More than 500 years have passed since Hernán Cortés’ fateful voyage to colonize the “New World” in the name of Spain. In those five (now approaching six) centuries, millions of Indigenous lives have been taken and countless lands stolen by the conquistadores and their descendants. Comparatively, the arrival of the conquistador on the shores of Mexico and the arrival of the Israelites in Canaan put on display a disturbingly similar imagination. The land (Canaan or Mexico) is destined for the conqueror, whether commanded by Israel’s deity or that of the Spanish, divine Providence is the justification for the genocidal dispossession of Indigenous communities.[1]
Rather than being sidestepped by historical critical research which has consistently rejected the historicity of Joshua, reception history demonstrates how Israel’s divinely authorized conquest of the Promised Land is a standard tool of Christian imperialism.[2] Here, Robert Warrior’s point with respect to Christian interpretation of biblical texts is particularly pertinent: “The danger is that these [believing] communities will read the narratives and not the history behind them.”[3] I argue, paralleling Warrior, that these historical realities ought to prompt responsible biblical interpreters to interrogate and subordinate “plain-sense” readings of the book of Joshua—whether literary, post-critical, or otherwise—to a hermeneutic that Warrior terms “reading with Canaanite eyes.”[4] In other words, the imagination of the text itself—reflected in its appropriation by Christian empire—must be resisted in solidarity with indigenous communities, allowing their voices to speak against the biblical text as an act of interpretation explicitly advocating for life.[5]
In what follows, I demonstrate the practice of such a hermeneutic. Taking an “ideal” text from the book of Joshua that complexifies the imagination of conquest, I offer a close reading of Joshua 5 with special attention to vv. 13-15. These passages form a microcosm of the literary feature occurring throughout the book of Joshua in which the triumphant Israelite narrative of conquest is subverted. Then, turning to the voice of Subcomandante Marcos of the EZLN (Ejército de Liberación Naciónal), I show that attention to the polyvocal nature of textuality in ancient Israel is not sufficient to blunt its rhetorical danger to readers. Rather, reading with indigenous realities and communities—reading with “Canaanite eyes”—necessarily subordinates the plain-sense reading to broader, more meaningful concerns. That is, such a hermeneutic reorients the reader (whether religious or not) towards the flourishing of all human communities[6]
Close Reading of Joshua 5 (The Contemporary “plain-sense”)
One of the most important elements of contemporary plain-sense readings is the delineation of how the meaning of biblical texts is in some sense generated by religious communities vis à vis the words on the page of canonical documents. In the case of the Hebrew Bible, reading in the plain-sense generally corresponds in practice to close readings of textual traditions based on the Masoretic Text (MT). Carol Newsom summarizes this approach as, “reading with the grain of the text.”[7] In this spirit, I will consider with the MT version of Joshua and extrapolate possible aspects of the narrative’s rhetorical orientation. The results of this exploration will then be put through the paces of Warrior’s hermeneutic of Canaanite eyes in the following section.
The structure of Joshua 5 is emblematic of broader narrative themes of chapters 1-12 and therein embodies a twist on Deuteronomistic theology. This theology presupposed by the first twelve chapters of Joshua was aptly summarized by Davis as “the only good Canaanite is a dead Canaanite.”[8] The imperative in Deuteronomy 9:5 to enact the ban (ḥērem), or more clearly, to kill all the inhabitants of the land is the backdrop to the book of Joshua. This command is considered both a part of Israel’s faithfulness to YHWH and a judgment on the wickedness of the indigenous peoples of the land (e.g., Deut 9:4).[9] However, the book of Joshua has a complex relationship with this theological assumption—undermining unequivocal commitment to the ban.[10] In order to effectively situate Joshua 5:13-15 in this movement of the narrative, it is necessary to comment briefly on preceding aspects of chapter 5.
