die’. By the same token the state of death is ‘properly’ expressed
by מ ל ת, originally ‘be mute’ (like many other words using/m/), and
so ‘be silent in death’.1
These reasonings, then, have an effect on the estimation of
probabilities in linguistic history. In the question whether there
is a verb ף0 ‘ כbe pale’, a start is made from the assertion that the
biliteral base /g, k, q + z, s, s/ expresses onomatopoetically the
sound of cutting and tearing. Then, it is argued, there is an easy
development from breaking to paleness, and kaspu, like Arabic
Jidda, will originally have described silver as ‘broken stuff’, since
it was purified by breaking two or three times.
Thus the onomatopoetic theory is used to state the sequence of
semantic development. The meanings of Hebrew words cannot be
deduced from cognate languages without some view of general
semantic probabilities. An onomatopoetic theory, because by its
nature it attempts to state something extremely early in language
formation, tends to dominate the assessment of developments in
meaning. It therefore has considerable importance for our present
subject.
Of this theory of onomatopoeia, it must be said that it has not
approved itself to the majority of Semitic scholars, nor does it
appear to have the support of modern general linguistics.2 There
has been a general abandonment of the attempt to find in onoma-
topoetic formation the origin for any substantial element in lang-
uage. Even for the names of birds and the like such an origin is
not widely found—for English, consider such names as sparrow,
thrush, or eagle, alongside names like cuckoo, peewit. Even for
sound-imitating words like ding-dong, it has long been noticed that
these vary from language to language, and in each language fall into
1 JSS vii (1962) 15 f.
2 On this see for example Jespersen, Language, pp. 396-411; Bloomfield,
Language, p. 156 f .; Hockett, Course, p. 298 f. Some of the words which look as if
they were onomatopoetic can demonstrably be shown to have become so only
through sound change; Saussure, Course, p. 69, cites French fouet, fouetter
‘whip’, derived from the Latin fagus ‘beech-tree’, which neither sounded like
nor meant a whip. From a more philosophical point of view, Ziff, Semantic
Analysis, p. 25, though himself using onomatopoeia as an argument against
the complete conventionality of language, admits that ‘onomatopoeia is of no
great importance in language’. A particularly good discussion is in Ullmann,
Semantics, pp. 82-96 and elsewhere.
O N O M A T O P O E IA *75
(3) Parallelism
Philological treatments frequently place a very heavy emphasis
upon the phenomenon of parallelism. That parallelism is a
marked feature of Hebrew poetry is a matter of common know-
ledge. But the importance of parallelism becomes even greater
when the establishment of text or of meaning is in doubt. If we
know the meanings, we notice and appreciate the parallelism, and
the parallelism in turn sets the meanings in relief and forms them
into a striking pattern. When we do not know the meanings,
however, the parallelism becomes one of the principal guides by
which we discover the meanings.3 Among philological treatments
of poetical texts, a large proportion make some considerable
appeal to parallelism. Can so heavy a load be placed upon it?
Some sophisticated analyses of parallelism have been produced.
These depend for the most part on the assumption that the mean-
ings of the various Hebrew terms are known. When the study is
rather an attempt to discover the meaning of a word, the situation
is different. The question is not: given the meanings of two parts
of a sentence, what is the nature of the parallelistic relation between
them? It is rather: given a sentence which appears to be paral-
lelistic, and given the meaning of one part, what chances are there
that this will help us to know the meaning of the other part ?
The obvious difficulties are:
(1) We do not know in the beginning whether the verse will be a
synonymous parallelism or some other kind; we may not
even have complete certainty that it is parallelistic at all.
1 In V T x i (1961) 373-85. 2 Ibid., pp. 375 f .; cf. Index, no. 224.
3 Cf. the saying of Menahem ben Saruk, above, p. 62.
278 L IN G U IS T IC , L IT E R A R Y , A N D C U L T U R A L PR O B L E M S
(2) Even where a verse is certainly parallelistic, we do not
certainly know what effect this will have on a particular
word within it. Two elements in a parallelism may be
identical or synonymous within the sense of the customary
definitions of these terms, and yet the words in one element
may have quite considerable differences in meaning from
the words in the other.
The former of these need, perhaps, not be illustrated with
examples; for the second, a simple illustration in the English will
suffice:
Ps. 24. 3: ‘Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord ?
And who shall stand in his holy place?’
1 Cf. in jer. 41.11 (object ;) ר ע ה4 8 .29 ( ;)גאון מו א ב6 . ;) ח מ ס ו שד י שמע( ל
job 20.3 (object ) מו ס ר כ ל מ תי.
P A R A L L E L IS M 281
כ ך מ ק ז ח ת מ אי ש מ ך א ה ו
this was indeed the sense, and so overcame the necessity for a
dubious derivation within Hebrew through ש ע הin a sense like
‘gaze about (in fear)’. Similarly, we have seen in the case of חז ה
how the sense ‘agreement’ was known long ago, but this under-
standing came to be confused and darkened by attempts to derive
from the verb ‘ ח ז הsee’. In such cases the philological treatment
validates the form and meaning as Hebrew, where the tendency to
derive from other extant Hebrew words has obscured or confused
the morphological interpretation and the semantic tradition.
Again, it has been a common tendency to take the Hebrew
מ הי רin a phrase like ( סו פ ר מ ה י לPs. 45. 2) as meaning ‘quick’,
because the verb מ ה רis ‘hasten’; but comparison with the Ethiopic
sense ‘train, teach’ and other cognate senses may suggest that the
sense is rather ‘skilled’. Similarly, in Isa. 16. 5 מ ה ל צ ל קmay be
‘skilled injustice’ rather than ‘swift injustice’. ‘Skilled’ is in fact
given as a gloss in the standard dictionaries; but in KB it is the
second gloss given, while in BDB it is the fourth. The effect of the
comparative information is to restore primacy to a sense which the
Hebrew context itself favours, but which has been somewhat
obscured by the attempt to show derivation from the sense of the
actual verb in Hebrew. Such an attempt, we may add, is favoured
by the tendency to look for a common root-meaning and to
identify it if possible with the sense of the verb.
When we talk of meaning within Hebrew, then, this is the
meaning of units as seen within the collocations in which they
occur and within the semantic fields of agreement and opposition
in which they function. Attempts to state meaning derivationally
cannot be intra-Hebraic in many cases, because the forms and
senses extant in biblical Hebrew may not be those through which
the derivation actually took place. One of the values of the com-
parative approach has been that it has set free senses, which are
likely in the Hebrew context, from domination by derivations
reached from within Hebrew alone.
Our arguments here have some effect on priorities in education
for biblical scholarship. The strong influence of comparative
philological method may have produced an unfortunate over-
emphasis on comparative study in the training of students. The
prestige and fashionableness of the philological approach often
cause students to study a larger number of Semitic languages
than they can master. These languages are not mastered properly
296 SUMMING-UP
and all the effort does not lead to a thorough knowledge of the
texts. This in turn leads to the cheapness and poor quality which
we have sometimes seen reason to deplore in philological treat-
ments of the Hebrew Bible, and especially to the phenomenon of
dictionary-searching.1 To observe this, unfortunately, is not
enough to put a stop to the tendency. The intellectual prestige of
the philological approach is reinforced by the apparent social
prestige of linguistic polymathy. It continues to be widely sup-
posed that study of a large number of Semitic languages is the
gateway to competence in biblical studies.2
All this would not matter if the effect of learning many languages
were accompanied by the acquisition of a thorough knowledge of
Hebrew. This, however, is not always so. Students may sometimes
be found to begin with Hebrew but, before they have really gained
wide experience in this language, to be directed to other languages,
on which their more developed and mature talents are then spent.
Thus the comparative emphasis, though intended for the elucida-
tion of the Hebrew Bible, in educational practice has sometimes
weighted the balance against a thorough knowledge of Hebrew.
Moreover, in the comparative approach there has been a certain
tendency to treat Hebrew as the distinctively unknown language,
while the other Semitic languages (with some exception for
Ugaritic, in which, as we have remarked, comparative insights are
particularly the basis of knowledge) tend to be treated as known
quantities, used as sources from which Hebrew can be elucidated.3
Thus the student, starting out to learn Hebrew, has to learn a
series of languages which are to serve as sources for the elucidation
of Hebrew. Within the study of these other languages, however,
1 Cf. the similar argument of Driver in VTS iv (1957) 5 etc.
2 I have sometimes advised students not to over-extend their mental energies
by attempting too many languages, and thus for example to avoid the effort of
learning Arabic when they had no intention of reading Arabic texts on any scale;
yet have been told that it would be a real disadvantage to them in an academic
career if they had only a small number of Semitic languages registered on their
records.
3 An occasional exception will prove this rule: Driver, discussing Ps. 22. 30
כ ל ־ ד ש נ י ־ א ר ץ, says that the clue is in the Syriac rendering kpnh dV°; this
does not mean famelici terrae (Walton), but ‘those who are wrapped up’ in the
earth. This sense of k-p-n is not in the dictionaries but is suggested by cognate
words such as Hebrew ‘ כ פ ןbe involved, intricate’. Note the parallelism with
י ו ר ד י ע פ ר- כ ל. Thus the Hebrew is used as part of the evidence to explain
the Syriac, and the Syriac, once so explained, is used to explain the Hebrew. This
type of argument is, however, very exceptional in my experience.
S U M M IN G -U P 297
he does not find to anything like the same degree a spirit of ex
pectancy that problems will have to be solved by going outside of
the language being studied: Arabic is not taught as a language
which has to be elucidated through reference to Hebrew. More
over, Arabic is now increasingly taught as a spoken language, and
this enhances its familiarity; sometimes it is the only Semitic
language known to the biblical student as a living mode of com
munication.
Thus the proliferation of the comparative philological approach
has created a practical problem in the teaching of Hebrew. One
might expect the logical sequence to b e: first learn Hebrew; then
gain experience in the reading of Hebrew literature; finally, progress
to a study of cognate languages and their literatures. This sequence
was already made more difficult by the rise of textual emendation,
which greatly limited the ease with which biblical texts could be
used for the simple gaining of experience in reading. Now philo
logical treatments appear to make it doubtful whether there
exists an agreed body of ‘Hebrew’ in the sense in which there is an
agreed body of ‘Greek’ or of ‘French’, and to suggest that there is
no stable basis until ‘Hebrew’ has first been reconstructed from
cognate sources. If such is the case, then the task of teaching is
indeed difficult.
Perhaps, indeed, there is no help for this, and biblical Hebrew
is simply a more corrupt and obscure entity than the other clas
sical and Semitic languages. In its degree of being a consistent and
knowable linguistic entity, suitable for study in itself, Hebrew
may perhaps be more like Ugaritic than like Arabic or Syriac,
more like Sogdian or Tocharian than like Latin or Greek. I am
not sure, however, that this unhappy conclusion should be drawn,
and one doubts whether it has been meant even by those philo
logists who have most devotedly added to the content of Hebrew
from cognate sources.
In spite of the multitude of difficulties and obscurities which have
provoked the recourse to philological treatment, it must be empha
sized that Hebrew is a knowable and manageable linguistic corpus,
with a rich though diverse transmission of meaning from ancient
times on. The gaining of substantial experience within this corpus
is one of the most important ways in which the information yielded
by cognate sources can be controlled; and failure to study and
utilize the tradition of meaning has been one of the ways in which
298 S U M M IN G -U P
the philological approach has tended to impoverish scholarship.1
In spite of our debt to comparative philology, Hebrew does remain
a teachable subject in its own right; and, while the student must
now always be aware of the contributions of cognate languages,
he will, unless he is ready to study these languages thoroughly,
be best employed not in gaining a smattering of them but in
learning how to evaluate, in relation to his Hebrew knowledge, the
suggestions made on the basis of them ״This means that eventually
adequate modes of communication and co-operation have to be
built up between two kinds of scholar: (a) those who really know
the cognate languages or some of them (can any now really know
them all?) and (b) those who only assimilate this knowledge
within their own grasp of Hebrew. But we can at least do something
to depreciate the false prestige which has attached to the polyglot
ideal, and rebuild the picture of the Hebraist. The polyglot ideal,
we may remind ourselves, by no means obtains in the Indo-
European field; no one supposes that to appreciate Greek literature
one must study all the Indo-European languages.
It would, on the other hand, be a hopelessly retrograde step if
one were to imagine that work within Hebrew might once again
proceed as if the pressure of comparative insights and methods
merely did not exist. This pressure is no new thing, but has been
acting upon biblical study for centuries; only lately, however, has
its presence begun to cause a kind of crisis in understanding. The
discussion of the comparative philological approach reveals many
new ways in which Hebrew requires to be studied, and makes it
impossible for us to contemplate a return to a traditionalist
Hebrew study, divorced from the framework of general linguistic
study (a framework even wider than that of Semitic comparative
philology).
We may now pass on to mention some particular practical tasks
in which our discussion may have some effect.
(1) Our discussion should have some effect on the work of
biblical translation, which is constantly going on. Sometimes the
production of philological suggestions has been connected with a
plea for the production of an absolutely accurate translation of the
Hebrew Bible. The approximative character of the information
1 In this respect philology, by going behind the tradition of meaning, has an
aspect similar to archaeology when the latter goes straight to the ancient sites
and cuts behind the literary historical traditions.
S U M M IN G -U P 299
99· ד י ו ‘dom inion’, U gar. drkt. Prov. 8. 22. A lbright, JfBL lxiii (1944)
219 n .; V T S iii (1955) 7·
100. · ד ר ךpersecute’, Ar. Lam . 3. 11 (1 ; ד ר כ יKareSico^ev). D river, Z A W
lii (1934) 308.
101. ‘ ד שןbe hidden, shrouded’, Ar. datara (but ‘ ד שןfat’ = Ar. dasam).
Ps. 22. 30; see text, p. 296 n. D river, H T R xxix (1936) 176 f.
102. ‘ ה ב אי םflowers’, Syr. habtd. Isa. 27. 6, not from ‘ בראcom e’. T u r-
Sinai, Jfoby p. 196 n.
103. ה ב ה ב,‘ ה בburn, b u rn w ith passion’, E th., A r., etc. Prov. 30. 1
Hos. 8. 13,4. 18. See text, pp. 233 f. G lück, V T xiv (1964) 367 fr.
Cf. nos. 12, 250.
104. ‘ ה ב רw orship’, S. Sem. kbr (spirantization). Isa. 47. 13; see text,
p. 119. Ullendorff, J fS S vii (1962) 339 f.
105. ‘ ה ד ר הdivine appearance’, U gar. hdrt || him. Ps. 29. 2. Cross, B A S O R
cxvii (1950) 21.
הרבsee no. 12.
106. ‘ הרהw o rd ’, U gar. hw ty Accad. aivdtum. Job 6. 30. Pope, Jfob, p. 55.
107. ‘ הי הfall’. I Sam. 1. 18 etc.; cf. הרא, Job 37. 6. See text, pp. 250 f.
D river, W O i. 414.
108. ‘ ה מהbehold’, Ugar. hm . Ps. 48. 6. Dahood, C B Q xvi (1954) 16.
326 IN D E X O F E X A M P L E S
109. ‘ ה רוןsexual desire*, U gar. hrr. G en. 3. 16; see text, p. 286. Rabin,
S crH viii (1961) 390.
n o . ‘ ה רןpledge’, Ar. rahana, cf. M H . Job 34. 32 (1 T p ) . See text,
p. 166. T u r-S in ai, Job, pp. 486 f.
i n . ‘ ה רstony tract*, Ar. harrat. Amos 1. 13. Reider, V T iv (1954) 279.
112. ז בו לA. ‘princely estate’, U gar. Ps. 49. 15 (Sofa). D river, C M L ,
p. 149.
113. ז בו לB. ‘throne-platform*, U gar. A lbright, Robinson F estsch r.,p . 16.
114. ( ז רV^T) ‘enem y’, Accad. Ezek. 7. 21; Prov. 6. 1 ixOpco, see text,
p p . 256 f. D river, Biblica xxxv (1954) 148 f.
115. ‘ ז מ רprotect*, Ar. damara. Exod. 15. 2; see text, pp. 29 f., 182.
W inton T hom as, E T xlviii (1936-7) 478; Record and Revela-
tion, pp. 395 f.
116. ‘ זנהbe angry’, Accad. zenu. Jud. 19. 2; see text, p. 286. D river,
E T L xxvi (1950) 348.
117. ‘ ח ב בpure ones’, Accad. ebebum ‘be pure*. D eut. 33. 3, cf. no. 41.
M iller, H T R lvii (1964) 241 if.
118. ח ב רa . ‘connect, inform*, Ar. habar (but ‘com panion’ = hbr).
Job 16. 4. R o sen th a l,Historiography, p. 10 n. 2. Cf. no. 119.
119. ח ב רB. ‘heap u p ’, U gar. bth b r ‘store-house*. Job 16. 4. T u r-S in ai,
Job, pp. 262 f. Cf. no. 118.
חגרsee no. 140.
120. ‘ ח ד לbe p lu m p ’, Ar. hadula. I Sam. 2. 5. W inton T hom as, V T S
iv ( 1957) 14 f·
121. pin ‘gather*, Accad. hiaqum ‘mingle*. Prov. 8. 29. D river, Biblica
xxxii (1951) 178.
122. ‘ חו שworry*, Accad. etc. Qoh. 2. 25. Ellerm aier, Z A W lxxv (1963)
197-217.
123. חזו ת,‘ חז הagreem ent’, ESA hdyt. Isa. 28. 15, 18; see text, p. 23
D river, J T S xxxviii (1937) 44. Also verb, cf. A r. h d \ Job 8. 17,
J T S xl (1939) 391*
124. ‘ חז ץmagistrate*, Accad. hazannu. Prov. 29. 18; see text, pp. 283 f.
D river, W O i. 235.
125. ח ט א תA. ‘step, walk’, Ar. hatwa. Job 14. 16; see text, pp. 142 n., 144.
E itan, pp. 38-42.
126. ח ט א תB. ‘p en ury’, E th. h a tia t. Prov. 10. 16. See text, pp. 144, 166.
W inton T hom as, J T S N.s. xv (1964) 295 f.
127. ח ל הA. ‘be sorry, think*, E th. halaya. I Sam. 22. 8 (7tovwv); Jer. 5. 3.
D river, J T S xxix (1928) 392, J Q R xxviii (1937-8) 101. Eitan,
H U G A xii-xiii (1937-8) 82 f.
128. ח ל הB. ‘be alone*, Ar. hala. Qoh. 5. 12 (‘a singular evil*). Eitan,
ibid., p. 62.
IN D E X O F E X A M P L E S 327
129. ח ל הC. ‘adorn’, Ar. hala. Prov. 3. 35 (M T 18 .14 ,(( מ ח ל וM T
) נ ח לו. D river, Biblica xxxii (1951) 177.
130. חי ל,‘ ח ל לbe troubled’. Ps. 55. 5, 109. 22, alternative forms, differen
sem antic fields, both L X X rapacraoj; cf. text, p. 252. K addary,
V T xiii (1963) 486-9.
131. ‘ ח ל םbe healthy’, A ram , him . Ps. 126. 1, so T g . Strugnell, J fT S
N.s. vii (1956) 2 3 9 4 3 · ־
132. ח ל קA. ‘create’, Ar. hlq. A m . 7. 4; see text, pp. 69, 26 0 f. M ont-
gomery, J B L xxiii (1904) 95 f . ; D river, V T S iii (1955) 91.
133· ח ל קB. ‘die, p erish ’, U gar. hlq. Ps. 5. 10, 12. 4. D ahood, Psalms,
PP· 35, 73·
134. חל ש ‘reap ’, Pal. Ar. halasa. Isa. 14. 12; see text, p. 276. Eitan,
pp. 42-6.
135. ‘ מ חנ הprotective siege-w ork’ (not ‘cam p’), cf. M H חנו ת. Ezek. 4. 2.
Driver, Biblica xxxv (1954) 148.
