The previous chapter addressed conquest narratives and stories of war and occupation. In this chapter, David Calabro discusses the difficult concept of the war ḥērem—a term that relates to conduct and behavior in war and is often difficult to comprehend in its application. Calabro addresses the concept in its various forms and articulates the complexities involved in interpreting it, based on its inconsistent implementation in ancient Israel. This chapter bridges the conquest accounts found in Joshua and the later stories of Judges, where the people continue a trajectory of war and conflict, alongside an ongoing need to follow the Lord’s instructions—guidance intended to bring calm amid political and regional upheaval. —DB and AS

Overview of the concept of ḥērem

Various biblical passages, primarily in the Pentateuch and in the conquest narrative of Joshua, describe a practice called ḥērem, which involves the killing of human inhabitants of cities and sometimes the destruction of livestock, built structures, and material goods. These passages are challenging from both historical and theological standpoints. Some of the biblical texts seem to indicate that destruction by ḥērem was generally applicable to the people of the seven Canaanite nations inhabiting the promised land (for example, Deuteronomy 7:1–2), yet the Bible itself portrays a strong Canaanite presence in the land long after the conquest. Archaeological evidence also fails to support the idea that all the cities described as being consigned to the ḥērem were actually completely destroyed by an Israelite invading force. Thus, some scholars view the ḥērem as a fiction invented by biblical writers long after the conquest.[1] Aside from questions of historicity, many readers struggle to understand why the scriptures would portray God as issuing such a gruesome command to his people.

The ḥērem is a prime example of the importance of placing the scriptures in their proper cultural context. A careful reading of the relevant biblical passages combined with evidence from the inscriptions of ancient Israel’s neighbors helps to clarify the cultural background of the biblical practice. When read together, these sources point to an ancient Near Eastern ideology that portrays conflict in theological terms and tends toward the use of hyperbole.[2] The insight from these sources helps to remove some of the extreme horror of the ḥērem, even if it does not make the practice entirely comfortable for modern readers.

The Book of Mormon also helps to shed light on the biblical ḥērem. According to Nephi, the Canaanites had had the word of God preached to them but had rejected it; thus, they were not only “ripe in iniquity” but had actively provoked God’s wrath (1 Nephi 17:33–38). The Nephites at the time of their destruction, who turned from a full knowledge of the gospel of Jesus Christ and rejected mercy because they sought happiness in doing iniquity, provide an instructive example for comparison (Mormon 2:12–15). As discussed below, this perspective from the Book of Mormon helps us to see that an important lesson of the ḥērem concerns our attitude toward God. The conquest narrative of Joshua shows contrasting responses to the ḥērem that illustrate this lesson, including Rahab, a Canaanite woman of Jericho who seeks for mercy and obtains it; and Achan, an Israelite soldier who seeks to hide his disobedience (Joshua 2; 6–7).[3]

Ḥērem in the Hebrew Bible

In the King James Version of the Old Testament, the Hebrew noun ḥērem is translated as “cursed thing” (Deuteronomy 7:26; 13:17), “accursed (thing)” (Joshua 6:17–18), or “devoted (thing)” (Leviticus 27:21, 28; compare Numbers 18:14). The related Hiphil (causative) verb heḥĕrīm is usually translated as “utterly destroy” (Numbers 21:2, etc.), though the translation “devote” is used once in a nonmilitary context (Leviticus 27:28).[4] Despite the violent meanings of these words in biblical texts, the Hebrew noun and its associated verb have more to do with holiness than violence from an etymological standpoint. The root from which these words are derived, ḥrm, is associated in the Semitic languages with a range of meanings having to do with sacredness, consecration, prohibition, and unlawfulness (among the cognates is the Arabic word ḥarīm, meaning “sacred precinct; female members of the family”—the source of the English word harem).[5] It is probable that the Hebrew words arise from the idea of devoting or consecrating people and things to the Lord, transferring them to the divine sphere and thereby making them off-limits to mortals; in the case of people, including those of enemy populations who would normally be taken as slaves in battle, the transfer would be effected by killing.[6] Thus, the meaning of the verb in military contexts is essentially “to devote or consecrate to destruction.”[7]

Biblical uses of the noun ḥērem and its associated verb belong to four broad categories: (1) in reference to things voluntarily dedicated to the Lord, primarily in the ritual laws of Leviticus and Numbers (Leviticus 27:21, 28; Numbers 18:14; Ezekiel 44:29); (2) in reference to Israelites guilty of idolatry or other offences against God and subject to punishment by death (Exodus 22:20; Leviticus 27:29; Deuteronomy 13:15, 17; Joshua 7:12; Ezra 10:8); (3) in reference to the devoting of people and material goods to destruction in warfare, with God or humans as the subject, especially in texts dealing with Israel’s conquest of the promised land, but also in more general usage elsewhere (Numbers 21:2–3; Deuteronomy 2:34; 3:6; 7:2, 26; 20:17; Joshua 2–11; 22:20; Judges 1:17; 21:11; 1 Samuel 15; 1 Kings 9:21; 20:42; 2 Kings 19:11; 1 Chronicles 2:7; 4:41; 2 Chronicles 20:23; 32:14; Jeremiah 50:21, 26; Daniel 11:44; Micah 4:13; Zechariah 14:11); and (4) in prophetic literature, in reference to God’s judgments on nations (including Israel) and on physical features of the land (Isaiah 11:15; 34:2, 5; 43:28; Jeremiah 25:9; 51:3; Malachi 4:6). Of special note in the last category is the prophecy in Malachi 4:5–6, in which the Lord promises to send the prophet Elijah to turn the hearts of the fathers and the children to each other, “lest I come and smite the earth with a curse.” This passage is significant to Latter-day Saints because of its relationship to the restoration of priesthood keys by Elijah and others at the Kirtland Temple in 1836 (Doctrine and Covenants 110:13–16). The Hebrew word for curse in this passage, the very last word in the Old Testament, is ḥērem. The attestations of these words in the Bible are shown in canonical order in table 1. The focus in this essay is on the third category, specifically the devotion of Canaanite cities to destruction in the conquest of the promised land.

The Pentateuch

The first reference to the destruction of the Canaanites in the occupation of the promised land, Exodus 23:20–24, does not use the root ḥrm. Here the Lord gives commandments relating to the occupation of the promised land. He claims the agency in carrying out the conquest: his angel will go before the Israelites; if they hearken to the angel, he will be an enemy to the Israelites’ enemies; and, he promises, “I will cut them off” (v. 23). It falls to the Israelites, however, to destroy the nations’ idols (v. 24). There is no indication in this passage of the absolute destruction associated with the ḥērem; this aspect, along with the use of the root ḥrm in the commandment, emerges in Deuteronomy (see below).

Numbers 21 contains three examples of conflicts involving the ḥērem prior to Israel’s entry into the promised land. These passages are significant because they set up the background for the inaugural commandments in Deuteronomy; by the time those commandments were given, Israel knew by experience what they meant. In Numbers 21:1–3, the Israelites, having suffered defeat at the hands of the Canaanites of the city Arad, make a vow to Jehovah. They promise that if he grants them victory, they will utterly destroy (heḥĕrīm) these Canaanites and their cities, which they do. In Numbers 21:21–35, Israel attempts to pass through the lands of kings Sihon and Og, is barred, and wages battle. The account in Numbers does not mention the ḥērem. This is found later when Moses, as part of a historical retrospective occupying the first three chapters of Deuteronomy, recounts these conflicts to the Israelites (Deuteronomy 2:26–3:7). This account adds a number of details to the account in Numbers 21. For instance, while Numbers 21 mentions a directive from God only in the case of the battle with Og (Numbers 21:34), the account in Deuteronomy makes it clear that God directed Moses to take possession of the lands of both kings (Deuteronomy 2:31; 3:2). In both cases, God delivers the opponent into Israel’s hands (Deuteronomy 2:33; 3:3). After slaying each king and his “people” (probably meaning those he had brought with him to combat—see Deuteronomy 2:32–33), Israel captures the enemy cities and utterly destroys (heḥĕrīm) “the men, the women, and the children” (Deuteronomy 2:34; 3:6). However, Israel keeps the livestock and the spoils (Deuteronomy 2:35; 3:7). These same events are later mentioned by Rahab to the Israelite spies in Jericho, again using the term heḥĕrīm (Joshua 2:10).

The initial commandment of the ḥērem for Israel’s conquest of the promised land is in Deuteronomy 7:1–6. Here, Moses prophesies that God will drive out the seven nations of the Canaanites before Israel. Moreover, “Jehovah your God will deliver them up before you, and you shall smite them; you shall surely devote them to destruction (haḥărēm taḥărīm ˀōtām)” (v. 2). For the rationale, the danger of intermarriage and being turned away from Jehovah is cited, along with Israel’s status as a holy and sealed people (vv. 3–4, 6).[9] Later in this chapter, the commandment is further elaborated: “You shall consume all the peoples which Jehovah your God gives you; your eye shall not pity them, and you shall not serve their gods, for it is a snare to you” (v. 16). Moses goes on to explain that God will aid in driving the nations out “little by little” and destroying them (vv. 17–23). In addition, “he will deliver their kings into your hands, and you shall erase their name from under heaven; nobody will stand up to you until you have wiped them out”—yet the Israelites must not covet or keep the precious things those nations possess (vv. 24–26). All of these directives are set up as part of a covenant arrangement in which Jehovah will show his love for the Israelites, bless them, and fight for them in miraculous ways (vv. 7–15, 17–23).[10] Thus, Deuteronomy 7 puts Israel under obligation to wage war (defined as ḥērem) on the inhabitants of the promised land in return for divine aid, and it frames that war in absolute terms.