The Israelites’ experience in chapter 5 is the quintessential description of faithfulness to YHWH in the land. YHWH’s command that the people should be circumcised “a second time” (Joshua 5:2) reads hyperbolically and prompts the biblical narrator to provide a lengthy explanation of why this would be necessary, though in so doing the wording of the divine command is not clarified. Nonetheless, the scrupulous observance of the divine command is evident. Daniel Hawk notes “…circumcision represents Israel’s submission to Yahweh, its reception of the promises of God, and its acceptance of the identity and calling Yahweh has determined.”[11] Hence, the act of circumcision (whether hyperbolic in this case or not) is a mutual affirmation of Israel’s privileged relation to YHWH and its role in the land.
Following the recovery period from circumcision, YHWH informs Joshua that the disgrace of Egypt is no longer upon the Israelites (Joshua 5:9). The new generation of Israelites is given a new status in the honor-shame dynamic of the Ancient Near East—they live in the Promised Land as the un-disgraced. Finally, the Israelites eat the last of the manna and celebrate Passover; symbolically reversing the movement of the Exodus. Where they once ate the Passover meal as they left their homes in Egypt to subsist on manna, the manna now stops (Joshua 5:12) at the very moment of their celebration of the Passover in their new homeland. The Israelites’ faithfulness to YHWH is at a paradigmatic level by the time the reader arrives at verse 13.
It is as a result of these prior elements of the chapter that 5:13-15 is set up for a dramatic level of irony. The passage reads:
When Joshua was by Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him, a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went to him and said to him, “Are you ours, or our enemies’?” He said, “Neither; but as commander of the army of YHWH I have now come.” And Joshua fell on his face earthwards and worshiped, and he said to him, “What does my Lord command his servant?” The commander of the army of YHWH said to Joshua, “[r]emove the sandals from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy.” And Joshua did so.[12]
Laying aside various questions regarding the curious nature of how Joshua arrives in such a position alone facing an unidentified swordsman, the disjunctive irony delivered by this passage operates at implicit and explicit levels, all of which prompt significant doubts that destabilize the position of Israel vis-à-vis the ban, YHWH’s relation to Israel, and Joshua’s role.[13] At the explicit level, YHWH’s relation to Israel is notably in question. Despite receiving the obedience of the chosen people via a second round of circumcision (5:2) coupled with the Passover celebration (5:12) and personally removing the disgrace of Egypt from Israel in the Promised Land (5:9), YHWH appears uncommitted.[14] YHWH’s commander is shockingly neither for the Israelites nor for their enemies prior to the lauded battle at Jericho.
Deuteronomy is clear regarding the side YHWH takes, the side opposed to the wicked inhabitants of the land, “…but because of the wickedness of these nations YHWH, your God is dispossessing them before you” (Deuteronomy 9:5). However, here the narrative of Joshua displays its aforementioned ambivalence regarding the Deuteronomistic backdrop. The portrait of YHWH presented is hazardous for Israel at the worst possible moment. Hawk notes that this passage carries the rhetorical effect of encouraging the Israelites (and therein the reader) to evaluate their own commitment to YHWH.[15] However, this explanation does not resolve the biting subversion that comes with the declared neutrality of YHWH. Israel is at the pinnacle of its faithfulness in the Promised Land, in the context of a holy war instituted by YHWH, and on the eve of the first battle with wicked indigenous groups. In this fraught context, the significance of YHWH’s neutrality is paramount.
This reality prompts doubts regarding Israel’s status as executer of the ban. The explicit support of YHWH given in Chapter 1 is now notably missing. The entire project of Israel’s entrance into Canaan is predicated upon YHWH’s gracious action. If, however, YHWH is not on the side of Israel the outcome of Israel’s call to claim the land by means of enacting the ban is dubious. Particularly considering how the previous generation of Israelites’ failed incursion into the land is explicitly linked to YHWH’s lack of support in Numbers 14.