136. ‘ ח פ ץmake straight, stretch ’. Job 40.17, Ps. 37. 23. Perles, Analekten,
p. 76.
137· ‘ ח ק רdespise’, Ar. haqara. Prov. 28. 11 (Karayvdjaera6, bsr), 25. 27;
see text, p. 258. W inton T hom as, J fT S xxxviii (1937) 402 f.,
after Perles; E itan, p. 7 n.
138. ‘ ח ר בdeceitfulness, vain speech’, Ar. haraba (Dozy, i. 356). Ps. 59. 8;
Jer. 25. 9 (ovclS lgijlos). See text, p. 116. D river,y T S x x x iii (1932)
42 f.
139. ‘ ח ר ב הpalace’, E SA rnhrb ‘castle’, Ar. mihrab ‘pavilion’ (contrast root
hrb ‘ru in ’). Job 3.14 etc. D aiches, J Q R xx (1908) 637 ff.; D river,
E T L xxvi (1950) 349; b u t cf. Pope, Job, p. 31.
140. ‘ ) חג ר( ח רגfear’, A ram . ח רג ת א, Ps. 18. 46. B ut versions ‘lim p’, read
וי חג רו, as I I Sam. 22. 46 = A ram ., Syr. ‘lim p’. G unkel, Psalmen,
p. 73; D river, H T R xxix (1936) 174.
141. ‘ ח ר הbe angry’, Ar. wahar (so not from ‘b u m ’). Rabin, S c rH viii
(1961) 390 f.
142. ‘ ח ר םcut off’, Accad. haramu. Isa. 11. 15; see text, p. 119. D river,
J T S xxxii (1931) 251.
143. ‘ ח ת אsh atter’, U gar. h t \ H ab. 3. 6 -7 ; see text, p. 190. A lbright,
B A S O R lxxxii (1941) 47 n. 27; Robinson Festschr,, pp. 11 f., 15.
144. ‘ ט א ט אpo u n d (m ud floor); annihilate’, Ar. w a tia . Isa. 14. 23; see
text, p. 56. K opf, V T viii (1958) 174 f.
145. ‘ ט ב בknow, announce’, Syr., A r., E th. Prov. 15. 2; see text, pp. 171 f.
Driver, Biblica xxxii (1951) 181.
146. טו בA. ‘speech’. H os. 14. 3 etc.; see text, pp. 16 f. G ordis, V T v
(!955) 88-90.
328 IN D E X OF E X A M P L E S
147. טו בB. ‘very m u ch ״, T alm . A ram. M ic. 1. 12 etc. See text, p. 17.
G ordis, JfT S xxxv (1934) 186 f.
148. טו בC. ‘rain’. Ps. 4. 7 etc. D ahood, Psalms, p. 25.
149. ‘ יגעto rtu re’, Ar. waji a. I I Sam. 5. 8 (piel perf. cons.). G insberg,
Z A W li (!933) 308.
150. ‘ י ד הvoice’, Ar. dawiy w ith m etathesis, cf. no. 89. H ab. 3. 10.
G insberg, Z A W li (1933) 308.
151. י ד עA. ‘make subm issive’, Ar. wada a. Jud. 8. 16 etc.; see text,
pp. 19 if. W inton T hom as, JfT S xxxv (1934) 298-306, xxxviii
(1937) 404 f.
152. י ד עB. ‘care for, keep in m in d ’, Ar. wadi a. Exod. 2. 25; see text,
p. 22. W inton T hom as, J fT S xxxv (1934)300!., xlix (1948) 143 f.
153. י ד עC. ‘be reconciled’, Ar. wadi a I I I . Am. 3. 3; see text, pp. 19 if.
W inton T hom as, JfT S N.s. vii (1956) 69.
154. י ד עD . ‘dism iss’, Ar. wada a I II . I Sam. 21. 3; see text, pp. 21 f.
W inton T hom as, J fT S xxxv (1934) 298 if.; E itan, pp. 48 if.
155. י ד עE. ‘w rap u p ’, Ar. wada a. H os. 7. 9; see text, p. 22. H irschberg,
V T xi (1961) 379.
156. י ד עF. ‘sw eat’, dialect, cf. יז ע. Isa. 53. 11; see text, p. 23. N öldeke,
Neue Beiträge, p. 194 f . ; D ahood, in M ackenzie, p. 72.
157. ‘ מ ד עm essenger’, from ; י ד עU gar. m nd'. Qoh. 10. 20; see text, p. 23.
D ahood, Biblica xxxix (1958) 312.
158. ‘ י סו דtail-end, fundam ent, thigh’, Accad. isdu, same m eaning-range
b u t not cognate. H ab. 3. 13. A lbright, Robinson Festschr., p. 17.
159. ‘ י ס רmake strong’ (piel), Aramaism, A ram. א ש ר. Hos. 7. 15, Job 4. 3.
D river, J fT S xxxvi (1935) 295·
160. ‘ תו ע פ תim petuosity’, Ar. wgf. N um . 23. 22. A lbright, JfBL lxiii
(1944) 215.
161. או פי ר,‘ י פ רesteem ’, cf. Ar. wafara ‘abound’, U gar. ypr. Isa. 13.
see text, pp. 286 f. Eitan, H TJCA xii-xiii (1937-8) 61.
162. ‘ י צ אbe clean, p u re’, Ar. w adua. Prov. 25. 4 (KadapLcrdrjaerai). See
text, p. 120. D river, Biblica xxxii (1951) 190.
163. ‘ י צ דfasten’, Ar. wasada. Isa. 44. 12 (M T ) ל צ ך הו. Eitan, H U C A
xii-xiii (1938) 78.
164. ‘ י צ הgive last injunctions’, Ar. wasä I I ‘make a w ill’. II K ings 20. 1.
G ray, Kings, pp. 633 f.
165. י ק ה,‘ ת קו הgodly fear’, not ‘hope’; Ar. taqwä, root wqy. Job 17.
second ( ת קו הVg. patientia). G uillaum e, H ooke Festschr., p. 113.
166. ‘ י ק הbe insolent’, Ar. waqiha. N um . 16. 1, Job 15. 12, Prov. 6. 25;
see text, pp. 17 if., 271. Eitan, pp. 20 if.; D river, W O i. 235, 415.
167. י ק רA. ‘be heavy, still; rest’, Ar. waqara. Prov. 25. 17. W inton
T hom as, JfT S xxxviii (1937) 402.
IN D E X O F E X A M P L E S 329
168. י ק לB. ‘split, hew ’, Ar. waqara. I K ings 5. 31. Gray, Kings, p. 148.
י רי בsee no. 293.
169. ת ר ע ת,‘ י ר עm ajesty’, lit. ‘terror-producin g ’, Ar. wari'a ‘be tim
ESA hwr ‘cause to fear’. N um . 23. 21 (1 ; ו ת ר ע תeVSo£a).
A lbright, J B L lxiii (1944) 215.
170. ‘ י שחsemen virile’, Ar. wasiha ‘be filthy’. Mic. 6. 14. Pope, J B L
lxxxiii (1964) 270, after Ehrlich, v. 288.
171. ‘ כ ב תbehum bled’, A r.kabata. Jer. 17. 13 (M T ) בו ש || ;י כ ת בו. Driver,
jfQ R xxviii ( 1937114 (8· ־
172. ‘ כ ד םhold fast’, Ar. kadama (?— see text, p. 166). Ezek. 27. 32.
Guillaum e, J T S N.s. xiii (1962) 324 f.
173· ‘ ם י וןvagina’, Ar. kain. Am. 5. 26, see text, p. 277. H irschberg, V T xi
(1961) 37s f.
!74· ‘ כ כ רgorge’, Yem enite kurkur. Rabin, W est-Arabian, p. 28. See text,
p. 100.
175. ‘ כ ל בh u n te r’, as Syr. kallaba. Seen from transls. of Ps. 22. 17 (Aq.
Sym. Orjparaiy L at. venatores). D river, H T R xxix (1936) 176.
176. ‘ כ ל םspeak’, Ar. kallama. Judges 18. 7; M ic. 2. 6; see text, pp. 14 f.
Reider, V T iv (1954) 280.
177. ‘ כ ס ףbe broken, depressed’, Accad. kasapu etc. Zeph. 2. 1. Driver,
A nO r xii (1935) 62 f . ; J T S xxxvi (1935) 404; V T iv (1954) 242;
cf. no. 178.
178. ‘ כ ס ףfood’. Isa. 55. 1; see text, p. 153. References as for no. 177.
179. ‘ כ פיequal, like’, Ar. k ifa . Job 33. 6. T ur-S inai, Job, p. 465.
180. ‘ כ ר הfeast’, loan from Accad. karu. II K ings 6. 23; see text, p. 102.
Rabin, S c rH viii (1961) 399. Cf. no. 288.
181. ‘ פו ש רו תsong, m usic’, U gar. k tr t. Ps. 68. 7. G insberg, B A S O R lxxii
(1938) 13.
182. ‘ כ ת ףw eapon’, U gar. ktp. I Sam. 17. 6, D eut. 33. 12. O ’Callaghan,
Orientalia xxi (1952) 42 f., cites b u t does not accept for H eb r.;
D river, CML> p. 145.
183. ‘ ל אvictor’, Accad. le u ‘overcom e’. Ps. 7. 13 (M T ) ל א. D ahood,
Psalms, pp. 46, xxxvi.
184. ‘ מ ל א ךpriest, priestly m essenger’, cf. Phoen. parallel passages. Qoh.
5. 5, M ai. 2. 7 (|| ])? כ ה. D ahood, Biblica xxxiii (1952) 207.
185. ‘ ל א םru ler’, U gar., Accad. limu. Ps. 7. 8, 148. 11; see text, pp. 133,
172, 254 f. D river, C M L , p. 158; E T L xxvi (1950) 346; Gray,
Legacy, p. 197.
186. ‘ ל ב הw rath ’, Accad., A ram . Ezek. 16. 30. D river, J T S xxxii (1931)
T ’ 366.
187. ‘ ל ב דstick together’, T alm . H ebr. Job 38. 30; see text, p. 234. T u r ״
Sinai, Job, pp. 530 f. O r ‘be m atted, felted’, as of cloth?
330 IN D E X OF E X A M P L E S
188. ל ב שA. ‘linger’, Ar. labita. Isa. 14.19. Eitan, H U C A xn -xin (1 9 3 & ) 63.
189. # ל בB. ‘draw near’, Ar. labisa ‘join closely\ Judges 6. 34 etc. Reider,
y j S iii (1952) 79·
190. ‘ לגwaves’, Ar. lujj ‘depth of sea’. Job 12. 23 (M T ) ל ג ר ם. T u r-S in ai,
yob, p. 219.
191. ל ה ק הA. ‘elder-com pany’, E th. Ihq. I Sam. 19. 20, see text, pp. 25 f.,
231 f., 267 n ., 270 f. D river, y T S xxix (1928) 394; Ullendorff,
V T vi (1956) 194; W inton T hom as, y T S xlii (1941) 154 (Prov.
30· 17)·
192. ל ה ק הB. ‘com pany’, Ar. 5ilhäq ‘affiliation’, w ith criticism of no. 191.
Greenfield, H U C A xxix (1958) 212 if.
193. ‘ ל מ ךי םstrings’, M H (?). Isa. 8. 16. T ur-S in ai, yob, p. 240.
194. ‘ מ קpow erful’, Ar. mäjin ‘bold’. Ps. 47. 10; see text, pp. 241, 251.
D river, y T S xxxiii (1932) 44. Cf. A lbright, V T S iii (195s) 10
(‘beggar’).
195· ‘ מ ד רw et clay’, E th. mddr ‘earth’. Job 37. 17 (M T ;) מ ד ר ו םsee text,
p. 190. T u r-S inai, yob, p. 515.
196. ‘ מ הי לskilled’, E th. mähärä ‘teach’. Ps. 45. 2, Isa. 16. 5. See text,
p. 295. Ullendorff, V T vi (1956) 195.
197. ‘ מ ח ץd ip ’, Accad. mahäsu. Ps. 68. 24; see text, p. 192. D elitzsch,
Proleg., pp. 69 if. Cf. no. 205.
198. ‘ מ טוwar, cam paign’, ESA m tw . H ab. 3. 9, 14. A lbright, Robinson
Festschr., p. 15.
199. מ ו ד ד,‘ מי דbe shaken’, Ar. mäda. H ab. 3. 6 (60־aXevdr]); see tex
p. 252. D river, Z A W Iii (1934) 54 f.
200. ‘ מ כ רcounsel’, E th. G en. 49. 5; see text, pp. 57, 270. W inton
T hom as, y T S x x x v ii (1936) 388 f.; Ullendorff, V T vi (1956) 194.
201. ‘ מ ל חbe dark’, Ar. maltha ‘be grey’. Isa. 51. 6; see text, p. 252.
D river, E T L xxvi (1950) 349 f.
202. מ ל ךA .‘advise’, A ram . Hos. 8 .4 ; see text, pp. 188 f. D river, N ötscher
Festschr., p. 50. Cf. no. 306.
203. מ ל ךB . ‘take possession’, Ar. N eh. 5. 7; see text, p. 188. K opf, V T
ix (1959) 261 f.
204. ‘ מ ע הm u ltitu d e’, Ar. m a iy y a ‘com pany’. Isa. 48. 19. G ray, Legacy,
p. 192.
205. ‘ מ צ חtread ’, U gar. msh. Ps. 68. 24 (1 ; ת מ צ חM T ת מ ח ץis graphic
error caused by י מ ח ץin v. 22). Reider, H U C A xxiv (1952-3)
101. Cf. no. 197.
206. מ שחA. ‘m easure, extend’, M H . Ezek. 28. 14. D river, y T S xli
(1940) 169 f.
207. מ שחB. ‘m ar’, Ar. masahat masth *ugly’. Isa. 52.14 Q um ran; see text,
p. 285. G uillaum e, y B L lxxvi (1957) 41 f.
IN D E X O F E X A M P L E S 331
208. ‘ מ תןstren g th ’, M H and Ar. matuna. Qoh. 7. 7. (M T מ תנ ה, εύτονίa,
robur); see text, p. 91 n. D river, V T iv (1954) 229 f.
209. ‘ מ לblow ’, A ram. Job 10. 17. T ur-S inai, Job, pp. 181 f.
210. ‘ נ דfire’, E th. nadda. Isa. 17. 11. Eitan, H U C A xii-xiii (1938) 65.
Cf. no. 212.
211. ‘ נ ח לsift’, Ar. nahala, Accad., Syr. Ps. 82. 8. D river, H T R xxix
(1936) 187.
212. ‘ נ ח ל הdestruction’, E th. nahla ‘collapse’. Isa. 17.11. Eitan, cf. no. 210.
213. ‘ נטו שclash (in battle)’, Ar. watasa, watts. Prov. 17. 14 (μάχη),
I Sam. 4. 2; see text, p. 257. D river, Biblica xxxii (1951) 182.
214. ‘ נ כ רacquire, sell’, U gar. nkr. I Sam. 23. 7 (πεπρακεν); see text,
p. 267 n. Hos. 3. 2. G ray, Legacy, p. 190.
215. ‘ נ מ הbring tidings’, Ar. nam a. Isa. 41. 27; see text, pp. 182, 193.
Guillaume, J B L lxxvi (1957) 40 f.
216. ‘ גסגforge’, Ar. nasaja. M ic. 2. 6; see text, p. 15. Reider, V T iv (1954)
280.
217. ‘ נ ע לsparrow ’, Ar. nugar. Job 40. 29. W inton T hom as, V T xiv (1964)
1 1 4 ff.; cf. G ordis, ibid., 491-4.
218. ‘ נצהbe joined’, Ar. nasa. Lam. 4. 15 (άνήφθησαν) ; see text, pp. 262 f.
D river, Z A W lii (1934) 308; W inton T hom as, Record and
Revelation, p. 396.
219. ‘ גשאu tter, pronounce’, Accad. nasu ‘take oath ’. Isa. 42. 2, 11, and
מ ש א. T sevat, H U C A xxix (1958) 119.
220. נשר,‘ גשרherald’, Ar. nassar. H os. 8. 1, Job 39. 25; see text, pp. 26 f
T u r-S in ai, Job, p. 551.
221. ‘ נ ת רtear; hop, leap’. Accad. nutturu. H ab. 3.6 etc. D river, Robinson
Festschr., pp. 70 if., V T iv (1954) 241; and full discussion in
E m erton, Z A W lxxvi (1964) 191 if. See text, p. 290.
222. ‘ ס ד רrays of lig ht’, Ar. sadira. Job 10. 22 (φέγγος); see text, p. 242.
Driver, V T S iii (1955) 76 f.
223. ‘ סו דchieftaincy’, Ar. sud. Ps. 25. 14; see text, p. 251. D river, J B L
lv (1936) 102, E T L xxvi ( 1 9 5 0 ) 345·
224. ‘ ס כו תpole’ (cultic symbol), T alm . ס כ ת א. Am. 5. 26; see text, p. 277.
H irschberg, V T xi (1961) 375.
225· p o ‘care for’, not Accad. saknu ‘governor’ b u t rel. Ar. zakina ‘be
fam iliar’, M H ‘ ס כנ הdanger’. I K ings 1. 4, Qoh. 10. 9. Rabin,
S c rH viii (1961) 395.
226. ‘ ס פ סגglaze’, U gar., H ittite. Prov. 26. 23 (M T ;) כ ס ף סיגיםsee text,
pp. 219 f. G insberg, B A S O R xcviii (1945) 21.
227. ‘ מ ס פ רlim it, boundary’, A r., A ram . ק פ ר. D eut. 32. 8 (|| ) ג ב ל ת.
Zim m erm ann, J Q R N.s. xxix (1938-9) 241 f.
332 IN D E X OF E X A M PL ES
228. ‘ צ דtim e’. Kaipos at Jer. 11. 14, Isa. 30. 8, 64. 8, Ezek. 22. 4, 30; see
text, p. 247. D river, W O i. 412; C M L, p. 140.
229. ע ד הA. ‘hostility’, Ar. 'dw. Job 10. 17 (M T ) ע ך י ף. Pope, Job, p. 79,
following Ehrlich.
230. ע ד הB. ‘p rim e’, Ar. gdw ‘m orning, early’. Ps. 103. 5 (|| ) נ עו רי כי.
D river, J T S xxxvi (1935) 155.
231. ‘ ערדgo ro u n d ’, E th. 'odd. Job 25. 5 (point ) ע ד. D river, A jfS L lii
( 1935161 (6 ־.
232. עז בA. ‘help’, Eth. 'dzzdbd. Jer. 49. 25; see text, p. 140. D river, J Q R
xxviii (1937-8) 126.
233. עז בB. ‘be agreeable’, A r .faduba. Job 9. 27; see text, p. 141. D river,
V T S iii (1955) 76.
234. ‘ עזיpatience’, Ar. caza (razw). Ex. 15. 2; see text, pp. 29 f. Rabin,
S crH viii (1961) 387. O r ‘w arrior’, Ar. g azi\ G aster and W inton
T hom as, E T xlviii (1936-7) 45, 478; xlix (1937-8) 189.
235. עז רA. ‘be valiant’, U gar. gzr. I Chr. 12. 1; see text, pp. 139 f. D river,
C M L , p. 142.
236. עז רB. ‘ju stify ’, Ar. 'adara ‘excuse’. Isa. 50. 7, 9 (\\ ;) מ צ די קיsee text,
pp. 139 f. Eitan, H U C A xii-xiii (1938) 81.
237. עז רC. ‘h in d er’, Ar. 'azara ‘rebuke’. Job 30. 13; see text, p. 139״
D river, A J S L lii (1935-6) 163.
238. עז רD . ‘be copious’, Ar. gazura. Zech. 1. 15; see text, p. 140. Eitan,
p. 8.
239. ‘ ע ט הgive’, Ar. ,apt. Ps. 84. ( ךSwaei); see text, p. 249. Rabin, West-
Arabian, p. 40, n. 5 and p. 32.
