Commentary on 2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33

Klaus-Peter Adam

David’s care for his son Absalom, despite his rebellion, is telling.¹ David still seeks to protect his rebellious son in an ongoing civil war against his own army. Yet, protecting a rebellious son proves to be impossible, and David’s own commander Joab kills the insurrectionist heir. Absalom is the next in line to the throne and presents a natural threat for the Judean king, but at the same time, David loves Absalom and hopes that, in due time, he would be king over Judah.

Like in a democracy, the peaceful transition of power, here the royal rule from one to the next generation, can expose the system to chaos. David’s love for Absalom corrupts his capability to wisely decide as a ruler.

Absalom’s death: Part of a chain of killings and counter-killings, loss of a son and heir

Absalom is not the first victim of Joab, nor has he been innocent. Absalom’s death vindicates in some ways his prior killing of his brother Amnon in revenge for his sister Tamar’s rape (2 Samuel 13–14). He also attempted to kill his father in his revolt. Even though Absalom’s killing comes on the heels of his own efforts to annihilate other family members, David’s pain over Absalom’s death is meant to demonstrate how this form of justice, for a murderer in the context of a family feud, will leave many grieving.

Thus, when 2 Samuel 18 presents Absalom’s death by Joab’s hand as a typical incidence of feuding in a family context, it does not applaud feuding structures as a conflict-settlement practice. Because this is the royal family, Absalom’s death is also part of a political power play in which Joab kills an insurrectionist. A deeply hurting father, David must realize that he has killed his heir to the throne. With David’s grief over the loss of his son and heir, the Bible unequivocally hints at the ethical limits of feuding.

Over the past decade, US political discourse has become increasingly hateful and personalized. Populistic politicians have incited violence and even death threats against public officers of all three government branches. By doing so, they have revived structures of personal enmity in the public arena in ways that are typical for feuding societies. Consider, for instance, the killing of the rebellious Absalom.

The preacher may point out that modern democracies require mechanisms of dispute settlement that are different from those of feuding societies, including monarchies. Political opponents in a democracy must foremost subscribe to the mutual respect of opponents and must abide by the legal limits of political enmity. This excludes threats of physical violence against an opponent.

Point of view: The race of the messengers

Many of the David stories are dramatic narratives giving center stage to the individual figures and their point of view. The narrator barely comments, and anonymous opinions—such as, in our passage, the messenger’s announcements—occupy a prominent place. This messenger functions on two levels. As an anonymous character, he may seem to be the narrator’s neutral voice. But he is only seemingly neutral; rather, the scribe uses messengers as his vehicles to comment on the proceedings.

Here, the messenger is the voice of a rational analysis. It seeks to guide David slowly toward the recognition that what has happened is the default battle outcome in a revolt. Consequently, the narrative frames Absalom’s death as an event to celebrate because it demonstrates royal strength. Absalom’s death, from the messenger’s point of view, would warn any insurrectionists that “all who rise up against you for evil be like that young man” (2 Samuel 18:32).

The messenger’s views are biased, reminding the king of the obvious need to annihilate usurpers and to establish peace. Absalom was a rebel who almost managed to permanently overthrow David’s rule. The king must celebrate his death as a demonstration that he had the power of eliminating the danger and to ensure stability of his rule.

A Black messenger: The Cushites, an ethnicity from southern Egypt

The Cushites from southern Egypt are the southernmost known ethnicity in the Bible. Among other things, their military strength (2 Chronicles 12:3) and the Cushite dynasty’s legendary rise to power (Amos 9:7) stand out. There is no general negative bias vis-à-vis the Cushites in the Bible; indeed, Jews of Egyptian origin, like Moses, could marry Cushites (Numbers 12:1; see also Jeremiah 36:14), and their complexion is acknowledged in references like Jeremiah 13:23.

The messenger scene of 2 Samuel 18 characterizes the anonymous Cushite as a fast runner. He serves as the second messenger that, after the somber warnings of a first messenger, brings the precise news that more plainly details Absalom’s death. Constructs of race in modern US society differ from perceptions of ethnicities in biblical times. The Bible associates the dark-skinned Cushites neither with slavery nor with a subaltern social or ethnic status. It might be worth pointing out differences of US racial constructs compared with biblical associations about the Cushites as members of a certain ethnicity.

The Cushites and the neglect of their presence in traditional exegesis have often been a point of reference of contemporary African American Bible studies to demonstrate the selective perception of Black people in the Bible. The Bible uses a dark-skinned messenger to inform David about his son’s death. This demonstrates the presence of people of African descent in a critical military situation. It also illustrates that they ranked among the trustworthy servants of the king’s military.

How can the presence of honorable dark-skinned persons (see also Acts 8:26–40) be important in the current public discourse? And how might the larger context of the David tradition be helpful when critically considering typical racial constructs in this day and age?