Furthermore, the narrative raises uncertainty with regard to Joshua as Moses’ successor. The parallels between Moses’ call narrative in Exodus 3 are readily seen and yet in the form presented are an aspect of irony in chapter 5.[16] Chapter 1 presents an explicit affirmation of Joshua’s installation with connections to Moses. YHWH states, “As I was with Moses, so I will be with you…” (Joshua 1:5). However, unlike Moses, Joshua does not recognize the divine representative in the narrative set in parallel with Moses’ call. Carolyn Sharp notes that this comparison presents ironies that “are sharp enough to draw blood.”[17] Furthermore, in the moment that Joshua receives the parallel command to remove his sandals (Joshua 5:15) in a way identical to Moses’ call at the burning bush, the narrator notably fails to reaffirm Joshua’s leadership.
The narrative does not meet the expectation built by such an explicit reference to Israel’s great leader. Moses’ reception of the command to remove his sandals is met with YHWH’s self-revelation and commitment to be with Moses and the Israelites (Exodus 3:6-12). One could easily expect that Moses’ successor, having been officially installed in chapter 1 would be affirmed in a similar way in such a parallel narrative. Yet, following Joshua’s reception of the command to remove his sandals, the narrative falls silent. There is no resolution to the problem caused by YHWH’s neutrality in chapter 5. Moreover, Joshua’s call to be Moses’ successor is left unclear by a jolting stop to the scene where parallels would likely lead audiences to expect a call narrative. I suspect that familiarity with the Exodus narrative has led many commentators to positively describe this scene as an affirmation of Joshua’s leadership.[18] However, this is precisely what the text does not say. The intertextual resonances here are sufficient to sow doubt into an audience’s reception of Joshua.
In this sense, the function of Joshua 5:13-15 effectively undermines the Deuteronomistic theology that lies behind the book of Joshua. In light of chapter 5, the neutrality of YHWH and the lack of a reaffirmation of Joshua’s call cast significant doubt on the Israelite invasion of the land at the worst possible moment. Thoughtful attention to the literary form of the present narrative destabilizes unequivocal support for the extermination of indigenous peoples in the land by means of an intensified awareness of Israel’s ambiguous position vis à vis YHWH.
At this point, it is important to note that what I have described is one of many such literary challenges posed by irony in the book of Joshua.[19] This is not to say that the book of Joshua is only formed by narratives that problematize a commitment to the ban. There is in fact a significant literary commitment to Deuteronomistic theology which runs throughout the book imperiling the indigenous peoples of the land. Yet, it is exactly this commitment which allows room for the function of various narratives within Joshua. A counterpoint which subverts Deuteronomistic expectations could only take place within a narrative including such a thematic backdrop—much as the interplay between Abbott and Costello required the “straight man” routine of Bud Abbott to make space for the disjunctive antics of Lou Costello.
Joshua 5 Through Canaanite Eyes
The subversion of conquest narratives in Joshua may challenge some privileged, culturally dominant readers through a plain-sense reading to resist incorporating biblical conquest narratives into their worldviews. However, the overwhelmingly troubling content of the narrative of Joshua cannot be helpfully rejected via a plain-sense reading alone. This is all the truer of Christian communities reading from the position of beneficiaries of anti-indigenous policies and actions (e.g., Manifest Destiny in the USA). This to say, the fact that many in these communities must be convinced of their responsibility to reject biblical narrative that justifies settler colonialist projects creates the need for perspectives from outside the text itself. In other words, plain-sense readings must turn to indigenous voices and communities and seek to hone their reading through “Canaanite eyes.” I now turn to the writings of Subcomandante Marcos to aid in considering Joshua 5 from this perspective.[20] Marcos requires an introduction to place him helpfully at the center this discussion.
As the 1994 North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) was signed by the United States, Canada, and Mexico an uprising took place in Chiapas—the poorest and Southern-most Mexican state. Indigenous Mexicans long disenfranchised by the Mexican government’s efforts to be included in NAFTA, took up arms calling themselves the EZLN (Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional) and occupied various administrative buildings.[21] The voice of Subcomandante Marcos, the then spokesperson of the EZLN, narrated the indigenous communities’ experience and critique of the status quo during the brutal armed conflict with the Mexican government. This leader and spokesperson of indigenous communities fighting for survival is an interlocutor who clearly embodies what Warrior suggests in terms of “Canaanite eyes.”