Deuteronomy 20 contains laws pertaining to warfare. Once again, these laws are set in the context of divine aid: Jehovah will go with the Israelites, fight for them, and save them (vv. 1–4). Implicitly, the laws are part of Israel’s overall covenant relationship with Jehovah, which includes the promised aid. Verses 10–18 describe two different cases:

1. Enemy cities outside of the promised land (vv. 10–15). Terms of peace are to be offered first; if the city accepts and surrenders, they are to serve Israel. If they choose to fight instead and Jehovah delivers them into the hands of Israel, the men of the city are to be slain, while the women, children, and all the spoils are to be taken as booty. The ḥērem is not applied in these instances.
2. Conquered cities in the promised land (vv. 16–18). Unlike foreign cities, those located in the promised land are to be consigned to the ḥērem. According to verse 16, the conquerors are to “leave alive none that breathe,” probably referring to human inhabitants (see below).

The second of these two cases reiterates the ḥērem commandment of Deuteronomy 7, emphasizing the absolute nature of the command. The emphasis is heightened by contrast with verses 10–15: with foreign cities, the women and children are to be spared, but with cities in the promised land, all are to be slain (implicitly including the women and children).

Joshua

The account of the conquest of Canaanite cities in Joshua 2–11 repeatedly uses the root ḥrm to describe what was done to each city. This description serves the larger purpose of illustrating Israel’s obedience to divine command. Like the war commandments in Deuteronomy, the conquest narrative of Joshua places a heavy emphasis on Jehovah’s miraculous intervention, including such wonders as making the wall of Jericho fall (6:20), raining down stones on the enemy (10:11), and making the sun and moon stand still (10:12–14). Just as Deuteronomy sets forth the promises of God’s covenant with Israel, Joshua shows how he fulfills those promises to the degree that the Israelites remain faithful.[11] Jehovah’s involvement is summed up in Joshua 10:14: “For Jehovah fought for Israel.” This overall message of the narrative is important because the ḥērem is depicted as a divinely ordered act in which God himself participates; the element of human agency is limited to a question of obedience or disobedience (this comes to the fore especially in the story of Achan in Joshua 7—see below), while the technical workings of the practice and its moral implications are not explicitly addressed.

The narrative proceeds in four stages, each of which contains an application of the ḥērem:

1. Jericho (Joshua 6). The city and everything in it are said to be ḥērem, and the verb heḥĕrīm is also used (Joshua 6:17–19, 21, 24, 26). All inhabitants of the city are killed, along with the livestock. The valuable material spoils are put in the treasury of the house of the Lord. The city itself is burned. Joshua curses any who would rebuild the city in the future.
2. Ai (Joshua 7–8). Chapter 7 is occupied with the failed conquest of the city and the case of Achan, who retained some of the spoils of Jericho that were to be devoted to Jehovah (compare 1 Chronicles 2:7). The destruction of the city of Ai is then narrated in chapter 8. A divine oracle to Joshua includes a command to go against the city and an assurance that it is given into Joshua’s hand. The oracle also specifies that the livestock and the material spoil of the city are to be kept by the Israelites and that the city is to be burned (Joshua 8:1–8). In the carrying out of the command, Joshua’s ritual gesture of stretching out his hand with a sickle sword is maintained until he has “utterly destroyed” (heḥĕrīm) all the inhabitants (v. 26).[12] The stipulations of the oracle are carried out. In addition, Joshua makes the city “forever a heap of ruins” (v. 28), probably meaning that he ritually pronounces the city a perpetual desolation, an act similar to the curse pronounced on Jericho.[13] Finally, the king of Ai is hanged on a tree (vv. 27–30).
3. Cities of the south (Joshua 10:28–42). This passage follows Joshua’s itinerary through the cities of Makkedah, Libnah, Lachish, Eglon, Hebron, and Debir. The passage repeats in formulaic fashion the statement that Joshua smote the city with the sword and “utterly destroyed” (heḥĕrīm) the inhabitants. In this passage, only the slaying of humans is mentioned; other aspects, such as the burning of the city or the handling of the spoils, are not discussed.
4. Hazor (Joshua 11:10–14). The human inhabitants of the city are smitten with the sword and “utterly destroyed” (haḥărēm), while the livestock and material spoils are kept by the Israelites. The city of Hazor is burned, but outlying cities are not burned.

In all these scenarios, the ḥērem is consistently represented as a means by which Jehovah’s armies cooperate with him as he fights for Israel. Jehovah’s involvement is manifest through frequent revealed directives (6:2–5; 7:10–15; 8:1, 18; 10:8), through attendant miracles (6:20; 10:11–14), and through ritual practices like the circumambulation of Jericho (6:6–16) and Joshua’s ritual gesture at the battle of Ai (8:18, 26). However, the precise application of the ḥērem differs from one case to the next.[14] Only Jericho seems to get the most extreme form of destruction, including not only the killing of human inhabitants but also the burning of the city, the slaying of livestock, and the proclamation not to rebuild the city, just like the treatment of an apostate Israelite city (Deuteronomy 13:12–18).[15] Elsewhere in Joshua, only Ai and Hazor are burned, and only Ai receives the devastation pronouncement; in every case other than Jericho, the livestock and spoils are kept by the Israelites (see table 2).

Two issues are important for a correct assessment of the variation we see in the application of ḥērem. First, several passages specify the killing of “all that breathe” (Hebrew kol-nəšāmâ): Deuteronomy 20:16; Joshua 10:40; 11:11, 14. Most often, this phrase is translated as “everything that breathes” (or, when it follows the verb spare in Deuteronomy 20:16, “nothing that breathes”).[16] However, there is no indication in any of these passages that the phrase includes livestock as well as humans. In Joshua 11:14, it explicitly includes only the humans and not the livestock. It is likely that this exclusive reference to humans reflects the meaning of the phrase generally in texts relating to ḥērem. Thus, it is not correct to claim that the practice of ḥērem normally included the killing of livestock.[17]

Second, according to Joshua 8:28, Joshua made the city of Ai “forever a heap of ruins, as it is to this day” (wayśīmehā tēl-ˁōlām šəmāmāh ˁad hayyōm hazzeh). Since there is no mention of a formal curse as there is in the case of Jericho, it is possible to read this simply as a statement of the long-lasting effect of Joshua’s total destruction of the city.[18] However, given the repetition of similar motifs in texts relating to ḥērem, Kyle C. Dunham is likely correct in regarding this as an example of the “devastation pronouncement.”[19]

How, then, should the variation in the application of the ḥērem be explained? Dunham argues that the conquest narrative of Joshua shows three different “gradations” of ḥērem: in descending order of severity, “absolute” (Jericho), “intermediate” (Ai, Hazor), and “extenuated” (all other cities).[20] The text does not necessarily indicate a strict categorization of types; rather, it may be the case that various practices related to ḥērem, such as the burning of the city or the desolation pronouncement, were applied ad hoc. In the conquest of Ai, the burning of the city and the treatment of the spoils are specified in a divine oracle prior to the confrontation; this practice of obtaining direction by oracle may have been the general rule and may explain the variation we see in the execution of the ḥērem.

A major issue with regard to the practice of ḥērem in the conquest narrative of Joshua is the archaeology of the sites that are said to have been consigned to ḥērem. Scholars who believe that the biblical account of Joshua’s conquest of the promised land has a historical kernel generally place the events at the end of the Late Bronze Age (ca. 1200 BC).[21] Evidence from Hazor, a city mentioned in the biblical account, points to a violent destruction around this time and can thus be interpreted as consistent with the biblical account.[22] However, the excavations of Kathleen Kenyon at Tell es-Sultan (identified with ancient Jericho) in the 1950s and of Joseph A. Callaway at et-Tell (thought to be the site of Ai) in the 1960s showed an absence of fortified occupation levels at these sites during the latter part of the Late Bronze Age.[23] The variety of responses to this evidence is important not only for the historicity of the narrative but also for the understanding of the practice of ḥērem.

Some interpreters have taken the archaeological evidence to mean that the account of the conquest in Joshua 1–11, including the descriptions of the ḥērem, is either fabricated or greatly exaggerated. This approach to the archaeological evidence is closely related to source and canonical criticism of the Hebrew Bible that sees the more moderate understanding of the conquest in Judges (1:19–36; 2:1–5) as reflecting a more accurate tradition, which is placed alongside the radical version in Joshua.[24] Michael Walzer, for example, appeals to source criticism in arguing that the Israelite ḥērem is a Deuteronomistic fiction—or, more precisely, the literary “totalizing” of an older, historical practice of sacrificing the captives and spoils of war to God.[25] Thus, according to Walzer, God never actually commanded the practice, and it was never carried out; it was a retrospective product of “the radicalism of the writing-desk.”[26] This approach would allow the biblical ḥērem texts to be read on a symbolic level rather than as a record of God’s dealings in history. However, this approach is not a theological panacea, since it raises the question of why such a violent portrayal of God would be invented and promulgated as scripture.[27] In addition, the approach tends to downplay the importance of ancient Near Eastern inscriptions that record practices very similar to the biblical ḥērem from a contemporaneous standpoint. These inscriptions show that “totalizing” language like that found in the Hebrew Bible was a real part of the culture of ancient warfare (see below).[28]

Others have defended the historicity of the biblical account by challenging assumptions about the biblical text and the archaeological record. Richard S. Hess, for example, argues on the basis of a close reading of the biblical text that Jericho and Ai were both fortresses, not cities with large populations. This would solve the issue of the lack of destruction layers corresponding to the Israelite conquest at these sites.[29] In addition, Hess’s approach would imply that those killed in the ḥērem were mainly combatants, thus making the practice less horrific than it would otherwise seem.[30] Hess’s interpretation of some of the biblical texts, however, is strained.[31]

Bryant G. Wood takes a different position, arguing that the generally accepted identifications of Bethel and Ai with Beitin and et-Tell are faulty and that the actual sites are el-Bira and Khirbet el-Maqatir respectively. These revised identifications would, according to Wood, fit with the biblical account of the destruction of the two cities.[32]

Ultimately, evidence from archaeology is still insufficient to prove or disprove that the ḥērem was actually carried out as described in the conquest narrative of Joshua, but there are various ways in which the evidence could fit with aspects of the biblical account.

