In Harry Mulisch’s epic novel The Discovery of Heaven (De ontdekking van de hemel) from 1992, a friendship between two strong characters forms the central theme of a long and complicated story in which the lawgiver Moses plays a structuring role. The son of one of these protagonists, Quinten, succeeds in stealing the two Tables of Moses, blue sapphire plaques, from the Sancta Sanctorum next to St. John Lateran.1 They are supposed to be the objects brought to Rome in 70 after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. Whether or not this is true, their story has intrigued many people and continues to do so.
In this contribution I want to look at these objects from the Jewish Great Temple in Jerusalem, brought to Rome and exposed in the Templum Pacis (fig. 13.2), in terms of appropriation. Taking a Roman perspective, we can discern various forms and stages of appropriation: a first confrontation with them, in Judaea, where they are framed as essential to the Jewish faith; their presentation during the triumphal procession of 71 (fig. 13.1); their musealization within the Templum Pacis in 75; and new appreciations until their disappearance after the sixth century. I discuss the first three stages in this chapter, starting with the original setting of the objects in Jerusalem. Then follows the Roman appropriation by means of the 71 triumph and, subsequently, the objects’ representation and their instalment in the Templum Pacis. The different modes of appropriation as distinguished in the Introduction to this volume (that is, material appropriation, objectification, incorporation, and ultimately transformation) can be neatly followed throughout my discussion of sacred objects from Judaea and their new function in imperial Rome.
Rome, Arch of Titus in Summa Sacra Via, relief showing booty
Photo by Nathalie de Haan
Rome, Templum Pacis, latest excavations, looking towards the East, on the platform of the Shrine of Peace and the eastern portico
Photo by Lidy Peters
1 Material Appropriation and Objectification: Sacred Objects as Symbols of a Captured Nation
When Titus’ troops destroyed the Great Temple in Jerusalem, the Jews lost their centre of worship.2 As Alain Schnapp has made clear in his monumental Une histoire universelle des ruines, destructions of holy places by enemies could be understood as tokens of God’s wrath and anger, leading to a ‘théologie des ruines’, with rabbinic debates on how to cope with such disasters.3 Even if their religion mainly entailed a personal bond with their God by means of prayer and thorough study of the Torah, the worshippers fostered material connections as well, including a deep veneration of this particular monument. Synagogues now became houses of prayer and, within and beyond the Holy City, commodities for congregation and study, first of the pharisaic ritual and oral interpretation of the holy texts,4 later of further studies of the Holy Scriptures. Specific characteristics of Jewish religious practice might have been heavily impacted by this drastic change in their religious objectscape.5 As to material aspects concerning the Temple’s treasures, the main source is Flavius Josephus’ Bellum Judaicum. Josephus recalls these as arcane old objects, probably not precious at all in the eyes of non-Jews despite the use of gold and silver, and according to the believers replaceable in case of loss, without affecting the veneration of God.6 The Roman sack of the Temple entailed a confiscation of its treasures, as was the usual procedure. The plunderers may have wondered at the absence of a cult statue, as the concept that a god being entirely invisible must have been strange to them.
Each spoliation of a conquered town or country provided Romans with the possibility to expand their realm, not only in the sense of power, but also by adopting the gods of such a locus (adoptio), an old method to warrant the acceptation of a new regime by a foreign god. In concreto, the transportation of objects was also a method of appropriation. The import of sacred objects of the conquered region’s god might entail his euocatio as well, implying that the god was invited to share the Roman pantheon. In the case of the capture of Judaea, however, the invisible God of Israel vanished from the Temple (BJ 6.127) and was subjugated to Jupiter Capitolinus, rather than being given his own place within the community of Roman gods. For the Romans he no longer existed and, consequently, did not get a shrine in Rome.7
In the end, objects could become important assets exposed in a museum-like environment such as the porticus in the Campus Martius. The first presentation, however, preceding permanent instalment, was the demonstration of the spoils in the procession of a triumphus. In this case both Vespasian and Titus got the right to hold a triumphal procession,8 and could present themselves as successful military and civil leaders, as well as bringers of peace and wealth. Judaea enhanced that suggestion of wealth, for the Jewish booty provided finances for the erection of the Colosseum (see below) and captives to build it.
A triumphal parade put to the test the otherness of the peoples subjected and the objects conquered: to show things familiar to the Roman citizens would impress much less or even give reason for suspicion that the booty resulted from a civil war. This should be avoided in the 71 triumph in particular, since the actions in Judaea took place within a zone added to the Empire long before.9 So, even if many objects were not as strange as might be desired, and included the usual suspects such as piles of weaponry and captives in chains, the accentuation of the alien was looked for and must have dominated the show.
Although Judaism was not a belief favouring ostentation, the Second Temple, in its fairly new state after the renovation under Herod the Great around 20 BCE (AJ 15.391–402), presented a dazzling luxury, with the use of precious materials like cedar wood and sheets of gold covering architectural elements. Many elements evidently recalled those fabricated for Moses’ tabernacle and the First Temple.10 Since the architectural ornaments and golden embellishments could not be stripped integrally and transported without damage, the victors must have limited themselves to the moveable treasures. They were lucky to have laid hands on a couple of very special sacred objects which no man in Rome, even the Jews, had ever seen, for they had been stored in the Holy of Holies, only accessible to the high priest and his assistants. This is why Josephus’ description is so important.11
Even if Jerusalem had featured many times previously in the Bellum Judaicum, a first image comes to the fore in book 5 (136–247): ramparts, parts of the city, the Antonia bulwark, and the royal palace founded by Herod in the Augustan era all receive a succinct description.12 The luxury of Herod’s residence is highlighted, as is that of the Great Temple presented in BJ 5.184–237.13 The Temple’s unique beauty is so great that the reader understands how awful its destruction will be, bringing an ‘incurable disaster’,
The golden doors of the antechamber of the Holy of Holies (itself empty and not accessible to anyone: BJ 5.219)16 were hidden behind a Babylonian linen cloth, embroidered with a representation of the universe. Josephus mentions the main colours, pomegranate-red, hyacinth-blue, and purple as indications of the four elements.17 This curtain as well as the Law would later find a place in Vespasian’s private quarters (BJ 7.162; see below). The epithet ‘Babylonian’ returns in the description of fabrics with embroidery shown during the triumph itself and is an indication of extremely refined work (BJ 7.134).18 It is worth noting that zodiac signs would become a current feature in synagogue floor mosaics of late antiquity.19 Josephus then describes ‘wonderful works’ (
In BJ 6.4, Titus’ troops set fire to the temple, although they have received no order from Titus, and cause the destruction of the monument, apparently on the same day the First Temple was burned down by Nebuchadnezzar in 587/586 BCE (see AJ 10.144–147). Many treasures from the treasure room now become accessible, the
In 71, Titus returns to Rome and can present his victory. According to Josephus (BJ 6.417; 7.118), he ships some 700 Jewish captives, singled out for their size and beauty, to Rome, who – we may assume – join the prisoners walking in the triumphal procession, probably those clad in fine garments (BJ 7.138). Many more are condemned ad bestias or undergo torture in Judaea.23 The triumph was Titus’ first appearance next to his father and brother in the new quality of son of the Emperor, and the Emperor also appeared for the first time in a military triumph.
