How Do We Decide What to Remember?

I have always loved the connection between text and terrain—the bridge between the sources and findings that teach us about the past and how we perceive the history and geopolitics of the Land of Israel, then and now. Often, there are perceptions, insights, and understandings that we rarely question—until someone presents a logical alternative that suddenly fits much better than the story we have been telling ourselves. A powerful and rare example of this is the school of thought led by Professor Israel Finkelstein, which holds up a challenging mirror to our founding myth: the "United Monarchy" of Saul, David, and Solomon.

Finkelstein proposes a theory, deeply rooted in research, arguing that the 10th century BCE—the supposed golden age of Biblical Jerusalem—was actually scarce in archaeological findings. Based on extensive research involving Carbon-14 dating, this approach suggests that the magnificent monuments at Hazor, Megiddo, and Gezer, traditionally attributed to Solomon, are actually later structures. They belong to the 9th century BCE, the era of the great northern kings—Omri and Ahab.

The implications of shifting the archaeological timeline are dramatic, impacting not only the academic world but our collective consciousness. It paints a picture of two separate political entities that developed at entirely different paces: the Northern Kingdom of Israel, which was the true regional power—wealthy and globally connected—versus the Southern Kingdom of Judah, which remained isolated, sparsely populated, and tribal during that same period. According to this analysis, 10th-century Jerusalem was not an imperial capital managing a vast empire, but rather a small highland village lacking the bureaucratic capacity to manage complex construction projects. It is the "Forgotten Kingdom" of the North that, historically speaking, deserves the glory.

So, how was the magnificent Biblical narrative created? This is where the fascinating geopolitical and social analysis comes in. The research points to the 7th century BCE, the reign of King Josiah, as the defining moment. Following the destruction of Samaria (722 BCE), Jerusalem was flooded with refugees from the North who brought their heritage and traditions with them. This encounter created a necessary "melting pot." To unify the people and support territorial expansionist ambitions toward the North, a narrative of an ancient "United Monarchy" was required. Royal scribes in Jerusalem appropriated the achievements of the Northern kings (such as the palaces and stables) and attributed them to David and Solomon, creating a pan-Israeli ideology that presented the two kingdoms as brothers under a single scepter.

It is important to emphasize: this theory does not seek to "cancel" the Bible, but to provide it with a new and deeper context. It suggests reading the Bible not as a newspaper documenting events in real-time, but as a record of cultural memories edited for theological and political motives. For those of us observing Israeli society, this is a rare lesson in how narratives are formed and how history is written to serve goals of identity and unity in the present. The "sin" of the Northern kings was not truly religious; rather, it was that history was written by the survivors—the people of Judah.

Archaeological-historical research invites us on a courageous Inquiry Journey. It demands that we distinguish between faith and science, and between myth and realistic history. When we walk through the tels of Megiddo or Hazor, we must ask ourselves: Do these stones tell the story of Solomon, or are they silent witnesses to the power of the forgotten Omride dynasty? The answer to this question changes the entire way we understand the origins of the Jewish people in their land.

Photo: The "House of Pillars", Tel Hatzor