Southern Gateways of the Levant, Part 1 — Geography of Philistia

So, we have been somewhat quiet because we have been busy.  Grad school has not allowed much time for blogging 🙂  However, this semester (and the vagabonding tour) has provided great opportunities to explore the historical geography related to ancient Israel and the Biblical text.  Over this semester, we have visited several “gateways” to the land.  We hope to have a series of multi part posts, detailing a few of these gateways.  Our first one is the Southern Gateways of the Levant, beginning with Philistia.

The Philistia Gateway is part of the bottleneck of routes into and out of Egypt.  It is arguably the most important of all the routes of the Southern Levant—and mostly because the empires of the ancient world made it so in their desire to conquer the oldest and most prestigious empire of antiquity.

Philistia in Israel’s Coastal Plain region is a veritable variety show of rock and soil types. Much of the coastal plain proper is made up of dunes, both young dunes that create a rather inconvenient barrier along the sea, and ancient dunes that have solidified into kurkar. On the east, along the hotly contested boundary between ancient Philistia and Judah, the region is bounded by the rugged Cenomanian limestone (sometimes referred to as “Jerusalem Stone“), that makes up the hills of Judah and the smoother Eocene limestone lowlands of the Shephelah. Between these formations runs the Senonian chalk trough, which helped block much of Philistia’s intrusions into the Judaean Hills. This chalk addition also creates an erosion paradise in the coastal plain, as the terra rosa and rendinza soils of the Cenomanian and Sinonian rocks mix with the earthy Eocene brown forest soil.

Ancient kurkar dune beneath Tel Ashkelon

Thus, the line of Philistia is made up rich alluvial soil, pure along its eastern border, and then mixed with the sandy dunes, coating the grains of kurkar to create brown-red sands. The result of this unique combination of soil types creates a region highly conducive to agriculture, where roots could grow deep and strong in the loose, fertile ground. Produce such as cereals abound, as well as vineyards—indeed, Philistia and especially Ashkelon were renowned across the world of antiquity for their famous wine. However, food crops were not the only yield of Philistia. The coastal geology also invited flax, and the broad, open plains could also be used for animal husbandry. Such tradable products as dairy, wool, meat, wine, and linen meant the citizens of Philistia were able to enjoy the material wealth of the ancient world.

The Shephelah is still important for agriculture today

None of this luxury would be possible, though, without rain. Regular precipitation is crucial to farmlands, and Philistia’s proximity to the Mediterranean guaranteed a much more dependable rainfall than the territories further east and south. Its temperate climate also contributed to the land’s health, where plants and animals would not be subjected to the same deadly cold the northern and mountainous regions could experience. Once again, the nearby sea would protect gardens in the summer as the humidity maintained crucial moisture in the otherwise dry air.

Further south in Philistia, where it intercepts with the desert, the light loess soil provided her with further opportunity. Loess, a pale and dusty soil made of loam and silt carried by the wind from the Sinai, is good, but only with enough moisture—and both the Philistines and later Nabateans seemed to know how to add just the right amount of the necessary water. Ashkelon’s wine often came from the desert vineyards irrigated using technology long forgotten, and beautiful mosaics show donkeys and camels carrying the curiously shaped pithoi (storage jars) to the city.

Some agriculture carried out in the transition between Negev and Coastal Plain of Philistia

Philistia’s geology also shaped its geography. The broad, coastal plains and low hills, as well as the broad, open valleys (emeks) belonging to Eocene formations were ideal for travel. Sources of fresh water were not difficult to find, further encouraging passage. From earliest known times, the international trunk route wove its twin ways along Philistia’s coastline on the west and through the Shephelah to the east on its way from Egypt to Syria and beyond. Her value was not measured solely for her inland charms, though. Here and there, her coastal dunes gave way and great port cities, such as Gaza and Ashkelon, which rose up to welcome travellers by sea, even despite the Southern Mediterranean’s straight-line coast. Her five greatest cities, the famous Pentapolis (Ashdod, Ashkelon, Ekron, Gath, Gaza), each served as a gateway in its own right. Gaza opened the doors of the Southern Levant to her long-time master, Egypt. Ashkelon opened Palestine to seafarers from all over the Mediterranean—Phoenicia, Egypt, and the Aegean—and exchanged riches with them. Ashdod intercepted caravans journeying from Damascus as they descended on Egypt. Across the plain, Ekron and Gath stood guard over the inland branch of the coastal highway, as well as east-west roads leading across the hill country to the Trans-Jordan and the King’s Highway. It is this combination of sea access and inland routes that brought Philistia together with her southwestern partner, the Negev, and seduced many an empire to vie for control of her riches and her access to Egypt and the world beyond.

Coastal Plain of Philistia

A few good general resources on the geology and geography of Philistia, and ancient Israel in general, are James Monson’s “Geobasics in the Land of the Bible” (more geological detail) and “Regions on the Run, Introductory Map Studies in the Land of the Bible,” (more on geography, regions, and trade routes).  Also, visiting the land is quite helpful as well.  And of course, any Biblical text referring to the lands of Philistia, where geographical details can be gleaned.

Through the Shephelah and Beyond

On what was one of the most exciting days of the trip so far, we finished up our Israel leg by winding our way from Jerusalem down to Gath, and up to Tel Aviv through the Shephelah (or Shfela). This is the lowland area of southern Israel in Biblical Judea.

It’s interesting to note the difference between the two sides of the ridge in Judea–on the west is the Shephelah with rolling hills of fertile agricultural land, which you can see in the Sorek Valley photo. On the western side of the mountains is the wilderness of the hill country with its rugged and barren land.

We stopped at the tell of Beth-Shemesh first. This was originally in the Danites’ territory, which was abandoned when the Philistines became too aggressive for Dan’s sensibilities. God allowed their territory to be overrun because they violated His command to utterly drive out the inhabitants of the land (Judges 2:2-4). This city was at an important passage through the Shephelah and the old stomping grounds of our friend Samson. His birthplace and his wife’s hometown are both visible from this tell. The Philistines would later send the Ark of the Covenant up the Sorek Valley on a cart drawn by two very miserable milk cows.

View from the Tell of Beth-Shemesh into the Sorek Valley

Another stop on our way was the tell of Lachish. This was a geek-out site for us. The British Museum has a beautiful display of Sennacharib’s siege against Lachish (note the siege ramp on the right of the mound), from the beginning to the brutal end when the rebels were impaled or skinned alive as the rest of city was led into slavery. The Assyrian army was slowly moving through Judah, ravaging the land and conquering the fortified cities–cities which communicated to each other by signal fires. There’s an emotion that lands somewhere between heartrending and chilling when you read one of the final letters to the military governor saying, “…we cannot see [the signal fire of] Azekah.” Lachish was alone.

Tell at Lachish, Showing Siege Ramp

The last site was Gath (Tell es-Safi). We know this best as the mighty giant Goliath’s hometown. Ironically, the brook of Elah runs at the foot of the city, the same brook from which, further along, David likely lifted the smooth stone that would be Goliath’s bane.

Tell at Gath, Goliath’s Hometown

Now, for the weird note for the day. In Tiberias, across from our hotel, we snapped this photo of a creepy bit of graffiti. Creepy, because that buck-toothed teddy just seems to stare into your soul.

The Creepy Teddy Bear, Part 1

Much to our consternation, we stepped off the bus 10 days later at a random gas station in southern Judea near Lachish, and there–staring into our souls–was Creepy Bear. Again.

Creepy Teddy Bear Stare, Part 2

This is our last post from Israel–we’re heading to Seville, Spain next. We hope you enjoy the next step in time to the Renaissance and beyond!