From Judeans to the Jewish Entity

From Judeans to the Jewish Entity: The Emergence of Jewish Communities Worldwide

The Judeans and Israelites of the Bible do not necessarily correspond to the image of Jews as understood from the Middle Ages onward. This study does not focus on biblical Judeans but rather on the process that led to the emergence of Jewish communities beyond the territory of ancient Israel. While there is a cultural link between the Israelites and Judeans of the royal era and the Jews after the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans, these two worlds remain distinct, both historically and culturally.

It is crucial to distinguish between the era of sacrificial cults in antiquity and the world of monotheistic religions. In ancient empires, religious worship primarily served as a political instrument, aimed at unifying populations under sovereign rule by relying on shared customs and symbols. At the same time, popular beliefs played a predominant role in daily life. It is therefore essential to differentiate between official priestly worship and popular religious practices.

This study focuses on Jews rather than Judaism. The term “Judaism” is a modern concept, whose theological meaning only took shape in the eighteenth century within the framework of religious studies. Rabbinic Judaism, according to its writings, does not so much concern itself with beliefs and opinions as with a set of permitted or forbidden acts. This does not mean that mystical movements such as Hasidism and Kabbalah or rationalist thinkers like Maimonides did not seek to understand Judaism from other perspectives.

The Jewish religion emerged long after the era of sacrificial worship in temples, but the complexity of this transformation is undeniable. The concept of religion, in the Christian sense of the term, does not strictly apply to the definition of the Jewish entity before modern times, particularly in the nineteenth century, when it was reinterpreted by European Jewish thinkers. It is important to note that the notion of religion as we understand it today was nonexistent in antiquity. Subsequently, various forms of “Judaisms” emerged, influenced by the intellectual currents of their time.

The analysis of New Testament and Talmudic texts, and their influence on Jewish existence, reveals this complexity. These two fields of study, rich in interpretations that are often difficult to reconcile, have been transformed by groundbreaking research in recent decades. The historian must then rigorously sift through the most relevant subjects, a task that requires both a critical approach to outdated research and an acknowledgment of historical heritage. My study does not claim to be an exhaustive monograph on the Jewish people nor a complete historical account. Rather, it aims to highlight discrepancies with certain older hypotheses or with dominant national narratives. These new interpretations have only been made possible in light of recent scholarly advancements.

Unlike the era of sacrifices in the kingdoms of Israel and Judah, Judaism is a post-biblical construction, developed under the influence of the Hellenistic world and the literature of the Talmudic sages. The Shulchan Arukh, written in the sixteenth century, almost entirely detached itself from biblical legal codes. Furthermore, although the term “synagogue” existed before the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem, it then referred to a cultural and social space rather than a place of worship. It was only later that the synagogue became a public house of prayer, replacing sacrifices and offerings on altars.

Historians of Judaism have often tended to interpret the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem in 70 CE symbolically, considering it a decisive turning point in the history of the Judeans while minimizing the impact of the catastrophic revolt against the Empire and its political and social consequences. They establish a rigid division between the so-called “Second Temple” period and the founding of the “Spiritual Center of Yavneh” by Yohanan ben Zakkai, perceived as a salvific alternative to national disaster and the loss of Jerusalem’s priestly prestige. This approach, primarily theocentric, neglects the political and cultural dynamics of the Judeans in the Hellenistic world.

In my view, one of the most decisive changes in Judean history is instead linked to their voluntary and gradual migration to new cultural centers, particularly Alexandria, Cyrene, and Antioch. This movement led to the translation of biblical literature into Greek and its adoption by a Hellenistic intellectual elite. In 117 CE, the Roman repression of the Diaspora Revolt triggered a new wave of migration westward to North Africa. It was in this context that a new ethno-religious entity gradually emerged, later referred to as “the Jews.” This transformation necessitates an essential terminological distinction: “Judeans” to designate the citizens of Judea, and “Jews” for this new community, largely shaped by exile and elevated into an existential symbol.