Josephus describes the triumph itself at length24 and seems to do so as an eyewitness, although there are doubts as to his presence in Rome at this moment (BJ 7.122–157).25 It is important to realize that Josephus, previously a Jewish leader, might have been among the captives driven like cattle through the streets of Rome if things had turned out differently.26 The triumph began in the Campus Martius where the two honorands had slept in or near the Iseum Campense.27 Josephus relates that a large crowd (BJ 7.122:
The expeditions in Judaea were displayed on painted or embroidered canvases,
The treasures turn out to be the same objects as those described in the temple inventory.34 Now the Showbread Table gets no explanation at all. In contrast, the lampstand is singled out for its peculiar form and the fact that there was no ‘icon’ of the Jewish god.35 For the Roman onlooker it would not have been important to know whether it was the genuine menorah or another lampstand mentioned in the sources, but among scholars this has been a bone of contention.36 Josephus seems to involve the readers by referring to ‘us’ with
Separated from these objects only by a statue of Victoria carried by a number of men, the glorious victors Vespasian and Titus followed, accompanied by Domitian, as the final components of the procession. The macabre finale of the triumphal parade was the execution of Simon bar Giora from Gerasa, a far less illustrious victim than the kings, queens, and knights shown in other humiliating processions in Rome.41
Josephus’ description has been called a Rome-centred concoction of objects and persons carried around to evoke a great victory of what actually had been little more than a minor expedition of punishment.42 At the same time, his passage would represent an outsider’s view, that of a Jew on a quintessentially Roman event.43 Yet, even if the triumphal procession itself was a rather modest affair, restricted to a one-day event, it was a well-chosen opportunity to present the relatively unknown new Emperor and his two sons as the new leaders of the Roman Empire. All in all, moreover, there was a considerable number of precious, rare, and exotic items, worthy of being paraded through the streets of Rome. As discussed in the chapter by Luuk Huitink, Josephus might indeed have had a hidden agenda in presenting the triumph in the way he does. However, more practical reasons may also have played a role. First, Josephus may not have possessed common knowledge of extensive triumph practices, since he simply attended the 71 events as a newcomer. Second, for him the essential thing would be the booty from the Temple as material expressions of his people, with the more mundane objects of no relevance as a marker of identity. That is why I think that we are not dealing with a downplaying of the 71 triumph, but with a fair evocation of the essentials pertaining to the destiny of the Jews.44 There is much to favour the suggestion that Josephus’ description is trustworthy as a reliable description.
In recent years, triumphal processions have been well studied as a form of material appropriation and objectification, even if not explicitly in these terms. The conquerors transport spoils to Rome, not only to show the richness and opulence of their booty and to bring the conquered enemy under the yoke of Rome, but also to include them in their realm. With Trevor Murphy we may see them as expressions of ‘Triumphal Geography’ – for which, in the time of the Flavians, Pliny offers a written parallel in his Historia Naturalis dedicated to Titus in 77 – or as a form of Donald Rutledge’s ‘Displaying Domination’.45 The act of showing the material in public space, that is the triumph as described by Josephus, is a good proof of this dynamic, and their materiality formed part of the esteem they received.46 It is important to realize, therefore, that only a (very) selective part of the totality of triumphally paraded objects are depicted on the Arch of Titus (fig. 13.1).47 Ida Östenberg has made clear how the triumph was a process of mise-en-scène of a world foreign to Rome. Indeed therefore, as Luuk Huitink and Jan Willem van Henten have put it, ‘Judaea enters Rome’ at this occasion.48 Roman citizens experienced the conquered city, region, country, its people(s), and nature, as well as its richness or poverty, in a meticulously arranged parade.49 The Judaeans were presented as aliens, far from the Roman ciuitas, and therefore were to be seen as great enemies. Titus’ war effort was enlarged by ‘crushing’ the Jewish cult.50 Whereas normally the spoils were shown in mixed order before the parading triumphators, the 71 triumph was innovative by showing the sacra as a specific category after all other booty. This order might imply a specific appropriation, that of Judaea’s essential identity expressed in the sacred objects, as well as entailing a good knowledge of the land or specific advice given by local experts. If we take into account the various encounters of Titus with people associated with the Temple as well as an advisory role of Josephus, as suggested by himself in his autobiography, this assumption has a firm basis.51 The ‘taming’ of Judaea would be eternized in figural representations and the instalment of the booty in the Templum Pacis (fig. 13.2).
2 Incorporation and Transformation: The Musealization of the Sacred Objects from Jerusalem in Imperial Rome and Its Consequences
The urban context was of paramount importance to convey the messages emperors wanted to bring to the fore with ceremonies and commemorative monuments. Two arches dedicated to Titus are relevant in this respect. One arch, inaugurated in 80/81, stood at the curved end of the Circus Maximus and near Titus’ birthplace prope Septizonium sordidis aedibus (‘in a sordid house near the Septizonium’).52 Fragments of sculpted reliefs include elements of ‘barbaric’ dress, sometimes interpreted as remains of depictions of Judaean captives, and Roman soldiers and togati. A fragment of a temple pediment depiction, with a reclining water god as an acroterion, might represent the Temple of Neptune in the Circus Flaminius, so that the suggestion of a depiction of the triumph of 71 is likely.53 The arch bore an inscription known from a medieval manuscript. Its existence could be proved during new research carried out in situ over the last decade.54
Senatus populusq(ue) Romanus | Imp(eratori) Tito Caesari diui Vespasiani f (ilio) Vespasian[o] Augusto | pontif (ici) max(imo) trib(unicia) pot(estate) X imp(eratori) XVII [c]o(n)s(uli) VIII p(atri) p(atriae) principi suo | quod praeceptis patriae consiliisq(ue) et auspiciis gentem | Iudaeorum domuit et urbem Hierusolymam omnibus ante | se ducibus regibus gentibus aut frustra petitam aut | omnino intemptatam deleuit.
The Senate and the People of Rome to Imperator Titus Caesar Vespasianus Augustus, son of the divine Vespasian, pontifex maximus, with tribunician power for the tenth time, imperator for the seventeenth time, in his eighth consulship, father of the fatherland, to their Emperor, because, by the orders and advice of his father and the auspices he subdued the Jewish people and destroyed the city of Jerusalem, a thing attempted in vain by all generals, kings, and peoples before him or untried entirely.
Although the erection of the arch dates to 80/81, ten years after the fall of Jerusalem, the Senate still augmented the importance of Titus’ deeds in the concluding lines: no one before Titus had ever succeeded in capturing Jerusalem. Had the senators forgotten Pompey on purpose? Or – what is most likely – did they simply flatter Titus?55 The laudatory tenor of the arch’s text matches the information given in the inscription found in the Colosseum and referring to its erection with spoils from the Jewish War.56
More famous is the posthumous Arch on the Summa Sacra Via, on the Velia, not far from the Colosseum, dedicated to diuus Titus by his brother Domitian. It has a ‘non-descript’ dedication on the east side (that would originally have appeared on the west side as well):57
Senatus / populusque Romanus / diuo Tito diui Vespasiani f (ilio) / Vespasiano Augusto.
The Senate and the people of Rome to divine Titus Vespasian Augustus, son of divine Vespasian.
