They could be proverbial white elephants: monumental fortresses built thousands of years ago in the desolation of modern-day southern Israel and Jodan, with elaborate gates and thick walls rising above the landscape and visible from miles away.
Some archaeologists have seen them as relics of the fabled Israelite monarchy of David and Solomon, strongholds built by mighty biblical kings in Jerusalem to rule over conquered desert tribes and control the trade routes. But contemporary scholarship has brought the historicity of the united Israelite monarchy very much in doubt. Most researchers today agree that David and Solomon, if they did exist at all, ruled over a small provincial kingdom in the isolated hills of Judah, later aggrandized into an empire by biblical redactors.
Still, the majestic forts of the southern Levantine deserts do exist, with their purpose and builders remaining a tantalizing mystery for archaeologists. Now, recently published studies bolster the idea that Solomon had nothing to do with these fortresses. However, they also show that later monarchs ruling over the northern Kingdom of Israel may have indeed been the initiators of a network of fortresses built to protect trade routes.
The largest of these structures is the sprawling fort of Ein Hatzeva, in a desert oasis on the northern end of the Arava Valley, which runs through the eastern Negev from the Dead Sea to the Red Sea along the modern-day Israeli-Jordanian border. Other forts stand guard over the ancient copper mines at Feynan, just a few kilometers across the Arava from Ein Hatzeva; and at the Jordanian port of Aqaba, identified by some early researchers as the biblical Etzion Geber, where Solomon’s fleet was anchored.
Like many cities and historical sites across the Levant, these fortresses are layered: they were built and rebuilt at different times, with various incarnations raised atop each other. To understand the story of these places, archaeologists have to peel back the layers, and figure out how each stratum relates to its contemporary sites elsewhere.
In particular, Ein Hatzeva has been the subject of intense research recently, including a study of its four-chambered gate published earlier this year in Tel Aviv: Journal of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University, as well as a radiocarbon study to date the fortress, which was published last month in the journal Levant.
These studies deal with the most impressive remains visible today at Ein Hatzeva, the massive walls and the well-guarded entrance of an 8th century B.C.E. fortress. We’ll return to this incarnation of the site a bit later. But first let’s go even further back in time and talk about King Solomon.
The copper empire
Ein Hatzeva was a spring that watered a lush oasis identified as the biblical Tamar, later known as Tamara in the Roman and Byzantine periods. It was a rare lush spot in the desolation of the Arava and a key junction on the international trade routes. There, caravans could turn west, climbing into the Negev highlands toward Egypt and the Mediterranean port at Gaza, or continue northward to Jerusalem and ultimately Syria and Mesopotamia.
The ancient stronghold was almost entirely excavated in different stages from the 1970s to the 1990s by archaeologists Rudolph Cohen and Yigal Israel. Cohen died in 2006, before publishing most of his findings, further complicating the interpretation of the site.
At the core of Ein Hatzeva archaeologists found an ancient four-room building that was erected on an artificially-raised earthen podium about 3 meters high. This is the structure that the site’s original excavators linked to the time of Solomon, who, based on the biblical chronology, would have reigned in the midst of the 10th century B.C.E. Perhaps these were even the very fortifications that this great monarch was said to have built there according to 1 Kings 9:17-18. “And Solomon (re)built Gezer. He built up Lower Beth Horon, Baalath, and Tamar in the desert of his land.”
While the building is well-made, it is not a fortification. It’s more of a trading outpost, says Dr. Doron Ben-Ami, an Israel Antiquities Archaeologist who has dug at the site and led the recent publications on it.
The artificial podium on which this early incarnation of Ein Hatzeva was built was raised not for defensive purposes but likely because it was adjacent to the spring, and its builders wanted to protect it from sinking into the water due to the high level of seismic activity in the Arava rift valley, he says.