Many scholars still use the term “pagan,” originally pejorative, to describe rural populations perceived as uneducated. In Hebrew, “avodat elilim,” meaning idol worship, is just as derogatory as “pagan.” I prefer to use the more neutral term “polytheist,” although it remains connoted by its prestigious antithesis, “monotheism,” which defines Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. However, these concepts did not exist in antiquity as they are understood today. Furthermore, many peoples labeled as “polytheists” were, in reality, theists who worshipped a deity or an organized pantheon in a syncretic manner.

Can rabbinic Judaism, and even more so Christianity, truly claim to be devoid of any form of belief in multiple entities? The widespread use of terms such as “polytheist,” “pagan,” or “idol worshipper” distorts our perception of antiquity. In reality, polytheism and paganism do not constitute religions per se but rather belief systems that were far more fluid than these modern categories suggest. The true divide, therefore, is not between polytheism and monotheism but between the rituals of antiquity and the religions that eventually replaced them

The pagans of Antiquity bear no direct relation to the modern religious concept or our current perception of religion. Thus, the use of the term “religion” to describe ancient polytheism proves inappropriate, as it risks distorting our understanding of the way of life of societies of that era. Polytheism cannot be considered a religion in the strict sense, as it does not rely on hierarchical structures, codified beliefs, official institutions, defined doctrines, or immutable dogmatic principles. Furthermore, it is not based on a central faith but rather on rituals and practices shared by the entire population. Unlike monotheistic religions, which are founded on faith and dogma and which erect barriers against heretics and other beliefs, the polytheistic societies of Antiquity never experienced religious wars. No one was compelled to practice a particular cult, nor were those who refused to adopt the religion of the conqueror persecuted.

It should also be noted that the worship of gods played only a minor or superficial role in the consciousness of ancient populations. It manifested primarily during festivities, processions, and official ceremonies. Alongside state cults, a body of popular beliefs permeated the masses, nourished by mystical practices, spells, witchcraft, and magic.

The Israeli academic framework maintains a strict administrative and conceptual separation between the Department of Talmud on one hand and the history of the Greco-Roman-Byzantine world on the other. Furthermore, it is impossible to fully grasp the origins of Christianity without situating it within the context of Hellenistic history and culture. This disciplinary fragmentation limits the understanding of long-term cultural processes, which are embedded in world history. Such compartmentalization prevents the establishment of parallels and contrasts between the world described by Flavius Josephus and that of the Sages of the Talmud, as well as between the latter and the theological works of Paul and the Church Fathers. Yet, these universes were in reality interwoven.

The prevailing historical narrative mistakenly suggests that with the end of Josephus’ work, the ancient world simply vanished. In reality, its transformations were more gradual and complex. My objective is to examine certain aspects of the gradual emergence of a Jewish people by shedding light on historical blind spots. This is not an attempt to reconstruct an exhaustive history of the Jews in their native lands but rather to highlight specific aspects of traditional narratives and assess their authenticity in light of contemporary historical sources.

It can be assumed that, following the trauma caused by the Great Revolt against Rome, the upheavals of Ben Kosba’s (Bar Kokhba) insurgency, the Diaspora Revolt, and the disillusionment of an absent Messiah had severe repercussions, particularly a theological crisis similar to that experienced by the Judeans after the capture of Jerusalem by the Babylonians. This eschatological upheaval had a decisive impact on Judean history, shaping their destiny until the early diffusion of the Talmud in the twelfth century. The iconography of that period testifies to this transformation: striking images found in places of worship, baths, coins, and inscriptions reveal a Judean population that had adopted polytheistic practices and Hellenistic customs. This trend is particularly evident in the presence of Greek deities depicted in synagogue mosaics. At the same time, numerous clues in the Talmud suggest that the Sages sought to accommodate these polytheistic practices, choosing to adapt to the realities of their time rather than impose a rigid dogma.

The three revolts against Rome led to a profound transformation of the Judean population, blurring the political identities and ideological currents that had previously structured its society. The Zealots, the Sicarii, and the Yahad sect, known from the Dead Sea Scrolls, disappeared without leaving lasting traces, except for a few written works. Although the economic power of the Temple priests was weakened, they retained the respect of the masses, including that of the rabbis.

