The term Ioudaioi appears
in a variety of Greek texts in antiquity. In no single case is it always clear
precisely how the term should be translated. Historically, this term has almost
always been translated as “Jews.” However, in recent years many scholars have
adopted the term “Judeans” rather than “Jews” for a variety of reasons. This
development has led to a conversation about what is the “best” translation of
the term (or if there is a single “best” choice) and why. This debate was put
on the Marginalia Review of Books beginning with an essay by Adele Reinhartz
who argued that the adoption of the term “Judean” was a major mistake and had a
number of unforeseen consequences.[1]
This then caused Marginalia to host a forum with 9 different opinions on the
issue.[2]
The conversation is very interesting and provides an excellent case study in
why terms are so important and how, through the semiotics of language, they do
matter.
This particular issue would have been one I would have had
very little interest in several years ago. The argument seemed to revolve
around how to translate a particular term. The term itself is not at issue. As
such, I would have found this very uninteresting. It would seem to be a number
of people wanting to change very little with no real consequence. I would have
held that it doesn’t matter what you call a particular thing, if you haven’t
changed the thing, nothing is affected. Therefore, to replace the translation “Judean”
for “Jew” would mean really very little – it is the same group being discussed.
However, these terms do matter.
One of the primary reasons for replacing “Jew” with “Judean”
is that the translation “Jews” for Ioudaioi
says too much – it includes all of those who ethnically, philosophically,
or religiously (no matter where they lived) into one category. What’s more, it
would include not only those living in the first century but all Jews living in
all places and all times. The argument then is that Judean is a term that can
be far more local – the “Jews” were those who lived all around the world,
whereas the Judaeans were only those
who lived in occupied Palestine in the first century. What is more,
particularly when the term is used – particularly in the Gospel of John – the term is even more precise in that it seems to
only be discussing the Judean leaders in Palestine at one particular time.[3]
The argument, then is that translating this text – particularly in early
Christian texts (most notably again the Gospel
of John) might aid in avoiding some of the pitfalls of anti-Semitism. The
term could imply that this was not all Jews at all times; it was merely a small
subset.
This perspective, however, has been criticized. Adele
Reinhartz, in her original essay, was not convinced that calling these figures
“Judeans” would solve this problem. Jonathan Klawans went farther claiming that
this goal is foolish. He argues that this will solve nothing and that it
doesn’t matter how one translates Ioudaioi,
anti-Semites will not likely change their mind:
It’s a clarion call to take one side on an unsolved question (on “Jew”
or “Judean”) by appeal to a moral argument that is (or should be) one-sided
(anti-Semitism, which is evil). Here’s my view: anti-Semites can translate these terms as they wish. And
they should go to hell. The rest of us should have an open conversation about
this matter, without misleading ourselves into thinking that Jew-haters will
somehow be countered by academics’ semantic
adjustments. I fear, not without reason, that some anti-Semites may just as
likely find current revisionism on these matters conducive to their own
pernicious ends. If that risk does not matter, then neither should any
perceived benefit.[4]
Klawans is certainly correct on one point – those who hate
the existent group called Jews will continue to hate them no matter what we
decide to call their ancestors.
While Klawans point is certainly the case, there still is
good reason to stop and be very careful about how we label things. Language is
amazingly powerful and the way something is expressed very much does influence how we consider it. If we
decide to semantically separate the figures in the Gospel of John from modern Jews, there are consequences. Further, if
the goal is essential continuity, there are consequences to that as well. The
entire debate began with Reinhartz’s critique that making the “Judean” separate
from the modern “Jew” challenged the fundamental continuity in the religious
tradition. Here, Reinhartz was not particularly criticized – most agreed that
the term does do this. Some lauded that decision and others despised it – but
it certainly did present logical consequences.
As Joan Taylor points out, there is no simple solution to
this issue – it is and has to be complex. Any term you use in the Gospel of John requires a footnote and
explanation.[5]
One of the issues is that the Greek term ioudaioi
is a single term that is used for a variety of context. Some scholars, such
as Taylor herself, prefer to divide this term up – one can discuss “Jews” as a
large term based upon a kind of philosophical agreement. One then can use “Judean”
as a title for one actually living in the land. Then one can further use the
term “Judahite” as one who is genealogically descendent from the people of
Abraham. Taylor’s basic idea is helpful but it creates semiotic problems. If
one divides a term into three separate categories, it emphasizes the division
among the people. Further, it suggests an either/or approach – it makes it
sound like one can be either a Judean, Jew, or Judahite. Whereas for the
example of Jesus, he would be all three – living in the land, agreeing with the
philosophy, and a descendent of Abraham. This would be what Saussure would call
the controlling power of a particular langue
that governs all its terms paroles –
the system of one’s langue governs
how one talks and thinks.[6]
Taylor acknowledges this problem and shows why it cannot
precisely stand on its own. The problem is that what she has divided into three
is one term – ioudaioi.