In contrast, the reliefs of this arch are rather telling. Victoriae embellish the external archivolts and the attic has a long smallish frieze showing the entire train of the triumphal procession.58 Most relevant is the visualization of the spoils: the reliefs occupying the north and south interior walls of the arch.59 The two slabs of ca. 2.03m high and 3.91m broad, with figures rising up to 1.30–1.50m, constitute two images of a brief cartoon-like sequel, with both groups of figures moving in the same direction, viz. from East to West towards the Capitol. In the southern relief, aptly called ‘Beuterelief’,60 troops carry the spoils on two biers or fercula towards an arch, seen as the temporary triumphal arch or porta triumphalis. On its outer side are a Victoria (as on the outer side of the arch itself) and dates of a date palm, symbol of Judaea. On top are, on the right, the four horses of a quadriga in a frontal position next to four more horses, clearly representing the chariots of Titus and Vespasian, accompanied by Domitian on horseback and a female deity, perhaps Minerva.61 The first (right) ferculum supported by eight men contains the Showbread Table.62 On top of the Table one observes the two golden containers of frankincense, Josephus’
The second (left) ferculum, carried by two groups of four men at the front and three (visible of four) at the rear, consists of a hexagon- or octagon-shaped double base adorned with cassettes bearing sea creatures in relief, who might refer to the all-generating kosmos.66 It is a matter of dispute whether these elements form a unity with the lampstand itself or were added to the relief to enhance the object’s visibility.67 The large menorah, almost two thirds the length of the men who carry it, towers above all participants.68
The lamps themselves,
The northern slab72 shows Titus in his triumphal chariot, who – if we connect the two images – indeed comes directly after the booty, just as narrated by Josephus. He is crowned by a Victoria who stands behind him and is surrounded by thirteen lictors73 and three senators or assistants of Titus. A half-nude man probably represents Honos, and a woman might be Virtus, both exemplifying the virtues of the Emperor which helped him in his military campaign.74 Finally, the divine Titus himself is carried towards heaven on the back of an eagle in the relief in the centre of the archivolt. The image stresses the ‘structural connection between the ceremony of triumph and the divine status of the general’.75 The fact that it ‘literally rises above the cultic vessels from the Jerusalem temple’ has been taken as an argument to consider the arch, despite its date, as a triumphal monument to honour the Flavians,76 but the inscription, arrangement of the depictions, and absence of Vespasian and Domitian do not support such a suggestion.
Pfanner observes many inconsistencies and mistakes as well as unfinished parts in the reliefs, which would point at (1) the rather modest design, (2) the not very talented executors of the design, and (3) the unfinished state of, especially, the ‘Beuterelief’.77 The reliefs are no photographic representation of the triumphal procession but (re)present the quintessence of this event, the subjugation of a revolting area and the elevation of the triumphator Titus. In this way, the objects are eternalized as Roman possessions definitively brought to the Urbs and exposed to the Roman people in their new localization. In contrast with other triumphal representations, neither captives nor booty are shown (they are lacking on the small frieze as well). This abbreviation makes clear how important the sacred objects were for the Roman victors as representations of the subjugated Jews and their Holy of Holies. For centuries, the spectators would understand the symbolism of these objects, regardless of whether they were familiar or exotic to them. Their function was more or less clear at first sight, whereas the specific connection with the Great Temple of Jerusalem could only be understood by those who had a greater knowledge of the past, since the Arch’s inscription was unspecific. Viewers might recall a connection with the objects exposed nearby in the Templum Pacis (fig. 13.2).78 The images prevented the danger of forgetting, since the triumphal procession was an ephemeral event and the cultural memory or the historical sensation could become lost.
A study guided by Steven Fine on the reliefs’ polychromy shows how the importance of the sacred items was underlined, in that they were highlighted in golden (menorah, Showbread Table) and silver (hazozerot) splendour. Particles of yellow were found on the menorah, but regarding the relief’s polychromy as a whole, more work should be done.79
Since the reliefs represented a decade-old event at the time of the Arch’s erection, their importance may be less to evoke a specific victory, than to evoke the foundation of Titus’ reign, the summa of his res gestae. He was not yet an emperor when he achieved this victory, but would never achieve any greater actions in the decade until his death on 13 September 81 CE. The reliefs show the beginning and the vault image the end of his splendid biography as princeps of the Roman Empire. If we interpret the decorations as a synoptic biography, the triumphal scenes might be seen as tropes of bringing in the spoils from a conquered nation by the triumphant Emperor to lay the fundament for the Flavian dynasty. Consequently, Domitian did not erect a monument honouring the victory over Judaea, but immortalized his deceased brother in a proper way to show his pietas towards and strong connection with his father and brother, and to place himself on the podium of power erected by his brother.80 Östenberg has thus suggested that the set of images combines three messages: Titus’ 71 triumph, Titus’ apotheosis, and Titus’ pompa funebris.81 She points out how, at a funeral, the greatest deeds of the deceased could be enacted in a procession and exposition on the Forum Romanum. The spoils from Jerusalem could even be shown, either in their original shapes or in copies or mock representations.82
The fact that in later times the association of the Jewish spoils with Titus transformed the Arch’s meaning into an homage to the capture of Judaea demonstrates the strength of the images and their specific details.83 The tragic end of the Temple of Jerusalem, intended or not by the young prince, provided him and his aftermath with an accomplishment he could be proud of within Roman society.
Ironically, Domitian would pass by these Arches honouring his brother during triumphal processions in 83, 86, and 89 that demonstrated his own military prowess.84 These features form part of what Tonio Hölscher calls ‘triumphale Topographie’, which we might rephrase as triumphal cityscape.85 The imperial fora can be seen as part of this. They clearly formed massive interventions, changing urban structure in a radical way. The Templum Pacis ‘substituted’ the Neronian presence by exposing works of art from his Golden House and incorporated the spoils of various revolts, especially that in Judaea. Like the images in the Arch, the instalment of the objects warranted a long-term remembering, since memory no longer depended on the triumph itself.86 Josephus provides the following information about the instalment of the objects in the Templum Pacis after its inauguration in 75 (BJ 7.158–162):
After the triumphs and the strong foundation of Roman power, Vespasian decided to construct a Temple of Peace: it was completed very quickly and surpassed all human imagination. Since he had at his disposal extraordinary resources of wealth, he embellished it with ancient masterpieces of painting and sculpture (
γραφῆς τε καὶ πλαστικῆς ἔργοις ). For everything was collected (συνήχθη ) in that temple and exposed (κατετέθη ) there, for the sight of which people previously had travelled around the world in order to be able to see them while they were here or there. Here he also dedicated the golden vessels (χρυσᾶ κατασκευάσματα ) from the temple of the Jews, on which he prided himself. But he ordered that their law (τὸν νόμον ) and the purple curtains of the temple (τὰ πορφυρᾶ τοῦ σηκοῦ καταπετάσματα ) should be deposited and kept (ἀποθεμένους φυλάττειν ) in the palace.