Following the suppression of the revolts, three major Jewish communities emerged: Hellenistic Jews, Messianic Jews (who became Christians), and Rabbinic Jews. Judaism under Hellenistic influence, sometimes referred to as “priestly Judaism” or “synagogal Judaism,” is distinguished by the use of divine motifs in synagogue mosaics. Despite losing their roles in the Temple priesthood, priests were still regarded as the social nobility, holding official positions within imperial power structures and enjoying significant prestige within their communities. This form of Judaism proved to be the most dominant of the three, relegating the group of Talmudic Sages to a marginal status within the Jewish population.

When the Talmudic Sages are evoked, collective imagination often associates them with bearded haredim, reminiscent of today’s Orthodox Jews. Yet, the reality of the post-priestly era was quite different: at that time, the beard was not perceived as a sign of religious devotion but rather as a pagan symbol. It is difficult to imagine the 2,400 Sages mentioned in the Talmud, as well as the legendary figures of their narratives, entering a synagogue in Tiberias, Hamat Gader, Beth Alpha, or Sephoris and gazing with indifference—or even with devotion—at depictions of naked men and women adorning the floors and walls. It is equally challenging to picture them before a statue of Zeus in the form of a swan violating Leda. Could one conceive of Yohanan ben Zakkai, Yehuda Hanasi, Rabbi Akiva, and other Talmudic heroes walking over mosaics illustrating the Greek deities Jupiter, Helios, or Dionysus? Or entering a bathhouse in Acre, where statues of Aphrodite, Astarte, or Lycotheia—revered in the region—stood?

It is generally accepted that, from the Maccabean Revolt to the Great Revolt, Judeans remained faithful to the laws of the Torah. Yet, after the catastrophe, this attachment collapsed entirely: the majority adopted a lifestyle steeped in Hellenistic culture. The Sages of the Mishnah and Talmud represented only a tiny minority, with little influence over the rest of the Jewish population. Their writings indicate that after the Great Revolt, Jerusalem was not a ruined city but rather a thriving metropolis where Jews lived according to Hellenistic customs. In this sense, Ben Kosba’s revolt appears to have been directed against this population. Nevertheless, the marginalization of the Talmudic Sages and the widespread adoption of polytheistic lifestyles by most Judeans after the fall of Jerusalem remain largely overlooked in contemporary historical narratives.

Jews can primarily be defined as a religious minority evolving within various nations. Beginning in the nineteenth century, with the rise of territorial nation-states, historians also began referring to them as a “people” or a “nation.” However, these modern terms are inadequate to describe a minority in exile. Their anachronistic usage may lead to confusion and obscure the understanding of that era. The Jews can also be seen as the result of a transition from a territorial Judean population, united by a common language and culture, to a religious minority dispersed among nations. This minority was not only deprived of a territory but also lacked national and state structures, economic institutions, and even legal frameworks.

It is important to clarify that this transition from a territorial nation to an ethnic minority did not begin with Titus’ capture of Jerusalem. This process started much earlier, following Alexander’s conquests and the founding of Alexandria in 331 BCE. This date marks a major turning point: the emergence of a Judean community outside of Judah, which continued to grow and evolve into a new society, blending Hebrew sources with Hellenistic culture. This migration was a voluntary choice, motivated by the appeal of a global cultural center close to Judea. Due to its intellectual prominence and literary wealth, this community exerted a strong attraction. Many Hellenized Greeks adopted certain Judean customs, celebrated their festivals, and, most importantly, appropriated their library, renowned for its antiquity and prestige. This community serves as the starting point for this study, which traces the genesis of Jewish diasporas in the Hellenistic and Roman worlds up to the repression of the Diaspora Revolt.

To understand the process of Jewish dispersion, it is essential to analyze the many available sources and track the movement of this population across the East and the southern Mediterranean basin—regions where cultural Hellenism took the deepest root. This study explores the political events preceding the Great Revolt and the destruction of Jerusalem, emphasizing the cultural and intellectual context of the time. It was during this period that a post-biblical literature of multiple genres emerged, much of which remained unknown until the discovery of the Judean Desert manuscripts in 1948. This era is also distinguished by the abundance of historical and social sources from both Judean and Greco-Roman traditions, allowing us to trace with precision the transformation of a Judean population into a Jewish diaspora.

