Now that the Diaspora has finally caught up with our Torah reading, the Jewish world prepares collectively to conclude its reading of the book of Numbers. But do any of us really understand the significance or symbolism that these repeated censuses and tribal accountings represent? Are we to battle for a literal rendering of these numbers despite apparent challenges from archaeology and even counter-indications from within the text itself? Does it cross a red line to suggest that these numbers represent deep symbolic notions which have been lost in the mists of time and are therefore absent from the entire rabbinic tradition? This is a subject which can cause significant discomfort – some wise people with whom I consulted for this post were happy to share their thoughts but were nevertheless anxious not to named as having engaged with this topic!
i) The argument for a literal reading:
To me, a literal rendering of any biblical text is usually a rebuttable presumption. It is the default position to adopted in the absence of a sufficiently strong counter-indication. For some scholars, the sheer practicalities involved in feeding and caring for a nomadic community numbering several million over a 40 year period is itself testimony to the impossibility of taking the numbers of the book of Numbers at face value. Furthermore, as is often pointed out, no archaeological trace of such an enormous traveling band has ever been unearthed in the Sinai sands. But are such arguments sufficiently persuasive to demand a reinterpretation of the Torah? First of all, the Torah’s own account of the Jews’ journey claims that food was miraculously provided by mannah, and minimal waste produced. One can choose not to believe the Torah’s narrative, but it is jarring to read those who argue that it could not have occurred on account of practicalities and a lack of detected archaeological footprint – something which is thoroughly consistent with the Torah’s own depiction of events.
Furthermore, recent discoveries from the Ancient Near East have led experts to fundamentally question the way in which archaeology approaches and estimates nomadic populations. This article from Professor Erez ben Yosef describes the implications of a chance discovery of extensive copper mines in the desert regions which belonged to Edomite tribes in biblical times. The size and complexity of the mines is demonstrates a large, well-organised kingdom able to martial a massive skilled labour force, and able to administer an enormous collection of surplus food to feed the workers as well as distribution networks. And yet the tent-dwelling nomadic Edomites, are (other than these mines) so invisible archaeologically that as recently as in 2002 Israel Finkelstein and Neil Asher Silber argued that there was ‘no state in Edom before the late eighth century BCE’.
On this basis it appears plausible that a very large and sophisticated nomadic population – such as the Israelites in the desert – left no remains, therefore making Biblical maximalism more plausible. Not just the Edomites but also the enormous Hittite civilisation was initially dismissed as a myth until archaeology discovered evidence of this ancient empire. These examples indicate that we should be cautious when making strong claims on the basis of lack of archaeological evidence from this period – particularly when dealing with nomadic tent-dwelling populations.
ii) biblical indications of smaller population size
Surprisingly for many, the strongest arguments in favour of a reduced estimate of the Israelite desert population may come from within the biblical text itself. God expressly labels the Israelites “the smallest of all nations” (Devarim 7:7) and it is on account of their tiny numbers that God promises that the conquest of Canaan will only be gradual (Shemot 23:7). Read from the perspective of a more modest population estimate, it easier to understand how 70 palms could feed the entire nation (Shemot 15:27) as well as the surprisingly small army sizes in the battle with Midian and those led by Joshua. It also makes it easier to understand how the sacrificial needs of a nation numbering several million could be met solely by Aharon and his sons. Finally, if 600,000 is taken literally, the number of firstborns listed near the start of Bemidbar would imply that each family consisted of over 80 members.
iii) Numbers in the Torah as symbols
Any attempt to interpret the 600,000 number census symbolically, however, must account not only for the overall population figure, but also for the repeated tribal counts in which the 12 tribes are shown to total 600,000. While the 600,000 population size perhaps be seen as symbolic – perhaps related to significant numbers in the ancient world – or even related to the 600 chariots of Pharoah, what can be said about the population sizes of the individual tribes in the censuses?
