Don't Know Much About the Bible - Kenneth C. Davis [80]
First of all, Goliath was only four cubits and a span, according to another version of the story found in the Dead Sea Scrolls, making him about six feet nine—a very healthy size, to be sure, and nice for professional basketball—but he was no ten-foot giant. Then there is Elhanan, a soldier who kills Goliath in 2 Samuel 21. So who really killed Goliath? Probably not David, who may have killed another Philistine who was later called Goliath. The King James translators of 1611 tried to cover up the discrepancy by inserting the words “brother of” before the second mention of Goliath, but older texts don’t bear that version out. In other words, after David was famous, the authors of the Hebrew scriptures may have tried to dress up David’s military exploits with a few embellishments. This is an old story that keeps being replayed, as recently demonstrated in the sad episode of an American admiral who had exaggerated his service record and then committed suicide when he was about to be exposed in the media. There was also a much-publicized case of an American diplomat who fabricated his World War II service and a war-related injury, a lie discovered after the man was buried in Arlington National Cemetery, America’s most sacred military burial ground.
David knew how to win friends and influence people. From playing harp for Saul, he became best friends with Saul’s son Jonathan, a friendship that has led to speculation (see below) about its intimacy, and was soon elevated to leadership in the army. Like many notable generals in history, including Napoleon, Washington, Eisenhower, and Schwarzkopf, David learned that military victories equal huge popularity with the hometown fans. Everyone was happy with David. Except Saul, who could hear the people chanting:
“Saul has killed his thousands,
and David his tens of thousands.”
Inflamed by jealousy and obviously threatened by David’s charismatic abilities, Saul began to plot David’s death, even going so far as to use his daughters as bait. That plan backfired when Saul’s daughter Michal fell in love with David, but Saul was willing to use even his daughter’s love to get David. He asks David for a “marriage present,” or bride-price, of a hundred Philistine foreskins, assuming David will die in the process. The idea of giving a young hero an impossible task is a common one in legends. In Greek myth, Jason must deliver the golden fleece and Perseus must bring the head of the Medusa. Like these other ancient Near East warrior-heroes, David surprises Saul by delivering the goods. In some versions of the Hebrew text, David actually goes Saul one better and delivers two hundred foreskins.
The details of how these foreskins are presented to Saul are vague in this account. But the ritual stripping of some body part of a dead enemy—a battle trophy that provided in modern military parlance a “body count”—was typical of ancient Near Eastern cultures. Heads or hands were the usual proof, so Saul’s request for the delivery of enemy body parts was not unusual in the ancient world. But foreskins? Cyrus Gordon explains that Egyptians, who were circumcised like the Hebrews, usually took hands or heads of their defeated enemies. However, when it came to uncircumcised Libyans, “uncircumcised phalli were often amputated for counting.” (The Bible and the Ancient Near East, p. 187)
Again bested by David, Saul is forced to keep his side of the bargain and David becomes Saul’s son-in-law, as well as a thorn in his side. Driven to near madness, Saul openly discuses his plans to kill David with his oldest son, Jonathan. But even Saul’s children like David better, and Jonathan immediately warns his friend of Saul’s murderous intentions. After throwing a javelin at David, Saul sends assassins to kill David while he is sleeping, but Saul’s daughter Michal saves David by making a dummy and putting it in the bed. When David escapes another of Saul’s traps, the raging