Other Passages

Outside of the book of Joshua, only a couple of biblical passages describe the use of the ḥērem against the Canaanite inhabitants of the promised land. Judges 1:17 briefly mentions the tribes of Judah and Simeon performing ḥērem against the Canaanites of Zephath. In 1 Samuel 15, the prophet Samuel delivers a divine oracle to Saul, commanding him to “utterly destroy” the Amalekites (the verb heḥĕrīm is used in verses 3, 8–9, 15, 18, 20–21). The oracle is explicit in ordering the destruction of both humans and livestock; when Saul instead captures the king and the best of the livestock, Samuel severely censures him (1 Samuel 15:16–23).[33] However, no burning or devastation pronouncement is included in the command, nor is there mention of these things being carried out.

Understanding the ḥērem

Many scholars and theologians question how a just God could command a practice that would, from a modern standpoint, be understood as genocide.[34] Dunham points out that the practice was not “due solely to ethnic or national identity” and that the slaughter was not systematic and did not result in the total extermination of the Canaanite nations.[35] His point touches on the important fact that we are dealing with a cultural concept thousands of years old, before modern notions of ethnicity and ethnic cleansing came to be defined; if we are to truly understand the ḥērem, we must be careful not to prejudge based on modern interpretive categories. Nevertheless, we must also remember that the Bible is a source of authority in modern discourse, and from this standpoint, Dunham’s point misses the mark. The ḥērem as described in the biblical texts fits the definition of genocide adopted by the United Nations’ Genocide Convention in 1948, since it is an act of killing “committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial or religious group.”[36] Approaching the biblical concept of the ḥērem is thus a difficult venture. The general environment of violence and warfare may help contextualize the practice, even if failing to fully explain it.[37]

It is important to acknowledge that we ultimately know very little about the cultural and theological underpinnings of the ḥērem. This is partially due to the incomplete nature of our sources.[38] But it also seems likely that ancient Israelites themselves lacked a full understanding of the purposes behind God’s commandment. Passages of the Hebrew Bible teach that mortals’ knowledge is dependent on divine revelation and always incomplete (Deuteronomy 29:29; 1 Samuel 16:7; Job 42:1–3; Isaiah 55:8–9). The Lord speaks along similar lines in modern revelation: “Wherefore I, the Lord, command and revoke, as it seemeth me good” (Doctrine and Covenants 56:4); “ye cannot behold with your natural eyes, for the present time, the design of your God concerning those things which shall come hereafter, and the glory which shall follow after much tribulation” (Doctrine and Covenants 58:3). Thus, God’s purposes may be difficult to discern because his knowledge is greater than our own. We may attempt to explain his decrees but may not even realize how many variables we are lacking.

The Book of Mormon example of Nephi slaying Laban gives valuable perspective on this issue. Nephi, having been commanded to obtain the plates of brass and having been thwarted twice by the wicked Laban, is “led by the Spirit” into the city by night and comes upon Laban, who is alone and has fallen down drunk (1 Nephi 3:1–14, 22–27; 4:5–8). The Spirit then urges Nephi to slay Laban. However, Nephi hesitates, saying in his heart, “Never at any time have I shed the blood of man” (1 Nephi 4:10). The Spirit responds, “Slay him, for the Lord hath delivered him into thy hands”—language identical to formulaic oracles associated with the ḥērem (1 Nephi 4:12; compare Numbers 21:34; Joshua 8:1; 10:8; Judges 1:2; 7:9). The Spirit then goes on to reason with Nephi: “Behold the Lord slayeth the wicked to bring forth his righteous purposes. It is better that one man should perish than that a nation should dwindle and perish in unbelief” (1 Nephi 4:13). This leads Nephi to consider the importance of his posterity having access to the law recorded on the plates (1 Nephi 4:14–16). We see Nephi here attempting to comprehend what God is trying to accomplish and why. Ultimately, however, Nephi’s slaying of Laban is an act of submission to God’s will.[39] He had earlier been commanded to get the plates by his father, the prophet Lehi, and now he had received direct revelation from the Spirit confirming and further specifying what he should do (v. 17; compare 3:1–7).

The example of Nephi is instructive in a number of ways. It cautions us against caricaturing ancient Israelites as unquestioning adherents to a culture of violence. Many, like Nephi, may have struggled with the severity of what they were commanded to do. It also suggests that God, when giving a command that seems to go against our knowledge of what is good, may give us personal revelation to confirm that the commandment is of God and to give us a vision of his purposes.[40] But most fundamentally, this example underscores the fact that we may not comprehend all of God’s purposes, no matter how close we get to the ancient context. Some reasons for the ḥērem are given in scripture, including the danger of the Israelites learning Canaanite practices (Deuteronomy 20:18), the keeping of God’s covenant promises (Deuteronomy 7), and revenge (1 Samuel 15:2–3), but we need not assume that these reasons provide a complete picture of God’s purposes. Approaching this subject thus requires caution and academic humility.

With the foregoing caveats, some cultural aspects of the ḥērem are clear from a close examination of biblical and other sources. I will discuss the realia of the practice, how it fits within the ancient Near Eastern culture of religious war, how it reflects the realities of war in the pre-exilic Israelite milieu (particularly with regard to the killing of children), the status of the Canaanites, and the ḥērem as a test.

Realia

The war ḥērem was a ritualized form of destruction employed in battle, not a goal of conquest. The goal, expressed repeatedly throughout the Pentateuch and Joshua, was to “drive out” the wicked Canaanites (Exodus 23:28; 33:2; 34:11; Numbers 33:52, 55; Deuteronomy 4:38; 11:23; Joshua 3:10; 13:6; 17:12, 18).[41] The ḥērem seems to have applied to those who resisted within fortified cities.[42] In Deuteronomy 20:16–18 and throughout the conquest narrative of Joshua, the ḥērem is described in the context of siege warfare.[43] The injunction to “leave alive none that breathe” (Deuteronomy 20:16) must be understood within this context as a battle order, applicable only while the battle lasted.[44] There is no indication in any of these passages of Canaanites being killed outside the heat of battle, with the exception of kings (see below). Thus, the assumption of many interpreters that the ḥērem involved the systematic annihilation of peoples is inaccurate; the actual application was limited to specific fortified cities during battle.[45]

The ḥērem itself involved some form of action intended to destroy. The verb heḥĕrīm often occurs instead of hikkâ, “smite,” in the phrase heḥĕrīm ləpî ḥereb, “perform ḥērem to the mouth of the sword” (Deuteronomy 13:15; Joshua 6:21; 1 Samuel 15:8).[46] Yet the ḥērem was more than simply smiting, for it involved a ritual element that allowed supernatural effects to take place. We see this most clearly in the case of Joshua at the battle of Ai. Having been instructed by God, Joshua, who is standing at some distance from the city, extends his hand with a sickle sword toward the city and does not withdraw it until he has devoted to destruction (heḥĕrīm) all the men of the city (Joshua 8:18–19, 26). While Joshua maintains this gesture, the Israelite forces engage directly with the people of Ai on the battlefield; the situation resembles that in Exodus 17:8–13, in which Moses performs a similar gesture while the Israelites fight the Amalekites.[47] The action of the verb heḥĕrīm in Joshua 8:26 is attributed solely to Joshua, and his ritual gesture is part of the means by which the ḥērem is carried out. Thus, while we lack a detailed knowledge of the techniques involved, it is clear that the ḥērem involved a supernatural exertion of power against the enemy through ritual actions, which fits with the overall concept of divine involvement we have seen in Deuteronomy and Joshua (see especially Deuteronomy 7:17–19; Joshua 10:42).

Some interpreters assume that the ḥērem was a practice carried out on captives after the battle. Von Rad, for example, describes the ḥērem as “the consecration of the booty to Yahweh,” including the slaughter of human beings and animals; and McCarter describes it as “the extermination of every living thing that was captured, including men, women, children, and even livestock.”[48] However, there were not supposed to be captives in the first place.[49] Among all the passages describing the ḥērem, not a single one mentions inhabitants of the city being rounded up for slaughter after the battle. The one exception to this was the enemy king; some passages mention kings being captured and brought to the commander for ritual execution (Joshua 8:23, 29; 10:22–27).[50] This would apparently happen immediately following the fighting; to keep the king alive afterward, as Saul did with the Amalekite king Agag (1 Samuel 15:8–9, 20, 32–33), was tantamount to keeping captives.[51] Material spoils designated as ḥērem at the battle of Jericho were destroyed after the battle by burning or (in the case of metals) placement in the sanctuary of Jehovah, which makes sense from a practical standpoint (Joshua 6:18–19, 24; compare Deuteronomy 7:25–26).