240. ‘ עי טden ’, Ar. gayit. Jer. 12. 9; see text, pp. 128 f., 153, 235. D river,
P E Q , A pr. 1955, 139. Cf. no. 266.
241. ע ץ,‘ עיןcom pany, group’. Hos. 10. 10; see text, p. 226. W ernberg-
M oller, p. 59; D river, Judaean Scrollsf p. 435.
242. עי רA. ‘revile’, E th. ta'ayyara. Job 3. 8; see text, p. 125. D river,
V T S iii (1955) 72.
243. עי רB. ‘invasion’, Ar. gara. Jer. 15. 8; see text, p. 125. D river, J Q R
xxviii (1937-8) 113.
244. עי רC. ‘fire’, Ar. wagara ‘be h o t’. Hos. 7. 4; see text, p. 126. W utz,
p. 312. Cf. N yberg, Hosea, p. 52.
245. עי רD . ‘inm ost recesses’, U g ar.g r. II Kings 10. 25; see text, p. 126.
Gray, Kings, p. 507.
246. ( עי ר ) ע רי םE. ‘protectors, gods’, U gar. gyr. M ic. 5. 13 etc.; see text,
pp. 126, 153 n. D ahood, Psalms, pp. 55 f. Cf. no. 253.
247. עי רF. ‘bore’, Ar. gara ‘sink deep’, gawr ‘d ep th ’. Isa. 50. 4; see text,
p. 126. D river, J T S xli (1940) 164.
I ND EX OF EXAMPLES 333
248. ‘ ע ל הburn, boil’, Ar. gala (galy ). Ezek. 38. 18. D river, Biblica xxxv
(1954) 3°4* D ahood, Psalms, p. 74, com pares ‘ ע ל הb u rn t
offering’ (Hom mel).
249. ‘ ע ל הco-wife’, Ar. ealla. G en. 49. 4 (M T ) ע ל ה. Reider, V T iv (1954)
276.
250. ‘ ע לו ק הerotic passion’, Ar. 'aliqa ‘hang’, b u t also ‘burn, love physi-
cally, conceive’ (?). Prov. 30. 15. G luck, V T xiv (1964) 367 ff.
Cf. nos. 12 and 103.
251. ‘ ענ הstay in a place’, Ar. ganiya. M ai. 2. 12, Isa. 13. 22; see text,
pp. 165, 243, 250. Eitan, H U C A xii-xiii (1937-8) 62.
252. ‘ ע צ לbe fertile, am ple’, A r. gadira, U gar. gsr. Judges 18. 7, Prov. 30.
16. D ahood in M ackenzie, p. 73.
253. ‘ ע ל הblood-daubed stone’, U g ar.g r, A r .gariy. Jer. 2. 28, M ic. 5. 13.
D river, CM Ly p. 142. Cf. no. 246.
254. ע ש הA. ‘tu rn away’, U gar. 'sy, Ar. Job 23. 9, 1 Sam. 14. 32; see text,
pp. 67, 69, 98, 246 f. D river, Robinson Festschr., pp. 53-5.
255. ע ש הB. ‘come to ’, Ar. gasa (w). Isa. 5. 4; Prov. 6. 32. K opf, V T ix
(1959) 270; D river, Robinson Festschr., pp. 53 ff.
256. ע שהC. ‘p ro tect’, Ar. gasiya ‘cover’. Ezek. 17. 17. D river, Biblica
xxxv ( 1954) 153· Cf. ‘ מ ע ש הcloud’, Ps. 104. 13; Reider, V T iv
(1954) 284.· Cf. Isa. 59. 6; Eitan, H U C A xii-xiii (1938) 83.
257. ‘ מ ע ש רlibation’ (not ‘tith e’), U gar. 'sr. Am. 4. 4. Cazelles, V T i (1951)
131- 4·
258. ע שA. ‘rot, p u s’, Ar. gatta (cf. 'utt ‘m o th ’). Hos. 5. 12 (6νρώς); see
text, pp. 144, 243 f., 252 n., 279. D river, Robinson Festschr.,
pp. 66 f.
259. ע שB. ‘b ird ’s nest’, Ar. euss. Job 27. 18; see text, pp. 144, 244. As
no. 258.
260. ‘ פand ’, A r .fa-. Ps. 48. 14, read as ס תו+ ; פD ahood, CBQ xvi (1954)
17. Job 33. 24; G uillaum e, H ooke Festschr., p. 121. D ahood,
Proverbs, p. 53.
261. ‘ פ חזscattered’ (nomadic life), Ar. fahd. G en. 49. 4. Rabin, ScrH
viii (1961) 398.
262. ‘ פ ס חpassover’, Eg. p ’ §h ‘the blow ’. See text, p. 103. Couroyer, RB
lxii (1955) 481-96.
263. ‘ פ ר הcome o u t’, Eg. pry. Isa. 11. 1 (|| )י צ א. Eitan, H U CA xii-xiii
(1937-8) 59.
264. ‘ פ ר חbe cheerful’, A r .fariha. Isa. 66. 14 (\\ 1 .35 ,(שש. Eitan, H U CA
xii-xiii (1937-8) 87 f.
265. ‘ צ א לbough’, Eg. d*rt9 Copt. cal. Job 40. 21 f . ; see text, p. 105.
H u m b ert, Z A W lxii (1950) 206.
334 IN D E X OF E X A M P L E S
266. ‘ צ בו עhyena*, A r.d a b u '. Jer. 12. 9 (ύαίνης); see text, pp. 128, 235.
D river, P E Q , A pr. 1955, p. 139. Cf. no. 240.
267. ‘ צו רm id st’, Accad. surru ‘h eart’. Ezek. 21. 25 (eV μεσω αυτής).
D river, J T S xli (1940) 169. Cf. Jer. 49. 13 (L X X 30. 7).
268. ‘ צ חsun ’. Ar. dihh, E th. dahay. Isa. 18. 4. Eitan, H U C A xii-xiii
(1937-8) 65 f. Cf. no. 23.
269. ‘ צי ץsalt’, Accad., U gar. gloss si-su-ma. Jer. 48. 9. M oran, Biblica
xxxix (1958) 69 ff.
270. ‘ צ ל צ לb oat’, Aram. צ ל צ ל א. Isa. 18. I (II ;) כ ל י ג מ אJob 40. 31 {θ'
ττλοίοις). D river, Robinson Festschr., p. 56.
271. ‘ צ פ הarrange’, Ar. saffa. Isa. 21. 5. Eitan, H U C A xii-xiii (1937-8)
67. Cf. no. 272.
272. ‘ צ פי תguest’, Ar. dayf. Isa. 21 .5 , cf. no. 271. Eitan, as no. 271.
273. צ פוןA. ‘island’, cf. ‘ צו ףfloat’, U gar. L and floats over void. Job 26. 7.
T u r-S in ai, Job, pp. 380 f.
274. צ פ ץB. ‘hiding-place’. Job 37. 22. T ur-S inai, Job, p. 517.
275. ‘ צ ר הshrill cry’, Ar. sarra, sartr. Jer. 4. 31 (|| ; ק ו לστεναγμός), 48. 5
(L X X 31. 5); see text, pp. 279 f. D river, J B L lv (1936) 105, J Q R
xxviii (1937-8) 123.
276. ‘ ק בו ץfixing; statue’, Syr. qbaa. Isa. 57. 13; see text, p. 122. D river,
J T S xxxvi (1935) 294.
277. ‘ ק ה לforget’, Ar. jahila ‘be ignorant’, A m arna qalu ‘w ithdraw ,
neglect’. Job 11. 10; see text, p. 162. T ur-S in ai, Job, p. 194.
278. קי,‘ קוin fan t’ (‘ קי אvom it’). Job 22. 20 (1 ) קי מנו, cf. Isa. 28. 10. T u r-
Sinai, Job, p. 345·
279. מ קו םA. ‘opposition’, Ar. maqama ‘com bat’. N ah. 1. 8. D river, J T S
xxxvi (1935) 300 f·
280. מ קו םB. ‘grave’, Phoen. mqm. Qoh. 8. 10; see text, p. 292. D ahood,
Biblica xliii (1962) 360.
281. ‘ קו רdig’, Ar. qara ‘cut a round hole’. Prov. 12. 27; see text, pp. 28 f.
Eitan, pp. 25 if.
282. ‘ ק טןhousehold’, Ar. qatana ‘reside’. Isa. 22. 24. Eitan, H U C A
xii-xiii (1938) 68 f.
283. ‘ ק ל עu p ro o t’, Ar. qala'a. Jer. 10. 18; see text, p. 108. D river, J Q R
xxviii (1937-8) 107.
284. ‘ קןstrength’, Eg. qny ‘strong’, qnt ‘strength’. Job 29. 18. D river,
V T S iii (1955) 85.
285. ‘ קנ הshoulder-joint’, U gar. qn. Job 31. 22. D river, C M L , p. 144.
286. ‘ ק צ ףbe sad, vexed’, Syr. qsap. II Kings 3. 27; see text, p. 122.
D river, J T S xxxvi (1935) 293.
IN D E X O F E X A M PL E S 335
287. ‘ ק ר אfollow*, Ar. qara (<qrw). Isa. 41. 25 (|| ) א ת ה. Eitan, H U C A x ii-
xiii (1938) 77·
288. ‘ ק ל הhold feast, invite to feast*, U gar. qry. Exod. 3. 18; see text,
pp. 102 f. Cf. no. 180.
289. ‘ ר א הdrink* ( = ) רו ה. Prov. 23. 31 etc.; see text, pp. 257 f. D river,
Biblica xxxii (1951) 187.
290. ר בA. ‘showers*, U gar. rb, rbb. Job 36. 28. D river, C M L, p. 155.
291. ר בB. ‘arrow* (‘ ר ב הshoot’). Am. 7. 4 (1 ) ל ר נ ב י אעז. Cf. Job 16. 13
ך ב י ו, Xoyxaig. D river, J T S xli (1940) 171 f.
292. ר בC. ‘weak, afraid*, Ar. rwb. Job 4. 3; see text, pp. 134L T u r-S in ai,
Job, pp. 76 f.
293. ‘ י רי בgreat*, S y r.yaributd ‘size*. Hos. 5. 13; see text, p. 123. D river,
J T S xxxvi (1935) 295.
294. ‘ ר ב עdust*, Accad. turbuu ‘dust spiral*. N um . 23. 10; see text,
pp. 11 n ., 270. G insberg, Z A W li (1933) 309.
295. ‘ ת ר ב ע תdust cloud’, Accad. As no. 294. A lbright, J B L lxiii (1944)
213.
296. ‘ רזי לwickedness*, Ax. radii ‘base*. Isa. 24.16. Rabin, S crH v iii (1961)
386.
297. ‘ רי בtrembling*, Accad. rlbu. Job 33. 19. D horm e, Job, p. 454.
298. ‘ ר כ בg ather’, cf. M H ‘graft, join, connect*. P s .68.5, cf. vecfreXrjyepera.
Ullendorff, V T vi (1956) 194 f.
299. ‘ ת ך מ הtreachery’, Accad. turmum. Judges 9. 31; see text, p. 216.
D ossin, O B L y i (1957) 163-7, b u t cf. Gevirtz, J N E S xvii (1958)
59 f- (7 ) ת ר ם.
300. ‘ ר מ סrebuild, repair*, U gar. trmm. Ezr. 9. 9, Prov. 11. 11. D river,
CMLy p. 153.
301. ‘ ר ע בbe bew itched, fear’, Ar. raaba (cf. ‘ ר ע בhu n g er’ = Ar. ragiba
‘desire’). Job 18. 12. D river, Z A W lxv (1958) 260.
302. ‘ ר ע הth o u g h t’, Syr. r a. Isa. 44. 28; see text, pp. 281 f. D river, J T S
xxxvi (1935) 82.
303. ‘ ר שעrich ’, Ar. rassaga, rasig (Lane, p. 1080 c). Job 24. 6; see text,
p. 145. Guillaum e, H ooke Festschr., p. 116.
304. ‘ שאהwish*, Ar. sa a . G en. 4. 7 (M T ) ש א ת. Rabin, S c rH viii (1961)
399·
305. ‘ מ שהplace for sheep’, analogy of Ar. mas ada ‘place to expect lions’
etc. Exod. 12. 4. Rabin, S c rH viii (1961) 394.
306. ה שי ר,‘ שורobtain advice*, Ar. swry ’aSara. Hos. 8 .4 ; see text, pp. 16
188 f. Source as no. 202.
307. ‘ שח הwash, flood’ (not ‘sw im ’), Syr. Ps. 6. 7. D river, J T S xxxvi
(1935) 147· Am. 4. 13 (1 ‘ ) ו » י ר ל א ך ?ן ה מי שחוpours on the
earth the flood w aters’, T ur-S inai, Lashonf ii. 403 f.
336 IN D E X O F E X A M PL E S
308. ‘ ש כ לform , beauty’, Ar. Sakl. I Sam. 25. 3; see text, pp. 244 f. Perles,
jfQ R N.s. xvii (1926-7) 233.
309. ‘ שפ קabound’, M H . Isa. 2. 6 (|| ;) מ ל אsee text, pp. 232 f. W inton
T hom as, Z A W lxxv (1963) 88 if.
310. ‘ ש פ תdecree, ordain’, denom . from ‘ ש פ הlip ’. Ps. 22. 16, Isa. 26. 12;
see text, p. 85. Beeston, V T viii (1958) 216 f . ; cf. U llendorff,
V T vi (1956) 196 f.
311. ‘ ש ב םm uzzle’, Ar. sabama, U gar. sbm. Ps. 68. 23 (1 ב ם מ צו ל ת ים$ ) א.
D ahood, J B L lxxx (1961) 270 f . ; M iller, H T R Ivii (1964) 240.
312. ש ב רA. ‘attend to ’, Ar. tabara ‘apply oneself w ith zeal’. N eh. 2. 13,
15 (συντριβών). M T ש ב ר. D river, J T S xxxv (1934) 382 f.
313. ש ב רB. ‘m easure by the span’, Ar. sabara. Job 38. 10. G uillaum e,
Hooke Festschr., p. 123.
314. ‘ ש ד דexpel’, E th. sadada. Prov. 19. 26. W inton T hom as, V T S iii
(1955) 289.
315. שדי, ‘ ש ד הpour out, dow npour’, A ram . Ezek. 1. 24, II Sam. 1. 21
see text, p. 235. G ordis, J T S xli (1940) 34 if.; D river, ibid.,
168, and V T iv (1954) 239 f.
316. * שיבrun ab o u t’, Ar. saba(y); cf. ‘ עזובre tu rn ’ = taba (w). Jer. 8. 6;
see text, pp. 242 f. D river, J Q R xxviii (1937-8) 105.
317. ‘ שילgovernor, prince’. G en. 49. 10; see text, pp. 120 f. M oran,
Biblica xxxix (1958) 405-25, has full discussion.
318. ‘ שילtravel’, Syr. syartd ‘caravan’, Ar. sara. Ps. 138. 5; Ezek. 27. 25.
D river, J T S xxxv (1934) 388.
319. ש כ בfp o u r’, Ar. sakaba. Job 38. 37; see text, p. 137. Orlinsky, J B L
lxiii (1944) 1 9 4 4 · ־
320. ש כ חA. ‘be paralysed’, Ar. kasiha by m etathesis. Ps. 137. 5; see
text, pp. 48, 152. Eitan, J B L xlvii (1928) 193 if.
321. ש כ חB . ‘droop, w ilt’, U g a r .iM .P s . 137. 5; cf.no. 320. D river, C M L y
p. 151; b u t cf. Pope, J S S xi (1966) 240.
322. ‘ ש כ תship’, U gar. tk ty Eg. skti. Isa. 2. 16; see text, pp. 280 f. D river,
Robinson Festschr., pp. 52 f,
323. ‘ שלגsoapw ort’, M H א ש לג. Job 9. 30; see text, p. n o . Pope, Job,
p. 72.
324. ‘ ש מחbe kind, clem ent’, Ar. samuha. H os. 7. 3. N yberg, Hosea, p. 46.
325. ש מ רA. ‘cultivate’. Hos. 4. 10 f.
326. שמרB. ‘rage’, Accad. samaru. Am. 1. 11.
327. ש מ לC. ‘cast out, reject’, Syr. smr, Ps. 37. 28.
F or 325-7 see text, pp. 119 f., 141 f. D river, J T S xxxv (1934)
384 if. F or 327, also T ur-S in ai, Job, p. 240.
IN D E X O F E X A M P L E S 337
328. ‘ שבהbe em inent, of high rank’, Ar. sny, sana. Prov. 24. 21 etc.
Eitan, pp. 10 f . ; W inton T hom as, Z A W lii (1934) 236 fF., V T S
iii ( 1955) 286.
329. ‘ מ שנהequivalent’, Accad. mistannu (not ‘twice as m u ch ’). D eut. 15.
18; Jer. 16. 18. Tsevat, H U C A xxix (1958) 125 f.
330. ‘ ש ע הbetake oneself’, Ar. s a d ‘move quickly’. I Sam. 14. 32 (M T
;))וי ע שsee text, p. 98. Reider, H U C A xxiv (1952-3) 85.
331. ‘ שר שbe angry’, Ar. sarisa ‘be vicious’. Job 5. 3. T u r-S in ai, Joby
p. 94.
332. ‘ ש ת עfear’, Phoen., U gar. t t \ Isa. 41. 10; see text, pp. 180, 233 n.,
294 f. Greenfield, H U C A xxix (1958) 226-8.
333· ^ 0% >יE th. tatahala ‘w ander’, D illm ann, col. 552. Job 4. 18.
Pope, Job, p. 37.
334. ‘ תוהw ander in m in d ’, Ar. taha. Isa. 44. 9, read as verb. Eitan,
H U C A xii-xiii (1938) 78.
״ ןsee no. 45.
INDEX OF BIBLICAL PASSAGES
Ordering and numbering are as in the Hebrew text. Arabic figures refer to
pages of the te x t; italic figures to numbers of the Index of Examples.
Genesis Numbers
I. I 59 5· 13 137
i. 8 45 14· 37 16
1« 26 40 16. 1 17 f., 271, 166
3· 16 286, 109 21. 14 46
3· 20 47 21. 15 235
4-6 251 23. 10 11 n., 270, 294
4· 7 304 23. 21 169
4· 15 211 23. 22 160
5· 29 47 24. 17 53
6· 3 88 34· 7 20
10. 13 204
13· 12 *3 Deuteronomy
13· 18 13 1· 13, 15 20
22. 7 f. 57 11. 14 249
22. 13 26 II . 30 SB
25· 3 254 f· 15. 18 3 2 9
2. 5 1 2 0 21. 12 137 n .
2. 10 283 24· 15 2 2
2. 33 6
3· i i 137 n. a ia h
4. 2 257, 2 1 3 i. 17 4 2
4· 15 3 0 I. 22 2 1 9
23. 7 2 .6 7 , 2 1 4 12. 2 30
24. I 175 ! 3 .8 2 0 4
22 191 16. 5 2 9 5 , J 9 6
22. 46 1 4 0 18. I 2 7 0
18. 4 2 3 , 2 6 3
I Kings 2 1 . 5 27X , 2 7 2
I. 4 2 2 5 2 2 . 2 4 2 8 2
5· 31 1 6 8 2 4 . 16 2 9 6
I I . 16 213 26. 12 3 1 0
20. 14 32 27. 6 1 0 2
20. 40 246 27 . 10 2 5 0
22. 53 71 n. 28. 7 5*
28. 10 273
II Kings 28. 15, 18 2 3 0 , X 23
3· 27 122, ^36 2 8 . 2 0 20
4· 34 162, 7 2 30. 8 2 4 7 , 223
4· 42 26, 6x 32. 6 153
6. 23 102, x3o 32. 19 6 4
9· 13 79 33· 7 37
10. 25 126, 245 34· i 2 5 4 f.