But could it, hypothetically, be Solomon’s work? Well, maybe, but probably not. A 2024 study by Ben-Ami, Dr. Johanna Regev and Prof. Elisabetta Boaretto, Israel’s top radiocarbon dating expert from the Weizmann Institute, showed that this ancient structure dates to the end of the Early Iron Age, and specifically the latter part of the 10th century B.C.E.
This is close to the time when Solomon is supposed to have reigned, but not quite: the radiocarbon dating puts the ancient trading outpost in the time of Solomon’s successors and particularly close to the campaign of the Egyptian pharaoh Sheshonq (Shishak in the Bible) in Canaan. This invasion, described in the Bible as well as at Sheshonq’s temple in Karnak, is believed by scholars to have been an abortive attempt by the pharaoh to restore Egypt’s Bronze Age empire in Canaan, as well as control the mining and trading of copper, especially from nearby Feynan, the largest metal deposit in the region.
Additionally, petrographic analysis, conducted by Dr. Anat Cohen-Weinberger of the IAA, showed that the pottery found in this building contained copper slag, further indicating a link between this early incarnation of Ein Hatzeva and the industry at Feynan. At this time, between the late 10th century and the early 9th century B.C.E., the copper industry at the Jordanian site was booming, particularly at the massive Early Iron Age mining and smelting operation known today as Khirbet en-Nahas (“ruin of copper” in Arabic). Here, a monumental fortress was built, also in the 10th century B.C.E., likely to protect the mining and smelting industry, previous research has shown.
It then stands to reason that the outpost at Ein Hatzeva was a waystation for the copper coming from Feynan, just 20 kilometers (13 miles) eastward as the crow flies, Ben-Ami says.
But the question remains: who built the early outpost at Ein Hatzeva and the large fortress at Khirbet en-Nahas?
There are two leading theories among archaeologists: one is that these structures were built under Sheshonq’s orders, following his campaign in Canaan, as part of the pharaoh’s bid to control the flow of metal and redirect it toward Egypt, Ben-Ami says.
The other possibility is that they are ancient relics of an early Edomite state, a political entity that would fully come into its own later in the Iron Age.
Whoever was responsible, it is quite clear that this copper trading network didn’t last too long. Based on the radiocarbon dating, the outpost at Ein Hatzeva appears to have been abandoned at the turn of the 10th century B.C.E., after maybe 30 or 40 years of operation, Ben-Ami says. A few decades later, the copper industry at Feynan also petered out, likely outcompeted by cheaper metal exported from Cyprus.
Return of the king – of Israel
Ein Hatzeva stood abandoned for more than a century, until someone else built a new and bigger structure atop the Early Iron Age outpost. The artificial podium was enlarged and a massive square fort was plopped on the site, measuring 100 by 100 meters.
Most of the inside was occupied by an open courtyard, probably to give shelter to caravans, and by a small citadel – a 50 by 50 square within the larger square – defended by towers and the four-chambered gate. The foundations of the thick casemate walls, built in roughly dressed limestone, were three meters thick, and about two meters tall, and would have been topped by another two meters of mudbricks, all covered in white plaster, Ben-Ami says.
The massive fortress, standing on the artificial podium in the flat desolation of the Arava and gleaming in the sunlight, would have been visible from miles away, he notes.
“The whole idea is quite symbolic, it’s a large fortress that says ‘we are here, we dominate this place’,” Ben-Ami tells Haaretz in a phone interview. “The question then is: who is that ‘we’?”
For a while archaeologists have situated this large fortress in the 8th century B.C.E., based on their finds and the architectural layout, but that still leaves us with two possible builders. If the fortress was constructed in the early part of that century, the likely initiator would have been the Kingdom of Israel.
While, as mentioned, the historicity of the united Israelite monarchy in the 10th century is very much in question, there is little doubt that the Iron Age Levant housed two separate Israelite polities, the northern Kingdom of Israel, with its capital in Samaria, and the smaller southern Kingdom of Judah, centered on Jerusalem. Both kingdoms are historically well-attested, archaeologically and in extra-biblical writings.
