One might be prompted to ask, at this juncture, how the observations from this discussion relate to the dominance of narratives of religions deemed monotheistic noted in the last chapter? If, in the 21^stcentury, the majority of the global population lives in settled agriculturalist societies and belongs to religious deemed monotheistic, does this not suggest a correlation between these categories? Norenzayan’s argument in Big Gods would seem to agree. However, as noted above, the answer to this question appears to lie in the three types of mobility identified in the last chapter: social, geographic, and chronological. The fact that these categories (“settled agriculturalist societies” and “religions deemed monotheistic”) are connected in the modern world speaks to the power of mobility in spreading these religions across physical and cultural borders to “outcompete” other religions (often religions deemed polytheistic). With regard to Judaism and Zoroastrianism, respectively, the last chapter suggested the importance of the spread and survival of YHWH and Ahura Mazda, across time and space, to the identities of adherents in the modern world. It seems that the modern iterations of YHWH-worship and Mazda-worship were developed in the process of spreading. The epigraphic evidence for these names would suggest religions that seem to have historically “come out of nowhere.” Although this chapter argues that these religions originated in mobile pastoralist societies, it does not suggest that all mobile peoples developed or adhere to religions deemed monotheistic. Furthermore, the same argument cannot be made for all other religions deemed monotheistic: despite the undeniable influences of Judaism and Zoroastrianism on the development of Christianity, this religion was very clearly a product of the settled agriculturalist Roman empire.¹ What evidence supports a claim that the religions of YHWH and Ahura Mazda originated in mobile pastoralist societies?

The most significant evidence for mobile origins is, in fact, the near complete absence of evidence. Despite the general discomfort of historians with so-called “arguments from silence” in the case of archaeological evidence, such absences can be compelling. With regard to these particular religious communities, the silence is rather deafening. The evidence that does exist appears to point to social contexts that are in various ways “other” than the kinds of settled agriculturalist “civilizations” of the ancient Near and Middle East. Recall the association of a name related to the Tetragrammaton with the Shasu in inscriptions at Amara West and Soleb. At the most, these nebulous attestations point to the potential connection between this name and any number of the mobile people in and outside of Egyptian political boundaries. The difficulty of interpreting the meager archaeological evidence found is apparent in the well-established “necessity” of using either the Hebrew or Old Avestan texts as a framework for “piecing it together.” Further complicating the situation is the fact that the social, or “ethnic,” identities of these communities are understood to be separate from the religion. 

The worship of Ahura Mazda happens to be the religion of the Aryans, according to the Old Avestan texts, but by the time of Darius I, it appears that the worship spread beyond the “ethnic” boundaries of self-identified Aryans. Thus, an investigation of the historical origins of Mazda-worship must include a search for both “Ahura Mazda” and “Aryans,” as well as a connection between the two.² Outside of the Old Avestan texts, this connection appears in the inscriptions of the Achaemenid king Darius I. Texts from the fortifications at Susa include the following lines: “A great is Auramazda, who created this earth, who created yonder sky, who created man, who created happiness for man, who made Darius king, one king of many, on lord of many./ I (am) Darius, great king, king of kings, king of countries, king on this great earth far and wide, son of Hystaspes, an Achaemenid, a Persian, son of a Persian, an Aryan, of Aryan lineage.”³ The Old Avestan texts offer support of assuming a mobile pastoralist social context in primarily two ways: first, in the linguistic relationship of the Old Avestan to Old Indic, (proto-) Indo-Iranian, and (proto-) Indo-European; second, in the pastoral language of the Old Avestan texts.

The linguistic relationship between Old Avestan and Old Indic, outlined in the last chapter, has served philologists in efforts to reconstruct a parent language, (proto-) Indo-Iranian, as well as the older (proto-) Indo-European language, from which Indo-Iranian developed. One benefit of the comparative methods by which these dead languages have been hypothesized is the suggestion of vocabularies that hint at conceptual realities for speakers.⁴ An example, given by Anthony, are words related to “wheel” that suggest the invention of the concept among (proto-) Indo-European speakers. He writes, “The meaning of wheel is given additional support by the fact that it has an Indo-European etymology…It was a word created from another Indo-European root. That root *k^wel-, a verb that meant ‘to turn.’ So *k^wék^wlos [wheel] is not just a random string of phonemes reconstructed from the cognates for wheel; it meant ‘the thing that turn.’”⁵ The picture painted by the reconstruction of (proto-) Indo-European appears to be one of mixed subsistence strategies and technological innovations, like the wheel, that facilitated movement in the western Eurasian steppe.⁶