The only biblical text that clearly indicates the timing of the ḥērem with regard to the overall sequence of conquest is Joshua 8:26, which refers to Joshua extending his hand with the sickle sword during the battle (compare Joshua 8:18–19). As Joshua withdraws his hand, the text explicitly states that the act of ḥērem has been accomplished: “For Joshua drew not his hand back . . . until he had utterly destroyed (heḥĕrīm) all the inhabitants of Ai” (8:26). It is only after this that Joshua executes the enemy king by hanging (8:29). In other words, according to the text, the act of ḥērem that targets the city’s population occurs during the battle and is separate from the execution of the king that occurs after the battle. Therefore, if we follow the indications of the text, the ḥērem was applied only during the battle itself and did not include the taking of captives.

Ancient Near Eastern Sources

Inscriptions from the environment of ancient Israel show that the concept of the ḥērem as described in the Bible was a feature of the ancient Near Eastern world in which the conquest narrative takes place. One of these inscriptions is the stela of Mesha, king of Moab, also known as the Moabite Stone (ninth century BC). This stela records Mesha’s conflict with the house of Omri, which ruled the northern kingdom of Israel.[52] The inscription records the destruction of two cities whose treatment matches the biblical descriptions of ḥērem: Ataroth (lines 10–14) and Nebo (lines 14–18). In the latter case, the inscription actually uses the verb hḥrm, the Moabite cognate of the Hebrew heḥĕrīm.[53]

The people of Gad had settled in Ataroth from of old, and the king of Israel built up Ataroth for him.[54] So I fought against the city and seized it. I killed all the people, and the city became an offering for Chemosh and for Moab.[55] I carried away from there its altar-hearth of David and dragged it before Chemosh in Qiryot. I settled the people of Sharon and the peo[ple] of Maharoth in the city.

Then Chemosh said to me, “Go against Israel and seize Nebo!” So I went by night and fought against it from dawn until midday and seized it. I killed all of them: seven thousand men, boys, women, girls, and slave-women, because I had devoted it (hḥrmth) to Ashtar-Chemosh. I took from there [the ves]sels of YHWH and dragged them before Chemosh. (Mesha inscription, lines 10–18)

Thus, ancient Israel’s concept of the ḥērem was shared to some extent by Israel’s neighbor Moab.

Another relevant inscription is that of Karib-Ilu, a mukarrib, or tribal leader, of the Sabaeans in southern Arabia. This inscription, written in Sabaean, is usually dated to the early seventh century BC, since this Karib-Ilu is likely the same one whose gift to Sennacherib of Assyria is mentioned in an Assyrian text dated to 685 BC.[56] Like the Mesha stela, Karib-Ilu’s inscription mentions the consignment of two cities to destruction using the verb hḥrm, the Sabaean cognate of the Hebrew heḥĕrīm.

And he [ut]terly destroyed (hḥrm)[57] the hill-town [. . .] and handed over [DHS]M and TBNY and the DTNT to Almaqah and to Saba. . . .

He confiscated the fields of ẒLM and the fields of ḤMRT, and he irrigated[58] the land of the king of NŠN and (the land) of NŠN itself from the waters of MḎB, and he demolished the wall of his city of NŠN until he eradicated it.

And the city of NŠN he utterly destroyed (hḥrm) by fire. He ordered for him that his palace ˁFRW and his city NŠN should be ravaged. He imposed on NŠN a tribute from the priests. He ordered concerning those of NŠN who were consigned by oracular decree[59] to the gods, that they should be killed. He ordered SMHYFˁ and NŠN that they should let the Sabaeans settle in the city of NŠN, and that SMHYFˁ and NŠN should build a temple of Almaqah in the center of the city of NŠN. (Karib-Ilu Inscription, RES 3945, lines 7, 15–16)

The Mesha and Karib-Ilu inscriptions show remarkable similarities to the accounts of ḥērem in the conquest narrative of Joshua. In particular, we see five key elements of the practice of ḥērem that are common to all three: (1) receipt of a divine oracle ordering the conquest of the city, including in Hebrew texts the formula “I have delivered X into your hand(s)” (Numbers 21:34; Joshua 8:1; 10:8; compare Judges 1:2; 7:9); (2) entering or “taking” of the city; (3) slaying of the populace, described in absolute terms and defined as ḥērem or devoting the city to the deity; (4) taking of booty; and (5) founding of a cult installation.[60] Of the various cities mentioned in the conquest narrative of Joshua, the five elements appear most clearly in the account of the conquest of Ai (Joshua 8). These five elements are outlined in table 3.

Aside from these inscriptions that show especially close links to the biblical ḥērem, a variety of Akkadian, Egyptian, and Hittite texts demonstrate the prevalence of concepts related to the biblical practice, including total destruction in conquest, punitive destruction of cities, and the consecration of conquered property.[63] Appeals to deities in warfare, as well as crediting them for successful campaigns, was also common.

These examples from Israel’s neighbors demonstrate that the ḥērem was part of the ancient Near Eastern culture in which Israel was situated, although the details of the concept may vary.[64] This means that the leaders of the Canaanites would be able to recognize the ḥērem and respond accordingly; if they chose to fight, it was not because they were naïve about the consequences but because they preferred defiance or did not believe that the God of Israel was powerful enough to overcome their defenses. It also means that the concept of the ḥērem as a manifestation of God’s justice was not foreign to the culture of that time, at least among rulers of the nations confronting Israel.

Some recent studies have pointed to the fact that the biblical ḥērem texts, like many other war texts of the ancient Near East, show what Copan and Flannagan call “hagiographic hyperbole.”[65] In the ancient Near Eastern context, divinely mandated war was typically spoken of in absolute terms regardless of the reality of what played out on the ground; to speak otherwise would be to deny God’s might in carrying out his judgments. The hyperbolic style is evident in Akkadian, Hittite, Levantine, and Egyptian texts ranging from mythological narratives to annals.[66] The Mesha inscription is a good example: “I killed all of them: seven thousand men, boys, women, girls, and slave-women, because I had devoted it to Ashtar-Chemosh.” A stela of the Egyptian pharaoh Merneptah, dated to around 1200 BC, is another example; this stela contains the earliest surviving mention of Israel: “Yenoam is made into non-existence; Israel is wasted, its seed is not; and Hurru is become a widow because of Egypt.”[67] As for the biblical texts, there are several indications that the ḥērem did not involve total extermination in actual practice. Some passages describe people consigned to ḥērem later needing to be reconquered—for example, the Anakites and other Canaanite groups in the time of Joshua and the Amalekites in the time of Saul and David (Joshua 10:20, 39; 11:21; 15:13–14; 1 Samuel 15; 27:8–9; 30:11–20).[68]

Therefore, even though the biblical texts mandating the ḥērem use absolute terms, God speaks in these texts according to the exaggerated idiom of that time, and those hearing the commands would know not to apply them literally, at least with regard to the most severe cases.[69] What actually played out was likely not wholesale extermination, though still more violent than typical conflict. Many Canaanites likely fled and sought refuge elsewhere. Some women and children were undoubtedly killed, as is typical in siege warfare, but they may not have been singled out for slaughter as the texts would imply if taken at face value. Of course, any loss of life is tragic and saddening, and legislation elsewhere in Deuteronomy shows a concern for the protection of women captured in war (Deuteronomy 21:10–14), so it seems unlikely that the lives of women and children are not a concern for the author.[70] It is important to note that this approach does not remove the charge of genocide raised by modern critics. What this approach does accomplish, however, is to understand God’s instructions on warfare within the cultural context of that time and region. It also shows that we may not have all the variables as we try to interpret this sensitive issue. The approach suggests that a large part of the issue with the ḥērem for modern readers has to do with the cultural gap between us and the biblical writers.

Killing of Children

The killing of young children in the ḥērem seems particularly cruel, prompting statements like that of Thom Stark, “At what point are infants and children so wicked that they deserve to be slaughtered?”[71] Such statements are compelling from an emotional standpoint, but they show no awareness of the realities of war, particularly in the ancient Near Eastern context. Peter C. Craigie, in his discussion of religious war (including the practice of ḥērem) in the Bible, appeals to the Prussian soldier and war philosopher Carl von Clausewitz to argue that by eschewing a principle of moderation, the biblical laws of war are “thoroughly pragmatic in a military sense.”[72] He critiques the “Just War” ideal of Ambrose and Augustine that prohibits unnecessary violence in battle:

If war is to be waged at all, it must be done thoroughly. There are no half-measures in war; it is not a game to be played casually. Just because a war may be carried out within the perspectives of religion does not mean that the war will somehow be “nicer” and not quite so horrifying as secular warfare. The theory and practice of war in ancient Israel destroy any illusions we may have about war being “not all that bad,” a kind of sport played by gentlemen. The war narratives of the Old Testament are a safer guide to the reality of war than are the various formulations of the “Just War” theory that have emerged in the history of Christianity.[73]

Craigie’s observations are perceptive not only from a modern standpoint but especially for the Bible’s ancient context. The ḥērem was typically performed in the context of siege warfare, in which the inhabitants of the city were cut off from life-sustaining supplies until the walls were breached and the attacking army could enter (Deuteronomy 20:10–20; Joshua 6:1). Egyptian reliefs show the people of besieged Canaanite cities dangling children from the walls; whether to a local deity or the attacking Pharaoh, it is clear that the adult inhabitants of the cities were sacrificing their children to protect themselves.[74] The sacrificing of a firstborn son to a deity in response to a siege is also attested in 2 Kings 3:26–27 and possibly also in an Ugaritic ritual text.[75] In such a cultural environment, the conquest of the city would necessarily entail the deaths of innocent children.