The Templum Pacis (fig. 13.2) was a huge forum-like porticus-cum-temple at the north of the Forum Romanum and next to the Forum Augustum.87
With this outlay, it was a successor of the traditional republican and early-imperial porticus in the Campus Martius, often constructed with the money of the manubiae of conquests. The display of objects in one single place is a form of subjugating and locating the world, as it were, in an appropriate spot. Pliny called the Templum Pacis the ideal locus to show the orbem uictum.88 That Vespasian ‘dedicated’ (
As we have seen, two objects were omitted from this public musealization and were instead brought to Vespasian’s dwellings:92 the curtains of the holy door of the Temple, called parokhot, and the Law or Torah. Both had a strong symbolical value. Here a private appropriation of the Jewish religious domain by the Emperor is at play: the Holy Scriptures of the Jews are posited under the guidance of Vespasian, who becomes the new lawgiver of Judaea and substitutes the old law with a new, Roman one. Presumably, the Emperor could not read the text, so that it was a still more arcane object. Steve Mason has suggested that it would be a sort of ‘talisman’.93 In contrast, Barbara Eberhardt sees this action as an act of honouring the Jewish God, and stresses the importance of the custody (
Chapman has suggested that Jewish people went to the Templum Pacis in order to see and worship the old treasures from the Temple, since the orientation of the monument would correspond with that of a Synagogue, the shrine of Peace being in the position of a Torah shrine.95 However, as a rule, Jews did not venerate material objects: God is worshipped as a metaphysical entity only. Thus, a visit would stir memories rather than evoke religious emotions.
A few Jewish references to the objects testify to later views of the objects. Around 170, Rabbi Eleazar ben (son of Rabbi) Yose would have seen the curtain and a golden diadem in the Palace, which might correspond to Vespasian’s private treasure.96 A slightly later text, referring to Rabbi Nathan, mentions the same objects as well as the menorah and the Showbread Table.97 What really happened with the sacred objects remains for the greater part unknown. It has a touch of irony when we read in Procopius’ De bello Vandalico 4.9.4 how these objects function for a second time in a triumphal procession, that of Belisarius in Constantinople in 533, which the author compares to those of Titus and Trajan:98
When Belisarius arrived at Byzantium with Gelimer and the Vandals and was honoured, he got praise for what had been assigned in old times of the Romans to generals who had achieved the greatest victories, worthy of great praise. Some six hundred years had passed since anyone had ever achieved these honours, apart from Titus and Trajan, and all the other emperors who had won battles against some barbaric people. Showing the spoils (
τά … λ????άφυρα ) and the slave-made people from the war he paraded in the centre of the town in what the Romans call a triumph (θρίαμβον ). […] Among the booty were the treasures of the Jews (τὰ Ἰουδαίων κειμήλια ) which Vespasian’s son Titus had brought to Rome after the conquest of Jerusalem with other spoils (because Geiseric had plundered the Palace in Rome, as I have related in the previous accounts). When one of the Jews saw them, he approached one of the followers of the King [i.e. Justinian] and said to him: ‘I think that it is improper to bring these treasures (τὰ χρήματα ) to the Palace in Byzantium. For they belong to no other place than where Solomon, the King of the Jews, had placed them earlier. For through them Geiseric conquered the palace of the Romans as now the royal army conquers the palace of the Vandals.’ When the King got notice of these words, he was frightened and sent all of them as soon as possible to the shrines of the Christians in Jerusalem.
In 455, the Vandals’ king Geiseric took the treasures ‘from the Palace of the Romans’ to Carthage,99 and from here Justinian’s general Belisarius transported them to Constantinople in 533, where he presented the objects as part of his triumphal spoils. Procopius provides some further fascinating elements. First, the unspecified Jewish objects apparently stood in the palace, that is on the Palatine rather than in the Templum Pacis. Second, the objects still had a thrilling force. As a Jewish witness of the triumph tells the Emperor, they have given strength to both Geiseric, in 455, and now some eighty years later, Belisarius, military men who could only win their battles thanks to the spoils.100 The Emperor immediately wants to get rid of the objects and sends them to Jerusalem, albeit to the Christian community, probably not because there was no longer a Jewish temple (or alternatively, other centre, or community), but because he wanted them to be subjugated to the Christians, who dominated Judaea at that time.101 This story apparently did not influence other voices, who claimed that the sacred objects had remained in Rome. Mulisch might have thought that as well.102
3 Conclusion: Material Appropriation and Its Legacy
As we have seen, the objects from the Great Temple had a huge impact in Rome. First, the showing of the menorah, Showbread Table, and the like during the triumphus is a moving and temporary presentation, experienced only by those who saw the objects and recognized them as Judaean booty with a specific value (fig. 13.1). It is a single-moment event with a volatile character. Its impact, therefore, is relatively limited. The message must have been clear to those present: the essentials of Judaea capta are being transferred to Rome.
Second, the exposition of the Judaean objects in the Templum Pacis constituted a necessary act to stabilize this appropriation of the Judaean world in Rome (fig. 13.2). Here the objects would remain on view for a long time to come, with people even having the opportunity to view them more than once. These spectators could be local citizens who strolled through the garden complex as a pastime, but also foreigners visiting Rome as politicians, military men, merchants, or tourists. It is clear that by this act Vespasian and Titus eternized the submission of the Jews and the translation of booty to Roman imperial power. As a consequence, the exposition in the Templum Pacis surely had a much greater impact, even long after the event of the triumph. The same is true for the reliefs in the Arch of Titus in the Sacra Via, as eternally demonstrating the essentials of the booty brought to Rome (fig. 13.1).
A longue durée agency of the Arch’s reliefs, especially those showing the booty, implies responses both from Christians and Jews in Rome as well as those from foreigners. A rare depiction of the destruction of Jerusalem on the Franks or Auzon casket, now in the British Museum, made by an unknown ivory carver in the seventh or eighth century, hails this event as the punishment of the Jews for having crucified Christ.103 The Arch became a lieu de mémoire in Jewish history.104 Fine has sketched the implications which the booty relief had for various groups within Jewry, from orthodox to liberal and from Sephardim to Ashkenazy and other denominations. Whereas Christians sometimes tended to see Titus’ deeds as a justification of their view on Jews as the murderers of Christ, Jews might suffer when they observed the holy objects in this context or rather conclude: ‘Titus, you’re gone, but we’re still here, Am Yisrael Chai, “the people of Israel live”’.105 Fine concludes that the menorah in particular became, and still is, a crucial symbol of the survival of the Jews, even in the era of COVID.106
It is interesting to note, lastly, that the objects from the Temple in Jerusalem play rather different roles in the various ‘objectscapes’ they populate.107 First, they change from Jewish religious objects in the realm of the Great Temple in Jerusalem into booty in Titus’ triumph in Rome and symbols of conquest. Second, these particular objects become either curiosities in the Templum Pacis (fig. 13.2), testifying to the Roman conquest of Judaea and memorabilia for the Jews in the diaspora, or personal ‘trinkets’ which Vespasian fosters in his residence. Third, after Antiquity, when the objects themselves have definitely been lost, the images of the Arch of Titus (fig. 13.1) gain momentum for Christians and Jews alike. This process is still ongoing. Even now, after 1950 years, the objects are reproduced all over the globe and are thereby a lively record of the Jewish religion.