The spread of Indo-European languages across the Eurasian land mass speaks, in part, to the mobility of the societies that spoke (proto-) Indo-European. Out of this social context, in the central and eastern steppe, the (proto-) Indo-Iranian language developed. The reconstruction of the “mother” from “daughter” languages Old Avestan and Old Indic reveals the presence of non-Indo-European loanwords, from contact with a source that appears to have further enriched the vocabulary of Old Indic in a later period.⁷ Anthony suggests that societies in the Bactria-Margiana Archaeological Complex (BMAC) are the most likely sources of the 55 loanwords found in (proto-) Indo-Iranian.⁸ Most cogent to this dissertation is the presence specific terms related to agriculture and settlement in this list of loanwords: “bread,” “ploughshare,” “brick,” and “camel.”⁹ It is particularly significant that of the two daughter languages, only Old Indic was heavily influenced by contact with speakers of this language group. An obvious, but partial, explanation is the movement of Old Indic speakers out of Central Asia into northern Syria and northwestern India. This movement would logically have taken Old Indic speakers through BMAC settlements – but, as noted in the last chapter, the timing would have been such that both the language and religion of Old Indic speakers could have diverged from (proto-) Indo-Iranian and subsequent Old Avestan speakers enough to allow two independent groups of Old Indic speakers to reference the same deities nearly 3000 kilometers away from each other.¹⁰

This explanation, as it appears in the literature, logically focuses on Old Indic speakers and their religion. It is possible, however, that Old Avestan speakers played an important role in the process of differentiation. Setting aside implications for chronologies, references in the Old Avestan Gathas, referring to the antithesis of the Mazda-worshipper, the Daeva-worshipper, exemplifies the “looking down” on religions “incompatible” with the “emphatic concept of Truth” integral to Mazda-worship. Considering the categorical difference between the worship of Ahura Mazda and so many other religions, known in the ancient Near and Middle East at the time, it seems reasonable to suggest that religious developments in the Old Avestan speaking population may have played a role in the differentiation between Old Avestan and Old Indic societies. In The Origin of the Indo-Iranians, E. E. Kuz’mina associates archaeological materials belonging to the “Andronovo horizon” with (proto-) Indo-Iranian speaking populations.¹¹ Anthony suggests that Old Indic populations arose from Andronovo/Tazabagyab “hybrid cultures” geographically proximate to BMAC culture (in the south) and Iranian (Old Avestan) dialects likely developed in the north among Andronovo/Srubnaya cultures.¹² Kuz’mina’s and Anthony’s arguments reveal two important facts: 1) there is no obvious link to the language or religion of Old Avestan speakers found among archaeological material from the steppe (no “smoking gun”); 2) the geographic spread of Andronovo material found across the steppe suggests that there was plenty of physical room for the (proto-) Indo-Iranian to branch into daughter languages and religions before the migrations of Old Indic speakers out of Central Asia. Taken together, these points support the idea that Mazda-worship arose from a mobile pastoralist social context.

Further support for this idea is found in the pastoral allusions and assumptions of the Old Avestan texts themselves. In “Zarathustra’s Time and Homeland: Geographical Perspectives” Frantz Grenet writes “The material realities [implied by the texts] are entirely pastoral: one finds a mention of ‘dwelled‐in abodes’ (šiieitibiiō vižibiiō, Y 53.8) but we find no references to towns, temples, canals, or farming (except one possible mention of yauua‐‘barley’, ‘grain’, or ‘beer’, Y 49.1). Not one recognizable geographical name is mentioned.”¹³ Grenet’s observation echoes Anthony’s assessment of the reconstructed (proto-) Indo-Iranian language: the absence of autochthonous terms for settlement and agriculture suggests a mobile pastoralist social context. References to the cow (or “soul of the cow”), milk, and horses throughout the Old Avestan texts  point clearly to the dominance of pastoralist modes of food production and the mobility required (and provided) by domesticated animals.¹⁴ In contrast to the limited scope and size of the Old Avestan corpus, the Hebrew Bible contains religio-historical narratives that portray the founding community of worship centered around YHWH as mobile (and pastoralist).