With regard to royal children specifically, replacing a regime necessarily entailed eliminating the posterity who could otherwise continue or renew the regime. Jehu, for example, required the deaths of all seventy of Ahab’s sons (2 Kings 10:1–11). Athaliah likewise tried to wipe out the children of her son Ahaziah; one son, Joash, survived and became her downfall (2 Kings 11:1–16). Indeed, the warriors of Joshua did not have to look far into their recent history to find an example of a baby rescued from death who became a formidable national leader (Exodus 2:1–10).

None of these observations condone the killing of children or the overall violence of the ḥērem; a modern perspective would prefer no violent occupation at all. However, these observations help contextualize the ḥērem in terms of the difficult circumstances in which it would play out. Once the Israelites embarked on a path of conquest, cultural facts would not allow them to simply march in and liberate the innocent.[76]

Status of the Canaanites

One approach to the biblical ḥērem texts argues that the command was a “just punishment,” since the Canaanites were engaged in wicked practices that the Lord considered abominable (Deuteronomy 20:18).[77] This approach has been critiqued from a number of angles, some of which have already been addressed above.[78] Among the critiques is that of Stark, who argues (from silence) that God neglected to warn the Canaanites of the destruction.[79] The “just punishment” approach and the objections to it raise the question of the status of the Canaanites during Israel’s entry into the promised land. Were they ignorant heathens or were they apostates with a more extensive history of dealings with the true God? The Bible hints at the latter possibility in its brief descriptions of Melchizedek, a Canaanite king living generations before the Israelite conquest, as a “priest of the most high God” who blesses Abraham (Genesis 14:18–20; Psalm 110:4; Hebrews 7:1–10).[80] Restoration scripture enlarges this picture considerably, showing that Melchizedek preached repentance to his people, who then became righteous, and that he ordained Abraham to the priesthood (Alma 13:14–19; JST Genesis 14:25–40; Doctrine and Covenants 84:14).[81] Of more immediate relevance to the status of the Canaanites at the time of the conquest, however, is 1 Nephi 17. Here Nephi, in a speech to his brothers, draws on cultural memory of the conquest as he refers to the wickedness of the Canaanites:

And now, do ye suppose that the children of this land, who were in the land of promise, who were driven out by our fathers, do ye suppose that they were righteous? Behold, I say unto you, Nay. . . . Behold, the Lord esteemeth all flesh in one; he that is righteous is favored of God. But behold, this people had rejected every word of God, and they were ripe in iniquity; and the fulness of the wrath of God was upon them; and the Lord did curse the land against them, and bless it unto our fathers; yea, he did curse it against them unto their destruction, and he did bless it unto our fathers unto their obtaining power over it. (1 Nephi 17:33, 35)

Nephi’s understanding of the Canaanite destruction is insightful in at least three ways. First, it puts the Canaanites’ wickedness in the context of a history of dealings with God—the same God who covenanted with the Israelites and led them into the land. The Canaanites had, according to Nephi, had the word of God preached to them, but they rejected it. Nephi’s words imply more than a passing call to repentance: they “had rejected every word of God,” and they had implicitly once been favored but were now “ripe in iniquity,” implying a lengthy process of moral decline. Thus, contrary to Stark, God had not neglected to warn the Canaanites. Second, this demonstrates once again how limited our knowledge is based on the scarce records at our disposal. This serves as a reminder of the perils of making sweeping judgments concerning God’s decree of the ḥērem, as some interpreters do. Third, Nephi’s description adds a new perspective on God’s purposes in the decree. Unlike Deuteronomy 20:17–18, which cites God’s desire to protect the Israelites from idolatrous influence, Nephi focuses on God’s direct relationship with the Canaanites and with the Israelites. The main issue, according to Nephi, is righteousness: regardless of ethnicity or nationality, “he that is righteous is favored of God.” In using the singular, Nephi highlights the personal nature of God’s awareness. From this perspective, the ḥērem was a means by which God could carry out his purposes on an individual level, cursing the land to some “unto their destruction” and blessing it to others “unto their obtaining power over it.”

The language of Nephi’s description strongly resembles statements by Book of Mormon prophets from Nephi’s father Lehi to Mormon concerning the Nephites in their own land of promise. Before the destruction of the Nephites, they were warned that because of their wickedness and secret combinations, the land would be cursed if they did not repent before they were fully ripe in iniquity (2 Nephi 1:7, 22; Jacob 2:29; 3:3; Alma 37:31; 45:16; Helaman 13:30, 36; Mormon 1:17, 18). Mormon saw in the Nephites a fulfillment of the words of Samuel the Lamanite that their time of probation was past and their destruction was made sure (Helaman 13:32, 38; Mormon 2:12–15)—not because they had exhausted the Lord’s goodness, but because they did not want it. They “sought for happiness in doing iniquity,” which was contrary to the nature of God’s righteousness (Helaman 13:38); their sorrowing, according to Mormon, “was not unto repentance, because of the goodness of God; but it was rather the sorrowing of the damned, because the Lord would not always suffer them to take happiness in sin” (Mormon 2:13). When faced with destruction, they eschewed repentance and “did curse God, and wish to die,” though “they would struggle with the sword for their lives” (Mormon 2:14). At last, they were “hewn down in open rebellion against their God” (Mormon 2:15). These passages, together with Nephi’s description, suggest that those Canaanites who were destroyed through ḥērem were not just wicked but rebelliously so. Having once been acquainted with the word of God, they likely knew the consequences, including the danger to their children. Yet they chose to reject God’s mercy and fight until the bitter end. All of this underscores the importance of righteousness, humility, and repentance, which are crucial lessons of the ḥērem.

Ḥērem as a Test

Among the covenant-related teachings of Deuteronomy, including God’s promise to dispossess the Canaanites through the ḥērem, is the doctrine that God proves his people. The forty years in the wilderness, the feeding of the children of Israel with manna, and even the possibility of a prophet whose signs come to pass but who would lead the people to idolatry are all presented as tests by which God tries his people’s hearts and their willingness to keep his commandments (Deuteronomy 8:2, 16; 13:1–3). We see this concept elsewhere in scripture, too, such as in God testing Abraham by commanding him to offer up Isaac as a sacrifice (Genesis 22:1–2, 12, 15–18). Likewise, the ḥērem functioned at least in part to test Israel’s willingness to obey.[82]

The ḥērem also tested the Canaanites. Joshua 11:18–20 implies that the Canaanite cities had the possibility of making peace with the Israelites; however, they hardened their hearts, with the exception of Gibeon, whose inhabitants tricked Joshua into making a covenant with them (Joshua 9:3–27).[83] Rahab and her family, who are not mentioned in Joshua 11:18–20, are the only other known exception. These are the only ones who ask for mercy in the text, and they obtain it. This underscores the notion stated above, that the Canaanites as a people were in a state of rebellion against God, rejecting mercy even when faced with destruction. Yet those who responded differently were saved.

The contrasting reactions of Rahab and Achan, both centered around the battle of Jericho (Joshua 2; 6–7), serve as an illustration of how the ḥērem simultaneously tested the Israelites and the Canaanites.[84] Rahab, a Canaanite harlot and thus the quintessential outsider, distinguishes herself as one who truly sees God’s work. While harboring the spies sent by Joshua, she declares to them: “I know that the Lord hath given you the land . . . for the Lord your God, he is God in heaven above, and in earth beneath” (Joshua 2:9, 11). Her request for mercy employs covenant language: “Now therefore, I pray you, swear unto me by the Lord, since I have shewed you kindness (ḥesed), that ye will also shew kindness (ḥesed) unto my father’s house, and give me a true token” (Joshua 2:12).[85] The kindness she asks for is granted, and Rahab and her father’s family are allowed to remain in the land; through her descent comes the royal line of David.

Achan appears at first to be the quintessential insider: an Israelite soldier of the tribe of Judah. During the attack on Jericho, he covets and retains some of the spoils that are under the ḥērem: a fine Mesopotamian mantle, a quantity of silver, and a bar of gold (Joshua 7:1, 21). His transgression leads to the failure of the first attack on Ai (Joshua 7:1–5). As a result, Achan and his family become objects of the ḥērem themselves (Joshua 7:22–26; compare Deuteronomy 7:25–26).

Rahab is thus revealed in the end to be the true insider, essentially taking the place of Achan in the very same tribe of Judah.[86] Younger notes the irony of Achan’s case: not only is he an insider who fails the test in contrast to the outsider Rahab, but if he had only waited until the battle of Ai in the following chapter, he would have received the plunder that God granted to the Israelites in that case. The lesson, writes Younger, is one of trusting or waiting on Jehovah and obeying his word. “God’s goodness and fairness were at issue with Achan. He did not believe that God was being fair to him in Jericho’s ḥerem and seized what belonged to God. Faith in God would have brought different results.”[87] The essential message of these contrasting cases is that the ḥērem is not primarily about ethnicity or nationality but about one’s personal attitude toward God. As Nephi puts it, “The Lord esteemeth all flesh in one; he that is righteous is favored of God” (1 Nephi 17:35)—or, in Rahab’s case, “she that is righteous.”