Acknowledgements
I thank Irene de Jong and Miguel John Versluys for their invitation to participate in this project and for their critical feedback. Thanks are also due to Serge Bardet and Jan Willem van Henten for a critical reading and valuable references. Luuk Huitink has been my ideal sparring partner and I am happy to acknowledge his contribution for many aspects. This chapter was written in the context of the ‘Anchoring Innovation’ research programme of the Netherlands National Research School in Classical Studies (OIKOS), which is supported by a 2017 Gravitation Grant (Ministry of Education of the Netherlands, NWO); see https://www.anchoringinnovation.nl. The translations of ancient texts are my own.
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Bardet, S., ‘Le siège de Jérusalem selon Flavius Josèphe’, in F. Chapot (ed.), Les récits de la destruction de Jérusalem (70 ap. J.-C.). Contextes, représentations et enjeux, entre Antiquité et Moyen Âge (Turnhout 2020) 137–172.
Beard, M., ‘The Triumph of Flavius Josephus’, in A.J. Boyle, W.J. Dominik (eds.), Flavian Rome. Culture, Image, Text (Leiden 2003) 543–558.
Beard, M., The Roman Triumph (Cambridge, MA 2007).
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Brighton, M.A., ‘Flavian Judea’, in A. Zissos (ed.), A Companion to the Flavian Age of Imperial Rome (Malden-Oxford-Chichester 2016) 239–253.
Chapman, H.H., ‘Spectacle in Josephus’ Jewish War’, in J. Edmondson, S. Mason, J. Rives (eds.), Flavius Josephus and Flavian Rome (Oxford 2005) 289–313.
Chapman, H.H., ‘What Josephus Sees. The Temple of Peace and the Spectacle in Text and Art’, Phoenix 63 (2009) 107–130.
Chapman, H.H., ‘Josephus’ Memory of Jerusalem. A Study in Urban Disaster’, in V. Closs, E. Keitel (eds.), Urban Disasters and the Roman Imagination (Berlin-Boston 2020) 181–199.
Chapot, F. (ed.), Les récits de la destruction de Jérusalem (70 ap. J.-C.). Contextes, représentations et enjeux, entre Antiquité et Moyen Âge (Turnhout 2020).
Cody, J.M., ‘Conquerors and Conquered on Flavian Coins’, in A.J. Boyle, W.J. Dominik (eds.), Flavian Rome. Culture, Image, Text (Leiden 2003) 103–123.
Eberhardt, B., ‘Wer dient wem? Die Darstellung des Flavischen Triumphzuges auf dem Titusbogen und bei Josephus (B.J. 7.123–162)’, in J. Sievers, G. Lembi (eds.), Josephus and Jewish History in Flavian Rome and Beyond (Leiden 2005) 257–277.
Eck, W., ‘Sehen und Lesen oder Lesen und Sehen. Die Symbiose von archäologischem Monument und epigraphischem Text’, in A. Eich (ed.), Inschriften edieren und kommentieren (Berlin-Boston 2022) 25–49.
Fine, S., The Menorah. From the Bible to Modern Israel (Cambridge, MA 2016).
Fine, S. (ed.), The Arch of Titus. From Jerusalem to Rome – and Back (Leiden-Boston 2021).
Foresta, S., ‘La funzione della policromia nell’interpretazione storico-artistica dell’Ara Pacis Augustae dal 1894 alla metà del ‘900’, Eidola 9 (2012) 87–106.
Frilingos, C.A., ‘More than Meets the Eye. Incongruity and Observation in Josephus’s Account of the Triumph of Vespasian and Titus’, Journal of Religions 57 (2017) 50–67.
Gambash, G., ‘Roman Policy in the Aftermath of the Great Jewish Revolt’, in E. Nantet (ed.), Les juifs et le pouvoir politique dans l’Antiquité gréco-romaine (Rennes 2019) 163–171.
Goldbeck, F., Wienand, J. (eds.), Der römische Triumph in Prinzipat und Spätantike (Berlin-Boston 2017).
Hachlili, R., Ancient Jewish Art and Archaeology in the Diaspora (Leiden 1998).
Hachlili, R., Ancient Synagogues – Archaeology and Art. New Discoveries and Current Research (Leiden 2013).
Hachlili, R., ‘Why Did the Menorah and Not the Showbread Table Evolve into the Most Important Symbol of Judaism?’, in U. Leibner, C. Hezser (eds.), Jewish Art in Its Late Antique Context (Tübingen 2016) 189–211.
Henten, J.W. van, Flavius Josephus. Translation and Commentary. Volume 7b: Judean Antiquities 15 (Leiden-Boston 2014).
Hollander, W. den, Josephus, the Emperors, and the City of Rome (Leiden-Boston 2014).
Hölscher, T., ‘Die Stadt Rom als triumphaler Raum und ideologischer Rahmen in der Kaiserzeit’, in F. Goldbeck, J. Wienand (eds.), Der römische Triumph in Prinzipat und Spätantike (Berlin-Boston 2017) 283–316.
Huitink, L., Henten, J.W. van, ‘Josephus’, in I.J.F. de Jong (ed.), Space in Ancient Greek Literature (Leiden-Boston 2012) 199–217.
Krautheimer, R., Rome. Profile of a City, 312–1308 ([1980] 2nd edn. Princeton 1983).
Lovatt, H., ‘Flavian Spectacle. Paradox and Wonder’, in A. Zissos (ed.), A Companion to the Flavian Age of Imperial Rome (Malden-Oxford-Chichester 2016) 361–375.
Magness, J., ‘Heaven on Earth. Helios and the Zodiac Cycle in Ancient Palestinian Synagogues’, DOP 59 (2005) 1–52.
Magness, J., ‘The Arch of Titus at Rome and the Fate of the God of Israel’, Journal of Jewish Studies 59 (2008) 201–217.
Mason, S., A History of the Jewish War, A.D. 66–74 (Cambridge-New York 2016).
Mason, S., ‘Josephus’ Portrait of the Flavian Triumph in Historical and Literary Context’, in F. Goldbeck, J. Wienand (eds.), Der römische Triumph in Prinzipat und Spätantike (Berlin-Boston 2017) 125–175.
Meneghini, R., I Fori Imperiali e i Mercati di Traiano (Rome 2009).
Miles, M.M., Art as Plunder. The Ancient Origins of Debate about Cultural Property (Cambridge-New York 2008).
Millar, F., ‘Last Year in Jerusalem. Monuments of the Jewish War in Rome’, in J. Edmondson, S. Mason, J. Rives (eds.), Flavius Josephus and Flavian Rome (Oxford 2005) 101–128.
Moormann, E.M., ‘Domitian’s Remake of Augustan Rome and the Iseum Campense’, in M.J. Versluys, K. Bülow-Clausen, G. Capriotti Vittozzi (eds.), The Iseum Campense from the Roman Empire to the Modern Age. Temple – Monument – Lieu de mémoire (Rome 2018) 161–177.
Moormann, E.M., ‘Some Observations on the Templum Pacis. A Summa of Flavian Politics’, in M. Heerink, E. Meijer (eds.), Flavian Responses to Nero (Amsterdam 2022) 127–159.
Mulisch, H., De ontdekking van de hemel (Amsterdam 1992; translated as The Discovery of Heaven).
Murphy, T., Pliny the Elder’s Natural History. The Empire in the Encyclopedia (Oxford 2004).
Osborne, J., ‘The Jerusalem Temple Treasure and the Church of Santi Cosma e Damiano in Rome’, PBSR 76 (2008) 173–181, 355.
