Persian legend about the Babylonian gods Marduk and Ishtar, and the rival Elamite gods Humman and Vashti
Although this does not speak directly to the heart of your argument, the Elamite etymologies you provide are almost certainly incorrect, and seems that the reference to the legend is even weaker.
Mordechai and Esther are of course theophoric, but theophoric names, including those named after the gods of the dominant culture but given by non-believers in the respective gods, are common in many cultures, ours included.
Well—for a start, I actually got the story off her, then looked it up online to confirm; before then I was unaware of the etymology of Purim.
It’s not clear to me how you could plausibly carry the theory that Haman, in the story, is a personal name, given that Haman and Vashti were paired male and female gods at least according to other sources (the name Vashti is mentioned in your cited book, but it’s not clear in what connection). Haman is a coincidence but Vashti isn’t? Either I’m missing something, or I must suspect the motives of your book’s author; that is always a hazard in this sort of thing. (Of course, so is the converse hazard of going eager-beaver on a good atheistic strike—but obviously Mordecai and Esther are Marduk and Ishtar, so it certainly wouldn’t be surprising if Haman and Vashti are rival gods; according to her, Vashti isn’t even a very Persian name.)
Of course, the validity of the point about “Haman” is not relevant to your core argument.
When I said “good discussion” in my comment, I was trying to say that using my best judgment, honed in a PhD in a closely related field, and examining the argument and the affiliations of the authors, it seems like an unbiased discussion. Good scholarship is of course neither “pro” nor “anti” Bible.
The apparent phonetic resemblances between Haman and an Elamite god are linguistically far-fetched. There is absolutely no connection between a h and a kh (written also h-with-hook-underneath). It is always easy to find coincidences if you are willing to stretch resemblances far enough. Even Jensen admits that Vashti (perhaps pronounced Washti) is unattested and that he is is emending from Mashti.
Also, note that Haman and Vashti are in no way paired in the Biblical story, and Marduk and Ishtar were not a divine couple.
After the first modern Bible scholars tried (with religious motives) to understand the Bible in its historical context, and found that much of it was non-historical and that there were connections to other Near Eastern cultures, some went overboard in their enthusiasm to “debunk” the Bible. I suspect that Jensen in 1892 was motivated by this rather than atheism.
Velikovsky is a more familiar example of this phenomenon. He was motivated by a desire to scientifically describe incidents in the Bible, but went overboard into pseudo-science.
Mordecai and Esther are simply common names coming from Marduk and Ishtar (like Maria and Jesus today).
By the way, this book about Esther has a chapter on its historicity, bringing arguments for and against, and definitely concludes against.
In writing this, I feel like I am acting out this webcomic, but hey, at least the PhD is good for something.
Although this does not speak directly to the heart of your argument, the Elamite etymologies you provide are almost certainly incorrect, and seems that the reference to the legend is even weaker.
Here is a good discussion of the point, with references.
Mordechai and Esther are of course theophoric, but theophoric names, including those named after the gods of the dominant culture but given by non-believers in the respective gods, are common in many cultures, ours included.
Well—for a start, I actually got the story off her, then looked it up online to confirm; before then I was unaware of the etymology of Purim.
It’s not clear to me how you could plausibly carry the theory that Haman, in the story, is a personal name, given that Haman and Vashti were paired male and female gods at least according to other sources (the name Vashti is mentioned in your cited book, but it’s not clear in what connection). Haman is a coincidence but Vashti isn’t? Either I’m missing something, or I must suspect the motives of your book’s author; that is always a hazard in this sort of thing. (Of course, so is the converse hazard of going eager-beaver on a good atheistic strike—but obviously Mordecai and Esther are Marduk and Ishtar, so it certainly wouldn’t be surprising if Haman and Vashti are rival gods; according to her, Vashti isn’t even a very Persian name.)
Of course, the validity of the point about “Haman” is not relevant to your core argument.
When I said “good discussion” in my comment, I was trying to say that using my best judgment, honed in a PhD in a closely related field, and examining the argument and the affiliations of the authors, it seems like an unbiased discussion. Good scholarship is of course neither “pro” nor “anti” Bible.
The apparent phonetic resemblances between Haman and an Elamite god are linguistically far-fetched. There is absolutely no connection between a h and a kh (written also h-with-hook-underneath). It is always easy to find coincidences if you are willing to stretch resemblances far enough. Even Jensen admits that Vashti (perhaps pronounced Washti) is unattested and that he is is emending from Mashti.
Also, note that Haman and Vashti are in no way paired in the Biblical story, and Marduk and Ishtar were not a divine couple.
After the first modern Bible scholars tried (with religious motives) to understand the Bible in its historical context, and found that much of it was non-historical and that there were connections to other Near Eastern cultures, some went overboard in their enthusiasm to “debunk” the Bible. I suspect that Jensen in 1892 was motivated by this rather than atheism.
Velikovsky is a more familiar example of this phenomenon. He was motivated by a desire to scientifically describe incidents in the Bible, but went overboard into pseudo-science.
Mordecai and Esther are simply common names coming from Marduk and Ishtar (like Maria and Jesus today).
By the way, this book about Esther has a chapter on its historicity, bringing arguments for and against, and definitely concludes against.
In writing this, I feel like I am acting out this webcomic, but hey, at least the PhD is good for something.
I accept your verdict.