Conclusion

The war ḥērem as described in the Bible involves the devotion of rebellious cities, including at least the human inhabitants and often livestock, material spoils, and buildings, to God’s domain through a ritualized form of destruction. In the prescriptive texts of Deuteronomy and the conquest narrative of Joshua, the ḥērem is presented as a means by which God fulfills his covenant to give Israel the promised land. While the ḥērem poses many moral and theological dilemmas, we ultimately know very little about the practice, and this should caution us against sweeping judgments about God’s character. Nevertheless, there are some insights we can gain from a close examination of the biblical texts, relevant Near Eastern sources, and Restoration scripture.

Concerning the realia of the ḥērem, the likelihood that it was limited to the heat of battle means that it was not as total as is sometimes imagined, and the ritual nature of the practice would foreground the supernatural role of God in carrying out the destruction. Ancient Near Eastern sources describe similar practices, showing that the ḥērem was part of the common ideology of war among Israel’s neighbors. These same sources demonstrate the tendency to “hagiographic hyperbole,” which is also likely present in the biblical texts. The impression of total annihilation given in some passages is therefore not an accurate reflection of the historical reality. Yet the killing of children, which is saddening by any measure no matter how many were killed, must be understood within the ancient context as a grim reality of war.

Thanks to the Book of Mormon, we know that God’s destruction of Canaanite cities was not arbitrary but a consequence of their rebellious status before him. Rahab and Achan demonstrate contrasting responses to the ḥērem, the one turning to God and obtaining mercy, and the other turning away and suffering destruction. From this perspective, we can see that the ḥērem had nothing to do with ethnic or national affiliation and everything to do with personal righteousness and willingness to maintain a covenant relationship with the Lord. As the prophet Isaiah made clear, Israel itself would be subject to the same punishment if they did not repent (Isaiah 5:25). But even in the midst of that punishment, there would be a possibility of mercy:

Therefore the Lord shall set up the adversaries of Rezin against him, and join his enemies together; the Syrians before, and the Philistines behind; and they shall devour Israel with open mouth. For all this his anger is not turned away, but his hand is stretched out still. For the people turneth not unto him that smiteth them, neither do they seek the Lord of hosts. (Isaiah 9:11–13)

This prophecy gives us a window into God’s dealings with his children in all ages, equally applicable to the ancient Israelite ḥērem and to our own time. Even as he extends his hand to smite, if we turn to him, he is ready to extend mercy.

Notes

[1] Michael Walzer, “The Idea of Holy War in Ancient Israel,” Journal of Religious Ethics 20, no. 2 (1992): 215–28, with further references cited by Walzer.

[2] On the religious nature of the ḥērem in general, see Tremper Longman III, “The Case for Spiritual Continuity,” in Show Them No Mercy: Four Views on God and Canaanite Genocide, ed. C. S. Cowles et al. (Zondervan, 2003), 164. On the use of hyperbole, see Paul Copan and Matthew Flannagan, Did God Really Command Genocide? Coming to Terms with the Justice of God (Baker Books, 2014), 84–124.

[3] K. Lawson Younger Jr., Eerdmans Commentary on the Bible: Joshua (Eerdmans, 2019), 180.

[4] For an overview of the occurrences, see Francis Brown et al. A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament (Clarendon, 1906), 355–56.

[5] See Brown, Driver, and Briggs, Hebrew and English Lexicon, 355–56; Ludwig Koehler and Walter Baumgartner, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (Brill, 1994–2000), 1:353–54, hereafter HALOT; Hans Wehr, A Dictionary of Modern Written Arabic, 4th ed. (Harrassowitz, 1979), 201.

[6] K. Lawson Younger Jr., The NIV Application Commentary: Judges, Ruth (Zondervan, 2002), 33–34.

[7] Younger, Judges, 32; HALOT, 1:354; Norbert Lohfink, “Ḥāram,” in Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament, ed. G. Johannes Botterweck and Helmer Ringgren (Eerdmans, 1974), 5:183–89.

[8] The kind of city to which the law applies is defined as “one of your cities, which Jehovah your God has given you to dwell there” (Deuteronomy 13:12).

[9] For the meaning of the phrase ˁam səgullâ as “sealed people,” see Hugh Nibley, “On the Sacred and the Symbolic,” in Temples of the Ancient World, ed. Donald W. Parry (Deseret Book, 1994), 543, 559; Alexander Militarev, Lingvisticheskaia Rekonstruktsiia I Drevneishaia Istoriia Vostoka (Moscow, 1984), 16; David Calabro, “Rolling Out the Etymology of Northwest Semitic sglt,” Studi Magrebini 6 (2008): 63–78.

[10] Kyle C. Dunham, “Yahweh War and Ḥerem: The Role of Covenant, Land, and Purity in the Conquest of Canaan,” Detroit Baptist Seminary Journal 21 (2016): 28–29, also emphasizes the covenant aspect of the ḥērem, focusing particularly on Israel’s divinely covenanted relationship to the promised land. Eugene H. Merrill, “The Case for Moderate Discontinuity,” in Show Them No Mercy, ed. C. S. Cowles et al., 74–80, emphasizes God’s covenantal father-son relationship with Israel and his role as deliverer according to the covenant promises. See also Millard C. Lind, Yahweh Is a Warrior: The Theology of Warfare in Ancient Israel (Herald, 1980), 146–49.

[11] Yigal Levin, “The Wars of Joshua: Weaning Away from the Divine,” in War and Peace in Jewish Tradition: From the Biblical World to the Present, ed. Yigal Levin and Amnon Shapira (Routledge, 2012), 37–38; Lind, Yahweh Is a Warrior, 77–85; John A. Wood, Perspectives on War in the Bible (Mercer University Press, 1998), 53–54. According to Thomas Römer, “Joshua’s Encounter with the Commander of Yhwh’s Army (Josh 5:13–15): Literary Construction or Reflection of a Royal Ritual?,” in Warfare, Ritual, and Symbol in Biblical and Modern Contexts, ed. Brad E. Kelle et al. (Society of Biblical Literature, 2014), 53–54, “the apparition of the divine warrior in Josh 5:13 can be understood as accomplishing the promise made in Exod 23:20,” namely the promise that he will send his angel to lead the Israelites in the conquest.

[12] On the meaning of the Hebrew word kîdôn, translated in KJV as “spear” but more likely meaning “sickle sword,” see J. Carmignac, “Précisions apportées au vocabulaire de l’Hébreu biblique par la guerre des fils de lumière contre les fils de tenebre,” Vetus Testamentum 5, no. 4 (1955): 357–59; G. Molin, “What Is a Kidon?” Journal of Semitic Studies 1 (1956): 334–37; Yigael Yadin, The Scroll of the War of the Sons of Light Against the Sons of Darkness (Oxford University Press, 1962), 124–31; Othmar Keel, Wirkmächtige Siegeszeichen im Alten Testament: Ikonographische Studien zu Jos 8:18–26; Ex 17:8–13; 2 Kön 13:14–19 und 1 Kön 22:11 (Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1974), 21–26.

[13] Philip D. Stern, The Biblical Ḥerem: A Window on Israel’s Religious Experience (Scholars Press, 1991), 74–75; Dunham, “Yahweh War,” 26–27.

[14] See Schade in this volume.

[15] Moshe Greenberg, “Ḥerem,” in Encyclopedia Judaica, 2nd ed., 9:12, states that the extreme treatment of Jericho “has the character of a firstfruits offering: The first spoils of Canaan are wholly devoted to God.” Dunham, “Yahweh War,” 15, suggests that Jericho’s total destruction was a “warning or exemplar . . . that Yahweh was claiming divine right over the land as a whole in order to bequeath it to Israel.” Later in the same study (page 27), he also suggests that this extreme application of the ḥērem was “related to morally depraved populations of a particularly egregious sort that have flouted covenant stipulations.” However, to assume this in the case of Jericho involves going beyond what is stated in the biblical text, which gives no reason for the singling out of Jericho.

[16] Brown et.al, Hebrew and English Lexicon, 675 (“every breathing thing”); HALOT, 2:730 (“living being”); NRSV Deuteronomy 20:16 (“you must not let anything that breathes remain alive”); Robert Alter, The Hebrew Bible, vol. 1, The Five Books of Moses (W. W. Norton, 2019), 686 (“you shall let no breathing creature live,” with note: “It is hard to find any mitigation for the ferocity of this injunction to total destruction”). Peter C. Craigie, The Problem of War in the Old Testament (Eerdmans, 1978), 45, writes along similar lines: “Such cities were to be besieged, and after they had fallen, all living creatures within the cities were to be put to death.”

[17] In addition to Joshua 6:21, the commandment to perform the ḥērem against the Amalekites in 1 Samuel 15:3 explicitly mentions that the livestock should be killed; in both instances, this may be considered an ad hoc stipulation rather than a normal part of the ḥērem. Significantly, neither of these passages uses the phrase kol-nəšāmâ. David Clines, in his context-based dictionary, correctly defines nəšāmâ in Deuteronomy 20:16 and Joshua 11:11, 14 as “person, soul.” See David Clines, The Dictionary of Classical Hebrew (Sheffield Academic, 2001), 5:779. See also S. R. Driver, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Deuteronomy (T&T Clark, 1896), 239; J. P. U. Lilley, “Understanding the Herem,” Tyndale Bulletin 44, no. 1 (1993): 174n25.