Östenberg, I., Staging the World. Spolia, Captives, and Representations in the Roman Triumphant Procession (Oxford 2009).
Parisi Presicce, C., ‘The Arch of Titus in the Circus Maximus’, in A. Raimondi Cominesi, N. de Haan, E.M. Moormann, C. Stocks (eds.), God on Earth. Emperor Domitian (Leiden 2021) 51–56.
Pena, J.X., Temple as Cosmos. The Jerusalem Temple Imagery in Josephus’ Writings (PhD dissertation, University of Groningen 2020).
Pfanner, M., Der Titusbogen (Mainz 1983).
Pitts, M., Versluys, M.J., ‘Objectscapes. A Manifesto for Investigating the Impacts of Object Flows on Past Societies’, Antiquity 95 (2021) 367–381.
Popkin, M.L., The Architecture of the Roman Triumph (Cambridge 2016).
Reland, A., De spoliis templi Hierosolymitani in arcu Titiano Romae conspicuis (Utrecht 1716).
Rutledge, S.H., Ancient Rome as a Museum. Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting (Oxford 2012).
Scheid, J., ‘Le statut du culte d’Isis sous le Haut Empire’, in C. Bonnet, V. Pirenne-Delforge, D. Praet (eds.), Les religions orientales dans le monde grec et romain. Cent ans après Cumont (1906–2006) (Turnhout 2009) 173–186.
Schipporeit, S., ‘Ritual und Herrschaft. Der jüdische Triumph der flavischen Kaiser’, in M. Meyer, V. Gassner (eds.), Standortbestimmung (Vienna 2010) 151–161.
Schnapp, A., Une histoire universelle des ruines. Des origines aux Lumières (Paris 2020).
Stroumsa, G., La fin du sacrifice. Les mutations religieuses de l’Antiquité tardive (Paris 2005).
Tucci, P.L., The Temple of Peace in Rome. Volume 1 (Cambridge 2017).
Tuck, S.L., ‘Imperial Image-Making’, in A. Zissos (ed.), A Companion to the Flavian Age of Imperial Rome (Malden-Oxford-Chichester 2016) 109–128.
Versluys, M.J., Bülow-Clausen, K., Capriotti Vittozzi G. (eds.), The Iseum Campense from the Roman Empire to the Modern Age. Temple – Monument – Lieu de mémoire (Rome 2018).
Versluys, M.J., Woolf, G., ‘Artefacts and Their Humans. Materializing the History of Religion in the Roman World’, in J. Rüpke, G. Woolf (eds.), Religion in the Roman Empire (Stuttgart 2021) 210–233.
Yarden, L., The Spoils of Jerusalem on the Arch of Titus. A Re-Investigation (Stockholm 1991).
Mulisch 1992. The book was translated, among others, into English in 1996 as The Discovery of Heaven and developed for the screen (film director Jeroen Krabbé; 2001). Moses and the Ten Commandments feature in chapters 43, 47, 52, 54, 55, 57, 60.
For Titus’ share in the Jewish War, see Mason 2016: 402–462. He compares this act with the destruction of Monte Cassino’s Benedictine Convent in 1944 (Mason 2016: 502–508). On the destruction, see Chapot 2020.
Schnapp 2020: 94–101, quotation at p. 100.
As also related by Flavius Josephus (AJ 18.15). I thank Serge Bardet for this precise information.
Stroumsa 2005. Cf. Versluys and Woolf 2021: 213 on dematerialization of cult practices.
Cf. Brighton 2016: 249–250 on the limited importance of the Temple for the Jews, especially those in the diaspora, at the time of its destruction.
For tensions between Jews and Romans, as seen through Roman eyes: Östenberg 2009: 116–117. Magness 2008: 204–212 stresses the vanishment as a dominating factor.
See Versluys, this volume. On imperial triumphs and the relevant research, see Goldbeck and Wienand 2017: 1–26. On the 71 triumph see especially Beard 2003; Millar 2005; Chapman 2009; Schipporeit 2010; Ash 2014 (analysis of Josephus’ narrative); Lovatt 2016: 363–367 (comparing the triumph’s spectacle to that in the arena).
See Huitink, this volume. For Mason 2017: 131 this aspect diminishes the importance of the Flavian victory.
Cf. Exodus 25–28 and AJ 3.108–194. For an extensive comment and elucidation, see Van Henten 2014: 296–305.
See for an evaluation the contribution of Huitink in this volume. See also Bardet 2020.
For the relevance of these descriptions as part of the narrative, see Huitink and Van Henten 2012: 199–202: they occur at moments when Romans get involved, and Josephus sees himself as a guide (BJ 1.3).
For an analysis of this description in terms of a ‘spectacle’, see Chapman 2005: 297–299.
Chapman 2005: 301 points to the dramatic tenor of the word: the Temple can never be rebuilt. Huitink and Van Henten 2012: 210: Josephus blames the revolting Jews who caused the destruction. Huitink reiterates this observation in his chapter in this volume.
Chapman 2020: 185 (italics of Chapman). Chapman 2020: 188–191 analyses the description of the objects which represent the universe by means of their symbolic meaning.
But once entered by Pompey, who did not touch the present treasures, among which were the menorah and the Showbread Table (BJ 1.152–153).
BJ 5.212–214. See on this passage Pena 2020: 160–163. A predecessor of this curtain, hung in front of Moses’ Tabernacle by Moses himself, features in Exodus 26:36–37 and Josephus’ Antiquitates (AJ 3.113).
Pena 2020: 161 gives further references to Babylonian luxurious fabrics.
Magness 2005. For further references, see G. Hasan-Rokem in Fine 2021: 59, 61n.6.
They occur in AJ 3.144, 182, 193, 199; 8.90, 104; 10.145; 12.250. Preceding descriptions in Exodus 25:31–40, 30:1–10 and AJ 3.139–146.
In a personal comment, Jan Willem van Henten has suggested comparing this description of the Temple to that in the Mishna treatise Middot. See https://www.sefaria.org/Mishnah_Middot.3?lang=bi.
Apparently the gold element of the booty was so large that a devaluation of the gold price was the consequence (BJ 6.317).
Cf. Chapman 2005: 307–308; Beard 2007: 108–109. At Caesarea, Titus ‘celebrated’ Domitian’s nineteenth birthday with games which slaughtered 2,500 men (BJ 7.38; cf. Beard 2003: 553). Chapman 2020: 194 recalls the 1.1 million dead in Judaea and 97,000 captives brought to Italy according to BJ 6.426–647.
See for an analysis of Josephus’ description of the procession, Beard 2003; Eberhardt 2005: 268–277; Huitink and Van Henten 2012: 214–217; Ash 2014; Lovatt 2016: 363–367; Mason 2017: 156–171; Frilingos 2017.
On these doubts, see Mason 2017: 127–130, 150 (he remains rather sceptical concerning Josephus’ absence) as well as Huitink in this volume.
Beard 2003: 551 hints at such a possibility of ‘re-enacting his own capture’.
BJ 7.123. There is no need for scepticism about this night shelter (so Beard 2007: 95–96), as has been shown most recently by Scheid 2009: 182 and Mason 2017: 352–156, with references to the Flavian connections with Egypt and Isis. See Versluys, Bülow-Clausen and Capriotti Vittozzi 2018 on the Iseum Campense and these connections.