Based on archaeological evidence and the biblical text, the northern kingdom was the dominant force and in the first half of the 8th century B.C.E. ruled large parts of the Levant, including its southern neighbor Judah and the Negev Desert. However, that kingdom was felled by the Assyrian Empire around 722 B.C.E. Large parts of the kingdom’s population were displaced or deported, giving rise to the biblical story of the Ten Lost Tribes, while the Mesopotamian juggernaut also made Judah its vassal and subjugated the rest of the Levant.
So depending on when in the 8th century B.C.E. the fortress was built, it should be possible to determine whether the Israelites or the Assyrians were responsible, Ben-Ami says.
That answer comes from the study published in the journal Levant in April by Ben-Ami, Boaretto and colleagues, who used charred barley grains found in a granary at Ein Hatzeva to date the fortress.
With a 90 percent probability, the radiocarbon analysis places these short-lived materials in the first half of the 8th century B.C.E., the researchers report. This means it is very likely that the construction of Ein Hatzeva was initiated by the kings of Israel. It may have been ordered by Joash, who vanquished Judah and brought Jerusalem under Samaria’s rule (2 Kings 14:8-14) or by his son, Jeroboam II, who brought the northern kingdom to its peak territorial extent.
Architecturally, the attribution also makes sense, as building large square or rectangular fortresses on artificially raised platforms was a hallmark of Israelite strongholds from the early days of the kingdom, and can be seen at northern sites like Samaria and Jezreel, Ben-Ami and colleagues note.
The spices must flow
Indirectly, the results also attribute to the kings of Israel the construction of another desert stronghold, the one at Tell el-Kheleifeh, today between the Israeli Red Sea port of Eilat and Jordan’s Aqaba, the researchers conclude. This seaside fort was also traditionally linked to Solomon, believed to be his naval base at Etzion Geber. But again, it has been quite clear for a while that it belongs to the world of the 8th century B.C.E., nearly 200 years after the putative death of Solomon.
Albeit smaller, it shares Ein Hatzeva’s square shape, layout and structure, previously leading archaeologists to conclude the two forts were built by the same hand, possibly even the same architect. While they did not carbon-date it directly, the Ein Hatzeva researchers feel confident that Tell el-Kheleifeh as well should be attributed to the last great rulers of the northern kingdom of Israel.
So, Ein Hatzeva and Tell el-Kheleifeh join another early 8th century B.C.E. desert stronghold, Kuntillet Ajrud, which is located in northeast Sinai and was previously identified as Israelite thanks to inscriptions found there. Together, these strongholds formed a network that guarded and controlled the caravan routes bringing spices and other goods from Arabia to Mesopotamia and the Mediterranean, thus accruing greater prosperity for the Kingdom of Israel, the researchers say.
When Israel was vanquished by Assyria, Ajrud was abandoned, possibly because it was far too much to the west to bother with. Ein Hatzeva and Tell el-Kheleifeh continued to serve the new masters of the Levant, who we know from ancient texts were equally interested in keeping the spice flowing, Ben-Ami and colleagues conclude.
The forts served that function for a couple of centuries, until they were seemingly abandoned in the early 6th century B.C.E., when the Assyrian empire collapsed and new powers took over in the Levant, first the Babylonians, then Persians and the Greeks. While caravans continued to traverse the desert and likely refresh themselves at the spring of Ein Hatzeva, that site stood abandoned for some 500 years, until the Romans rebuilt the stronghold, to secure the eastern border of the empire and, once again, secure the spice routes.
This cycle of occupation and abandonment continued through the Islamic and Ottoman periods, all the way to the British Mandate and the establishment of the State of Israel, and the founding of a moshav there. But, still today, motorists driving from the south on the modern road passing by Ein Hatzeva must make the same choice travelers have made for thousands of years: turn westward on the serpentine “Scorpion’s Ascent” that winds through the Negev mountains to Be’er Sheva and onward to the Mediterranean or continue north toward the Dead Sea and Jerusalem.
As the French like to put it: “Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.“