[18] See Robert G. Boling, The Anchor Bible: Joshua (Doubleday, 1982), 242.

[19] Dunham, “Yahweh War,” 27. The correct term is devastation pronouncement, not curse (Dunham uses both terms), since the land and things that are destroyed are thereby assigned to the Lord’s ownership and thus off-limits to humans; they are not cursed. In Joshua 6:26, Joshua is cursing the person who builds Jericho, not the land itself. And in Deuteronomy 7:26; 13:17 (Hebrew Bible v. 18), the Hebrew word behind KJV “cursed thing” is ḥērem.

[20] Dunham, “Yahweh War,” 26–28.

[21] For background on the various approaches to the historicity and date of the conquest, see Paul J. Ray Jr., “Classical Models for the Appearance of Israel in Palestine,” in Critical Issues in Early Israelite History, ed. Richard S. Hess et al. (Eisenbrauns, 2008), 79–93.

[22] See Amnon Ben-Tor and Sharon Zuckerman, “Hazor at the End of the Late Bronze Age: Back to Basics,” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 350 (2008): 1–6.

[23] Amihai Mazar, Archaeology of the Land of the Bible, 10,000–586 B.C.E. (Doubleday, 1992), 330–32.

[24] See Boling, Joshua, 68.

[25] Walzer, “Idea of Holy War,” 215–28.

[26] Walzer, “Idea of Holy War,” 224, citing Weinfeld.

[27] Alter, Hebrew Bible, 1:686, expresses the problem eloquently: “Since the archaeological evidence suggests that the ‘ban’ was never actually implemented, it seems to be the projection in legal imperative of a militant fantasy—but surely a dangerous fantasy.”

[28] Walzer, “Idea of Holy War,” 223.

[29] Richard S. Hess, “The Jericho and Ai of the Book of Joshua,” in Critical Issues in Early Israelite History, ed. Richard S. Hess et al. (Eisenbrauns, 2008), 33–46.

[30] Hess, “Jericho and Ai,” 35–36, 39, 45–46.

[31] Thom Stark, Is God a Moral Compromiser? A Critical Review of Paul Copan’s “Is God a Moral Monster?,” 2nd ed. (pub. online by author, 2011), 280–94 (arguing against Hess and the elaborated use of Hess’s article by Copan); Anthony Milner, A Theology of Genocide?: Reading Deuteronomy 20 (Sheffield Phoenix, 2021), 109–10 (arguing against Copan). A key point in these arguments is the contrast between the treatment of foreign and Canaanite cities in Deuteronomy 20:10–18, the former involving the sparing of the women and children and the latter involving a more complete slaughter. On pages 38–39 of Hess’s article, he argues against the plain significance of the phrases “men and women, young and old,” but without substantial support.

[32] Bryant G. Wood, “The Search for Joshua’s Ai,” in Critical Issues, 205–40.

[33] The crucial issue in the commandment and in the ensuing reprimand according to 1 Samuel 15 is Saul’s obedience, as Samuel makes clear in his statement to Saul, “to obey is better than sacrifice” (1 Samuel 15:22). On the chapter’s emphasis on this principle, see P. Kyle McCarter Jr., Anchor Bible: 1 Samuel (Doubleday, 1980), 270. One could suggest that Saul’s failure to kill all the Amalekites left the door open to later Amalekite aggression, which occurs in 1 Samuel 30:1–6. This would be similar to Ahab’s failure to kill the Syrian king Ben-Hadad in a similar situation (1 Kings 20:42), resulting in Ahab’s later death at the hand of the Syrians (1 Kings 22). However, the text in 1 Samuel 15 does not indicate a problem in carrying out the required destruction of the human population other than the king, and even he is eventually put to death by Samuel (1 Samuel 15:7–8, 20, 32–33). Given that the text does not make a point of the fact that many of the Amalekites survived, it seems that Saul’s crucial error was not that he failed to kill the king and the livestock, but that he retained them, thus making his refusal to kill them blatant. On this concept, see Younger, Judges, 33–34.

[34] See C. S. Cowles, “The Case for Radical Discontinuity,” in Show Them No Mercy, ed. C. S. Cowles et al., 13–44; Wes Morriston, “Ethical Criticism of the Bible: The Case of Divinely Mandated Genocide,” Sophia 51 (2012): 117–35.

[35] Dunham, “Yahweh War,” 7n5.

[36] OED Online, under “genocide, n.” See also the remarks of Copan and Flannagan, Did God Really Command Genocide?, 125–30.

[37] See overview in Aaron Schade in this volume.

[38] Lohfink, “Ḥāram,” 188, gives a list of unanswered questions to illustrate how little the biblical text reveals.

[39] Charles Swift, “‘The Lord Slayeth the Wicked’: Coming to Terms with Nephi Killing Laban,” Journal of Book of Mormon Studies 28 (2019): 137–69.

[40] The pattern of prophetic teaching followed by diligent seeking and the receiving of personal revelation is a prominent theme in Nephi’s record. See 1 Nephi 2:16–24; 10:17–19; 11:1–6; 15:1–11.

[41] For extensive discussion, see Copan and Flannagan, Did God Really Command Genocide?, 76–83. Compare 1 Nephi 17:32–33: “And after [the children of Israel] had crossed the river Jordan [God] did make them mighty unto the driving out of the children of the land, yea, unto the scattering them to destruction. And now, do ye suppose that the children of this land, who were in the land of promise, who were driven out by our fathers, do ye suppose that they were righteous?” (emphasis added).

[42] Copan and Flannagan, Did God Really Command Genocide?, 79.

[43] Compare the explicit mention of laying siege in Deuteronomy 20:12, 19, which establishes the context for the law of the ḥērem in vv. 16–18.

[44] Given that the injunction in Deuteronomy 20:16 contrasts with verse 14, in which the women and children of foreign cities are not only to be left alive but taken as spoils of war, the injunction is perhaps equivalent to the modern English command “Take no prisoners.” To my knowledge, commentators have not noted the significance of the context in limiting the applicability of this phrase.

[45] Yair Hoffman, “The Deuteronomistic Concept of the Herem,” Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 111 (1999): 196, writes of the “total annihilation of the autochthonic population of Canaan.” Greenberg, “Herem,” 12–13, mentions “the blanket proscription of the Canaanites” and “the accounts of its systematic application” without giving references. Morriston, “Ethical Criticism,” 120, refers in unqualified terms to “the extermination of the Canaanites.” Daniel L. Gard, “The Case for Eschatological Continuity,” in Show Them No Mercy, ed. C. S. Cowles et al., 116, paraphrases the law in Deuteronomy 20:16–18 thus: “The Hittites, the Amorites, the Canaanites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites were to be utterly destroyed so that nothing that breathed should live.” By leaving out the mention of cities and the context of siege warfare, this paraphrase gives the misleading impression that the ḥērem targeted entire peoples. Examples like these are myriad.

[46] On the idiom to the mouth of the sword, translated in the KJV as “with the edge of the sword” but more likely meaning “up to the hilt,” see Theophile J. Meek, “Archaeology and a Point in Hebrew Syntax,” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 122 (1951): 31–33. Several verses also describe smiting to the mouth of the sword and devoting to destruction (heḥĕrīm) together, either in sequence or in apposition: see Joshua 10:28, 35, 37, 39; 11:11, 12. However, it would not be correct to say that the ḥērem is a form of combat, since there is no record of a target countering it, and since it could be directed at small children. (I wish to thank my Sifu, Carlos Colorado, for pointing out to me this important distinction.)

[47] On the ritual gesture in these instances, see David Calabro, “Ritual Gestures of Lifting, Extending, and Clasping the Hand(s) in Northwest Semitic Literature and Iconography” (PhD diss., University of Chicago, 2014), 59–62, 73–84, 188–223. See also Boling, Joshua, 241–42.

[48] McCarter, 1 Samuel, 266; von Rad, Holy War, 49–50. Longman, “Case for Spiritual Continuity,” 172, is even more explicit in placing the ḥērem after the battle, the march back to the sanctuary, and the celebration. He writes, “In terms of the prisoners of war and the captured citizens of an enemy town, [the ḥerem] meant only one thing: death.”

[49] Younger, Judges, 33–34.

[50] See Nicolas Wyatt, “Arms and the King: The Earliest Allusions to the Chaoskampf Motif and Their Implications for the Interpretation of the Ugaritic and Biblical Traditions,” in “Und Mose schrieb dieses Lied auf”: Studien zum Alten Testament und zum Alten Orient [. . .], ed. Manfried Dietrich and Ingo Kottsieper (Ugarit-Verlag, 1998), 866.

[51] There is a parallel between Achan’s retention of spoils from Jericho (Joshua 7), Saul’s failure to kill the best of the livestock and King Agag after the victory over the Amalekites (1 Samuel 15), and Ahab of Israel’s failure to kill the Aramaean king Ben-Hadad (1 Kings 20), each of these being instances of transgression of the ḥērem that bring terrible consequences. Note that Samuel performs the ritual execution of Agag in 1 Samuel 15:32–33.

[52] The rebellion of Mesha of Moab against Israel is mentioned in 2 Kings 3:4–5 and took place in the ninth century BC.

