Letter of Aristeas: The LXX Translation Universalized the Torah’s Wisdom

The Torah was translated into Greek in the Ptolemaic period. This translation goes by the name Septuagint, ostensibly because of the amount of translators involved in its production. Why was it translated? The Babylonian Talmud (ca. 6^th cent. C.E.) explains that it was commissioned by King Ptolemy himself:

^{בבלי מגילה דף ט.} מעשה בתלמי המלך שכינס שבעים ושנים זקנים, והכניסן בשבעים ושנים בתים, ולא גילה להם על מה כינסן. ונכנס אצל כל אחד ואחד ואמר להם: כתבו לי תורת משה רבכם. נתן הקדוש ברוך הוא בלב כל אחד ואחד עצה, והסכימו כולן לדעת אחת

^{b. Megillah 9a} It happened with King Ptolemy that he gathered 72 elders, and put them in 72 different rooms, and didn’t explain to them why. He entered each and every room and said to them: “Write for me the Torah of Moses your Teacher [=in Greek].” The Blessed Holy One put into the minds of each and every one wisdom, and they all ended up with the same translation.

For the Talmud, translation into Greek was not a positive development, but a necessary compromise. Moreover, the king was looking for holes in the translation by forcing each translator to work independently, so he could have the texts compared and look for discrepancies. Miraculously, all 72 translations came out identical.

This is the rabbinic version of a tale that we first encounter in the Letter of Aristeas, which purports to be an eye-witness account of a courtier named Aristeas, reporting on how the library commissioned a Greek translation of the Torah. In Aristeas, the context is the Library of Alexandria, established by the Greek king of Egypt, Ptolemy II Philadelphus in the third century B.C.E. This library was meant to include all the books in the known world,^[1] and was long held to be a key site of knowledge production and curation.^[2]

The Book of Aristeas, one of the oldest accounts of this library and its importance, is actually a pseudepigraphical composition, written by a Jew around 150 B.C.E. This date, suggested by John Bartlett (d. 2022), the Irish theologian and Bible scholar, among others, is based on Aristeas’ relationship to other literature:

• It cites the writer Hecataeus of Abdera (4^th B.C.E).
• It is clearly dependent upon the Greek translation of the Torah in several passages.
• It bears great similarities with the fragmentary work of Aristobulus (2^nd B.C.E.).^[3]

In other words, the Jewish author of the work lived over a century after the founding of the library and is writing as if the narrator had been present, to convince Jewish readers that they can be fully accepted within the cosmopolitan Hellenistic world by mastering their own texts and traditions.

The Story According to Aristeas

According to the story, Demetrius of Phalerum, Ptolemy’s librarian, convinced the king that the royal library must acquire a copy of the laws of the Jews, i.e., the Torah, in order to be complete:

^{Aristeas §9-10} Demetrius of Phalerum, the president of the king’s library, received vast sums of money, for the purpose of collecting together, as far as he possibly could, all the books in the world. By means of purchase and transcription, he carried out, to the best of his ability, the purpose of the king.

On one occasion when I (Aristeas) was present he was asked: “How many thousand books are there in the library?” And he replied: “More than two hundred thousand, O king, and I will make endeavor in the immediate future to gather together the remainder also, so that the total of five hundred thousand may be reached. I am told that the laws of the Jews are worth transcribing and deserve a place in your library.”^[4]

With a library collection ostensibly over 200,000 books—almost certainly an inflated figure—clearly Aristeas does not mean for us to imagine Demetrius running every book purchase by the king, but this Jewish author (fancifully) imagines that the Torah was just that important:

^{Aristeas §11} “What is to prevent you from doing this?” replied the king. “Everything that is necessary has been placed at your disposal.” “They need to be translated,” answered Demetrius, “for in the country of the Jews they use a peculiar alphabet (just as the Egyptians, too, have a special form of letters) and speak a peculiar dialect. They are supposed to use the Syriac tongue, but this is not the case; their language is quite different.” And the king, when he understood all the facts of the case, ordered a letter to be written to the Jewish High Priest that his purpose (which has already been described) might be accomplished.^[5]

Special plans would be necessary to ensure that the translation would be of a suitable quality that merited inclusion in the royal library at Alexandria. In addition, there was a need to ensure the library acquired good manuscripts, since local ones were apparently poorly copied, and unrepresentative of the original text:

^{Aristeas §30-31} The books of the law of the Jews (with some few others) are absent from the library. They are written in the Hebrew characters and language and have been carelessly interpreted, and do not represent the original text as I am informed by those who know; for they have never had a king’s care to protect them “It is necessary that these (books) should be made accurate for your library since the law that they contain, in as much as it is of divine origin, is full of wisdom and free from all blemish.”^[6]

Demetrius admits that he has only heard about the wisdom of the Jewish Torah but has never actually encountered the book in its obscure language. But from what he hears, it would be worthwhile to include this book in the corpus of Greek wisdom, and the king can accomplish this by having it translated.