A new era, profoundly transformative in Jewish history, begins following the Bar Kokhba Revolt and extends up to the time of Saadia Gaon and Sherira Gaon in the 10th century, or even to the First Crusade (1096–1099). This period is marked by profound changes that shaped the progressive evolution of Judaism. However, it is essential to highlight a glaring lack of archival records documenting historical events over more than a millennium, as well as an almost total absence of data on the daily lives of most Jews worldwide. This deficiency has often been overlooked or misinterpreted in research.

Scattered mentions in the writings of the Church Fathers and Arabic-Muslim literature occasionally reference intercommunal relations within the former Byzantine Empire and North Africa, yet they fail to provide a coherent historical framework of the Jewish world over more than a millennium. This gap is particularly problematic concerning the origins of Jewish communities in Northern and Eastern Europe, where our knowledge remains extremely limited.

Faced with this scarcity of sources, research has unfortunately followed a biased path. Lacking solid historical references, the study of Jewish history has gradually refocused on Talmudic literature. It is from this perspective that I propose to examine the historiography of the vast rabbinic corpus, emphasizing the challenges of its dating. According to my findings, this body of work, likely written around the 10th century, has been artificially projected by scholars onto much earlier periods. Consequently, many historians have constructed the notion of a supposed “Mishnaic and Talmudic era,” assuming that the history of this period, from the Great Revolt to Saadia Gaon, was exclusively defined by the marginal group of Talmudic Sages. However, this approach contradicts recent advances in historical research.

To compensate for the absence of tangible sources, scholars have often succumbed to the temptation of filling this void with the myths and legends of the Talmud. Yet, it is crucial to remember that while rabbinic literature is of paramount importance in various respects, it offers very little reliable information about the daily lives of Jews worldwide. Confronted with this reality, many researchers have taken methodological liberties, treating these legends as historical facts. As a result, the heroic figures of the Talmud have been used as a foundation to artificially reconstruct over a millennium of Jewish history. Such an approach weakens the credibility of research in this field. However, science is based on the recognition of its own limitations: it must accept that some historical periods may remain forever obscure. The desire to fill these gaps at the cost of methodological distortions, transforming legendary narratives into established facts, runs counter to scientific rigor.

One of the privileges of research is precisely to acknowledge its own blind spots. Yet, human nature seems inevitably inclined to fill voids, even at the risk of favoring speculation over facts. The history of this millennium has thus been largely shaped by conjecture, some of which have long been discredited. In global historiography, this period has been labeled the “Dark Ages,” not only due to the lack of sources but also because of a frequently disparaging view of the culture of that time. It is therefore crucial to challenge the erroneous use of the expression “Mishnaic and Talmudic era.”

Historiography constitutes one of the major axes of this study. I have thus deemed it essential to undertake a critical reexamination of three fundamental literary corpora to assess their role in the formation of religions and, more specifically, the Jewish people. These are the New Testament, the Quran, and rabbinic literature. These works profoundly influenced the culture and beliefs of a vast portion of the known world at the time, while rabbinic literature contributed to shaping what would become the identity of the Jewish people. The abundance of written testimonies documenting the history of the Judeans under Greco-Roman rule abruptly ceases after the works of Flavius Josephus. This Judean historian left us rich and detailed accounts in which he did not hesitate to recount both historical facts and myths and legends prevalent in his time. As is often the case with ancient works, these accounts sometimes contain a degree of exaggeration. However, thanks to our knowledge of Greco-Roman and Near Eastern cultures, it is possible to analyze them with a critical perspective.

Until now, a rigorous historiographical critique of these three literary corpora has been lacking, unlike the extensive studies conducted on the Bible and other ancient texts. This research therefore aims to place these writings in their historical and cultural context, pose essential questions about their dating, and provide plausible answers through a critical and methodical rereading. However, despite all these efforts, the vast gap in our understanding of the past remains evident. As essential as they may be, these three corpora alone cannot fill the void left by the absence of direct historical sources.