II. I 8 4 35· i 2 6 4
340 IN D E X OF B IB L IC A L P A S S A G E S
Isaiah (cont.): 64. 8 247, 2 2 8
37· 25 28
38. 10 259, 9 4 Jeremiah
38. 17 55 I. II 49
39· 2 17 2. 28 153 n., 253
40. 1-3 52 f. 2. 31 266, 35
41. I 254 f· 3· 17 264
41. 10 233 n., 294 f·, 332 4· 31 279 f-> 2 75
41· 25 2 8 7 5· 3 1 2 7
60. 4 23 16. 31 62
60. 13 211 17· 17 2 5 6
Hosea Nahum
2. 17 264 i. 5 252
3· 2 2 1 4 i. 8 279
3· 5 17 I. 10 33
4. 4 74
4. 10 f. 1 4 1 , 3 25 Habakkuk
4. 18 J 2, JOJ 2. 16 252
5· 12 243 252 n., 279, 25S 3· 5 212 n.
5· 13 123, 2 9 3 3· 6 252, J 99, 22J
6. 3 24 3· 6 f. 8, 190, J43
7· 3 524 3· 9 1 9 8
7· 4 2 4 4 3. 10 1 5 0
7· 5 283 3· 13 158
7 .6 35 3· 14 1 9 8
71 n.
Ui
5· 4 153
Amos 5· 10 · rjj
i. 13 III 6. 7 on
on'-׳
2. 13 53 7 .8
3· 3 153 7· 9
342 IN D E X O F B IB L IC A L P A S S A G E S
17- 1 5 1 6 5 38. 36 57
1 8 . 3 6 9 n. 38. 37 1 37 , 319
1 8 . 1 2 3 0 1 39- 25 27 f., 8 9 , 2 2 0
1 9 . 1 8 83 40. 17 7 1, 1 3 6
1 9 . 2 6 6 9 n . , 6 8 40 . 21 f. 105, 2 65
2 0 . 3 2 8 0 n . 40 . 23 9 1, 5 2
2 0 . 1 8 6 9 n . 40 . 29 2 1 1
2 0 . 2 0 2 1 40. 31 2 10
2 0 . 2 2 2 3 2 41. 9 2 3 4 , 1 5 6
2 0 . 2 4 6 6
4 1. 14 80
2 1 . 2 4 6 9 n . 41. 18 6 9 n .
2 1 . 2 7 6 9 n.
2 2 . 2 0 2 1 8 Proverbs
2 2 . 2 8 f. 2 9 3- 2 7 100
2 2 . 3 0 147 3 - 35 129
23- 9 254 5- 3 2 57
2 4 . 6 303 6. 1 2 5 6 f., 114
2 4 . 1 9 75 6. 18 2 1 0
25- 5 * 4 , 2 5 * 6. 25 166
2 6 . 2 139 6. 26 58
2 6 . 3 6 9 n . , 1 3 4 6. 32 255
2 6 . 7 275 8. 21 24
2 6 . 1 3 6 7 8. 22 99
2 7 . 1 8 2 4 4 ) 2 59 8. 2 4 48
2 8 . 1 1 4 8 8. 29 1 21
2 8 . 1 6 2 8 7 10. 9 2 1 , 23
3 0 . 1 3 139) 2 3 7 10. 32 2 4
3 0 . 2 4 59 11. 11 300
3 1 . 2 2 2 8 5 11. 31 2 5 8
3 1 * 2 3
2 6 6 , 1 5 12. 27 28, S, 2 S 1
3 1 - 39 1 0 0 14. 18 129
33- 6 *79 I 4 * 33 21 , 23
3 3 - 19 2 9 7 15- 2 i 7 L *45
33- 2 4
2 6 0
15 - 13 75
33* 2 5 6 9 n . 17 - 5 16
3 6 . 33 6 9 n . 2 4 . 21 3 2 8
3 7 * 6
2 5 1 , X 0 7 25- 4 2 1 9 , 1 0 2
3 4 4 IN D E X O F B IB L IC A L P A S S A G E S
Proverbs ( cont .): 10. 9 225
25. 14 204 10. 20 20, 23, 157
25. 17 167 12. 2 27
25- 27 258, 1 3 7 12. 6 210
26. 23 219 f., 2 2 6
26. 28 20 2, 9 1 Lamentations
27. 18 10 2. 3 263
28. II 258, 1 1 7 2. 16 234
29. 7 24 3. 11 100
29. 10 63 4. 11 263
29. 18 283 f., 1 2 4 4- 14 263
30. 1 4 7 4. 15 262 f., 2 1 8
30. 1 5 234, 1 0 3 , 25 0
30. 16 25 2 Esther
30. 17 234, 271 n ., 1 9 1 1. 13 109
Canticles D aniel
3- 8 153 5. 26 ff. 49
3- 9 103 7. 28 281
3- i o 154
4. 1 161 Ezra
4- 3 147 9. 9 300
4. 4 45
5- i 144 n. Nehem iah
5. 6 81 2. 13 312
6. 5 161 2. 15 312
6. 10 85 3- 8 141
7. 3 107, 5 5- 7 188, 2 0 3
7. 10 16 f. 6. 19 16, 1 4 6
8. 2 -8 39
Q oheleth 13- 10 30
2. 25 122 i 3 - 19 137
3. 11 162 13- 24 39
3- 17 101
5- 5 184 Chronicles
5- 6 81 1. 11 204
5. 12 128 7- 23 181
7- 6 153 12. 1 139 f., 235
7. 7 20S
8. 8 100, 6 0 II Chronicles
8. 10 292, 2 8 0 1 4 .1 0 134 f.
9. 4 51 22. 10 84
INDEX OF SUBJECTS
Arabic figures refer to pages of the te x t; italic figures to numbers of the Index
of Examples.
Accadian, general, 36 f., 95, 102 if., lexical idiosyncrasies of, 114, 116,
110-13, 123, i 58> 178- 119, 165 f., 169 n.
homonyms in, 149, 155. synonyms in, 117.
lexical tablets, 119 ff. homonyms in, 106, 126.
lexical idiosyncrasies, 255. script, 198.
script, 198. Job read as, 34.
discovery of, 70 f., 92. supposed close to proto-Semitic,
loan-words in, 103, n o , 149. 113 f·
words cited from, passim. predominance attached to, 67,
Accents, Hebrew, 33, 59, 196. 112 ff., 297.
Acoustics, 81, 275. words and features cited, passim.
Actuality, argument from, 285 ff. Arabism, 15, 121-4, 241.
*Addady 173-7. Aramaic, of Old Testament, 31,73,104.
Aeschylus, 152 n. replacement of Hebrew by, 38-43.
Aistleitner, J., 149. of Talmud, 43.
*Al, deity, 283. influence on other versions, 54 f.
A lb righ t, W . F ., 34, 75, 112, i i 4 n . , similarities to Hebrew, 50-6, 58.
139 n., 188 n., 190, 225 , 240 n., in Israelite names, 184 η.
3 1 , 48, 5 7 , 67, 9 9 , I 1 3 , 1 4 3 , 15 8 , influence on late Hebrew, 228, 235,
i6 o f i6 g f i g 4 , i g 8 , 295. 262, 289.
Aleppo Codex, 204. Aramaized Hebrew, 40 f.
Allegory, 3, 44, 50; linguistic-form words in biblical Hebrew, 121 n.,
allegory, 44. 178·
Allophones, 215. words and features cited, passim.
Alphabet, 198 f. Aramaism, 121-4.
Al-tiqre, 45 f., 212, 214. Archaeology, 285, 298 n.
Al-Yasln, 119. Archaizing in style, 40.
*Am, deity, 283 n. Area preferences, m - 1 4 .
Amarna, 33, 76. Aristophanes, 72.
Amorite, 33, 36, 184. ‘Artificial’ language, 41.
Analogy, semantic, 90 f., 109, 161. ‘As’ in derivations, 104, 291 n.
Animal names, 10, 128 n., 235. Assimilation, phonological, 96 f., 101,
Antiochus Epiphanes, 39. 178 f .; of texts, 247, 282, 287.
Apodeictic assertions, 80, 93. Assonance, 48, 152 f.
Apollonius Rhodius, 40. Asterisk, not used, 11.
Aquila, 59, 174, 210 ff., 244, 253, Atomistic study, 8, 94, 134, 290, 302,
258 f., 263, 270 f., 281. 304·
Arab philology, 62, 116-19, 126 n., Avestan, 131 f.
143 n.
Arabic, cited in Talmud, 56. Babel, Tower of, 185.
used by Jews, 60-4, 217. Babylonian punctuation, 200, 217.
improved knowledge of in West, Bacher, W., 61, 203.
67 f. Bailey, H. W., 108 n.
words without Hebrew cognate, Barr, J., 44 η., 50 η., 91η., 2 ii n.,
162. 215 n., 226 n., 239 n., 281 n., 301 n.
346 IN D E X O F S U B J E C T S
Barth. J., 97, 165 n. Chicago Assyrian Dictionary, 115,
Basic meanings, 172, 197. 143 n.
Bauer, H., 82, 200 n. Chinese, 77, 151.
B e ‘from’, 175 if. Christianity, 285.
Bedarshi, A., 64. Classification of Semitic languages,
Bedouin, 113. 113-
Beer, G., 69. Codex B 19a, 65, 204.
Beeston, A. F., 85, 176 n., 41, 310. Cognate words, proportions of, 156-
Belardi, W., 108. 64, 305- 7 -
Ben Asher, 61, 65, 207. Communication, 134-45, 150 n.
Ben-Jehuda, 236 f. Comparative literature, 10.
Ben Naphtali, 207. Comparative philology, 76-94 and
Bergsträsser, G., H 3 f., 157 if., 164, passim.
168, 203, 217 n. ancient rudiments of, 50-60.
Bgdkpt, 215. Compatibility of consonants, 106 n.,
Biblia Hebraica (B H 3), 18, 22, 25, 178-81.
27 f., 30 ff., 62, 65, 69 ff., 105 n., Componential analysis, 142 n.
139 f-, 189, i92f·, 210, 230, 239, Concrete sense in words, 276.
283. Conjecture, see Emendation.
Bilingualism, 41 f. Consonants, varying frequency of, 87,
Biliteral theory, 99, 166-70, 273-6. and see Patterning, Compatibility,
Binyanim, 130, 149. as basis for ideas, 197 f.
Birds, names of, 273. and character of writing system,
Birkeland, H., 39, 114. 198 f.
Blau, J., 91, 93, 95. Consonantal text, fallibility of, 191-4.
Bloomfield, L., 138, 142, 274 n. Context, dubious guidance of, 282.
Boling, R. G., 254 n. Coptic, 92, 105.
Borgen, P., 46 n. Correspondences, phonological, 29,
Botterweck, G. J., 167 n., 174 n. 64, 78, 81-5 , 93, 95 ־102, 169,
Brockelmann, C., 31, 82, 86, 93, 180 f., 288.
96 n., 97, 150, 160, 162 f., 176 n., Hebrew-Aramaic lexical, 50 if.
217 n., 234 n., 241 n., 265 n. Semitic lexical, 156-64.
Brown-Driver-Briggs (BDB), 19 f., Couroyer, B., 262.
22, 26, 27, 57, 69, 97, 102, 105, Cowley, A. E., 104 n.
123 m, 125, 128 n., 132, 145-8, 150, Criteria, 8 f., 11 f., 288-304.
182, 229 f., 233 m, 235 m, 246, Critical edition, problems of, 300 f.
291 n ., 295· Cross, F. M., 231 n., 246 n., 80, 105.
Brüll, A., 57 n. Cushitic, 106.
Buck, C. D., 164.
Buxtorf, J., 66. Dahood, M., 23, 100 f., 112, 126,
B־words in parallelism, 183, 254 f. 153 n., 188 n., 240 n., 253, 268 n.,
2 9 2 , 3 0 3 , 7 , i o y 16, 19, 24, 27, 31,
Caesura, 32. 5J , 57, 60, 71, 78, 108, 133, 148,
Cain, 47, 48 n. J 5 6 , J 5 7 , 183 f., 246, 248, 252,
Cairo Codex, 65. 260, 280, 311.
Caique, 264 f. Daiches, S., 13g.
Canaanite, 100 f., 229, 292. Daniel, Book of, 39 f., 49, 220 f.
Cappellus, L., 66 f. Date, as criterion for preference, 112 f.
Case endings, 78. Dead Sea Scrolls, see Qumran.
Caskel, W., 113 n. Decipherment, 92.
Cassuto, M. D., 26. Delitzsch, Franz, 70.
Castell, E., 67. Delitzsch, Friedrich, 70 f., 158, 192,
Cazelles, H., 257. 1, 34, 197-
Checkmate, 107 f. Derash, 44, 46.
IN D E X O F S U B J E C T S 347
Deutero-Isaiah, 146, 148, 155 n. Efros, I. I., 126 n., 143 n.
Dhorme, E., 19η., 2 9 7 . Egypt» Jews in, 54, 208, 241, 268 f.,
Diachronic linguistics, 94. and see Septuagint.
Dialect, general, 83 f., 98-101. Egyptian language, 92, 103 if., 111,
in Hebrew, 23, 25, 73. 178.
in Canaanite, 100 f. Ehrlich, A., 71, 266, 14, 170, 229.
in Arabic, 99 f., 174, 186. Eitan, I., 9, 18 f., 22, 28, 75, 140,
Dictionaries, problems of, 8, 95, 105, 142 n., 153 n., 276, 8, 23, 28, 62,
115-21, 145, 161, 163, 224, 291 n., 7 4 , 8 i , 8 3 , 8 9 , 1 2 5 , J 2 7 f . , 2 3 4 ־,
296, 299 f. 2 3 7 ־, J 54 , J 6J> 16 3 , 2 33 ־6 6 , 2־,
Dillmann, A., 57, 70, 139 ff., 158, 166, 2 j ־o , 2 1 2 y 2 3 6 , 2 3 8 y 2 5 J , 2 5 6 ,
333· 263 f., 265, 271 f.y 2 8 l i.y 287 y
Discontinuous morphemes, 199. 320y 328y 334.
Dissimilation, 96 f., 101, 178 f. Elephantine, 39, 181.
Dossin, G., 216, 299. Ellenbogen, M., 103 n., 104 n.
Dozy, R. P. A., 116, 265 n., 1 3 8 . Ellermaier, F., 122.
Drift, phonetic, 89, 201 f. Ellipse, 3, 48, 63.
Driver, G. R., general statements of, Emendation of text, 3 f., 6 f., 30-5,
3 3 7 5 ,72 ,7 ־, m f · , 116, 165 η., 69-75, 188-222, 239 f., 245 f., 289,
185 n., 225, 296 n. 297, 301 if., and in detail passim.
on the versions, 72, 240 n. Emerton, J. A., 39 n., 221.
and semantic method, 290. Enclitic memy 31 ff.
on Aramaisms, 121 ff. English, 135 f., 138, 155, 195,274,300.
on parallelism, 278 n. Enoch, 4.
on onomatopoeia, 273 f. Eppenstein, S., 98 n., 175 n.
on biliteral bases, 168. Erroneous translations, evidence from,
and Dahood, 111 f., 303. 240, 244 f., 247, 254, 256, 258 f.,
particular observations, 26, 28, 91, 272.
105 η., io8 f., ii9 f ., 125, 128, ESA, see South Arabian.
i3 3 n ., 1 3 9 1 5 3 ,149 , 4 3 ־nEthiopian
·, 1 7 * , languages, modern, 105 f.,
174 f., 188 f., 225 f., 230, 235, 112, 176, 196.
241-4, 247, 2 5 4 2 6 2 ,9 ־n., 265 f.,Ethiopic, general, 36, 67, 78, 97, 112 f.
280, 284, 286, 3y 4y 6y 9, I i y 1 4 - loan-words in, 102, 105 f.
l8 y 22y 35y 42y ^ ^ ־, ^ Ο, homonyms in, 149.
5 2 , 5 5 f., 5 * f · , 6 r , 6 3 , 6 6 , 6 8 - 7 0 , gender in verbs, 30.
73, 77, 82-7y 91 i.y 94y 98, writing system of, 198.
100 f., 107y 112y ii4 y 116, 121, words tabulated against Hebrew,
1 2 3 i.y 1 2 7 y I29y I32y 1 3 ^y 158 f., 164.
1 3 8 - 4 0 y 1 4 2 , *45, 1 5 9 , *62, semantic field of ‘know’ in, 171 f.
166, 171y 175, *77 f·, 1 8 2 , words cited, passim.
1 8 5 f.y jp r , I94y 22 0 1 ,99 ־f.y Etymology, general, 62, 85, 103 f.,
2 o 6 y 2 o 8 y 2 I I y 2 I 3 y 2 l 8 y 2 2 1 ff., 115 f., 129, 143 f., 160 f., 229.
2 2 8 y 2 3 0 - 3 , 2 3 5 y 2 3 7 y 2 4o - 3 , medieval, 62, 64.
247 E, 2 5 3 -6 , 2 5 8 f.y 2 6 6 f.y popular, and etymologizing, 45-50,
2 7 0 y 2 7 3 f.y 279, 2 8 3 ~ 6 y 2 8 9 - 9 1 y 52, 59, 62, 108 f., 118, 174, 210,
2 9 3 , 3 0 0 ~ 2 y 3 0 6 f .y 3 l 2 y 3 1 5 f .y 251, 253 if., 266 f., 269, 281, 289,
3 l 8 y 3 2 1 f.y 3 2 5 ff. 294 f·
Driver, S. R., 69, 144 n., 264. etymological dictionary, 299 f.
Ducange, C. D., 270 n. Eve, 47.
Duhm, B., 75, 242.
Dunash ibn Labrat, 62 f. Face, hiding of the, 253.
Favourite words of translators, 251-3,
Economy of hypotheses, 80. 261.
Education, linguistic, 295 f. Field, F., 58 n., 271 n.
348 IN D E X O F S U B J E C T S
Fish, names of, 165, 236 f. modem, 201.
Fitzmyer, J. A., 39 n. words in Hebrew, 40, 57 f., 62, 104.
Fraenkel, M., 82. adaptation of Phoenician script,
Fraenkel, S., 108 n. 199-
Freedman, D. N., 231 n., 303 n. words cited, passim.
French language, 136,138,155,274 n., Greenberg, J. H., 106 n., 178 ff.
297. Greenfield, J. C., 41 n., 271 n., 273 n.,
Freytag, G. W., 7 n., 72 n., 116, 117 n., 92, J92, 332.
165 f., 181, 263. Grimm, J., 81 f., 84.
Grossmann-Segal (dictionary), 236 f.
Gaster, T. H., 234. Gudschinsky, S. C., 184 η., 185.
Geiger, A., 16. Guillaume, A., 34 b, 99, 123 η., 125,
Gemser, B., 24 n., 28. 173, i 82, 53 f; 75> 9<>, 165, 172־,
Gender, 30 f. 207, 2x5, 260, 303, 313.
Geographic proximity as criterion, Gunkel, H., 75, 140.
113· Gutturals, 214 f.
Gerleman, G., 256 n.
German, Germanic, 81, 83 f., 164. Ha-Levi, Isaac b. Eleazar, 64.
Gesenius-Buhl (dictionary = GB), Hailperin, H., 66 n.
19, 57, 128 n., 137 n., 148, 152, Halper, B., 45.
189 n., 229 n., 230, 233 n. Hamitic, 175.
Gesenius-Kautzsch (grammar = GK), Hapax legomena, 6 f., 61, 70, 102, 119,
24 n., 31, 216. 147, 204 f., 230 f., 263.
Gevirtz, S., 299. Harari, 294 n.
Gillieron, J., 138 f. Harmonization, 282.
Ginsberg, H. L., 33, 219, 270, 149 f., Harris, Z. S., 165 n.
181, 226, 294. Hatch and Redpath (concordance),
Gleason, H. L., 83 n., 186, 195 n., 252, 257, 263.
196 n., 199 n. Haywood, J. A., 116 n.
Glottochronology, ii4 n ., 184-7. Hayyug, Yehuda b. David, 63.