As far as I am aware, no comprehensive theory has yet surfaced which purports to explain the symbolic significance of the tribal totals. Nevertheless, certain numerical anomalies in these figures can certainly encourage those who pursue such a theory. The numbers 8, 9 and 1 do not appear at all in the hundreds – in either census; almost all are 4 or 5. Astoundingly, the total of the tribe of Ephraim in the first census (40,500) precisely matches that of Gad in the second, while the total of Naftali in the first (53,400) precisely matches Asher in the second. Are these phenomena too unlikely to be a coincidence? (For those who understand Hebrew, I am attaching a link to a fascinating video in the comments which identifies and explores further numerical idiosyncrasies in the tribal counts).
The proposition that the Torah’s numbers for those leaving Egypt and entering the Land of Israel are primarily intended symbolically can draw support from an earlier national total. First of all, the number 70 which the Torah gives for members of Ya’akov’s family who initially went down to Egypt appears deeply symbolic. Notwithstanding the fact that all 70 are listed by name, rabbinic and modern commentators assume that that figure is symbolic, and that the actual number was significantly larger – only two women make the list and few of its younger members feature. Of the 69 named family members, it is striking that descendants of Leah number 32, exactly double the total of her maidservant Zilpah; Rachel’s descendants make up 14, twice the number of those from her maidservant Bilhah.
In later books of Tanach, army sizes also appear to symbolise status rather representing literal numbers of soldiers. The size of Rechavam’s army is stated to be 180,000 and Aviya’s 400,00 – that of Asa by contrast is 580,000 – the exact total of the other two combined. Meanwhile the righteous Jehoshaphat’s army is stated to be 1,160,000 – precisely double that of Asa. There are also midrashic interpretations of army sizes of Avraham’s troops who battled Sodom and Joshua’s troops battling Ai which see them as representing righteousness rather than a number of soldiers. This phenomenon sits comfortably alongside other seemingly symbolic uses of numbers in Tanach, with generations typically represented by the prevalent numbers 40 and 80.
Rabbi Dr Joshua Berman, who discusses much of this in his Ani Ma’amin, notes further that symbolic censuses and genealogies was typical practice in the ancient near east:
“anthropologists have long known that genealogies in pre-modern cultures are not merely records of birth order. They are dynamic records of status and hierarchy within a tribe” which can change “depending on the merits and demerits of that individual’s descendants”.
While such an interpretation is largely absent from rabbinic tradition, it can be detected in the Netziv’s explanation of why the order of Menashe and Ephraim is altered as between the two censuses of the book of Bemidbar as we discussed here.
At the moment, we don’t have a full answer for the numerical symbolism but that does not mean we should dismiss it as impossible. For many though it may not be sufficiently persuasive to justify departing from a literal rendering of the censuses – particularly as we find the 600,000 number appearing elsewhere in the Torah when Moshe complains of the number of mouths to feed (Bemidbar 11:21) and in the accounting for donations to the Mishkan (Shemot 38:26). Can these be viewed symbolically too?
iv) Census as plots and planning
One alternative suggestion for a symbolic interpretation, which adheres more closely to the Torah’s presentation of the census in Parashat Pinchas, may also be worthy of serious consideration. The census in yesterday’s parashah is followed by the phrase: “Thus shall you divide the land…”. The Levites are explicitly not counted among their brethren since “they do not receive a portion and inheritance among you”. And it is in the immediate aftermath of the census that the daughters of Tzelafchad are concerned that their family will not receive a plot in the land. Clearly therefore, the function of the census is linked directly to apportioning the Land of Israel. The earlier census, which took place in the previous generation saw Shimon receive a far larger portion – this was adjusted for size and merit after the tribe’s leading role in the idolatrous immorality at Shittim.
Does such a perspective help us reassess the implications of the 600,000 and individual tribal totals? The 600,000 can perhaps be seen as the number of total plots to be apportioned within the land. This is why the number remains constant between several different desert censuses (even though the Levites were initially included, as noted by Ramban at the start of Ki Tisa). If this is correct, the constantly repeated “pekudeihem” would therefore refer to an entitlement and status rather than a literal count of individuals.
One thing remains clear. Whichever approach is adopted, extensive work lies ahead to unearth the true function of numbers in the book of Numbers.
First posted on Facebook 9 July 2023, here.