What do we know about the historical Jesus? Did he truly exist? Did the authors of the Gospels have concrete knowledge of his life? Who was the real Jesus? Was he a Messiah, a prophet, an intellectual, or a rebel, an enchanter, a charismatic preacher, or merely a fisherman? These possible figures fail to coherently outline a single and unified person. The Gospels, both canonical and otherwise, only intensify misunderstandings regarding Jesus’ true nature. How should we interpret the diversity of his representations? Is Judas an authentic figure? Was a traitor necessary to dramatize Jesus’ life? Did Paul actually author the epistles attributed to him? Was he Judean or Greek? When were the various writings of the New Testament composed? How did Jesus’ first circle of disciples react after his crucifixion? Is there an intrinsic link between Jesus of Galilee and Christianity? Some chapters of this research focus on the lack of historical benchmarks concerning the figure of Jesus, offering avenues to resolve some of these unanswered questions.

It is evident that Christianity did not emerge during Jesus’ lifetime, nor even with the writing of the New Testament. Until the early 6th century, despite Constantine’s Edict of Milan (313), the distinction between Jesus’ disciples and other Jews remained unclear. Within the eschatological context that characterized Roman rule in Judea, Jesus was hardly distinguishable from other individuals who claimed to be the Messiah. The primary issue separating Jesus’ disciples from other Judeans revolved around the arrival of the Messiah: Had he already come as a suffering Messiah to atone for the sins of the people, or was he still expected?

Contrary to common belief, Christianity did not emerge from Judaism but developed alongside it. Both religions stem from a shared cultural reservoir, that of biblical tradition. In many respects, most New Testament narratives do not differ significantly from the world revealed in the Dead Sea Scrolls or even from the teachings of the Sages of the Talmud, which were only written down much later.

In the 1980s, scholars made a major shift by reintegrating Jesus into his Judean world and its cultural and geographical context. This significant change was made possible by the publication of studies on the manuscripts discovered in the Qumran caves, which undeniably reveal the context of Jesus’ life and that of his followers. After his crucifixion, the authors of the Gospels were still deeply rooted in this world of Hebrew, Aramaic, and Hellenistic culture, prompting Jesus’ biographers to explore the ideological and political currents among Hellenized Judeans to better understand Christianity’s evolution.

The richness and diversity of biblical literature sparked great interest among the Hellenistic intellectual class. To these intellectuals, this Hebrew literary treasure was even more significant than the cultures of ancient Egypt and the Mesopotamian empires. Ironically, its diffusion throughout the world was not carried out by Judeans, but by early Christians, who spread this literature across the Hellenistic world. This unique phenomenon, often overlooked in world history, is striking in its scope and profound influence on many aspects of daily life. This cognitive revolution is almost absent from school curricula. Several chapters of this study propose a renewed reading of the New Testament writings, drawing on the latest advances in critical research in this field.

The question of terminology is crucial for understanding life in antiquity, especially when comparing it with modern modes of thought, which can lead to misinterpretations. The transition from ancient worship to the world of religions raises methodological issues, necessitating a reassessment of the terms and concepts we use. From this perspective, during the Hellenistic-Roman period, it would be more appropriate to refer to the population living on its land as “Yehudaim,” meaning Judeans, rather than “Yehudim,” Jews. This distinction aims to separate a people belonging to a sovereign territory from a religious minority in exile. The population of a kingdom or state possesses its own language and culture and leads an autonomous life, even if influenced by the dominant empire’s global culture. In contrast, the term “Jew” is undeniably linked to religion and a synagogue-based liturgical practice devoid of sacrifices. Religion, in the modern sense, only emerged after the gradual decline of ancient worship and the adoption of the idea of a universal god governing the universe. Conflating these two notions risks creating anachronisms.

The terminology used in New Testament studies can also distort our understanding without us even realizing it. This is particularly true for anachronistic terms such as “Christians” and “Christendom,” which obviously did not exist during Jesus’ lifetime or even at the time of the New Testament’s composition. Similarly, terms like “christianos” to designate followers of the Messiah can be misleading when associated with Jesus’ immediate circle. These terms only came into use from the second half of the 2nd century. The term “ecclesia,” which originally referred only to small communities of Jesus’ disciples in various localities where Paul preached, is now used to designate a church building. Was Jesus a Judean, or did he belong to a rival religion? It is therefore preferable to avoid using, in New Testament studies, vocabulary and terminology derived from Christian theology of the Church Fathers’ era or the Middle Ages.

