An Ambiguous Assassin
Comparative commentary by Brandon Hurlbert
Rounding off the prologue of the book of Judges (Judges 1:1–3:6), the opening verses of Judges 3 introduce the foreign nations remaining in the land who will test Israel and their devotion to YHWH.
The stereotypical Judges cycle detailed in Judges 2:11–23 begins with Othniel’s narrative. Israel first turns to idolatry, and then is oppressed by a foreign king. They cry out to the Lord, who raises up a judge (Othniel) to deliver them. The story concludes with the death of the Judge and a notice that the land was quiet.
The third judge, Shamgar (Judges 3:31) represents a different style of narration—probably due to the book’s complex compositional history.
Between these two short accounts lies the narrative of Ehud and Eglon. Following Othniel’s death Israel had again turned to foreign gods. YHWH first raises up Eglon, the king of Moab, who oppresses Israel for eighteen years, before also raising up Ehud as Israel’s deliverer. The story appears quite simple: Ehud gains an audience with the king with a promise of a divine word. After assassinating Eglon with his concealed dagger, Ehud locks the door and flees while the servants wait for their king to finish his business. Ehud rallies the troops and seizes the river crossing against the Moabite army.
In recent interpretations, two elements of the narrative have been understood as extremely significant: Ehud’s left-handedness and Eglon’s body. Ehud is characterised as a Benjaminite and a ‘man bound in his right hand’ (Hebrew: ish itter yad-yemino). This description could mean several things: it could be an idiom for left-handedness; it could imply a social and/or physical disability; or it could indicate Ehud is of an elite warrior class (warriors would often bind their dominant hand to improve their combat ability with their offhand). A left-handed ‘Benjaminite’ (which means ‘son of the right’) may additionally point to Ehud’s ironic and underhanded characterization. The ambiguity of this word is represented in the various ancient translations. The Targum (Aramaic) and the Syriac versions suggest that Ehud is disabled, while the Greek versions read ‘ambidextrous’ (amphoterodexion), an interpretation which is followed by the Old Latin and Vulgate. This may explain why both the Crusader Bible and Speculum have chosen to depict Ehud as using both hands, as they would have relied on the Vulgate.
Eglon’s body is described as ‘very fat’ (Hebrew: bari meod), which has been understood by many modern readers to indicate obesity. The description in its narrative context is thus often understood to be comically obscene and grotesque. Even though the phrase may actually mean a king who is ‘well-built’, it is not surprising that a satirical reading which mocks Moab vis-à-vis its corpulent king has become dominant.
Along with its humorous depiction of the servants, the text appears to relish its depiction of the violence and gore of the episode, with imaginative descriptions of fat closing over the blade and sh*t covering the floor (modestly rendered in the NRSV ‘and the dirt came out’; Judges 3:22). The consequent odours may explain why the servants thought he was relieving himself (v.24). The Crusader Bible and Speculum likewise focus on the violent act, even if they do not pay close attention to the details of the text. As guts spill out and blood splatters across the pages, it is the gore that is the subject of these depictions.
In stark contrast, Ford Madox Brown’s engraving focuses only on the potential for violence. Eglon’s size is implied, but not overstated. Eglon begins to rise from his throne while looking at Ehud. Even as Ehud offers a word of God, the viewer’s eye is drawn to the concealed dagger, about to be unsheathed. By freezing the action just before the explosion of gore, Brown opens up the narrative for ethical reflection—is Ehud’s assassination of Eglon congruent with the way of YHWH? Furthermore, Brown’s (misguided) attempt to situate Eglon within the ancient Near East rather than the contemporary medieval world of the Crusader Bible and Speculum arguably humanizes the villain by providing him with a more defined and ‘realistic’ backdrop.
Interestingly, it is Eglon’s deed, rather than Ehud’s, that is central in ancient and medieval Jewish interpretation. Ruth Rabbah 2.9 explains that because Eglon stood to hear God’s word, God granted kingship to Eglon’s descendants via his daughter Ruth. In this tradition, as in Brown’s engraving, Eglon is not reduced to a mere villain.
These perspectives and depictions reveal that, by contrast with modern readers, not everyone considered Ehud’s left-handedness and Eglon’s size to be of central importance to the story.
Like the great art it inspired, this narrative resists over-simplification and may provoke deep ethical and theological reflection on the nature and necessity of violence to effect liberation.
References
Christianson, Eric S. 2003. ‘A Fistful of Shekels: Scrutinizing Ehud’s Entertaining Violence (Judges 3:12–30)’, Biblical Interpretation, 11.1: 53–78
Gunn, David M. 2005. Judges Through the Centuries (Malden: Blackwell Publishing
Sasson, Jack M. (ed.). 2009. ‘Ethically Cultured Interpretations: The Case of Eglon’s Murder (Judges 3)’, in Homeland and Exile: Biblical and Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Bustenay Oded (Leiden: Brill), pp. 571–95
Stone, Lawson G. 2009. ‘Eglon’s Belly and Ehud’s Blade: A Reconsideration’, Journal of Biblical Literature, 128.4: 649–63