428 Erich S. Gruen
the peaceful, an enemy to truth and a promoter of lies (4 Ezra, 11.36–46). Rome is a
fearsome monster, wreaking havoc among peoples everywhere, and causing devastation
not to be undone until the end of time. The identification with Babylon is significant. The
Babylonian conquest of Judea, demolition of the First Temple, and subjugation of the
people resonated deeply with the Jewish victims of Rome. And the grim fate that awaited
“Babylon” also awaited Asia, Egypt, Syria, and other foes of Israel (4 Ezra, 15.46–16.17).
Ethnicity is not at issue.
No need to proceed further down this path. Other apocalyptic texts composed in the
era that followed Jerusalem’s fall to Rome provide a range of reactions, whether grief,
despair, resentment, accommodation, or anticipation of theeschaton(de Lange 1978:
265–81; Daschke 2010; Jones 2011). However, even in this age of Israel’s most grievous
affliction, suffered at the hands of the western power, none of the texts ascribes to the
Roman makeup an innate inclination to evil, imbedded in the national character. The
nearest that one comes to it is the passage quoted at the outset from the Fifth Sibylline
Oracle, branding Rome as evil, unjust, unclean, with a murderous heart and an impious
soul, who will ultimately be consumed by fire (5 Sibyl, 167–177). In light of all the other
evidence, the sharp censures should surely not be understood as references to inherent
and inalienable traits. The closest parallel to this text, in fact, and one that the author
surely had in mind, is Isaiah’s prophecy against Babylon in which the prophet denounces
the arrogance of the Babylonians, secure in their wickedness, and forecasts their fiery
demise (Isaiah, 47.8–15; Jones 2011: 225–7). There is nothing peculiarly Roman about
this iniquitousness.
Roman Attitudes
To revert now to the Roman vantage point. We can forgo the conventional and largely
fruitless question of whether Jews encountered anything similar to “anti-semitism” in
its modern manifestation. The concept is anachronistic, and the debate stale (Seven-
ster 1975: 1–35; Gager 1983: 13–34; Feldman 1993: 84–176; Isaac 2004: 442–6,
478–84; Goodman 2007: 551–7). Nonetheless, Roman writings, at least on the surface,
would seem to suggest ethnic prejudice. The hostility has even been taken as the ultimate
case of marginalization in antiquity (Avidov 2009: 1–7, 163–85). Tacitus’ observations,
cited earlier, serve for many as the prime exhibit for Roman bias against an inferior and
tainted folk (Gager 1983: 63–4; Barclay 1996: 314–5; Schäfer 1997: 31–3; Yavetz
1998: 90–8).
Yet, a closer inspection even of this notorious text should cast doubt on the standard
interpretation. Tacitus, in his excursus on the Jews, engages in the irony and cynicism so
characteristic of that historian. Comments and observations rarely say what they mean,
juxtaposition of opposites and sardonic twists and turns regularly reverse expectations and
puncture assumptions, and the whole segment is replete with calculated incongruities
that undermine serious or literal readings (Gruen 2011b: 179–96). Even with such a
perspective, however, that does not settle the matter. Tacitus may have held up to scorn
the attitudes, misunderstandings, and false impressions of the Jews entertained by his
own countrymen. However, were those impressions not themselves the product of eth-
nic bigotry?