The relation of the EZLN to reading with “Canaanite eyes” is made clear in some of Marcos’ first public words following the revolution. Walking the reader through Mexican history until the present-day, Marcos voices the narratives of indigenous communities in Latin American having suffered five centuries of oppression:
Somos producto de 500 años de luchas: primero contra la esclavitud, en la guerra de independencia contra España encabezada por los insurgentes, después por evitar ser absorbidos por el expansionismo norteamericano…los que se nos ha negado la preparación más elemental para así poder utilizarnos como carne de cañón y saquear las riquezas de nuestra patria sin importarles que estemos muriendo…Pero HOY DECIMOS ¡BASTA!…[22]
These words provide sufficient parallels to enliven the imagination with respect to Marcos as an interlocutor for biblical interpreters. The relevance of embodied cultural memory of centuries of genocidal colonialism in Latin America speaks for itself in the context of the conquest of Canaan described in Joshua 5.
From the position of indigenous readers given voice by Marcos, the Deuteronomistic theology of conquest undergirding the Joshua narrative is not substantively changed by its literary subversion in Joshua 5:13-15,[23] especially since the passage is immediately followed by the destruction of Jericho in chapter 6. Indeed, though the narrative of Joshua as a whole gestures to a dubious and self-defeating account of the conquest, it nonetheless remains an account of conquest with a functioning perspective that the indigenous population of the land is evil and worthy of divinely ordained extermination. Walter Brueggemann expresses the problem in a subtly different manner, “YHWH, with accompanying chosenness and violence, is to some extent a product and construct of Israel’s testimony…”[24]
In other words, this Israelite tradition of violence toward indigenous peoples has become a prevailing backdrop to the text of Joshua with which interpreters will always struggle. In this way, the elements of the text itself lend strength to Marcos’ expressed critique of capitalism, which doubles here as a critique of aspects of biblical imagination: “En el mundo de ellos, los que en el Poder viven y por el Poder matan, no cabe el ser humano…Esclavitud o muerte es la alternativa que el mundo de ellos ofrece a todos los mundos.”[25] The possibility of separating out inherently xenophobic and violent aspects of the Bible is the flip side of the coin of genocide and oppression.
The details of the text beyond Deuteronomistic theology are also problematic from Marcos’ seeming line of reasoning. In Joshua 5:1, the kings of the people of the land hear of YHWH’s assistance in allowing the Israelites to cross the Jordan. At this news, their “hearts melted and there was no longer spirit (rûaḥ) in them because of the Israelites.”[26] In this verse, the indigenous peoples’ leaders have already lost their breath.[27] While this is certainly hyperbolic biblical language relating to the fear of these kings (and presumably their peoples), for all intents and purposes they are already marked for death and thus their loss of breath/spirit is foreshadowing for the very real death that is declared to have come upon them by the end of Joshua 12.
The indigenous peoples of the land are perceived by the Israelite gaze as the walking dead while divine initiative carries Israel into a land not their own. Cortés and Joshua—Israel’s leader—operate with similar visions. It is this sort of imagination that drove the EZLN to an armed response, “[e]stamos dispuestos a morir otros 150 mil si es necesario esto para que despierte nuestro pueblo del sueño del engaño en que lo tienen.”[28] Marcos’ perspective is that any imagination which turns the lives of marginalized peoples into obstacles to profit (spiritual or financial) must be resisted to the point of death.