Eberhardt 2005: 271 gives the number of 144 scenes, but this number is not mentioned in Josephus’ description (BJ 7.139–147).
Chapman 2005: 310. On the spectacle aspect, see Chapman 2005: 309–312.
BJ 7.141–147, discussed by Huitink in this volume. See on this passage Östenberg 2009: 249–251, 253–255.
Mason 2017: 157–160.
For Östenberg 2009: 112–113 this does not imply that they came as the last items in the procession, but rather as the last of the spoils. This suggestion would render them less conspicuous in the eyes of the victors than we might think, but I fail to follow this point.
BJ 7.148–149. Cf. Magness 2008: 201, 209; Chapman 2009: 109; Beard 2003: 94. On the lack of detail in Josephus’ description, see Huitink and Van Henten 2012: 211–212 who argue that Josephus takes the standpoint of an ignorant Roman. See also Huitink in this volume.
Analysis in Östenberg 2009: 111–119; Tucci 2017: 227–231. See also Yarden 1991.
On this peculiar feature, foreign to the Romans, see Magness 2008: 203–204 (with a fine reference to Tac. Hist. 5.9.1 on Roman familiarity with this fact since the time of Pompey).
See Yarden 1991: 28–32. He reacts, among others, to an old discussion by A. Reland (1716: 9–32; partly translated in Yarden 1991: 21–27). On this scholar from Utrecht, see Fine 2021: 21, fig. 21; 90–91, figs. 6.11–6.12.
Frilingos 2017: 59 introduces the ‘Jewish “insider”’.
This option is true for Quinten in Mulisch’s Discovery (Mulisch 1992: chapter 57), who recognizes the slabs as being carried by the man farthest on the left on the Arch’s relief.
Östenberg 2009: 114: probably a scroll with the text of the Torah.
Östenberg 2009: 184–188. Plin. Nat. 12.54.111–112: ostendere arborum hanc urbi imperatores Vespasiani, clarumque dictu, a Pompeio Magno in triumpho arbores quoque duximus. Seruit nunc haec ac tributa pendit cum sua gente (‘The Vespasian emperors showed this kind of tree to the city; it is a remarkable fact to tell that we have, beginning with Pompey the Great, also led trees in the triumph. It now serves and pays tax together with its nation’).
See Mason 2016: 453–459. He would feature on a golden coin showing Vespasian’s victory from Lyon (ibid. fig. 30). Mason 2017: 169–170 downplays the importance of this person and, hence, that of Titus’ endeavour. On captives see more extensively Beard 2007: 107–142; Östenberg 2009: 128–167.
Most recently Mason 2017: 170–173. See the debunking tenor in Beard 2003 and 2007. See also notes 10 and 45.
Popkin 2016: 35. See also Ash 2014. For Josephus and the Flavian emperors, see Den Hollander 2014, esp. the chapter on Titus, pp. 139–199, and works quoted in note 15.
Mason 2017 tends to downplay the Jewish War and its impact and success and, hence, the booty (cf. note 10). Millar 2005: 101–102, however, provides convincing data to argue the opposite. See Huitink and Van Henten 2012: 205 for a similar view. Hölscher 2017: 305 assumes that the triumph was provided ‘mit sensationellen Schaustellungen der Siege und den Aufsehen erregenden Beutestücken aus dem Tempel von Jerusalem’.
Rutledge 2012: 123. Cf. Murphy 2004: 128–164, esp. 154–156. Cf. Östenberg 2009 on the many components of conquest and power on view during the triumphi.
The materiality of the other objects made them precious spoils. Cf. Östenberg 2009: 115.
Yarden 1991; Millar 2005; Miles 2008; Rutledge 2012: 123–157, figs 4.8–9 (Arch of Titus); 275–180. On the coins, see Cody 2003: 107–111.
Huitink and Van Henten 2012: 214.
Östenberg 2009: 262–292, brings her findings together in a chapter with the same title as the book.
I follow Östenberg 2009: 279 in the use of the verb ‘crush’. Serge Bardet pointed my attention to Gil Gambash’s remarks on this matter (Gambash 2019).
Perhaps his lover Berenice might also have provided some information (suggestion made by J.W. van Henten).
Suet. Tit. 1. Cf. Arco 2017: 171; Moormann 2018.
Arco 2017: 201–227, spec. 213–223, fig. 22–31. For the function of the Arch as a monument celebrating the Jewish War, see Millar 2005: 119–122.
CIL VI 944. For new data from the 2016 excavation, see Arco 2017: 229–235; Parisi Presicce 2021; Eck 2022: 34–35. For the inscription without context, see Pfanner 1983: 98; Östenberg 2009: 117–118; Den Hollander 2014: 196–197; Tucci 2017: 7–8.
Mason 2017: 139 sees this as customary for this type of honorific inscription.
Imp. Caes. Vespasianus Aug. / amphitheatrum novum/ ex manubiis fieri iussit (‘The Emperor Caesar Vespasianus Augustus ordered a new amphitheatre to be built with the booty’). CIL VI 40454a. Alföldi 1995; Millar 2005: 117–119. Mason 2017: 160 thinks that the emperors lied about the opulence from Judaea and gave the impression of a major victory rather than a small corrective intervention.
CIL VI 945; Pfanner 1983: 15–16; Eck 2022: 35. As to the Arch’s dating at the beginning of Domitian’s reign, see Pfanner 1983: 91–92. I cannot follow Tuck 2016: 113–115 in his (not explained) suggestion that the Arch was already planned by or even under construction under Titus. For new research, see Fine 2021.
Pfanner 1983: 79–81 (Victoriae); 82–87 (frieze).
They are depicted in numerous publications and it is not possible to refer to all of them. Fundamental is Pfanner 1983: 44–90. See Yarden 1991; Eberhardt 2005: 262–268; Millar 2005: 122–125; Östenberg 2009: 113–115, fig. 10; Tucci 2017: 4–6, fig. 2; 226–227; Fine 2021. Among the first post-antique illustrations is that of Amico Aspertini (Bober and Rubinstein 1986: 203–204 no. 173, 211–213 no. 178). For more illustrations, see Fine 2021.
Thus, Pfanner 1983: 50; Eberhardt 2005: 264. See Pfanner 1983: 50–55, pls. 54–67; Yarden 1991; Eberhardt 2005: 264–267; Millar 2005; Östenberg 2009.
Pfanner 1983: 72. The ‘identity’ of the Arch remains unclear (Pfanner 1983: 71–72; Eberhardt 2005: 267). Katarzyna Balbuza (in Goldbeck and Wienand 2017: 270–271, fig. 8.6) suggests that the triumphators are represented on top of the Arch through which the triumphal procession enters the city on the southern relief of the Arch of Titus (fig. 13.1).
See the drawing reconstruction in Pfanner 1983: 51, fig. 35 (confirmed in Fine 2021: 27). The object measures 67.5 × 45 × 90 cm, i.e. 1.5 × 1 × 2 ‘Ellen’. Most extensively on this object, see Yarden 1991: 71–86.
On these receptacles, see Yarden 1991: 93–100; Fine 2021: 27, with reference to the Misnah Menahot 11:5.