Glück, J. J., 103, 250. ο *Εβραίος, 18, 271.
Goetze, A., 121 n. Hebrew language, disuse of by Jews,
Goitein, S. D., 85. 38- 43·
Goldman, M. D., 23 n. a human language, 67.
Golius, J., 117 n. uniformity of, 73, 100, 206.
Gonda, J., 47 n. regional pronunciations of, 200 f.
Gordis, R., 16 f., 45 n., 153 n., knowledge of in Egypt, 208, 240 n.,
162 n., 213 n., 146 f., 217, 315. 268 f.
Gordon, C. H., 26 n., 149, 175 ff., dialects in, 23, 25, 73.
194 n. general intelligibility of, 297 f.
Goshen-Gottstein, M. H., 42 n., 94 n., mode of reading unpointed, 197.
165 n., 216 n., 239 n. size of vocabulary, 223-7.
Grabe, J. E., 248. Hebrews, Epistle to the, 49.
Grammar, generally, 3, 30-3. Hempel, J., 217 n.
in analysis by versions, 209. Hexapla, 209 n., 211 f., 230, 243.
standardization of Hebrew, 73, 206. Hieroglyphic, 92.
anomalies in Massoretic, 216 f. Himyarite, 174.
Grapheme, 196, 198, 218 n. Hirschberg, Η. H., 22, 277, 11, 155,
Gray, G. B., 233. 173, 224.
Gray, J., 85 n., 107 n., 126, 292 n., Historical criticism, 68, 77.
32, 79, 164, 168, 185, 204, 214, History, as element in philology,
245- 76-81, 89.
Greek language, 12, 40, 43, 77, 86, 91, Hittite, 92, 104, 219.
109, 152 n., 155, 195, 297· Hitzig, F., 162 n.
IN D E X O F S U B J E C T S 349
Hockett, C. F., 274 n. Izalla, 189, 286.
Hoenigswald, H. M., 77, 80 n.
Hommel, F., 248. Jacob, B., 11 n.
Homonyms, general, 17 f., 23, 125- Jastrow, M., 234, 235 n., 244 n.,
55, 243, 289. 257, 263 n., 264 n.
complete and partial, 18, 23 f., Jerome, 5011., 65, 67, 20911., 211 ff.,
127, 129 f. 215, 231, 233, 249, 253, 255, 258,
and homographs, 18, 24, 131 n., 262, 270.
2 4 9 · Jespersen, O., 86 n., 143, 274 n.
in roots, 130 f., 145, 150. Jesus, language spoken by, 38 f.
in verbs, 131 ff. Job, Book of, read as Arabic, 34.
and style, 135, 151-5. treatment in B H 2, 69 f.
and semantic fields, 136-42, 146. Greek version, 256-9.
and polysemy, 142 ff., 147. Jouon, P., 119.
and textual corruption, 144. Josiah, 181, 220.
and riddles, 152.
and communication, 134-45, 150 n · Kaddary, M. Z., 1 3 0 .
and phoneme mergers, 126-9, 149 f. Kahle, P., 203 n., 214-17.
produced by semantic change, 174. Katz, P., 268 n.
in Syriac, 109, 149 ff. Kautzsch, E., 121 n.
in Ugaritic, 149. Kennicott, B., 1.
in Arabic, 106, 128. Keywords in prophecy, 48 f.
of like and unlike function, 135 f., Kimchi family, 55, 64, 67.
146. Kitab a l-A in , 116 n., 118.
separation by text or period, 146 f. Koehler, L., 91 n., 236.
word-formation and, 131 ff., 148. Koehler-Baumgartner (dictionary =
medieval terms for, 126 n. KB), 17, 19 f., 26, 30, 57, 91 n.,
and Massorah, 204 f. 128 n., 146 n., 147 f., 174 n., 229 f.,
contamination between, 108 f. 233 n., 236, 241, 259, 265, 295.
counts of, 145-51, 299. Komlos, O., 229.
newly identified, passim. Kopf, L., 106 f., n 6 f ., 175, 188, 52,
Hugo of St. Victor, 66. 93, 144, 203.
Humbert, P., 105, 265. Koskinen, K., 178 f.
Hummel, H. D., 33. Kraus, H.-J., 67 n., 75, H 4 n ., 192.
Hyatt, J. P., 303 n. Krauss, S., 56 n.
Hymes, D., 80 n., 184 n., 186 n., Kretschmer, P., 138 n.
275 n. Kutscher, E. Y., 42 n., 216 n,, 217 n.
60, 62, 174, 208, 230, 234f., 243 f., 5, 1 0 4 ־, J 9 J , J 9 6 , 2 0 0 , 2 9 5 , 310.
252 f., 254 f., 258 f., 262-5, 270 f., Ullmann, S., 2 7 4 n., 2 7 5 n., 2 9 1 n.
286.
paraphrastic nature of, 52-5, 270. Verb, homonymy in the, 131 ff.
influence on LXX, 54 f., 259. verb-classes, 131 f.
importance for medieval philology, verbs as loan-words, 104 n.
62 ff. Vermes, G., 49 n.
and caiques or etymologies, 52 ff., Vemer, K., 84.
263 ff. Versions, general, 2, 5, 73, 144, 238-
Textual criticism, textual treatment, 72, 289.
1-13, 68-72, 301-4 and. passim. their mode of *reading’, 238 f.
textual errors, date of origin of, influence on each other, 259 f.
218-21. stereotypes in, 252 f.
in Hebrew, 144, 245 ff. and grammar of original, 265 f.
in versions, 247 ff. imprecise renderings, 52-5, 249-
Theodotion, 212, 258 f., 271. 5 3 , 2 5 5 ־8 .
Thieme, P., 275 n. uncertainty of sense, 262-5.
Thomas, D. W., 19, 21 f., 26, 34, 72, and see Septuagint etc., and
75, 165 n., 233 m, 240 f., 301, 84, Erroneous translations.
97, n 5, 120, 126, 137, 151-4, Vision, Prophetic, 283 f.
l6?y 190 f., 200, 217 f., 234, 309, Vocalization, general, 188-222, 289.
314, 328. existed before marked in writing,
Thumb, A., 201 n. 195 ff., 207-17, 221.
Tigre, 159. evidence for pre-Massoretic, 207-17,
Tigrinya, 113, 294 m 233 n.
Tocharian, 92, 297. age and reliability of, 73, 220 f.
Torczyner, H., 45 n., and see T ur- interdependent with textual history,
Sinai. 218 f.
Torrey, C. C., 146 n. not based on semantic decisions,
Transcriptions, 18, 71 f., 129. 202-7.
Translations in Bible from other and analysis of Hebrew grammar,
languages, 123. 36, 63, 65, 216 f., 221 f., 289.
Translations, modern, 298 f. alleged dispensability of, 35 f., 67,
Triliteral root, 62 ff., 166, and see 73, 188 ff.
Biliteral theory. inspiration of, 66 f.
Tsevat, M., 2x9, 329. ambiguity of term, 196.
Turkish, 77. examples of emendation, passim.
Tur-Sinai, N. H., 27, 75, 123, 134^·, Vollers, K., 55 n.
142, 162, 190, 234, 242 n., 303, Vowels, as modifiers of basic sense, 197.
29 f., 39 f., 65, io 2 t n o , 119, J79, Vulgate, 18, 3 0 , 59, 140, 174, 230,
187, 193, 195, 209, 220, 273 f., 2 3 3 f·, 2 4 3 n., 247, 258 f., 262, 270,
277 f., 292, 307, 327, 331. 286, and see Jerome.
354 IN D E X O F S U B JE C T S
Wagner, M., 121. Wright, G. E., 33 n.
Wallenstein, M., 231. Writing systems, Semitic, 198 f.
Walton, B., 296 n. Latin and Greek, 199, 215.
Waw consecutive, 217. Wurthwein, E., 8.
Weak consonants, 63, 96, 189. Wutz, F. X., 55 n., 71 f., 107, 248 n
Wechter, P., 64 n., 98 n., 174 n. 244.
Wehr, H., 175 n.
Yahuda, A. S., i n .
Weil, G., 173.
Yalon, H., 226 n.
Weil, G. E., 66 n., 204 n., 205 n.
Yannai, 230 f.
Weinreich, U., 42 n.
Yemenite Arabic, 100.
Weiss, A. von, 42 n.
Yemenite Jews, 217 f.
Wellhausen, J., 68 f., i n , 144.
Wernberg-Moller, P., 225 n., 226 n., Ziff, P., 274 n.
241. Zimmermann, F., 227.
Wild, S., 116 ff. Zimmern, H., 121.
Word divisions, 189 f., 209, 267. Ziudsudra, 48 n.
Word-formation, 63, n o , 131 ff., 275. Zoroastrianism, 74.
POSTSCRIPT
L o o k in g back over nearly twenty years, the author can hardly fail
to be satisfied with the effect that this book had. For it can scarcely
be doubted that it succeeded in its central aim, which was to
introduce an element of systematic and critical reflection into the
proliferation of novel identifications of Hebrew words, supposedly
based upon the methods of comparative philology. That such
identifications could be right, that the method could indeed work
successfully, remains true, and I myself never doubted it. But the
number of such identifications suggested, their constantly increasing
proliferation, and the frequent contradictions between one such
solution and another could not but lead to a deep scepticism in the
end. The inventive virtuosity of those who made the discoveries
could not prevail against a cool and methodical evaluation.
Comparative Philology and the Text o f the Old Testament was
published, as it turned out, near the crest of the wave of philo
logical innovations, just a short time before that wave began to
break and disintegrate. The rise and fall of the fashion can be well
traced, among other places, in the modern translations of the
Bible. It was very odd that G. E. Mendenhall criticized my book
for failure to consider whether the examples quoted had been
accepted in recent translations.1 I could not refer to the New
English Bible, for its Old Testament had not then been published
(it appeared in 1970). But everyone who was in contact with
scholarship at the time knew that the NEB would be full of exactly
the sort of examples I reviewed in this volume, and so it was.2 The
launching of new philological proposals upon the public through
translations—often before the scholarly world had accepted them,
or had even heard of them—was equally manifest in the work of
5 To date only two volumes of a projected five have appeared (covering Joshua,
Judges, Ruth, Samuel, Kings, Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, Isaiah, Jeremiah,
and Lamentations): Dominique Barthélemy, ed., Critique textuelle de lAncien
Testament. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis, vols. 50/ 1, 2 (Fribourg Suisse: Editions
Universitaires; Gottingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1982-).
6 Barthélemy, Critique textuelle, vol. 1, xiv.
7 They are listed in L. H. Brockington, The Hebrew Text o f the Old Testament:
The Readings Adopted by the Translators o f the New English Bible (Oxford:
Oxford University Press; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1973).
8 Note the use of this phrase in the subtitle of the combined edition (see n. 4).
358 POSTSCRIPT
major translations produced in the sixties and seventies, however
much they professed opposition to the recognition of textual varia
tion as the cause of problems, may be said to have been, despite
themselves, monuments to the need for serious textual criticism
even among those who would prefer to bypass it through philo
logical discovery. But any really critical attitude to the text is
likely to make more precarious the point of departure toward
philological solutions. The work of Barthélemy’s committee is
solidly textual in its approach.
Various aspects of these issues come to expression in the three
articles which are printed below and which form a supplement to
the original book. The article ‘Philology and Exegesis: Some
General Remarks, with Illustrations from Job’ was originally a
paper presented at the Journées Bibliques of Louvain in 1972. The
meeting took a series of current problems in Old Testament studies
in which a confrontation of contrary opinions might take place,
and one of these formed a session in which Professor Dahood and
I read papers, both relating to the general approach of compara
tive philology and referring this to the particular example of Job
3.9 In my own argument I seek to explain, among other things,
why my original book had concentrated less on Dahood’s work—
and less on Ugaritic—than some might have expected. I also show,
in the case of the Punic name Magon, that the evidence alleged by
Dahood from the Phoenician area was actually a complete mis
understanding of the source. Along with this goes another point:
The position taken by Dahood, far from being well based in
comparative philology, was destructive of comparative philology,
for he went beyond using Ugaritic as a source from which Hebrew
could be elucidated and was interested rather in proving that
Ugaritic and Hebrew were identical; in his own words, it was a
method of ‘virtually equating Ugaritic, Phoenician and Hebrew’.10
I also, with examples from Job 3, look at another aspect: the
problem of the internal relations and nuances that obtained within
Hebrew itself, as distinct from the ‘original’ associations of the
same terms even when these can be determined. These thoughts
11 On these problems in general, as related to the text of Job, see also the more
recent work of Lester L. Grabbe, Comparative Philology and the Text o f Job: A
Study in Methodology (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1977).
12 Reprinted on pp. 388-411 below.
13 J. C. L. Gibson, Canaanite Myths and Legends (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark,
1978), 50 n. 5.
360 POSTSCRIPT
degree of this sharing, the more likely it is that comparative phi
lology will produce good suggestions for particular problems in the
Hebrew text; and, conversely, the lower the degree of this sharing,
the less likely it will be that resources for such suggestions will
exist. I had already addressed some aspects of this question in
chapter 7 above, and I returned to it in the paper on ‘Limitations
of Etymology as a Lexicographical Instrument in Biblical Hebrew’,
which was read in various forms to various groups during the
seventies, such as the Cambridge University Oriental Society, and
finally to the Philological Society in 1979.14 Though I have
described the problem as a theoretical one, the handling of it is
based very largely within practical operations. There are certain
aspects of Semitic languages that encourage a fascination with
etymology and similar relations, and this fascination undoubtedly
fosters the idea that comparative philological solutions to prob
lems of vocabulary are likely to succeed. My own practical experi
ence as a lexicographer of Hebrew, however, has led me in the
opposite direction. As against those who follow a more recent
trend and want to discount comparative information altogether, I
gave reasons, based on the actual functioning of the languages and
upon the practical needs of scholars, why this information con
tinues to be of positive importance. But on the other hand I had to
register some of the many cases where, even given the best will in
the world for the pursuit of philological research, it seemed simply
to provide no answer, and the lexicographer had to acknowledge
that he had no relevant comparative information at all, or that,
even if he had it, it simply failed to illuminate the relations between
words in the way in which it has commonly been expected to
illuminate them. That this need not be surprising was confirmed
through reference to D. Cohen’s Dictionnaire des racines
sémitiques.15 Another recent publication that should be mentioned
is L. Kopf’s Studies in Arabic and Hebrew Lexicography.16
3 Comparative Philology, pp. 30-33 [above]. The remarks about enclitic mem
have excited some comment; a “perverse attack”, says Andersen. Perverse perhaps,
but not an attack: I do not in fact express any opinion of my own about the
existence of enclitic mem in Hebrew, but only about the character of certain argu
ments offered.
4 D a h o o d , p. 71.
364 PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS
by the newer; thirdly, that the discussion in my book was out of
due time, since the situation described was one now left far behind.5
Of these latter two points, neither seems to me to have sub
stance. As for timeliness, although the method under discussion is
not a new one, its cumulative effect has quite suddenly become
very much greater, both through the amount of material published
and through the particular fact that so much has been made public
in the form of popular Bible translations.6 As for quality, I do not
share the view that the “new method and criteria”, if we are to
judge by Dahood’s own publications and those of his pupils, stand
at a higher level than the work of an older generation such as
Tur-Sinai, Driver and Winton Thomas. On the contrary, that
work of older scholars has seemed to me to have a much better
and more responsible character, and it is for this reason that most
of the examples I studied in the book were taken from this group.
Though in the end I came to regard many of them as uncon
vincing, the study of them was a real intellectual stimulus; few of
them were just obviously wrong, and only a careful analysis of the
sources enabled one to form a judgement. The study of them was
of real value. That Dahood should look down on this work of an
older generation as deficient, and that it should often be simply
ignored or disregarded in works inspired or guided by him,7 is very
difficult to understand. It is true that my study paid proportion
ately more attention to the work of older scholars, and that it cited
less of Dahood’s suggestions than it might have done; but a main
reason for this, I must in frankness say, is that if I had cited more
of the latter I would have felt liable to the charge of picking out
quite obviously fantastic suggestions in order to bring ridicule on
the method as a whole. The fact that this accusation was indeed
made8 confirms that I was right in being sensitive to the possibility
of it. In fact, in my selection of examples for discussion I leant
over backwards to avoid, wherever possible, the citation of sug
gestions which were obviously worthless, which did not teach some
5 D a h o o d , pp. 71, 79 and passim‘, also the title of his review, “Comparative
Philology Yesterday and Today”.
6 On this see further below, pp. 385 f.
7 Cf. for instance W. McKane’s remarks in his review of W. A. v a n d e r W e i d e n ,
Le Livre des Proverbes, in JSS 16 (1971) 222- 36, especially pp. 232- 34.
8 A n d e r s e n , p. 345.
PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS 365
9 Plenty of such suggestions, however, can be cited; cf. below, pp. 369 if.
10 A n d e r s e n , ibid., uses the phrase “ill-concealed hostility towards the work of
Fr. Mitchell Dahood.”
11 See recently for instance C. J. Labuschagne’s review of A. C. M. B l o m m e r d e ’s
Northwest Semitic Grammar and Job, in Ugarit-Forschungen 3 (1971) 373- 74.
12 On all these points McKane’s remarks in the review quoted seem to me to be
right in themselves and also to express what is held by the central current or
scholarship. For a view which stands at the absolutely opposite extreme from
Dahood’s, cf. J. F. A. Sawyer’s remarks on the generally lucid, intelligible and
meaningful character of the Masoretic Text, Semantics in Biblical Research (1972),
366 PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS
its context within the Hebrew biblical text. These points will be
illustrated below.
There is however one particular point about Dahood’s approach
which I had not sufficiently taken into account in the writing of my
book, and which to me seems even more unclear now than it was
then: is Dahood’s method really intended to be a comparative
approach at all? I have devoted my investigation to those explana
tions of Hebrew where meanings are derived from the meanings of
forms in a cognate language, i.e. a language related but different.
Dahood’s position, at least sometimes, seems to be rather that
Ugaritic is Hebrew and Hebrew is Ugaritic; the two are the same
language in somewhat different temporal and local manifestations.13
His method then is not really comparative, in the sense in which I
have used the word, but consists of internal elucidation within the
unitary Ugaritic-Canaanite-Hebrew world. The demonstration of
this unitary (though diversified) linguistic (and also cultural)
mélange is Dahood’s real interest in the matter. When he contrasts
his method with that of the older scholars, it is at least possible
that he is trying to say that their method was really a comparative
one, working with languages which are recognized to be cognate
but different, while his is a non-comparative one, working with
internal relations which at most are only dialectal.
If this is indeed Dahood’s intention, then two things follow:
firstly, I failed to give proper attention to this (reasonably enough,
since Dahood himself does not make it clear); and secondly my
arguments do not deal, and were not intended to deal, with that
segment of his work which is intended to be not comparative but
internal in its method. But, on the other hand, even if Dahood’s
work with Canaanite languages is not comparative but internal,
13 It is, of course, perfectly conceivable that Ugaritic and Hebrew should be “the
same language” in this sense; and if this is so, then of course it is so. Dahood’s work
can be represented as an exploration of the hypothesis that this is so; but the
exploration is carried out in such a way as to override as far as is possible all the
evidence that might indicate that it is not so. His presentation of evidence is not
designed to assist discussion of the question whether Ugaritic is thus related to
Hebrew or not; it does not leave such questions open. Any real comparative
discussion is difficult, since there is very little in Ugaritic of which Dahood will
grant, even for the purpose of discussion, that it does not exist in Hebrew, and vice
versa. This is, incidentally, one reason why I published a comparative table of
Syriac and Hebrew verbs rather than one of Ugaritic and Hebrew (cf. M o r a n ,
op. cit., p. 241): under the present circumstances, one would not have an adequate
agreed basis for the setting up of the latter table.
PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS 367
there is no doubt that he in fact shifts the whole time back and
forward between comparative and internal operations, and that the
comparative segment of his work is affected by, and subject to, my
arguments just as before.