Ultimately, Joshua 5:13-15 is of little comfort to the indigenous interpreter. YHWH’s neutrality in the conflict between invading Israelite and indigenous Canaanite populations does not offer hope to peoples who bear the brunt of the most xenophobic elements of Joshua. That the divine should not be allied with the invader is a given, but that the divine should abandon the invaded to chance renders the presence of the divine useless at best and more likely dangerous. By contrast, the Mayan religion to which Marcos ascribes articulates an aspect of the divine that is the heart of the community and present amidst their most despairing struggle—Votán Zapata. “Desde la hora primera en esta larga noche en que morimos, dicen nuestros más lejanos abuelos, hubo quien recogió nuestro dolor y nuestro olvido…Votán Zapata, guardián y corazón del pueblo.”[29] In contrast to the representation of the God of Israel present in the narrative of Joshua 5, the divine in Marcos’ community provides far more than simply a message of neutrality in the presence of the invader. In this light, the momentary neutrality of the God of Israel (a foreign god to Marcos) framed by a plain-sense methodology of reading fails to address the lived experiences of the Zapatista community.[30]
Reading with Canaanite Eyes in the Humanizing Community
As can be seen above, reading with Canaanite eyes renders plain-sense reading of the book of Joshua inescapably problematic. Even in the narrative moments most ripe for subversion, conquest is the divinely justified focal point. Decrying the inherently oppressive elements (no matter how aptly) of biblical texts is not a solution for religious communities that live with these texts. Many of these communities would not be willing to reject entire problematic narratives.[31] Moreover, attention to the intricacies of biblical narratives is not sufficient to guard against future harm of those implicitly marginalized by the Bible. In some sense, religious interpreters themselves must embrace the idea that a methodology of plain-sense reading alone is inherently harmful. Only interpreters committed to living alongside fully-considered biblical narratives (in terms of literary form and problematic elements) can hope to affect long-term lived change in response to the dilemmas of the Bible. In this respect, it is worth discussing the role community experience in Subcomandante Marcos’ thought play, beyond challenging a “scripture alone” sense of interpretation. A hermeneutic of Canaanite eyes orients readers toward a differing concept of biblical interpretation that expands beyond the bounds of one’s religious tradition, a concept I term “the humanizing community.”
The writings of Marcos presuppose and frequently reference the sufferings and traditions of his indigenous communities. The very purpose for his critique is the living reality of those around him. For Marcos, the role of the community is essential. In his analysis, it is the experience of the community that prompts action and critique. Experience and meaning are unified in a community that includes the EZLN while also expanding in solidarity toward all those struggling against neo-colonialism.
This is of pressing importance for biblical interpreters. As exemplified by Warrior’s point, the results of culturally dominant Christian biblical interpretation over the past several hundred years resulted in the deaths of countless indigenous lives, those considered other and in need of the salvific intervention of white settlers.[32] Whatever the motivations, the limitations placed on the nature of community to white Christians resulted in death. Texts require flesh and blood readers in order to generate meaning.[33] In this dynamic, the perception of the nature of the reading community is a pivotal aspect of interpretation. As noted by Carol Newsom, many religious communities have the presence of the marginalized, who are able to read with “Canaanite eyes,” within them.[34] Regardless, indigenous voices must be heard as the community’s experience comes to bear upon interpretation. This necessarily implies a concept of community that sees itself in solidarity with all those oppressed and de-humanized by neo-liberal capitalism, a humanizing community. Interpreting the Bible requires the acknowledgment of such an expansive community not limited to transcending the distinctions between Roman Catholic and Protestant interpreters. The interwoven histories of violence against indigenous communities in those traditions ought to move interpreters to incorporate the experience of those upon whose dispossessed land biblical texts are interpreted, especially those indigenous peoples who are not a part of Christian religious communities.
Throughout the religious communities that prominently feature interpreting the Bible as an aspect of their life, there is a variously confessed reality that YHWH continues to meet humanity in and through the biblical witnesses. While some interpretation has moved this meeting with the deity to an interior experience between the individual and YHWH, limiting this encounter to “the heart” nonetheless misses the communal dynamics of biblical narratives. The orality of biblical narratives in religious communities is a crucial aspect of their continued reception. Outside the anglophone world, a second person plural (ustedes) is effectively heard as direct speech to the congregation, creating an interplay between text and reading community that extends the narrative directly into the lives of its hearers. In English, where this distinction is obscured, the text is still grounds for the community to reflect as a whole about their relation to the narrative in consideration. As most Christian communities profess, the divine does not meet readers through a text to create pleasant emotional experiences, but to catalyze their communities into faithful action.