Taylor explains:
All the distinctions I make in
terms of words like “Jew,” “Judean,” or “Judahite” are actually that one
word in Greek: Ioudaios. Much rests
on the correct understanding of it. No one English word covers all its
meanings. We do not have simple solutions; we have complex ones. Each term does
not have hard and fast boundaries: a Diaspora Jew could be also a Judean, in
terms of origins, and a Judahite, in terms of tribal background, but a Diaspora
Jew could be Helena of the royal house Abiadene, who converted to Judaism (Antiquities 20: 34-53) In each
text, the context and subtleties of language need to be carefully understood
for the proper translation of the term Ioudaios.
One word in Greek is used for variants of identity and belonging that we today
will want to distinguish.[7]
The challenge in a Saussurian semiotic system is that it
doesn’t allow nuances. Once the system is set, then there no flexibility for
new thought. Had Taylor not presented this extra paragraph, the essential
continuity between the terms would have been lost.
Taylor’s argument challenged how helpful it is to break the
term Ioudaioi up into several smaller
ones. That would seem to leave us to the basic question of replacing all translations of “Jew” with “Judean”
or not. Several people are happy to do that. Steve Mason, for instance, while
not advocating that all people should make this switch (he does not find it
necessary that everyone do this or not), seems to do so himself for his own
work. He argues that the term Judean is helpful because it fits a first century
Greco-Roman mindset. One is a citizen of a particular land, not an adherent to
a particular philosophy or religion. The land, of course is called Ioudaia. Therefore, its citizens would simply be Ioudaioi. He further argues that those not living in the land were
persecuted as foreigners – they were displaced citizens.[8]
Here Mason has shown a semiotic principle – if one wants to express a
particular idea, then it is necessary to set up a symbol that will give that
setting. Mason is interested in seeing how the term Ioudaioi functions in the Greek
language. In the Greek language, it has particular rules and substances. He
therefore is arguing that it is a Greek concept and should be kept in Greek
culture. He is not worried about how this term might be translated for Jews nor
how it might affect the continuity of Jews today with Jews in antiquity – the
seeming break in continuity that Reinhartz objected to.
Semiotics is very much dependent upon one’s goals. If one
has as a primary interest the meaning of a term in its own context, then there
is no real problem. As Jonathan Klawans pointed out, the distinction between
“Jew” and “Judean” is an English language distinction. He shows that in other
modern languages – he discusses Russian – the distinction would not exist.
Further, as Mason points out, in Greek it certainly would not exist – it is all
one term. However, how one sets one’s paramaters for one’s signs semiotically
determines meaning. This is what Charles Peirce calls the “interpretant” – the
internal dialogue that makes all symbols subject to one’s subjectivity. The Gospel of John can be slightly
exonerated of charges of anti-Judaism if we could simply translate Ioudaioi as “Judean leaders in Palestine
at that particular time.” However, as Ruth Sheridan points out, this language
game (in a Derridean or Heideggerean sense), might not be fair to the Fourth
Gospel. The Gospel of John might
actually be a little anti-Judaic and it might well be more accurate to
translate it as “Jews” for Tertullian to use in anti-Semitic invective.[9]
I do not have a particular view on this with the Gospel of John (or at least not one I am ready at this point to
make public), but how one translates the term certainly has the ability to
exonerate or condemn the Gospel of John.
If one semiotically sets up a system wherein the ioudaioi are merely the actual figures in the Gospel, the text is
not so caustic. However, if one sets a system where ioudaioi includes Jews still alive two thousand years later, the
text would be quite troubling indeed. The point here is that translations of
terms matter.
Translating the term Ioudaioi
as “Jews” or “Judeans” does matter.
It can indeed affect how one views ancient texts and what their
“meaning” is. I want to laud all the articles presented in Marginalia
discussing this point. Myself, I find the best solution to leave Ioudaioi untranslated. I find that
Taylor’s point was most accurate – no simple solution will suffice. All
solutions require explanation. If I leave the term in its transliterated Greek,
it forces me to explain it rather than simply move forward (and if there was
one critique of the 10 total essays was that I did not see anyone suggesting
this as a solution).
[1] Adele
Reinhartz “The Vanishing Jews of Antiquity” found here: http://marginalia.lareviewofbooks.org/vanishing-jews-antiquity-adele-reinhartz/
[2] http://marginalia.lareviewofbooks.org/jew-judean-forum/
[3] Daniel R.
Schwartz “The Different Tasks of Translators and Historians” http://marginalia.lareviewofbooks.org/different-tasks-translators-historians-daniel-r-schwartz/
[4] Jonathan
Klawans “An Invented Revolution” http://marginalia.lareviewofbooks.org/invented-revolution-jonathan-klawans/
[5] Joan Taylor
“’Judean’ and ‘Jew’, Jesus and Paul” http://marginalia.lareviewofbooks.org/judean-jew-jesus-paul/
[6] Ferdinand de
Saussure Course in General Linguistics trans.
Wade Baskin (New York: McGraw Hill, 1966).
[7] Taylor
“Judaean and Jew, Jesus and Paul.”
[8] Steve Mason
“Ancient Jews or Judeans? Different Questions, Different Answers” http://marginalia.lareviewofbooks.org/ancient-jews-judeans-different-questions-different-answers-steve-mason/
[9] Ruth
Sheridan “Hiding from the Fourth Gospel’s Tragic Reception History” http://marginalia.lareviewofbooks.org/hiding-fourth-gospels-tragic-reception-history/
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