Josephus, AJ 3.291–294.
See most extensively Yarden 1991: 101–106.
See Pfanner 1983: 54, with fig. 39. Kosmos: Yarden 1991: 48–49, with references to older suggestions.
Pfanner 1983: 72–73 excludes that these elements belong to the lampstand and observes the wrong reconstruction in the coat of arms of modern Israel (p. 74). Yet, for this interpretation, these two elements form part of the lampstand’s base (cf. Yarden 1991: 47–48 [arguments in favour of the Roman base]; 60–63 [pro lampstand]). This connection is upheld by many scholars, up to Fine 2016: 32–36; 2021: 91. Curiously, Reland 1716: 56 had already observed that ‘Jews used to abhor images of animals’ (quoted in Fine 2016: 32; Fine 2021: 91), which could have led to a more cautious view. Although not a menorah expert, I tend to follow the Roman view of a separately made base.
On the menorah, see most extensively Yarden 1991: 38–65 and Fine 2016: 1–94. On menorah depictions, see Hachlili 1998: 312–344; Hachlili 2013: 286–324; Hachlili 2016: 196–206; Fine 2016.
Pfanner 1983: 72; Östenberg 2009: 115. In reality, the weight of the menorah, given as one Greek talent of ca. 25.8 kg, was not so great (see for details Pfanner 1983: 74 and the references given in note 99).
Eberhardt 2005: 267 rejects the theological implication of the lampstand and sees it as a symbol of the country only.
In his colour reconstruction, Fine gives suggestions for the texts (Fine 2021: 25–26, figs. 1.16–1.17). Tucci 2017: 226 asks whether they might bear names of ‘the cities and peoples defeated in the Jewish war’, which seems unlikely, since Judaea was seen as a unity and the placards feature in the context of the spoils. It might, however, be true if we assume that other peoples, not named by Josephus who focused on his fellow Jews, were included, as might be evidenced by the presence of images of gods.
Pfanner 1983: 44–50, pls. 45–53; Eberhardt 2005: 263–264.
Pfanner 1983: 45–48; at p. 66 he discusses the usual number of twelve lictors.
Pfanner 1983: 67–70 for the various possibilities.
Beard 2007: 238, fig. 32. See Pfanner 1983: 76–79, pls. 68–69.
Magness 2008: 202.
Pfanner 1983: 56–58. In later studies, this topic is no longer being addressed.
Tuck 2016: 115 points at the nearby location in the area of Nero’s Golden House.
Fine 2021: 8–31, esp. 23–24. Fine and his team admit the limited dimension of their work. The concentration on the menorah came from Fine’s personal involvement (Fine 2016: 1–13; Fine 2021: 165–167). For similar work on the Ara Pacis Augustae, see Foresta 2012.
Thus already Pfanner 1983: 100–101.
In Fine 2021: 32–41.
The presence of allegorical figures amidst his retinue on the triumph panel would be a sound argument, but since these kinds of personifications feature on contemporary and other commemorative monuments like the Cancelleria reliefs as well, this point seems somewhat overestimated.
Schnapp 2020: 459 notes the changing views of medieval beholders on Roman figural scenes in Roman arches like that of Titus.
See on Domitian’s triumphs G. Seelentag in Goldbeck and Wienand 2017: 183–186; Hölscher 2017: 309–210.
Hölscher 2017: 287–288. Significantly, Goldbeck and Wienand 2017 did not include a map with the route in their fine edited volume, whereas Hölscher has one (2017: 291, fig. 9.2). See on this route Beard 2007: 92–105; Popkin 2016: 24–45; I. Östenberg in Fine 2021: 33–34. On the triumph as part of Flavian image building, see Tuck 2016.
See on these notions in the study of the triumph, Popkin 2016: 13–18.
See i.a. Magness 2008: 212–215; Meneghini 2009: 92; Tucci 2017: 225–231; Moormann 2022.
Plin. Nat. 36.101. Detail stressed by Chapman 2009: 111.
See for this stage, Versluys in this volume. Magness 2008: 212–215 has argued that the choice of Pax might be connected with an interpretation of -salem as part of the name of Jerusalem as equivalent of peace, forming an extra argument to see this monument as a Flavian appropriation of the now lost religious centre of the Jews. Even if she quotes some learned references, this seems rather far-fetched to me, at least in Roman eyes, for Romans would see Pax as the bringer of real peace after the conflict in Judaea (and elsewhere) and as ‘assistant’ of the emperors.
Magness 2008: 208.
Popkin 2016: 95. She glosses over this monument.
Millar 2005: 109 suggests the imperial (Neronian?) palace on the Palatine as the new accommodation of these objects, but as far as we know, Vespasian avoided this area as being too much connected with Nero. S. Rocca in Fine 2021: 51 locates them in the Palace of Titus on the Palatine. Yet, there is a rather bizarre, but apparently widely told Jewish story that Titus died atrociously because of, among other things, damaging the curtain and making love with prostitutes on top of the Torah scroll (see G. Hasan-Rokem in Fine 2021: 54–61, with an analysis of a version in Leviticus Rabbah 22:3, translated at pp. 57–58).
Mason 2017: 169.
Eberhardt 2005: 274. For doubts, see Mason 2017: 129.
Chapman 2009: 15–117.
Yarden 1991: 64.
Yarden 1991: 64. See briefly on these texts, Fine 2021: 98, 100.
See on this passage Yarden 1991: 64. Krautheimer 1983: 45 suggests a removal during the Sack of Rome in 410. Yarden 1991: 84–86 and Tucci 2017: 230 relate how Alaric took away the Showbread Table to the South of France and give Procopius’ Bellum Goticum 1.21.41 as a pertinent source. From there it would have vanished into Arabic Spain.
Procop. Bell. Vand. 1.5, 2.9. cf. Tucci 2017: 229.
Yarden 1991: 64 translates
If they remained in Constantinople, they probably were lost in the sack of 614 (Osborne 2008: 178). Osborne 2008: 177–178 gives some medieval Roman sources claiming that (some of) these objects were still in Rome. He suggests that the seven candlesticks on the apse mosaic of SS. Cosmas and Damian might refer to the menorah from the temple treasure (Osborne 2008: 180–181), which idea unfortunately cannot be substantiated. Procopius’ story has formed the basis of Stefan Zweig’s Der begrabene Leuchter from 1937. Here the Jew warning Justinian is the 87-year-old Benjamin Marnefesch who saw the menorah in 455, as a child, when it was brought to the Vandals’ ships. I thank Maarten van Deventer for the reference to Osborne’s article and Luuk Huitink for suggesting Zweig.
See M.-Th. Champagne in Fine 2021: 67–70.
Schnapp 2020: 282–284, fig. 71. He analyses the iconographical programme, a mix of pagan and Christian themes, and situates it within a mixed Anglo-Scandinavian audience in Northumbria.
Fine 2021: 5.
Fine 2021: 173. In similar words at p. 165 and 167.
Responses to the Arch and its reliefs: Fine 2021: 140–169. For responses in the time of COVID, see Fine 2021: 170–175. Fine’s own research originated from his personal commitment (Fine 2021: 165–167).
Versluys in this volume; Versluys and Woolf 2021. On ‘objectscapes’ see Pitts and Versluys 2021.