This brings us back conveniently to a point of principle, namely
that the validity of comparative philology as a discipline is not at
all in question, at least from my side. It is the logic of comparative
philology that is taken for granted, with only slight modifications,
throughout my investigation; and if solutions are found to be
deficient it is because comparative philological method, when
properly examined, shows that there is evidence against them. My
purpose was to state properly the methods required by compara
tive philology, so that readers might be better able to judge whether
suggestions, allegedly thrown up through the use of this method,
were in fact validated by it. The notion, pursued in Wernberg-
Moller’s review, that I want to “dismiss” comparative philological
method or to erect a “new edifice” to take its place, has very little
to do with my purpose.14
Our subject here however is not comparative philology itself but
a sort of applied comparative philology. The basic work of com
parative philology is, let us say, to establish a picture of the
Semitic languages and their interrelations through the joint use of
data from the various branches of the family. This basic philo
logical work provides the fundamental logic for the task which we
are discussing. But what we are talking about is not itself com
parative philology in that sense: rather, it is an applied and heuristic
operation, dependent on (or at worst parasitic upon) comparative
philology. It is an operation which appears to use the insights of
comparative philology but can very easily override them. Those
whose prime interest has been to reconstruct a hitherto unknown
stage of Hebrew or its prehistoric relations with Ugaritic have not
necessarily observed the proper needs and rules of comparative
instances discussed, such as stc on pp. 180, 294 etc., are among the suggestions
treated most favourably.
17 The persons concerned as well known and are fully described in any standard
history.
18 M a u r i n , op. cit., p. 16, n. 2; I have omitted the references to other literature
which are included in parentheses.
PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS 371
In fact one sees that everything said about Punic magon by
Dahood is wrong. The word is a personal name, and not a title.
Carthaginian generals were not given magon as a title; either it was
their personal name before they became general, or it was not.
Latin imperator or dux is not a reproduction of magon, but a
designation of the office of general held by people with names like
Hannibal or Hasdrubal, who happened to belong to the family of
the Magonids. The passage has nothing to do with a reproduction
of Punic words in Latin inscriptions; it is a matter of terms used by
Latin (or Greek) historians to designate the office held by certain
Carthaginian leaders. The idea that magon is a title, or that it is
“the Punic name for ‘emperor’”, is not only not supported, but is
expressly ruled out as self-evidently untrue, by the source quoted
by Dahood in favour of his interpretation.19
In fact the sense of the name Magon is well known: it comes
from a very common word meaning “give”, perhaps “offer, deliver”.
This occurs in Hebrew but is rather rare. In Punic on the other
hand it is very common. The overwhelmingly probable meaning of
the name Magon is “he has given (a son)”.20 It belongs to the same
common type as the Hebrew name Nathan. Far from being ren
dered by Latin and other bilingual inscriptions as “emperor” (!), it
is “rendered” simply as the name Magon, and very numerous
examples can be found.
Thus Dahood’s entire construction of a sense “suzerain” for
m-g-n in Hebrew lacks any basis in Phoenician-Punic evidence,
and is contradicted by the sources to which Dahood appeals. This
is not a matter of evidence in existence, which might be interpreted
21 D a h o o d , p . 77.
22 Cf. C. H. G o r d o n , Ugaritic Literature (1949), p. 18: “She washes her hands in
the blood of soldiery”; G . R. D r i v e r , CML, p. 85: “washed . . . her hand(s) in the
blood of the guards”; recently A . S. K a p e l r u d , The Violent Goddess (Oslo, 1969),
p. 50: “She washed her hands in the blood of soldiers”; and not least W. F.
A l b r i g h t , HUCA 23 (1950- 51) 20, 38: “with whose blood she washed her hands”.
23 On the point at issue in all this, i.e. the recognition of b meaning “from”, my
position has the welcome agreement of W. L. M o r a n , pp. 239 f.—he being doubt
less also unschooled in Ugaritic.
374 P H IL O L O G Y AND EXEGESIS
connection with an Arabic s-l-m “cut off”—a suggestion made by him only hesitat
ingly in any case; and I give hesitant favour to the derivation from s-l-m “dark” of
the two instances in the Psalms (39. 7; 73. 20), so that I do not share his confidence
that the root s-l-m with the sense “dark” did not exist in Hebrew and Aramaic
at all.
31 Hehn’s article was published during the war and is somewhat inaccessible.
PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS 377
32 It is possible, however, that NEB presumed a textual error and read the text as
salmut mawet. The corruption would be easily explained as haplography; but there
is no other example, so far as I know, of such a collocation.
378 PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS
I do not wish to claim too much for these examples; but it is
only right that they should be set alongside the well-known cases
where salmawet stands in parallel with words for “darkness” like
hosek or in opposition to words for “light” such as Dor.
Two further aspects seem worthy of attention. One is the inves
tigation of locutions in which a pattern like “the x of God” is taken
to mean “a very great x ’\ Professor D. Winton Thomas in an
article on “Unusual Ways of expressing the Superlative in Hebrew”
devoted several pages to combinations with mut and mawet.33 He
did not there mention, however, the case of salmawet.
In 1962 Professor Winton Thomas published a full study of our
word, in which he resumed some of the early arguments and
brought to bear also the force of his own studies in mut/mawet as
an expression for the “superlative”.34 He also concluded in favour
of the sense literally “shadow of death”, but in effect “deep, thick
darkness”, and in favour of the form salmawet. The case of this
word is a curious one, in that the majority opinion in modern
times has certainly been in favour of the form salmut and the sense
“darkness” (root s-l-m), but among scholars who have devoted full
independent studies to the word the trend has been in the opposite
direction.
He provided some further discussion in another article in 1968.35
Meanwhile S. Rin had published a note on “The mwt of Grandeur”,
which widened the subject by making reference to the deity Mot
and the work of Cassuto.36 These contributions appear to give
some support to the idea that salmawet, if analysed as “shadow”
plus “death”, nevertheless might—in some cases at any rate—have
had a sense like “very deep shadow”, independently of any referen
tial component specifying death. If this were so, then the under
standing as “the shadow of death”, as represented for instance in
the LXX renderings, would be no more than a literal representa
tion of the original idiomatic phrase. Such a representation leaves
33 VT 3 (1953) 209- 24, especially pp. 219- 22. Quite incidentally, it seems a
little unfortunate that this construction has come to be categorized as a mode
of “expressing the superlative”—this is hardly what is meant.
34 In JSS 7 (1962) 191- 200. I developed the arguments of this present paper
independently of Winton Thomas’s article, which might have made this section
superfluous; in any case my position is not quite the same as his, and I develop the
facts in a different way.
״VT 18 (1968) 120- 24, especially pp. 122 f.
36 VT 9 (1959) 324 f.
PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS 379
it uncertain how far the total sense of the idiom was still appre
ciated, or how far on the other hand that total sense had now been
replaced by the sum of the independent senses of the two com
ponent parts. The questions then remaining would be: (a) why the
vowel of the first element is a, instead of the e customary in the
free form of the construct sel “the shadow of . . and (b) why the
whole idiom was written as one word, without word division.
Neither of these is a very serious difficulty.37
Another relevant consideration, which can hardly be ignored
even if it is not clear in what direction it leads, is that salmawet has
a certain similarity to a personal or place name. There are in
Hebrew at least two comparable forms, and these are both proper
names: Ifsarmawet “Hadramaut”, and cazmawet “Azmaveth” or
(spelling of NEB) “Azmoth”. This latter is the name of several
persons in early Israelite history; there was also a place called
Beth-azmaveth. There is good reason to suppose that these names
were compounds including the divine name Mot.38 It is a reason
able surmise that salmawet could have had some association with
this type of name, (a) This would account for the “compound”
word form and the anomaly of the vowel a\ phenomena of this
kind are frequent in names, (b) The root s-l-l with the sense
“shelter” is of course common in Semitic names; cf. e.g. Tallquist,
Assyrian Personal Names, p. 303b, and in Hebrew the familiar
Bezaleel (and very likely Zelophehad).39 (c) In this case the analysis
of the term into “the shadow of death” would be not only a
linguistic process but also part of the demythologizing, so to speak,
of a name associated with an alien deity and the “shelter” given by
him—the deity becomes ordinary human death, the shelter becomes
shadow.40
37 The argument sometimes made against the form salmawet, namely that “com
pounds of this kind do not exist in Hebrew”, is a weak one; for no more is
necessarily involved than a graphic peculiarity, i.e. the writing of the entire phrase
without a word-dividing space. But cf. also another aspect, to be mentioned below.
38 On Hadramaut see already G. R. D r i v e r in PEQ 1945, pp. 13 f.; on Azmaveth,
see C assuto, Ha-elah cAnat (Jerusalem, 1953), pp. 28 f., 47 if.
39 Cf. N o t h , Die israelitischen Personennamen, p. 152; Noth seems wrong in
rejecting a connection between s-l-l and the name Zelophehad; a sense like “may the
deity (pahad) shelter, protect” would seem very probable; cf. N o t h , p. 256,
no. 1204. ’
40 I merely mention, for the sake of the information, the pair of apparent names
glmt and zlmt in CTA 4, vii, 54 f. (p. 30), Gordon UT 51, VII, 54. These may be
380 PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS
That there was a place with the name salmawet cannot, of
course, be demonstrated. We have already noted, however, that the
word does occur in spatial contexts on some occasions. One piece
of possible support lies in the similarity between “the valley of
salmawet” in Ps. 23. 4 and “the vale of the bakaD” in Ps. 84. 7. It is
commonly held, and with quite good reason, that this latter was
the name of a particular real place. But, whatever the “original”
meaning of the name, it is very probable that from an early date it
was understood to have the suggestion of “Vale of Weeping”, and
this provides the universality required for use in the Psalm context.
This understanding therefore, though found for example in the
LXX with its έν τη κοιλάδι του κλαυθμώνος, is probably already
intended in the Hebrew text of the Psalm. In general, it is likely
that the Ps. 23 passage has played a central part in spreading the
“shadow of death” understanding of our term.
I do not claim to have solved the problem with these considera
tions, but only to have shown that it is a more complicated one
than is generally supposed, and one in which several different levels
of explanation can be and must be held together in the mind at one
time. It is at least possible that the total history involves: (a) forms
from a root s-l-m “dark”; (b) an idiom where “shadow” plus
“death” meant “deep shadow”; (c) a name of the type “may
Mot give protection”. The eventual standardization of “shadow of
death” would then be not an artificial invention, but a universali
zation over the entire usage of that which had earlier belonged
only to a part. The phonetic form preserved in MT is not an
artificial invention but has real foundations in the history of the
term.
The case is an example, then, of the complexity of the strata of
tradition and understanding with which we have to deal in the
analysis of a Hebrew text, and the improbability that simple
philological parallels will prove to be in themselves decisive. In
particular, philological information from cognate languages is
something that is to be taken into account, but does not in
itself provide a decision; and the provision of a “correct transla-
relevant but I am not sure how. zl “shadow” is well established in Ugaritic, but zlm
“darkness” is not; this may be relevant to the question whether it ever existed in
Hebrew.
PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS 381
41 The Hebrew dictionaries tend to give an impression that the sense “black” is
basic in Syriac. My impression is that the sense “be sad” (of personal emotion) is
much more central than that of colour; for the colour black Syriac uses primarily
other words, especially the root Dkm.
42 See M. M ansoor, VTS 9 (1963) 316 f. The Qumran readings support for
Sirach the reading as cited above, as against the variant kmryry (= MT in Job).
The citation bmryry, above, is the form as given by Mansoor; for our present pur
pose it makes no difference if it is read as bmrwry.
43 On such formations, see my discussion in Comparative Philology, pp. 227 ff.
[above].
44 For the syntax, cf., perhaps kimeribe kohen, Hos. 4. 4.
45 Akkadian kamaru is “heap up”, and not “overshadow, darken”, as is said by
Dhorme, Job, p. 27; Ethiopic kdmr is also “heap”.
382 PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS
we may go on and say that the second is cognate with Ethiopic
tacayyara, giving a sense “revile”.46 Parallelism in the verbs is
achieved also by the NEB rendering:47
Cursed be it by those whose magic binds even the monster of the deep,
who are ready to tame Leviathan himself with spells.
We shall concentrate, however, on the question of parallelism in
the nouns, and bring the verbs in only incidentally.
We recognise the intrinsic probability of a connection between
Leviathan and the sea; since Leviathan was a sea-monster, that can
go without saying. It does not decide however what the poet of Job
was saying. In his context the basic subject matter is a day or a
night, the day of Job’s begetting or of his birth, his “day” (3. 1). In
verse 7 he is still talking about this same thing, about a “night”. In
verse 9 also we are still dealing with features of this day—its
twilight, its unsuccessful longing for light, its relation to the twi
light or dawn. The probability then is that the MT is right with its
yom: the poet is talking about the “day-cursers”, and there is
nothing about the sea in the passage.48 A traditional parallelism
between sea and Leviathan is so likely that it hardly needs to be
proved, and one need not doubt its presence in the “background”
here; but in the actual poem as produced, this relationship has now
become otiose. Because the poet is concerned with day, he now has
a significant poetical connection between Dorere and the waiting for
light, Dor, in the next line; it may perhaps have elements of ambi
guity, suggesting both “those who curse” and “those who give
light”. As for Dorer, it is most probably the familiar Hebrew with
the sense “stir up”. The primary need of the exegete is not to
“identify” the mythological background, in the sense of stating
exactly what pre-existing myth is presupposed; what is more
important is the myth as it is reconstituted by the poet for his own
49 On this see my Biblical Words for Time (2nd edition, London, 1969), pp. 194-
207, “The Philosophical Background”. One reviewer, there quoted (p. 194 n.),
identified “an extreme positivist and formalist attitude, which detests any introduc
tion of philosophical content.”
384 PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS
complete absence of critical and thoughtful analysis of the basis of
the method; an alienation from the sophisticated discussion of
ideas, of entities such as theologies; the use of purely pragmatic
criteria in argument; and, because no properly argued foundation
is provided, the corroboration of each detail and its function not
by any theoretical foundation but by the mere addition of yet more
details of the same kind and on the same level50—a principle which
at its worst deteriorates into that of validation through claims to
multiple success.
Out of all this I shall pick one or two special cases for further
mention. It is hardly disputable that the scholars who have been
most productive with philological suggestions, who have produced
not just a few but hundreds or even thousands, have at the same
time been people rather alienated from the main currents of exe
gesis. Form criticism, for instance, which is one of the major
modern approaches to biblical literature, seems to have passed
them by. Not only this, but even fundamental literary criticism
seems often to have passed them by; some of the points at which
philological explanations have been offered were difficulties requir
ing new interpretations only if widely accepted literary-critical
solutions were ignored. I shall illustrate this from only one instance,
a case which I mentioned in Comparative Philology, without how
ever touching on this aspect of it.51 At Num. 16. 1 the text begins
with wayyiqqah qorah, at first sight apparently “and Korah
took”—but there is no object; and hence the suggestion that this is
a completely other verb, meaning “was insolent, was defiant,
rebelled”. The NEB, I notice, has “Now Korah . . . challenged the
authority of Moses”, which I take to be the same interpretation in
a more generalized form. This is a place, however, where tradi
tional literary criticism had already provided an alternative expla
nation, by suggesting that two different sources were compounded.
In one source, let us say, Korah “took” the “men” who appear as
the fourth word in verse 2; some others out of the long list of
names, now in verse 1, form the subject of the other verb “and they
arose” at the beginning of verse 2. Thus we have two sources:
50 Cf. the contrast I make between a logic dominated by discovery and a logic
dominated by analysis, Transactions o f the Philological Society, ibid., p. 54.
51 Comparative Philology, pp. 17 f. [above].
PHILOLOGY AND EXEGESIS 385
(a) And Korah took men of the children of Israel (P?)
(b) Dathan and Abiram, etc., arose before Moses (JE?)
I do not say that this analysis is necessarily correct;52 but if it is
even taken into consideration as a possibility, the case for finding a
difficulty in the present text with the sense “and he took” is likely
to disappear. In my distinction of two modes of dealing with a
difficult text, the textual through emendation and the philologi
cal through new identification of meaning on the basis of a cognate
language, I should have added for some cases the source-critical,
as here.
Something similar can be said on the level of theological exe
gesis. Proponents of the philological identification from cognate
sources seem often to suppose that the provision of a right transla
tion of the words constitutes more or less a complete exegesis; on
the other hand, the handling of the ideas and the theologies of the
texts is often wild and irresponsible. It ranges from a kind of
reductionism, which seeks to diminish as far as possible the
theological dimensions of the text—a tendency very visible in the
work of Driver—at the one end, to a blind traditionalism, at the
other end, which discovers in the Psalms traditional beliefs like
that in immortality, in defiance of all that has been learned through
patient study in the religion and theology of the Old Testament. In
Dahood’s case it seems likely that the values and terms of a highly
traditional Christian theology are attached to the Hebrew-IJgaritic
cultural-religious mélange which accompanies in his eyes the lin
guistic indistinguishability of the two.
The aspect of translation has already been mentioned, and must
be further stressed. It is unfortunate that many of the philological
suggestions now being mooted have been aired for the first time, or
almost the first time, in translations; and not only in translations
but in translations intended for the general public and as such
magnified by the full publicity of modern advertising. The work of
translation is not in my judgement at all a good way of making
these suggestions available for discussion. It is of course only right
that the general public should have made available to it the results
1 I have to express thanks to many who have assisted me with their opinions and
advice, especially in their specialized fields, and most of all Professors A. F. L.
Beeston, W. G. Lambert and R. B. Serjeant, and my Manchester colleagues
Professor C. E. Bosworth, Dr J. D. Latham, Dr M. A. A. el-Kafrawy, Mr M. E. J.
Richardson and Mr S. Strelcyn. None of these, naturally, is responsible for the
results I have reached, but I am grateful for their willingness that I should quote
their opinion where this has been done. [Reprinted with permission from Journal o f
Semitic Studies 18 (1973) 17- 39.]
2 C. H. Gordon, Ugaritic Literature (Rome, 1949), pp. 19 f.
UGARITIC AND HEBREW “SBM”? 389
cation of sbm added to this the image of the muzzling of such a
monster. No other context in Ugaritic, such as the muzzling of
actual dogs or other animals, has been identified. The sense of “to
muzzle” seems to have been very widely accepted and passed on
from one scholar to another; only occasional doubts and qualifica
tions, which will be discussed below, have been expressed; and the
identification may be said to have become part of the received
tradition of meanings in Ugaritic.
On the basis of the Ugaritic sbm with this meaning, such a
word has been identified in Hebrew also. At Ps. lxviii. 23, where
MT has:
אשיב ממצלוזז ים מבשן אשיב
it has been suggested that the latter part of the line should be
read as
אשבם מצלות ים
with the sense something like “I muzzled the abysses of the Sea”.3
This view is strengthened by the parallelism with בשן, this word
being understood as “Serpent”.4
The suggestion is at first sight an attractive one, and has received
considerable recognition; it was described as “brilliant” by M. H.
Pope, who regards as corrupt and “meaningless” the text when
taken in its more general previous understanding as something like
“I will bring back from the depths of the sea”.5 Further elabora-
tions on the suggestion have been made, and we may quote that of
P. D. Miller, Jr., who proposed to read the text as
אשבם מצלות ים אשבם בשן
something like: “I muzzled the Serpent, I muzzled the abysses of
the Sea”.6
3 So M. J. Dahood, “mismar ‘muzzle’ in Job 7, 12”, J.B.L. lxxx (1961), 270 f.,
and again in Psalms I I( 1968), pp. 131, 145 f. The example is included by me in the
list at the end of Comparative Philology and the Text o f the Old Testament, no.
311 [above], but is not further discussed in that book.
4 Dahood, Psalms //, pp. 145 f., reaffirms this, criticizing the contrary view
previously expressed by A. R. Johnson, Sacral Kingship in Ancient Israel (Cardiff,
1955), p. 73 n., who said that this view was against the context.