The stories of the “Patriarchs” in the Hebrew Book of Genesis depict a “sojourning” people whose subsistence strategy appears to be primarily pastoralism. Descriptions of Abraham and his family moving from place to place, taking “all their possessions” with them, and concerning themselves with the business of managing herds and flocks offers a compellingly sympathetic portrait of mobile pastoralism. This sense of sympathy (or mobile perspective) is emphasized by the contrasting stories of Abraham and Lot in Genesis 18 and 19. Abraham’s scene in Genesis 18:1-10 reads like an advertisement for pastoral life: the setting is bright, Abraham is active, food is plentiful, and his hospitality is generous. The same number of verses at the beginning of chapter 19 describe Lot as slow to move, with fewer resources, and less generous with his guests. Most tantalizing about the contrast of these chapters is the less obvious language being used to tell a story of contrasts: the words for “tent” (אֺהֶל) and “house” (בֵּ׳ת) each appear in the first lines of Genesis 18 and 19 respectively. Each word, as it used in the sense of “home or dwelling place,” appears five times within ten lines at the beginning of its respective chapter: “tent” in Genesis 18:1-10 and “house” in Genesis 19:2-11. This sort of precision suggests a perspective of sympathy with mobile society that paints settled societies unfavorably in a deliberately harsh contrast. Although it seems to point to authorial intent, it does not offer specifics regarding that intention. Considering the problematic nature of establishing the provenance of the Hebrew biblical texts, this kind of “evidence” must be considered dubious at best. Despite this necessity, it is reasonable to compare the tone of this kind of narrative to the perspectives of established settled agriculturalist “civilizations” in the ancient Near East in order to understand the perspective(s) behind its composition. 

The Ancient Mesopotamian City, Marc Van de Mieroop describes the urban bias apparent in Mesopotamian sources. He writes, “[It] is remarkable that there is no trace at all of an awareness or recognition of culture outside the cities. Non-urban people had a culture; oral tradition, religion, and art are found universally among villagers and nomads. In Mesopotamian tradition there is no acknowledgment of the fact that they had or could have influenced the urban culture. This is especially true with regard to religion and literacy, where the urban bias is absolute.”¹⁵ Van de Mieroop’s explanation, including the suggestion that this bias also dismissed culture in non-urban settlements, appears to agree with Redford’s portrayal of the Egyptian perspective on the Shasu. For purposes of the present discussion it is important to observe that the attitudes exemplified by these cases, regarding mobile pastoralists, appear to have ranged from dismissive neutrality to belittling hostility. There is no room in this range for the kind of positive portrayal of mobile pastoralism found in the Hebrew texts. Furthermore, the religio-historical function of the biblical narratives is presented as the founding story of a polity called Israel and the religion of YHWH. The glaring difference in attitudes toward mobile pastoralist societies, between urban settled agriculturalist societies Egypt and Mesopotamia and that presented in the Hebrew texts, provides an implication, if not evidence, of mobile pastoralist social origins.

Similar to the situation of finds evidencing the society from which the worship of Ahura Mazda arose, there is no archaeological evidence revealing the social origins of YHWH-worship. The earliest potential attestation of a name like YHWH is unreliable and, despite the apparent connection with amobile people, the name “Israel” does not appear in the “Shasu sequences” Amara West or Soleb. Interestingly the earliest attestation of a polity named “Israel” also derives from Egypt, on the so-called “Merneptah Stele” dated to the late 13^thcentury BCE.¹⁶ The inscription seems to describe Egyptian military victories in the Levantine region and identifies an “Israel” (Egyptian Ysr3r) rendered in a way that suggests a people rather than a geographic location.¹⁷ This source appears to be only as useful as the inscriptions at Soleb and Amara West: it gives a name recognizable with aid of the Hebrew texts and suggest a rough association between that name and mobile societies. Although this text, by itself, is hardly conclusive, it seems to be perhaps one of the more informative extra-biblical sources regarding a historical society called “Israel.” 

