One,” as
though a wholly new era had begun. The prophets had been right. Surely, this was the
Kingdom of God.
Yet in the midst of the celebrations, as Jerusalem was being secured and a fragile
calm was slowly descending upon the city, Menahem did something unexpected. Draping
himself in purple robes, he made a triumphal entry into the Temple courtyard, where,
flanked by his armed devotees among the Sicarii, he openly declared himself messiah,
King of the Jews.
In some ways, Menahem’s actions made perfect sense. After all, if the Kingdom of God
had indeed been established, then it wastime for the messiah to appear so as to rule over it in God’s name. And who else should
don the kingly robes and sit upon the throne but Menahem, grandson of Judas the Galilean,
great-grandson of Hezekiah the bandit chief? Menahem’s messianic assumption was, for
his followers, merely the realization of the prophecies: the final step in ushering
in the last days.
That is not how Eleazar the Temple captain saw it. He and his associates among the
lower priests were incensed at what they viewed as a blatant power grab by the Sicarii.
They put together a plan to kill the self-proclaimed messiah and rid the city of his
meddlesome followers. While Menahem was prancing about the Temple in his royal garb,
Eleazar’s men suddenly rushed the Temple Mount and overpowered his guards. They dragged
Menahem out into the open and tortured him to death. The surviving Sicarii barely
fled Jerusalem with their lives. They reassembled at their base atop the fortress
of Masada, where they waited out the rest of the war.
Seven years the Sicarii waited. As the Romans regrouped and returned to wrest Palestine
from rebel control, as one after another the towns and villages of Judea and Galilee
were razed and their populations tamed by the sword, as Jerusalem itself was surrounded
and its inhabitants slowly starved to death, the Sicarii waited in their mountain
fortress. Only after every rebellious city had been destroyed and the land once again
placed under their control did the Romans turn their sights toward Masada.
The Roman regiment arrived at the foot of Masada in 73 C.E. , three years after Jerusalem fell. Because the soldiers could not attack the fortress
outright, they first built a massive wall around the entire base of the mountain,
ensuring that no rebel could escape undetected. With the area secured, the Romans
constructed a steep ramp up the yawning chasm on the western side of the cliff face,
slowly scraping away tens of thousands of pounds of earth and stone for weeks on end,
even as the rebels hurled rocks at them from above. The soldiers then pushed a huge
siege tower up theramp, from which they spent days bombarding the rebels with arrows and ballista balls.
Once Herod’s perimeter wall finally gave, all that separated the Romans from the last
of the Jewish rebels was a hurriedly built interior wall. The Romans set fire to the
wall, then returned to their encampments and patiently waited for it to collapse on
its own.
Huddled together inside Herod’s palace, the Sicarii knew the end had come. The Romans
would surely do to them and their families what they had done to the inhabitants of
Jerusalem. Amid the steely silence, one of the Sicarii leaders stood and addressed
the rest.
“My friends, since we resolved long ago never to be servants to the Romans, nor to
any other than to God himself, who alone is the true and just Lord of mankind, the
time has now come to make that resolution true in practice.” Drawing his dagger, he
made a final plea. “God has granted us the power to die bravely, and in a state of
freedom, which was not the case for those [in Jerusalem] who were conquered unexpectedly.”
The speech had its desired effect. As the Romans prepared for their final assault
on Masada, the rebels drew lots among them to decide the order with which they
though a wholly new era had begun. The prophets had been right. Surely, this was the
Kingdom of God.
Yet in the midst of the celebrations, as Jerusalem was being secured and a fragile
calm was slowly descending upon the city, Menahem did something unexpected. Draping
himself in purple robes, he made a triumphal entry into the Temple courtyard, where,
flanked by his armed devotees among the Sicarii, he openly declared himself messiah,
King of the Jews.
In some ways, Menahem’s actions made perfect sense. After all, if the Kingdom of God
had indeed been established, then it wastime for the messiah to appear so as to rule over it in God’s name. And who else should
don the kingly robes and sit upon the throne but Menahem, grandson of Judas the Galilean,
great-grandson of Hezekiah the bandit chief? Menahem’s messianic assumption was, for
his followers, merely the realization of the prophecies: the final step in ushering
in the last days.
That is not how Eleazar the Temple captain saw it. He and his associates among the
lower priests were incensed at what they viewed as a blatant power grab by the Sicarii.
They put together a plan to kill the self-proclaimed messiah and rid the city of his
meddlesome followers. While Menahem was prancing about the Temple in his royal garb,
Eleazar’s men suddenly rushed the Temple Mount and overpowered his guards. They dragged
Menahem out into the open and tortured him to death. The surviving Sicarii barely
fled Jerusalem with their lives. They reassembled at their base atop the fortress
of Masada, where they waited out the rest of the war.
Seven years the Sicarii waited. As the Romans regrouped and returned to wrest Palestine
from rebel control, as one after another the towns and villages of Judea and Galilee
were razed and their populations tamed by the sword, as Jerusalem itself was surrounded
and its inhabitants slowly starved to death, the Sicarii waited in their mountain
fortress. Only after every rebellious city had been destroyed and the land once again
placed under their control did the Romans turn their sights toward Masada.
The Roman regiment arrived at the foot of Masada in 73 C.E. , three years after Jerusalem fell. Because the soldiers could not attack the fortress
outright, they first built a massive wall around the entire base of the mountain,
ensuring that no rebel could escape undetected. With the area secured, the Romans
constructed a steep ramp up the yawning chasm on the western side of the cliff face,
slowly scraping away tens of thousands of pounds of earth and stone for weeks on end,
even as the rebels hurled rocks at them from above. The soldiers then pushed a huge
siege tower up theramp, from which they spent days bombarding the rebels with arrows and ballista balls.
Once Herod’s perimeter wall finally gave, all that separated the Romans from the last
of the Jewish rebels was a hurriedly built interior wall. The Romans set fire to the
wall, then returned to their encampments and patiently waited for it to collapse on
its own.
Huddled together inside Herod’s palace, the Sicarii knew the end had come. The Romans
would surely do to them and their families what they had done to the inhabitants of
Jerusalem. Amid the steely silence, one of the Sicarii leaders stood and addressed
the rest.
“My friends, since we resolved long ago never to be servants to the Romans, nor to
any other than to God himself, who alone is the true and just Lord of mankind, the
time has now come to make that resolution true in practice.” Drawing his dagger, he
made a final plea. “God has granted us the power to die bravely, and in a state of
freedom, which was not the case for those [in Jerusalem] who were conquered unexpectedly.”
The speech had its desired effect. As the Romans prepared for their final assault
on Masada, the rebels drew lots among them to decide the order with which they
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