[53] Note that 2 Chronicles 20:23 mentions Ammon and Moab performing ḥērem against the inhabitants of Mount Seir (the Edomites), which goes with the fact that this concept was known among the non-Israelite Transjordanian societies, including Moab.

[54] Numbers 32:34 mentions the people of Gad building up Ataroth, perhaps offering an additional Israelite connection to the story of Mesha.

[55] On the reading “the city became an offering . . . ,” see Aaron Schade, “RYT or HYT in Line 12 of the Mesha Inscription: A New Examination of the Stele and the Squeeze, and the Syntactic, Literary, and Cultic Implications of the Reading,” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 378 (2017): 145–62.

[56] Lauren A. S. Monroe, “Israelite, Moabite and Sabaean War-ḥērem Traditions and the Forging of National Identity:Reconsidering the Sabaean Text RES 3945 in Light of Biblical and Moabite Evidence,” Vetus Testamentum 57 (2007): 327–31.

[57] Rhodokanakis and Beeston initially rendered the verb as “forbade to be burnt” or “prevented from being burnt.” See Nikolaus Rhodokanakis, Altsabäische Texte I (Hölder-Pichler-Tempsky A.-G., 1927), 19–78; A. F. L. Beeston, Sabaean Inscriptions (Oxford, 1937), 64. This translation was revised by Beeston; see A. F. L. Beeston, “Review of Chr. Robin, L’Arabie antique de Karib’îl à Mahomet,” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 3, no. 3 (1993): 433. This revised interpretation is now generally agreed upon. See further Monroe, “Israelite, Moabite and Sabaean War-ḥērem Traditions,” 320, 331–35.

[58] The verb here, fqḥ (literally “opened”), may have the sense “flooded,” or it may connote the taking over of the land by controlling its irrigation. See Beeston, Sabaean Inscriptions, 70; A. F. L. Beeston et al., Sabaic Dictionary (Peeters, 1982), 45; Joan Copeland Biella, Dictionary of Old South Arabic: Sabaean Dialect (Scholars Press, 1982), 408.

[59] Literally, “those whose oracular decree had come out.” The wording may allude to a practice of casting lots to determine the will of the gods. See Beeston, Sabaean Inscriptions, 70.

[60] Different outlines of the pattern of ḥērem have been described by Gerhard von Rad, Holy War in Ancient Israel, trans. Marva J. Dawn (Wipf and Stock, 1991), 41–51; S. Segert, “Die Sprache der moabtischen Königsinschrift,” Archiv orientální 29 (1961): 238–39; Lohfink, “Ḥāram,” 189; Monroe, “Israelite, Moabite and Sabaean War-ḥērem Traditions,” 325, 335.

[61] The destruction of the city by fire is similar to Joshua 6:24 (Jericho); 8:19 (Ai); 11:11, 13 (Hazor). The Karib-Ilu inscription (line 16) also mentions the killing of a subset of the captives “consigned by oracular decree to the gods.” This seems to be a separate practice from the ḥērem, though the two practices may be related.

[62] Monroe, “Israelite, Moabite and Sabaean War-ḥērem Traditions,” 323, explicitly compares the building of the altar on Ebal with the building of cult installations in the Mesha stela and the Karib-Ilu inscription. Mount Ebal is a considerable distance north of Ai. However, as it is approximately equidistant from Hazor and Debir, the northernmost and southernmost cities consigned to the ḥērem in the conquest narrative of Joshua, the altar on Mount Ebal may have been set up as a cult installation for all the cities consigned to the ḥērem.

[63] Stern, Biblical Ḥerem, 67–87; Ada Taggar-Cohen, “Between Ḥerem, Ownership, and Ritual: Biblical and Hittite Perspectives,” in Current Issues in Priestly and Related Literature: The Legacy of Jacob Milgrom and Beyond, ed. Roy E. Gane and Ada Taggar-Cohen (SBL, 2015), 419–34. Stern includes a proposed Ugaritic parallel, but this parallel is problematic and likely illusory. See Gregorio del Olmo Lete and Joaquín Sanmartín, A Dictionary of the Ugaritic Language in the Alphabet Tradition, 2nd rev. ed. (Brill, 2004), 1:404.

[64] Younger, Judges, 36, points out two ways in which the Israelite ḥērem differs from that of its neighbors: (1) “The biblical text in its foundational delineation connects the implementation of the herem to issues of idolatry (Exod 22:20; 23:20–33)”; and (2) “The biblical text links the herem with the covenant (treaty) of Yahweh with Israel and, therefore, with his character.” Both of these points are very insightful. However, one could also see idolatry as akin to rebellion and to a clash between deities, both of which are concepts characteristic of the Near Eastern texts; and many of these same texts show a filial relationship between the king and the patron deity, which is at least analogous to the covenant that underlies the biblical ḥērem.

[65] K. Lawson Younger Jr., Ancient Conquest Accounts: A Study in Ancient Near Eastern and Biblical History Writing (JSOT, 1990), 227–28; Copan and Flannagan, Did God Really Command Genocide?, 94–108.

[66] Younger, Ancient Conquest Accounts, 190–92 (Egyptian), 227–28 (Egyptian, Moabite, Assyrian, and Hittite).

[67] Translated by James K. Hoffmeier, in The Context of Scripture, ed. William W. Hallo and K. Lawson Younger Jr. (Brill, 2003), 2:40–41.

[68] Copan and Flannagan, Did God Really Command Genocide?, 85–90, 109–17.

[69] See Schade in this volume.

[70] Walzer, “Idea of Holy War,” 222.

[71] Stark, Is God a Moral Compromiser?, 210; Milner, Theology of Genocide, 108, quotes this statement and adds further comments.

[72] Craigie, Problem of War, 46–47. On page 46, Craigie quotes von Clausewitz as saying, “To introduce into the philosophy of war itself a principle of moderation would be an absurdity.”

[73] Craigie, Problem of War, 52–53.

[74] See Philippe Derchain, “Les plus anciens témoignages de sacrifices d’enfants chez les Sémites occidentaux,” Vetus Testamentum 20, no. 3 (1970): 351–55; Othmar Keel, “Kanaanäische Sühneriten auf ägyptischen Tempelreliefs,” Vetus Testamentum 25, no. 2 (1975): 413–69; Anthony J. Spalinger, “A Canaanite Ritual Found in Egyptian Reliefs,” Journal of the Society for the Study of Egyptian Antiquities 8, no. 1 (1977): 47–60; V. A. Donohue, “A Gesture of Submission,” in Studies in Pharaonic Religion and Society in Honour of J. Gwyn Griffiths, ed. Alan B. Lloyd (Egypt Exploration Society, 1992), 82–114.

[75] Spalinger, “Canaanite Ritual”; Dennis Pardee, Ritual and Cult at Ugarit (SBL, 2002), 53.

[76] Compare the complicated arrangement that was necessary to ensure the safety of Rahab’s family: Joshua 2:18–21; 6:22–25.

[77] Usually cited are sexual offences and child sacrifice, with reference to Leviticus 18 and Deuteronomy 12:29–31. See Copan and Flannagan, Did God Really Command Genocide?, 66–68; Milner, Theology of Genocide, 107–9.

[78] Some interpreters point out the disconnect with the slaying of innocent children and the brutalizing use of righteous humans as agents in the slaughter (rather than other wicked people, disease, or natural disaster, all of which God employs in other scriptural accounts). See Morriston, “Ethical Criticism,” 125; Milner, Theology of Genocide, 106, 108; Cowles, “Case for Radical Discontinuity,” 17–18.

[79] Stark, Is God a Moral Compromiser?, 32, 211.

[80] Cowles, “Case for Radical Discontinuity,” 44, mentions Melchizedek alongside Rahab as a righteous Canaanite, representative of those destroyed by ḥērem “who might have glorified God had they been given the chance.” Interestingly, the example of Melchizedek itself erodes the force of Cowles’s argument, since it implies that the Canaanites had at one time been acquainted with the true God.

[81] Restoration scripture indicates that Melchizedek and his people sought to be taken up to Enoch’s city of Zion. See Moses 7:27; JST Genesis 14:32, 34; Frank F. Judd Jr., “Melchizedek: Seeking After the Zion of Enoch,” in Sperry Symposium Classics: The Old Testament, ed. Paul Y. Hoskisson (Religious Studies Center, Brigham Young University; Deseret Book, 2005), 69–82. This creates a parallel between Enoch’s people before the flood and Melchizedek’s people before the Israelite conquest. Taking this parallel a step further, just as those who died in the flood at the time of Noah were eventually given a chance for redemption in the spirit world (1 Peter 3:18–20; 4:6), those killed during the Israelite conquest could still be redeemed.

[82] Douglas S. Earl, The Joshua Delusion? Rethinking Genocide in the Bible (James Clarke, 2011), 79, 81–82, 96–97, 113–15, 129–30.

[83] See Earl, Joshua Delusion, 81–82.

[84] Earl, Joshua Delusion, 30, 36–39, 72–79; Younger, Joshua, 180.

[85] President Russell M. Nelson has described ḥesed as “covenantal love.” See Russell M. Nelson, “The Everlasting Covenant,” Liahona, October 2022. On the covenant with Rahab, see Earl, Joshua Delusion, 48, 66–68.

[86] Earl, Joshua Delusion, 97; Younger, Joshua, 180.

[87] Younger, Joshua, 180.