The Mishna, the Talmud, and the writings of the Sages raise many questions and play a central role in this research. The emblematic figure of Yohanan ben Zakkai represents a major turning point in the national narrative of Jewish history. More than any other, he symbolizes the transition from Hebrew-Hellenistic culture to the world of Talmudic academies and its rabbis. His role in the national narrative as a key figure of this transition triggered a shift that marked the rupture between Greek thought and rabbinic exegesis. The philosophical and scientific traditions of the Hellenistic world appear irreconcilable with the halakhic debates of the Talmudic schools. To us, these are two worlds with no tangible connection.

Beyond this antagonism, there is also a clear visual opposition. Anyone immersed in the world of halakhah and the legends of the Mishna and Talmud would be surprised to discover many synagogues in Galilee and Judea with mosaic floors depicting unsettling images. These mosaics provide insights into a cultural lifestyle radically opposed to that of the Talmud. The nature of these depictions leaves no doubt about the vast gap separating the localities where these mosaics were created from the rabbinic academies. Fundamentally, the world of the Talmudic academy student stands in direct contrast to the Greek world’s focus on the body and athletic practices. A similar divide existed within Greek culture itself, between the worlds of sports and public baths and that of philosophers.

This study aims to address, among other things, the historiography of the Talmud and poses the following questions: Can the literature of the Sages provide us with historical insights into the Jewish world? What do we know about rabbinic academies in Judea and Babylonia? What did Jewish life within these institutions look like? Can Talmudic legends offer historical details about Jewish life at the time? What lessons can we draw from them? Furthermore, what was the perspective of the Sages of the Talmud on their own legends? Should we question the historical existence of the Talmud’s legendary figures?

To answer these questions, it is crucial to explore a fundamental topic often neglected by academic research: the exact period of the compilation of the Mishna, the Talmud, and the literature of the Sages. Did the Oral Torah remain purely oral, or was it committed to writing? If transcription occurred, when did it take place? Who were the authors and editors of these texts? What can we learn about them from their writings? The term “Oral Torah” is actually misleading, as what we have before us are written texts that may have originally included oral elements before being recorded. They should therefore be approached from this perspective.

The historiography of the “Oral Torah” has sparked little interest among Talmud scholars. They have not truly addressed whether the texts of the Mishna and Talmud constitute written literature or if they are partly the result of oral transmission. Likewise, they have not explicitly determined which elements were initially recorded in writing and which were orally transmitted to the redactors. The current printed text inevitably attests that, at some point, the Talmud transitioned from a presumed oral state to a written document, whether on parchment or as a codex on paper.

At this stage of research, should we uncritically accept the traditional Talmudic chronology? The prevailing consensus assumes, without dispute, that Yehuda HaNasi “edited” the Mishna, while Rav Ashi and Rabina “edited” the Talmud orally. But what does “editing” actually mean? Can one edit a text that was never written? Is it relevant to speak of editing when dealing with oral transmission? The chronology of the Mishna and Talmud proposed by Sherira Gaon in the 10th century in his two epistles remains widely accepted. But on what reliable sources do his claims rest? Do these epistles genuinely inform us about the identity of the Talmud’s authors?

The current research does not provide answers to these questions; rather, it raises new ones that the “critique of the Talmud” avoids addressing. Most scholars are hesitant to tackle these issues head-on, preferring to maintain ambiguity in order to avoid disturbing ancient traditions. At times, they go so far as to assert that the period of the Talmud’s composition is secondary. In my view, such an approach contradicts any rigorous scientific methodology. Some researchers assume that the Sages of the Talmud were indifferent to their own history and were only concerned with the legislative questions of their time. This perspective leads them to artificially recreate historical events by transforming the legends of the Mishnah and the Talmud into established facts, without critical reflection. Anyone searching for the term “critique of the Talmud” on a search engine would find no articles by that name, while a search for “critique of the Bible” would yield hundreds of results in various languages.

In my work, I have made a point of establishing methodological and epistemological distinctions that some scholars overlook. I am particularly thinking of historians who ignore the theory of literary genres and desperately try to date the origins of stories or legends through the lens of Antiquity. Some fail to account for the concept of historical time and overlook the fact that ancient authors could not view their past from the perspective available to modern researchers. Can we assume that the Sages of the Talmud had access to the entire biblical library? Were they even aware of any of the apocryphal writings discovered in the Judean desert? From an epistemological standpoint, I found it essential to highlight the distinction between the written sources preserved and those transmitted orally. Without these precautions, we risk distorting the historical reality.