This action is of course mediated in part through biblical narratives and their reception in communities in space and time, subject to socio-political currents and bias. Over the course of the last 500 years, this mediation has frequently led to an inversion of the creation account in Genesis 1 whereby YHWH becomes shaped into the image of imperially defined humanity through biblical interpretation. This interpretive move results in explicit religious affirmations of xenophobia, militarism, and hatred in culturally dominant Christian communities. This reality is all the truer in the case of narratives like those in the book of Joshua that carry these themes within them. In this case, the conquest of the Promised Land is replayed through modern Christian imperial expansion.
For instance, the role of “evangelizing” and “civilizing” missions in Spanish colonial contexts was channeled—in various ways—through a theology of Providence.[35] For the Catholic conquistadores, the root of this colonial mission is traced back to the doctrine of discovery (expressed in Pope Alexander VI’s Bull Inter Caetera in 1493) in which Christian forces were representatives of the divine economy. Papal authority over the globe, exercised on God’s behalf, is in some sense redistributed to European rulers and their representatives.[36] The Promised Land is now parallel to the book of Joshua 1:3. Whereas in biblical contexts “every place in which the sole of your foot treads” meant the land of Canaan, in the context of global empires it has taken on the new meaning of any and every land and its peoples. The land and all that is within it was understood to belong to Christians in and through the theological expression of divine promise and action on behalf of the Church. Violent dispossession and slaughter of indigenous communities was part and parcel of this “Providence.”[37]
It is in the context of this sort of interpretive agenda that one can fully appreciate the importance of reading through Canaanite eyes in light in a humanizing community. History shows the various and sundry ways that Christian interpreters ignore the voices of all the oppressed—particularly indigenous communities—at the peril of the world they profess the God of Israel to love. To avoid reinscribing imperial and/or capitalist violence into their core theologies and actions, biblical interpreters—especially Christians—must look beyond the plain-sense read, and therein beyond themselves.
Conclusion
The project of plain-sense reading is an ideological construction that leaves biblical interpretation at the mercy of prevailing winds of sociopolitical currents. The book of Joshua’s parallel imagination with the Spanish conquest of the Americas highlights the danger of how a plain-sense reading of biblical texts by means of a Christian “us” easily results in a variously defined exterminated “them.”[38] In reading Joshua 5 without indigenous voices such as Marcos, the meaning of the text runs substantial risk of being co-opted by imperialist and/or neo-liberal capitalist justifications of violence. The “Canaanite eyes” proposed by Warrior allows biblical interpretation in non-indigenous Christian communities to be attentive to the ways in which canonical texts speak violently against many marginalized listeners.[39] The humanizing community I have argued for as an implication of this hermeneutic allows the interpretation of biblical texts to avoid abstraction, and take place in the context of lived results for flesh and blood communities.
We are in desperate need of religious biblical interpreters invested in the hard work of reading with Canaanite eyes. Biblical texts take on lives of their own beyond religious communities, subject to the whims of various parties with goals of domination of our fellow human beings for material gain—no matter what harm occurs in the process. A hermeneutic of Canaanite eyes allows religious communities to stand in solidarity with the oppressed against the forces that seek to bend us to their will; a will which profits from violence. If Christian communities shirk their responsibility to do battle with these forces in biblical interpretation, by their silence they reinscribe colonial violence into their communal lives. Christian interpreters must instead risk a broad imagination amidst of a humanizing community that reflects what Pablo Richard describes as “Prioridad de la vida sobre la Bíblia.”[40] The responsibility of religious communities is primarily to defend indigenous land, the culture, and communities. The Bible and its narratives are always of secondary importance to life.