Other earliest attestations of the name are found in epigraphic sources variously dated to the 8^thand 9^thcenturies BCE and mentioning a “king of Israel” (Tel Dan fragments; Mesha Stele) or “Israelite” (Kurkh Monolith). Whatever might be learned about the name of “Israel” from these sources, the impetus for seeking out a polity by this name ultimately derives from the Hebrew texts. The other evidence for a historical “Israel” is informed by the Hebrew Bible: these and other inscriptions contain proper names that appear tantalizingly similar to those found in the biblical texts. The history of “biblical archaeology” has long shown the problematic nature of using the Hebrew Bible as either source or lens for establishing non-religious histories. In recent decades the biblical notion of a historical “Kingdom of Israel” has proven difficult to maintain in the face of non-biblical interpretations of archaeological evidence from the Near East.¹⁸ Based on these extra-biblical sources, a few conclusions can be drawn regarding a historical polity called “Israel:” 1) a minimum of one society was perceived by outsiders to have existed by this name; 2) such an entity (or entities) was considered to be noteworthy enough for mention in an inscription; 3) a number of encounters with this society were of a military nature. 

In a particularly remarkable coincidence, the presentation of this (or these) “Israel” in these sources seems to foreshadow the later history of the worshippers of YHWH into the 21^stcentury. It seems that all of these inscriptions, including the Merneptah Stele, mention the name in the context of violent struggle. In each of these sources ranging from Egypt to Mesopotamia, across five centuries, a polity called “Israel” is defeated spectacularly. Consider the following lines:

Israel is stripped bare, wholly lacking seed!”¹⁹ (Merneptah Stele)
And I killed of [them chari-]
ot and thousands (or 2000) of riders [
king of Israel. And I kill[ed”²⁰ (Tel Dan fragments)
but I looked down on him and on his house, and Israel has gone to ruin, yes, it has gone to ruin for ever!”²¹ (Mesha Stele)
10,000 footsoldiers of Ahab…‘the Israelite’…I defeated them from Qarqar to Gilzau. I slew 14,000 of their soldiers”²² (Kurkh Monolith)

To be sure “Israel” is not the only victim of defeat mentioned in these sources, nor is it specifically described as an enemy of note, but taken together these lines paint a picture of military engagement and defeat for something called “Israel.”

This dissertation is not focused on the origins of “Israel” but rather on the origins of the worship of YHWH and the society in which it developed. Where is YHWH in these sources? The Mesha Stele appears to be both the earliest reliable attestation of the divine name and the only one of these sources in which it is linked with “Israel.” The connection between something political/social being called “Israel” and something religious named “YHWH” is clear: the inscription refers to the defeat of Israel followed by the “vessels of YHWH” being taken and put before the Moabite deity “Kemosh.”²³ This is cogent to the investigation at hand not merely because it shows a connection, but because it reveals the extreme absence of such data. In Rediscovering Eve, Carol Meyers observes “The land of the Bible has probably been excavated more than any other place of comparable size on earth.”²⁴ No one can say for certain that nothing remains to be found, there is too much digging left to do to support such a claim, however, Meyers’ comment recalls the work of “biblical archaeologists” who would have built mountains out of the smallest molehill, had such evidence revealed itself. The fact that there are no smoking guns – hardly even any lukewarm ones – makes very real the low probability that proof of a settled agriculturalist society called “Israel” that worshipped “YHWH” will be found to have existed prior to the Achaemenid Persian period.

For many who view the narratives of the Hebrew texts as historical, it may be perfectly reasonable to assume that such proof would only indicate a later development of Israelite society, such as the united and divided monarchies. The argument laid out in this chapter may appear to some as a reconstitution of “nomadic” theories proffered in the first half of the 20^thcentury, but this is not the case.²⁵ Although those theories and the suggestions made in this discussion appear to be aimed at the same conclusion, that the origins of YHWH-worship lie in a mobile pastoralist society (potentially called “Israel”), the basic premises, and implications derived from such conclusions, are fundamentally different. The theories of scholars like Albrecht Alt and Martin Noth, as with a number of the earliest “biblical archaeologists,” seem to have relied on the religio-historical narratives in the Hebrew Bible as historical witnesses to the events they claim to report.²⁶ Furthermore, the theological lenses of Christian biblical interpretation of the “Old Testament” seem to have shaded conclusions drawn from data collected using the very same perspectives. In this dissertation, the information presented by the Hebrew texts, far from being assumed to be historical witness, is problematized and attributed far less authority than archaeological data. This allows insights, such as the curiously positive attitude of author/s (and one might assume the receiving audience) toward a mobile pastoralist history, to contribute to the discussion without being lost in the baggage of textual issues. Despite what Martin Leuenberger calls the “well founded abandonment of the classical paradigm of a ‘nomadic god’” the textual and archaeological support for locating the origins of YHWH-worship in a mobile pastoralist social context appears to be more compelling than for one of settled agriculturalism.