5 Pope, Job (1965), p. 60.
6 Harvard Theological Review lvii (1964), 240.
390 UGARITIC AND HEBREW ״SBM?״
Miller at the same time reported a reading suggested by Pro־
fessor F. M. Cross and “virtually identical” with the Ugaritic
passage:
>מחצת< מצלות ים (אשבם בשן אשב)מנה
“I muzzled the Serpent, I muzzled him;
I smashed the Deep Sea”
II
7 La déesse cAnat (1938), p. 53; his transcription differs somewhat from that now
usual, and used by me in the rest of this article.
8 “Arabic” means North Arabic, as distinct from South Arabian.
UGARITIC AND HEBREW “SBM”? 391
that this is common; but at least it can easily be found in texts, e.g.
the famous poem of Kacb b. Zuhair, B a n a t S u ca d , which talks of
wine “mixed with a limpid cool stream of water” (b i- d h T s a b a m i n
m i n m a Di , literally “with that from water which possesses cool
ness”).9 In MutanabbI we find a phrase m a n q a l b u h u s a b im a “one
whose heart is cold.” 10 As far as I have been able to discover,
“coolness” must be regarded as the main extant and productive
sense in classical Arabic.
What then of the sense from which the meaning “to muzzle” for
Ugaritic has been derived? It seems clear that the basic form in
question is the noun s ib a m . Of it Lane says:
A piece of wood which is put crosswise in the mouth of a kid [and tied
behind its head . . .] in order that it may not suck its mother.11
The verb forms s a b a m a or s a b b a m a seem to be clearly denomi
native from this noun: they mean “he put the s ib a m upon the kid”.
The dictionaries offer also another sense for the noun s i b a m . To
quote Lane again, it is used of:
Two threads, or strings, attached to the [kind of face veil called]
by which the woman [draws and] binds [the two upper corners
b u r q u c,
of] it to the back of her head.
S - j
I ·X—*v j I 6—
'jib ^ ^
« J
“Man does not have any refuge from the assault of fate
which will avail him against the s ib a m of a she-kid.”
My colleague Dr J. D. Latham kindly suggests to me that the
last phrase might perhaps also be taken as “avail him as much as
the sibam of a she-kid”, i.e. “avail him to the slightest extent”. This
last would be a use analogous to the QurDanic use oji “t0
the extent of a grain”.17 ׳
This is an early and somewhat out of the way source. Further
usage in quotable sources I have not as yet been able to discover.
On the basis of the evidence here presented, it seems reasonable to
conclude that s-b-m with the sense of using a device to tie a kid’s
mouth belongs to a very narrow line indeed. It may indeed not be
a genuine Semitic word at all. It is certainly unquestionable that
the sense “coolness”, of water or of the heart, is much better
established. Moreover, as we have seen, there is no evidence to
support the idea that the semantics of s-b-m came close to muz
zling, i.e. that the semantic element of preventing a dangerous
animal from biting was basic to the meaning. On the contrary, if
one takes together the use for weaning a kid and that for the
16 See Lisän al-carab, xv, 210, line 2; on the poet see Brockelmann, Geschichte,
1. 21 f. On this aspect of Arabic indigenous lexicography see L. Kopf in V.T. vi
(1956), 296, and the writer’s Comparative Philology and the Text o f the Old
Testament, p. 118 [above], with citations from Kopf and Wild on this point.
17 QurDan iv. 44/ 40.
394 U G A R IT IC AND H EBREW “ SBM” ?
18 For the first two of these see M. Ullmann, etc., Wörterbuch der klassischen
arabischen Sprache: k-c-m, p. 235; kicäm “muzzle, strap”, p. 236; k-m-m, p. 343.
19 Virolleaud, ibid.
U G A R IT IC AND H EBREW “SBM”? 395
in
28 Babylonian Wisdom Literature (1960), pp. 24 f.; texts on pp. 56, 58. Professor
Lambert tells me that his arguments as then set out still seem to be convincing on
the basis of the evidence then available.
UGARITIC AND HEBREW “SBM”? 399
29 The question is not whether such anomalies occur, but whether their occur-
rence can be presumed when, as is here the case, the identification of the words in
question is exactly what is in dispute; this makes a world of difference from familiar
cases like the Hebrew כב ש/כ שב.
400 UGARITIC AND HEBREW “SBM”?
su (= k a t a m u “cover”), and synonym lists equate n a p s a m u with
k u lu lu , a head covering. The commentary to L u d l u l explicitly
explains n a p s a m u as m a - a k - s a - r u s a p i sTsi, a binding or covering
of the mouth of a horse.30 What Marduk did to the lion seems to
be something like putting a bag over its head.
This is important, because for any conclusions about the sense
of Ugaritic s b m we will probably have to start not from the derived
noun n a p s a m u in Akkadian but from the underlying verb, p a s a m u ,
etc. The idea of “muzzle”, i.e. of an action intended to prevent a
dangerous animal from biting, is not at all intrinsic to the verb.
Even of the noun n a p s a m u , as we have seen, this is also true: used
of a horse, which from the annotation of the commentary to
L u d l u l would seem to be the normal application, it means a cover,
which might have many other purposes than that of preventing
biting; only when applied, specifically and doubtless in a trans
ferred sense, to the lion does it explicitly come to be what we call a
muzzle. Of the verbs this is all the more true: their semantics
appear to contain no essential element of muzzling (to prevent
biting) or of fettering (to prevent movement); their essential seman
tic element is that of covering (to put out of sight), p u s s u m u is
used of a veiled woman—a goddess, a bride—and von Soden
considers that the verb p a s a m u might be a denominative from
p u s s u m u . p u s u m m u is a veil.31 p e s e n u also is “conceal, make
secret”.32
The possibility of establishing a close correspondence between
the root of Akkadian n a p s a m u and Ugaritic s b m has thus become
considerably less. Loewenstamm’s study neglected to consider the
probable semantic history of the Akkadian words; the striking
30 Von Soden, AHw, p. 7406, suggests a horse’s bit, “Gebiß des Pferdezaums”,
but his earlier explanation, “vielleicht eine Art ‘Maulkorb’”, Orientalia xx (1951),
268, is surely better, as Professor Lambert assures me. In general, the constraint of
the mouth of animals in the ancient world seems mostly to have had the purpose
not of muzzling in our sense, i.e. preventing the biting of people, but rather the
purpose of preventing the eating of grass, etc., and the concomitant distraction of
the animal from its work. Thus in the Hebrew law, Deut. xxv. 4, the owner would
naturally wish to constrain the ox because (a) it would eat the very product it is
being used to produce, (6) this eating would reduce its efficiency in this work. Such
constraint is however forbidden by the biblical law.
31 AHw, pp. 8826, 883a, 838a. Cf. the note in Orientalia xx, 267 ff., which takes
it as manifest that the basic sense is “veil”, verschleiern.
32 AHw, p. 8566. Cf. Landsberger, Z.A. xli (1933), 220: “psn, das auch in den
Spielformen psm und psn erscheint, bedeutet eigentlich ‘mit einem Schleier
bedecken’ this note is on pasTru “secret” and related words.
UGARITIC AND HEBREW “SBM”? 401
similarity of the end product n a p s a m u , as applied in the L u d l u l
text, to the sense already conjectured for Ugaritic s b m (on the
basis of Arabic) was taken as sufficient. But as soon as it is seen
that the Akkadian root means something different, the correla
tion becomes more precarious; and the phonological peculiarities
involved in it, which might have been brushed aside when the
semantic equation was a close one, come to appear more serious.
Moreover, we have incidentally seen that the Akkadian word-
group in question occurs with a considerable variety of root letters,
and therefore it is by no means simple to search for the true
Semitic cognates: we have to look at the sequences p s m 9p s n 9p s n ,
p s m . This brings us to the question, what forms can be cited from
any other Semitic language that correspond to the Akkadian
p a s a m u (or variants)—apart from the isolated case of Ugaritic
s b m , which is just what is now in question. The nearest I have
found is the Ethiopian (Gecez) f a d a m a (Dillmann, 1391), meaning
“to obstruct, block up (a road)” and used in a transferred sense of
“to reduce to silence”. It is in fact used—surely by a great
coincidence—of Jesus’ “stopping up the mouths of” the Sadducees
in Matt. xxii. 34, where the Greek has ecpipcoae, originally of
course “he muzzled, he stopped up”. But I do not seriously think
that this is closely related, except in so far as we come to depend
on hypotheses of how all· words beginning with p have some
meaning element in common, and the like. Is there real evidence
that any cognates of p - s - m existed in Semitic outside of Akkadian?
The Akkadian evidence, then, does not after all provide any
corroboration for the application to Ugaritic s b m of the sense
“muzzle”, itself based as we have seen on very weak evidence from
Arabic. And Loewenstamm himself, as we have seen, began his
note by remarking on the apparent intrinsic weakness of this sense
for the Ugaritic context itself.
IV
Is there then any other direction in which we may look tor the
identification of Ugaritic s b m l
First, a phonological point: Ugaritic s has a normal correspon
dence with both s in and s h in in Hebrew, s h in and s in respectively
in Arabic, so that cognates with either could be considered.33 It
41 Aharoni, The Land o f the Bible, p. 98: “names related to water sources
are . . . widespread”.
42 Comm, on Isa. xvi. 8 (Corpus Christianorum, lxxiii; Turnhout, 1963), p. 181.
43 Interp. Hebr. Nom. (Corpus Christianorum, lxxii; Turnhout, 1959), p. 122.
44 I add in a note this additional point: Sibmah in the Bible is mentioned as a
place of vines (Isa. xvi. 8 f.; Jer. xlviii. 32), indeed this is the only association of it
which we know. Now S. Fraenkel, Die aramäischen Fremdwörter im Arabischen,
p. 154 n., says that the Arabic place name probably originally meant
“vine” = Syr. sbmD. If this information about the Syriac is correct, then the Hebrew
place name may simply mean “(place of) vines”. But I have not found any trace of a
Syriac sbmDwith the sense of “vines”.
45 J. H. Greenberg, “The Patterning of Root Morphemes in Semitic”, Word vi
(1950), 162-81.
UGARITIC AND HEBREW “SBM”? 405
noun ;יבםand the place name שבמהmay be considered in the same
way, as a basic noun. But it is hard to consider the South Arabian
s-b-m as other than a true original verb.
A second consideration is the possibility that a form like the
Ugaritic sbm might be a s-causative; in the form Pistbm one would
then have either a root t-b-m or more probably a verb with prefix
Dist -. The root might be b-m , b-w -m or b-m -m , or something like
these. One thinks, for instance, of the well-known Hebrew במה
“high place” and cognates, apparently from a root b-w -m but with
no verb existing.46 (The argument now has nothing to do with
Jerome’s etymology of Sibmah, mentioned above.) Could sbm
conceivably be such a form?
The question may perhaps fall into two parts. One possibility is
what we may call a productive s-causative, i.e. a word where a
causative may be formed by a standard grammatical transforma-
tion, like the formation of a hiphil in Hebrew. The other is the
possibility that at a previous stage of the linguistic history a root
something like b-m has had a s-causative and that this has eventu-
ally passed over into the state of a normal qal with the three
radicals s-b-m , being thus transferred from the grammatical to the
lexical side of the language. This would be like the case of (say)
שקץ, if such a theory of this and like words is accepted.47
One implication of any idea involving a s-causative should be
observed. Theoretically, the s-causative is perfectly possible for the
Ugaritic sbm . It would of course rule out completely any con-
nection with Akkadian pa sd m u , napsam u ; but we have already
more or less ruled that out on other grounds. More important, it
would rule out the connection with South Arabian s-b -m : the
sibilant in this South Arabian word is s 2, which corresponds
etymologically to Hebrew sin , while the causative prefix is 51׳,
which corresponds to Hebrew sin.A%Thus, while the Ugaritic sbm
could, so far as is determined by the sibilant, be a causative, this is
not a possible interpretation of the South Arabian. The same
v
We are now in a position to look again at the Ugaritic evidence
itself. The relevant passages appear to be three, since we shall leave
aside the passage CTA 3, B, col. ii, line 16, which does include the
sequence sb m , but where it may probably be taken as from sb “old
man” or the like.49 The text there is:
mtm. tgrs
sbm. bksl. qsth. mdnt.
If this may be left aside, we turn to our three passages:
A. CTA 3, D, col. iii, line 37 (p. 17); UT, cnt III: 37
This is the passage already cited at the beginning of our present
article: I cite it again with a slightly fuller text.
34 mn. Dib. y p c. lbcl. srt
Irkb. crpt. Imhst. m dd
Dil ym. Iklt. nhr. Dil. rbm
37 Pistbm. tnn. Distmlh
mhst. bin. cqltn
slyt. d. sbct. rDasm
The important line 37 has several textual questions in it:
(a) The second n of tnn is not clear; but the reading tnn is
hardly to be doubted.
(b) The reading of the second verb, here printed as Distmlh
following Herdner, is pronounced by her as “très incertaine”.
Virolleaud had suggested a tentative Dis b m (l)n (l)h .50
VI
53 Von Soden, G rundriß der akkadisch en G ram m atik , §92e, p. 121; cf. A H w ,
p. 208a.
54 As has been seen, if one is really to work from North Arabic the search must
basically be directed towards a sense connected with coolness of water or the like;
but it is difficult to make sense of the Ugaritic on this basis.
55 Dahood, U garitic-H ebrew P h ilology (Rome, 1965), p. 20.
410 UGARITIC AND HEBREW “SBM”?
call it “meaningless”. The problems of its meaning are not lin-
guistic ones in the strict sense; all the terms used are familiar and
normal ones, which furnish acceptable sense when taken as they
are customarily taken in Hebrew. The problem is not an intrinsic
linguistic difficulty, such as can be found in many biblical passages.
It is rather one of {a) ambiguity, and (b ) context. Does “bring
back” refer to a saving action, a bringing back from danger, or to a
punishing action, a bringing back from escape in order to face
retribution? Is basan the place Bashan, or is it the word for a snake
or dragon? If the place Bashan, what are the associations intended
here, and what are the relations then with the “depths of the sea”?
Who or what is the object of the “bringing back”?
It is at least a probable filling out of the linguistic bones of the
verse if we suppose that the persons brought back are the enemies
of God, mentioned in the previous verse, their blood to be spilt in
the following one; the basan is the mountain of Bashan, quite
likely to be identical with Hermon, and in any case twice spe־
cifically mentioned in the nearby v. 16 as “the mountain of God”.
The two places in the verse represent the utmost height and the
deepest abyss.56 The thought has some analogies with Ps. cxxxix. 8,
where also it concerns a flight from God, though not the flight of
an enemy of God: God’s hand will grasp him wherever he is. It is
not necessary however to insist on this interpretation, which is one
among several that could be given.
No more, in any case, needs to be said about the Psalms passage.
Let it be observed only that this argument has nothing to do with a
defence of the traditional understanding of the Hebrew as against a
meaning suggested on the basis of the Ugaritic. On the contrary, it
is the sense of the Ugaritic itself that is in question. The sense
“muzzle”, though widely accepted for Ugaritic, was, it seems, never
established on a thoroughly sound intra-Ugaritic basis and never
thoroughly researched for its probable traces throughout the Semi-
tic languages. The sense “muzzle”, far from being established on
All this adds up to the same thing: though there are differences
in form, agreeing with the normal correspondences between vari
ous languages of the Semitic family, plenty of them have a word
that provides a more or less complete formal correspondence with
Hebrew Dozen, and all of them, amazingly, mean ‘ear’. Once again
7 The legend DISO 5 in the second line should be DISO 6. The reference is to
Jean and Hoftijzer’s standard Dictionnaire des inscriptions sémitiques de l’ouest
(Leiden: Brill, 1965). As in the previous citation from WB, the abbreviations stand
mainly for various Semitic languages and dialects. The only one that may surprise
the reader is ‘pehl.’. This refers to the use of an Aramaic form as an ideogram in the
writing of Pehlevi: though such ideograms function within Pehlevi language, their
existence gives evidence of usage and meaning within Aramaic, from which they
were taken.
L IM IT A T IO N S O F ETY M O L O G Y 419
the etymological correspondence is totally convincing, but it
remains otiose: there is no gap in our organization and under
standing of the Hebrew lexical stock that is filled up by it. Actually,
the most valuable service that this information furnishes is not
lexical at all but phonological: precisely because the meaning of all
these words is so clearly identical, so that there is no doubt that in
that sense they are ‘all the same word’, they—along with a host of
other such pieces of evidence—provide good demonstration of the
normal phonological correspondences between members of the
Semitic family, for instance, good exemplification of the fact that,
where Arabic has dh (d ), Hebrew normally has z and Aramaic has
d. This is important and has certain lexical implications, and
indeed the Hebrew lexicon cannot be intelligently used by the
reader who does not know that these correspondences are normal;
but in itself it is not lexical information, applicable to the word
‘ear’ or indeed to any word any more than any other word. About
the word ‘ear’ in particular it tells us nothing.
Why then is all this information here at all? Partly it comes from
a desire for consistency: perhaps in some other word something
important and necessary will be disclosed through the citation of
the Mandaean form or of the form implied by the Pehlevi ideo
grams, and therefore these forms must be cited in every case where
they are known. In part it comes from a compilation concept of
scholarship: the task is to gather the material from other dic
tionaries and put it into this one. Instead of classifying the material
and separating out what is significant, everything is put in. No one
can seriously suppose that the citation of half a dozen or so
different forms of Aramaic/Syriac makes any difference to our
understanding of this Hebrew word. Moreover, the compilatory
conception of lexicography has the further disadvantage that it is
insatiable and unfulfillable. If Iraqi Arabic is to be specially men
tioned, what about Egyptian, and if it, what about Moroccan? If
among Ethiopian languages Tigre is to be specially cited, then
what about Tigrinya and Amharic?8 What about Socotri and the
8 In fact the reasons for the preferences shown in WB are often practical: that is,
where languages (or dialects) have a modern dictionary or glossary, easily accessible
and usable—and especially if in the German language—then they are more likely to
receive attention. Thus Tigre is favoured because of the excellent and convenient
work of E. Littmann and Maria Höfner, Wörterbuch der Tigre-Sprache (Wies
baden: Steiner, 1962).
420 L IM IT A T IO N S O F E TY M O LO G Y
South Arabian languages? Moreover, among the many dialects and
languages listed as having a cognate to the word for ‘ear’, are there
any which, in addition to it, have a term of some other meaning
which nevertheless appears to belong to the same root lexeme and
which therefore might suggest something about pre-Hebrew devel
opments of meaning?9 However, our purpose here is not to criticize
this carefully compiled list for its inadequacy or for omissions of
material which ought to be in it if it is to be so lengthy anyway.
Our purpose is rather to indicate that, assuming the adequacy and
correctness of the impression given by this section of the dictionary
entry, it still does not tell us anything about the Hebrew word
for ‘ear’.
Now it can easily be said that, while etymology is rather unim
portant for the understanding of well-known and well-established
words such as this one, there are many words that are rare or
poorly evidenced for which etymology may be our only way of
finding a meaning. And as a general statement I do not dispute
this; but as a matter of practical experience I am more doubtful
about it than I used to be. What surprised me in my work on the
Hebrew dictionary was the considerable number of words, some of
them rare words, or doubtful words, some of them hapax legomena,
but also some of them quite basic and frequent words, for which
we gain very little guidance, or only very ambiguous guidance,
from the consideration of possibly cognate words in other Semitic
languages; and yet few of the words I have in mind are words of
which one might reasonably postulate origin as loanwords from
outside Semitic. Again and again we find that either there is no
word formally cognate, or that the senses are so remote that no
useful etymological contact can be made.