For convenience, I use the conventional term “Sages of the Talmud.” In general, I do not refer to figures whose existence is uncertain but to the authors who composed the Mishnah and the Talmud. As is customary in research, I have distinguished the Sages as literary figures from the actual authors of the Talmud.

I have structured this work into four parts: the Judeans in the Hellenistic world, the Jews within their communities under Arab conquest, and, between these two sections, three historiographical chapters dedicated to the New Testament, the Qur’an, and rabbinic literature. The goal is to analyze how, over a millennium, Jewish communities emerged across the world. This study traces the fate of the Judeans after the repression of the Diaspora Revolt and the fall of the Greek and Roman empires, while examining the evolution of North Africa from its status as a Hellenistic center to the implantation of Christianity, then the golden age of the Arabic language and Islam.

Surprisingly, the Arab conquests took place without major battles, prolonged sieges, or significant resistance. How did the scientific power of empires yield to soldiers from the desert? New research is beginning to shed light on these enigmas. This study explores a transitional period that profoundly reshaped the world, and particularly the history of the Jews. Its significance lies in the historiographical analysis of the sources of the three monotheistic religions: the Talmud, which detached Judaism from royal sacrificial rituals; the New Testament and Christian literature, which transformed the Greco-Roman world; and the dissonance between the Qur’anic text and Islamic theology. To this day, global culture draws from these traditions, illustrating the lasting impact of the literary heritage that originated in Israel.

The final chapters of this book explore the myths surrounding the origin of the Jews in Roman Ifriqiya and the period of their establishment in the region under Arab-Muslim rule. This period extended into the Middle Ages, under the Berber dynasties of the Almoravids and Almohads. I rely on the historiography of these periods, analyze the perspectives of Arab historians on the origin of the Jews, and challenge certain well-established legends about them. The question of the Jewish identity of Al Kahina, the heroine of the Berber revolt against the eastern Arab conquest, is a central point in this debate.

In this research, Europe is absent, and this is not by chance. Indeed, we have no certainty about the emergence of the first Jewish communities in Europe, notably in Speyer, Worms, and Mainz, before the Crusades. Outside the major Jewish centers of North Africa, such as Alexandria, Cyrene, and Carthage under Roman rule, the Judeans had settled in the Hellenistic cities along the Syrian coast, mainly in Asia Minor and Cyprus. In addition to this dispersion, there were small communities in certain Greek cities and in Rome. But what can be done when Jewish history outside of Western Asia and North Africa remains obscure? One turns to legends, as a lifeline. However, the legend of the conversion of the Khazars, a question already settled, will not be addressed in this study.

Humanity struggles with the gaps in its history. Historians fear these ruptures in the narrative of the past and, driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge, do not hesitate to formulate baseless hypotheses to fill these gaps. It is, in my opinion, in this way that the anonymous authors of the Gospels proceeded after the death of Jesus. Knowing almost nothing about his life, except for his crucifixion, they invented characters and events to build the biography of their hero, which reflects less his real existence than the tensions and aspirations of their own communities. The Sages of the Talmud followed a similar approach: deprived of sources about the generations before them, they created prodigious figures to populate their past and thus satisfy their need for historical continuity.

This book deals with the history of a pivotal period that profoundly reshaped the world and, in particular, transformed the fate of the Jews. Its major interest lies in the historiographical exploration of the sources of the three monotheistic religions: the Talmud, which detached Judaism from the sacrificial rituals of the royal era to adapt it to the realities of its time; the New Testament and the Christian literature of the Church Fathers, which deeply altered the Greco-Roman world; and the striking contrast between the Qur’anic text and the theological development of Islam. To this day, the global cultural sphere continues to study, interpret, and debate the literary treasure born in the tiny territory of Israel, between Dan and Beersheba. This interest remains intact, and it is hard to imagine universal culture without the biblical narratives or without the Judean contribution to the Christian and Qur’anic traditions, which forms an essential pillar of the world’s intellectual heritage.