9 The most obvious such term, as applied to this particular entry, is the wide
spread group of words like Arabic Didhn ‘permission, authorization’, with which is
connected the form familiar in English as muezzin ‘one who calls to prayer’. The
question whether this group forms the same basic lexeme with the words meaning
‘ear’ is obviously relevant for the lexical understanding of both; but the WB entry
gives the dictionary user no hint of these facts. Contrast Cohen, p. 10. The
relevance of this for ancient times and the neighbourhood of ancient Hebrew
culture is indicated by the presence in ancient South Arabic of meanings like
‘obedientia, iussum’ and ‘permisit, licitum fecit’ attaching to this root: see. K. Conti
Rossini, Chrestomathia Arabica Meridionalis Epigraphica (Rome: Istituto per
l’Oriente, 1931), p. 100.
L IM IT A T IO N S O F E T Y M O L O G Y 421
10 Another option, indeed, is to say that Ded is indeed derived from the Meso
potamian culture but represents not the Akkadian edu, for the reasons just out
lined, but the Sumerian id from which it is said to be derived and which commonly
means ‘river’, being translated into Akkadian as naru with this meaning. The
Hebrew would then be derived directly from the Sumerian. This, while quite
possible purely linguistically, runs into the difficulty which will be mentioned below:
if it was a river, why did it not irrigate the soil?
422 L IM IT A T IO N S O F ETY M O L O G Y
It is indeed possible to go in another direction and understand
the word in the traditional sense as ‘mist’, the sense already familiar
to readers of the Authorized Version. But this would mean a
departure from all connection with Akkadian edu. The advantage
of this course is that it provides a good connection with another
known Hebrew word, the homonymic Ded of Job 36. 27, yazoqqu
mdtar le-Dedd. Though the exact relation of the elements here is not
clear, it is certain that the context is meteorological: we have terms
for ‘drops of water’, ‘rain’, ‘clouds’ and ‘drip’ all in the same pair of
lines. Perhaps the reference is, as Dhorme suggested, to water
droplets volatilized (verb z-q-q) ‘to become his mist’. It is, indeed,
precisely this passage that caused traditional sources to understand
the Gen. 2. 6 passage as ‘mist’ from the beginning.11
If we look at it in this way, we have only the one word for these
two passages, for it is hardly possible to suppose with Speiser that
the Akkadian edu is the parent also of the instance in Job.12 But if
our one word is the word ‘mist’ known from Job, it has no known
Semitic or other etymology anyway. It is probably better to have
two examples of one word, both meaning ‘mist’, and to admit that
there is no etymological information at all, than to have two
different Hebrew words Ded, each occurring only once, and one of
them related to the Akkadian word and meaning floods of water
from under the earth while the other means ‘mist’ but has no
etymology at all.
Even, however, if we count this as only one word, occurring
twice, we have also to reckon with the homophonic Ded, spelt with
yod, D-y-d, the meaning of which is well exampled and well known:
it means ‘calamity’. It is a question whether for this we have any
convincing etymology either. Traditional works cite the Arabic
root D-w-d with the sense either of ‘bend’ or of ‘burden, oppress’,
but the most that could be said for this is that it is a conceivable
speculation. The fact that the word, which occurs over twenty
11 Among the ancient translations of the Bible, the Greek (Septuagint) translated
the word at Gen. 2. 6 as πηγή ‘fountain, spring’, and the same was done by the
Syriac and the Vulgate; the Targums (Jewish versions in Aramaic) translated rather
as ‘cloud, mist’.
12 Speiser, Genesis (Anchor Bible: New York: Doubleday, 1964), p. 16. He seems
to agree that the case in Job does mean mist ‘or the like’, but thinks that this ‘need
signify no more than the eventual literary application of’ the rare word for ‘an
underground swell’. This is very difficult to accept.
L IM IT A T IO N S O F E TY M O LO G Y 423
times in the Bible, is always spelled with yod may probably indi
cate that it does indeed come from a root like D-y-d or D-w-d, and
thus belongs very likely to a different word type from our previous
Ded ‘mist’ (or whatever it is). Cohen relates it to an Arabic word
meaning ‘calamity’ and cited by him as muDyTd.u If this is valid, it
means there is a good Arabic parallel to our word, even if the
derivation from a root lexeme is as vague and uncertain in the
Arabic as it would have been in the Hebrew if we had had no
Arabic. In any case, though we do (if these facts are correct) have
some comparative and etymological information about our word,
we do not as a result know anything more about it than was
already manifest from the contexts in the biblical literature.
Another remark should be added about our Ded which came up
from the earth and moistened the surface of the ground. In a
language like biblical Hebrew, and in the case of rare words of this
kind, literary questions are relevant and one cannot proceed purely
linguistically. What is the sequence of thought in Gen. 2. 5- 6?
There was, we are told, no vegetation in the world: it was a dry
world, in which God had as yet sent no rain. But then, it tells us,
an Ded used to go up and used to wet the surface of the ground. It
is not easy to make good sense of this in the context. If the Ded was
some kind of spring or groundwater, welling up from underground
sources, it would surely have provided some irrigation, enough for
plants to grow. But according to the story it did not. Might this
perhaps fit with the idea that it was after all a mist? There was a
vapour which rose from the ground, it damped the surface, but it
did not provide enough water for the plants to grow. It only
damped the surface, perhaps thus making the earth pliable for God
to fashion man out of the soil (Ccipar, traditionally glossed as ‘dust’,
is not necessarily dry like our ‘dust’, it is often more like soil).
Admittedly this explanation is far from perfect: even the damping
of the earth by mist would probably be enough to sustain plant
life. Perhaps the writer discounted the irrigative value of mist: for
him only rain was enough to sustain proper plant life, and espe
cially a garden. If, however, we cannot go this way, and if the
explanation as ‘mist’ is impossible, then perhaps we have to say
that the piece about the Ded is a fragment, perhaps from some
previous legend, quite out of context in the present story. If this
13 Cohen, p. 16.
424 L IM IT A T IO N S O F ETY M O L O G Y
were so, then of course it could be a great wave or onrush of water
like the Akkadian edit. Indeed some of those who have followed
that explanation and considered that it was a flood of groundwater
or the like have—when they have been careful and observant
enough—come to the conclusion that this is so, and that the
sentence in question has no proper context in Genesis at all.14
Then, of course, it could mean anything. But that must, I think,
count as a very negative and desperate conclusion.
Let us move to another example: take the Hebrew word Degrop.
Exod. 21. 18 is a law about quarrelling. If a man strikes another
man with a stone or with a/the Degrop, then certain consequences
follow. The traditional sense is ‘fist’; but there is also a long
tradition of interpretation as an implement: a shovel, spade or the
like, even a broom. The NEB goes in this direction: ‘i f . . . one hits
another with a stone or with a spade’ (adding ‘or fist’ in the
margin). One reason for this preference lay in inner-Hebrew
etymology: the verb garap means ‘sweep’ or the like, and the noun
magrepa, surely derived from it, is a shovel. The etymological
sense, seeking to bring these together, tended to make Degrop into
the same sort of thing, hence a broom, shovel or spade.15 But lately
opinion has swung, perhaps decisively, back towards the fist: for
the Zadokite Document, discovered early this century, includes a
law that a man must not raise his hand to strike a beast with a/the
Degrop on the Sabbath. Since it was forbidden to carry any imple
ment on the Sabbath in any case, the law must mean that it was
forbidden to strike without an implement, i.e. with the fist. This is
CD 11. 6; cf. Rabin’s note.16 But, if the term really means a fist,
then there is no clear or meaningful connection with g-r-p ‘sweep’.
The distance one has to go to find an etymology is well shown by
Rabin himself, who, deciding for the sense ‘fist’, offers as compari
sons the Socotri grff ‘courber’ (i.e. ‘to bend, to crook’) and the
Amharic gdrfaffa ‘obese’. Such comparisons, however, are so
extremely remote—in time, in linguistic geography, and in mean
ing (plus, in the case of the second of the two words, the fact that
the word seems not to exist at all)17—as to constitute a clear
admission that we know of no etymology at all. If Degrop means
‘fist’, as seems very probable, there is no more to be done than to
say that this is the meaning and that no connections of significance
with words anywhere else are known.
These are not isolated examples: this happens again and again.
Take the words Dakzar, Dakzdrl, DakzarTyut, tolerably well-evidenced
words, understood to mean ‘cruel’ and ‘cruelty’. There are a dozen
or so cases in the Bible plus some in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Usage
and meaning are fairly clear; but the fact is that we have no
etymology to offer for this word, there seems to be just no sub
stantial cognate evidence.
The same happens with the fairly common word Deden, which
designated a sort of base or socket, upon which were set the planks
or pillars of the Mosaic tabernacle. It has been customary to
connect this with Akkadian adattu which, in turn, was supposed to
mean ‘nest’ or ‘resting-place’.18 But the CAD (A, p. 110) now
makes it clear that adattu does not mean ‘nest’ or anything similar:
it is a succulent part of a reed, used for fodder, and it is irrelevant
to our Hebrew word on semantic grounds. The meaning is clear
but there is simply no significant etymological material.
I stressed in my preliminary remarks that much etymological
study in Hebrew is essentially linked with inner-Hebrew lexical
relations, which it is used to clarify. Often however this does not
16 Ch. Rabin, The Zadokite Documents (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1954), p. 55,
note 2 on verse 6.
17 The Socotri word is quoted after W. Leslau, Lexique soqotri, p. 116, but I
think the supposed Amharic word is quoted in error. It does not occur in any
dictionary, including the Amharic-Amharic ones. I consulted the late Stefan
Strelcyn, F.B.A., about this and he wrote to me to say ‘I do not know this word’
(letter of 12 June 1979).
18 E.g. WB, p. 16a.
426 L IM IT A T IO N S O F ETY M O L O G Y
work. A good example lies in the word (or words) Dob. On the one
hand we have a clear case meaning ‘wineskins’ in Job 32. 19; it
seems to be agreed that this is some sort of skin or leather bottle. It
occurs only here. But we also have the familiar Dob that brings us
into the world of ghosts and necromancy. The word appears to be
used both for the ghost and for the necromancer, the one who
divined or consulted through the ghosts of the dead. The famous
Witch of Endor was such a one, an Deset bacalat Dob, a woman who
possessed an Dob. Now does this pair of words belong together or
not? And, in either case, what sort of comparative information can
be found? For the first Dob, the skin bottle, no one seems to have
any cognate evidence to put forward. For the second word, the one
in the world of ghosts, several comparative suggestions have been
put forward, of which I will at this point mention three. Firstly,
some have thought of a connection with an Arabic Daba ‘return’;
but I find no probability in this, for it seems to be suggested by the
modern French revenant ‘ghost’ which, if confirmed, would be
an interesting parallel but in itself hardly constitutes evidence.
Secondly, Rabin has pointed to an api ‘sacrificial pit’ in Hittite,
surely an extremely remote suggestion, being phonologically not
very close, semantically quite distant, and unlikely in principle
since there are no features of the relevant passages that suggest
reasons why a Hittite term should be used. Thirdly, some have
pointed to the Ugaritic name or term DelDeb; for instance, so
Albright. But this again is unlikely: it has nothing necessarily to do
with ghosts, it is more likely to be connected with the moon, cf. the
Ugaritic nkl wDeb (also Akkadian epithets of the god Sin). Thus
the extra-Hebrew evidence suggests the conclusion that the ety
mology is unknown.
Can we, however, see a sort of inner-Hebrew etymology, in
other words can Dob ‘ghost’ be somehow explained on the basis of
Dob ‘leathern bottle’? One such argument came from the distin
guished Semitist Nöldeke, who pointed out the similarity between
two words in different Semitic languages, a Syriac zakkürä ‘ghost
called up from the dead’ and an Arabic zukra ‘small bag, wine
skin’.19 The argument goes thus: the bag of skin has a common
19 Nöldeke pointed out this similarity but I am not sure just how much of the
following argument was intended by him. His note on the matter, in Zeitschrift der
Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft 28, 1874, 667 n., is really a marginal note
and principally on another subject.
L IM IT A T IO N S O F ETY M O L O G Y 427
semantic element with the stomach, and the calling up of the ghost
is connected with ventriloquism; the Septuagint quite frequently
used έγγαστρίμυθος for Hebrew Dob. If there is a connection
between two words with radical consonants z-k-r, the one meaning
a skin bottle or bag, the other a ghost, even if these are not in the
same language, we can therefore suppose that the two meanings of
Hebrew Dob are similarly related.
Philologically, however, this line of reasoning will not hold
together. There is no reason on the basis of the Hebrew, as apart
from the Septuagint, to suppose that ventriloquism came into the
matter at all; and even the LXX έγγαστρίμυθος probably did not
specify ventriloquism but meant only the general sense of ‘person
who delivers oracles through supernatural and magical means’.20
Philologically also, Syriac zakkura surely came from the Akkadian
zakaru with the sense ‘call upon, call up’, but Arabic zukra ‘bag’
can hardly come from the same root, since that would have had
the consonants dh-k-r in Arabic.21 In the end, therefore, we find
that this argument does not give us an analogy that will establish a
relation between the two senses in Hebrew as if they came from
one common meaning. We therefore have to register two separate
words Dob in Hebrew and accept that the etymology of both is
unknown.
It would be tedious to multiply examples, but here is another of
the same general type. Hebrew has a word DagappTm, plural, used
only by Ezekiel; I think it means ‘troops’. We also have, once, in
the Dead Sea Hodayot an instance which seems quite clearly to
mean the banks of a river: ‘the streams of Belial go over all the
lofty banks’ (1QH 3. 29). Here then are two similar, yet sharply
differentiated, words in Hebrew: does etymology help us to dis
criminate between the two? No, it does not; on the contrary, far
from helping us to discriminate between the two, it does not tell us
anything about either. For the word meaning ‘troops’ the classical
etymological approach has been simple: the word comes from, or
is cognate with, the Akkadian agappu, Aramaic D-g-p ‘wing’; and
originally this was the ‘wing’ of an army, hence troops in general,
20 The term was used in Greek primarily of persons who delivered oracles
through this form of speech; the spread of its use in the Greek Bible suggests that
the reference was not to the mode of speech but to the general associations of
theurgy and necromancy.
21 See Brockelmann, Lexicon Syriacum, p. 196b.
428 L IM IT A T IO N S O F ETY M O LO G Y
and cf. Latin ala as a unit of cavalry. But all along the line this
fails to work. The Akkadian word is kappu and agappu is a less
common variant spelling. Moreover, kappu is the wing of a bird, it
is the arm or hand, the lobe of a lung, a part of a horse’s bit, and
the region of the eyebrow and eyelids, but nowhere does it have the
slightest thing to do with armies, although armies are very well
represented in Akkadian texts. There is not the slightest hint that
Akkadian kappu is relevant: of course it could be relevant, but
there is not the slightest positive evidence for it. Similarly, on the
Hebrew side there is no trace of any meaning like ‘wings’ or ‘flanks’
or ‘different sides’ of an army: the Ezekiel text gives us no ground
to think of any other than the general meaning ‘troops’. As for the
other case in the Hodayot, the sense ‘river bank’ is clear there and
also later, in the Talmud, but there is no trace of a connection with
the Akkadian kappu nor indeed, so far as I know, with any other
term.22
Here is a case of another kind, where an etymology can easily be
found but there is reason to suppose that the word will not fit into
it. At I Sam. 2. 36 one speaks of doing something for an Dagdra of
money/silver and a piece of bread. It has been customary to attach
this word Dagdra, which occurs only here in the Bible, to the
familiar Akkadian agaru and related Aramaic words, all meaning
‘hire’. Thus we have a line of authorities who say that it is a ‘fee’, a
‘payment’, of money. The other opinion, which seems to be better
based, is that this is not a word for a ‘fee’ but a word for a tiny
monetary unit. This is the way in which the ancient versions took
it: LXX οβολός, Targum meca, Vulgate nummus. The point is
lost if we take it as ‘fee’: what goes with the small piece of bread is
the very small monetary unit. Modern Israel, in reusing Dagora for
a very small coin of its currency, is correctly following the sense.
But the consequence is that, having gained a sense, we have lost
our etymology; for, if the word means a particular and very small
monetary unit, we cannot so easily derive it from a word meaning
‘hire’. Thus, though we have available a good Semitic root, it may
be that the etymology is unknown. Or, on the other hand, if we
22 WB, p. 1la rightly observes the absence of a military use comparable with that
of Latin ala, and prefers therefore to look in the direction of an affinity with Arabic
juff, jaff \ said to mean a company or body of people. One must, however, be wary
of this also, since the common meaning of this Arabic root is ‘dry’.
L IM IT A T IO N S O F ETY M O L O G Y 429
23 The series of supposedly analogical cases set out by Palache, Semantic Notes
on the Hebrew Lexicon (Leiden: Brill, 1959), p. 10, and requoted by WB, p. 104a,
Cohen, p. 42b, is a good illustration of the quite dubious etymologies that can be
conjured up in the endeavour to demonstrate such a logical connection on a lin
guistic level.
L IM IT A T IO N S O F E TY M O LO G Y 431
Baumgartner, WB, p. 259b, is doubtless wise in entering ‘Etym.
ign\ Schottroff similarly says that there is absolutely no Anhalts-
punkt for the establishment of a connection between the two
words, quoting also Fronzaroli.24
Another prominent example of the same kind is expressed in
Hebrew by the verb gâlâ, which has two conspicuously separated
meanings: firstly, ‘uncover’ or ‘reveal’, and, secondly, ‘go into exile’.
If we turn to comparative methods to elucidate this, what do we
find? In Arabic, exactly the same thing as in Hebrew; and in other
Semitic languages the meanings appear to group themselves either
with one or with the other or with both, but nowhere furnish a
bridge between the two. In fact, as far as etymological guidance
takes us, the two are so sharply distinct that it would be perfectly
reasonable to distinguish them as two quite distinct (though
homophonous and homographie) verbs: semantically, for instance,
they are much farther apart than the cânâ ‘answer’ and the cânâ
‘sing’ which we distinguished before. It is very doubtful whether
lexicographers have done wisely in maintaining gâlâ as one single
but polysémie verb. There is no possibility of making a unitary
statement about it on this basis.25 The fact that they have tried to
do so is evidence, if any were needed, that formal and comparative
evidence has counted for more in the lexicographical tradition than
semantic indications for determining the organization of material
in the lexicon.
Thus, whether with common and central terms like beged and
gâlâ, or with rare terms and hapax legomena, the intransigent fact
remains that many words, and relations between words, which in
the past have been obscure remain so today in spite of the atten
tion given to etymological explanations. In Ezek. 21. 20 God says:
T have put the Dibhâ of the sword against all their gates’. Con
textually all sorts of things could fit here: it could be the flash of
the sword, the whirr or noise of the sword, the face of the sword,
the edge of the sword, the violence of the sword, the danger of the
makes good sense and has partial analogy with common terms like
the Greek κόπτεσθαι. But so far as I can see there is no evidence in
any of these languages that the beating of the breast was the
specific meaning. In Greek κόπτω was a common term for any
kind of beating, but this is imply not true of s-p-d. The idea that
this was the meaning may well have arisen from Hebrew itself, and
there from a rather obscure passage, Isa. 32. 12, which has the
collocation cal-sadayim sopedTm, commonly taken as ‘beat the
breast’. But it is very doubtful if this is a right construction here,
and whether it can really suffice to validate supposition that s-p-d
ever means ‘strike’ in any sense.27 The only major evidence which
shows it to be other than merely ‘mourn, lament’ is the Syriac, and
here it seems to mean something more like ‘fear, tremble’; and this,
if right, suggests a quite different etymological direction.
The uncertainty of etymological research, which is implied in
much of the foregoing, is of course no new observation. Meillet in
his work on Greek remarks that ‘non-specialists are often not
sufficiently aware that, for every certain etymology, the dictionaries
offer ten that are doubtful’, and he adds that ‘there is only a small
number of Greek words of which Indo-European offers a certain
etymology’.281 do not know whether this is still the opinion among
Greek linguists. In any case it is worthy of note that Meillet
connected these remarks with observations on the importance of
loanwords from outside Greek, i.e. from non-Indo-European lan
guages of the environment. In Hebrew also there are such loan
words, and indeed there may be more of them than we are aware.