As a result of this request, Ptolemy sends a letter to Jerusalem, along with an enormous number of gifts for Eleazar the high priest and Temple; these gifts are richly described.^[7] He asks Eleazar to send six elders from each of the tribes (for a total of 72) who were well-versed in the laws and could discuss how best to render them in the Greek language,^[8] and Eleazar does so, along with deluxe manuscripts of the Torah from Jerusalem:

^{Aristeas §176-177} When they entered with the gifts which had been sent with them and the valuable parchments, on which the law was inscribed in gold in Jewish characters, for the parchment was wonderfully prepared and the connection between the pages had been so effected as to be invisible, the king as soon as he saw them began to ask them about the books. And when they had taken the rolls out of their coverings and unfolded the pages, the king stood still for a long time and then making obeisance about seven times, he said: “Thank you, my friends, and (I thank) him that sent you still more, and most of all God, whose oracles these are.”^[9]

With the arrival of the elders and the manuscripts the translation project could begin. After seven days of feasting with the king and three additional days of activities, the translators are brought to the island where the Pharos lighthouse, a wonder of the ancient world, stands. There, the translators go to work on translations of the Torah, after which they compare their results:

^{Aristeas §302} So they set to work comparing their several results and making them agree, and whatever they agreed upon was suitably copied out under the direction of Demetrius.^[10]

After a suspiciously appropriate 72 days of working on the project, the 72 translators finish their task. Demetrius, the librarian, then assembles Alexandria’s sizable Jewish population and reads out the translation to them to unanimous acclaim. It is deemed so perfect as to demand special protection over the contents:

^{Aristeas §310} After the books had been read, the priests and the elders of the translators and the Jewish community and the leaders of the people stood up and said, that since so excellent and sacred and accurate a translation had been made, it was only right that it should remain as it was and no alteration should be made in it.^[11]

This remarkable step echoes similar statements made in Deuteronomy:

^{דברים ד:ב} לֹא תֹסִפוּ עַל הַדָּבָר אֲשֶׁר אָנֹכִי מְצַוֶּה אֶתְכֶם וְלֹא תִגְרְעוּ מִמֶּנּוּ לִשְׁמֹר אֶת מִצְוֺת יְ־הוָה אֱלֹהֵיכֶם אֲשֶׁר אָנֹכִי מְצַוֶּה אֶתְכֶם.

^{Deut 4:2} You shall not add anything to what I command you or take anything away from it, but keep the commandments of YHWH your God that I enjoin upon you.

^{דברים יג:א} אֵת כָּל הַדָּבָר אֲשֶׁר אָנֹכִי מְצַוֶּה אֶתְכֶם אֹתוֹ תִשְׁמְרוּ לַעֲשׂוֹת לֹא תֹסֵף עָלָיו וְלֹא תִגְרַע מִמֶּנּוּ.

^{Deut 13:1} Be careful to observe only that which I enjoin upon you: neither add to it nor take away from it.

Indeed, the text further betrays its dependence on Deuteronomy when it continues by paraphrasing and elaborating on Deuteronomy 27:25 אָרוּר אֲשֶׁר לֹא יָקִים אֶת דִּבְרֵי הַתּוֹרָה הַזֹּאת לַעֲשׂוֹת אוֹתָם “Cursed be he who will not uphold the terms of this torah and observe them”:

^{Aristeas §311} And when the whole company expressed their approval, they bid them pronounce a curse in accordance with their custom upon anyone who should make any alteration either by adding anything or changing in any way whatever any of the words that had been written or making any omission. This was a very wise precaution to ensure that the book might be preserved for all the future time unchanged.^[12]

In pronouncing a curse on anyone who would make changes to the text, the Jewish community of Alexandria affirms the translation’s canonical status as the equivalent of the (Hebrew) Torah.^[13] Thus, the translation that begins as the brainchild of the Greek-speaking court of Alexandria is such a success that it is fully endorsed by the Jewish community itself.

After it has been read to the Jewish community, the translation of the Torah is also read to the king. The results so please him that he gave orders to have them specially protected:

^{Aristeas §317} And after the king, as I have already said, had received the explanation from Demetrius on this point, he did homage and ordered that great care should be taken of the books, and that they should be sacredly guarded.^[14]

The translation of the Torah into Greek wins universal praise from all parties involved and demands their admiration and reverence. Or, at least this is how the story goes in the Letter of Aristeas, the earliest and longest extant version of a pervasive myth about the Greek translation of the Jewish laws that circulated in the ancient world.^[15]

But Is It Historical?

Examining the details of this story, scholars have long pointed to some grave factual errors in a number of the story’s details—including such basic information as the identity of the librarian and the composition of the Alexandrian royal court—that suggest it is not a reliable historical account of the translation but a fictional reimagining of the translation’s origins.^[16] Nevertheless, interesting and important historical insights emerge from even a mythical story like this, such as:

• Translation played an important role in the Jewish community during the time the book was composed, and likely throughout the period the text was transmitted.^[17]
• Hellenistic Jews considered their knowledge and culture to be valuable parts of the broader Hellenistic world.^[18]
• The Septuagint was partly responsible for turning an unknown work, the Torah, into one accessible to all Greek speakers, the main language of the region.

A Particular Torah but Universal Knowledge

Because the high priest and translators reside in a distant land, speak an incomprehensible mother tongue, and have customs foreign to the Alexandrian courtier, one might imagine them as peculiar entities, notably different from their Alexandrian counterparts. Yet, the Letter presents the translators as familiarly Hellenistic in many respects, men with an excellent education, including thorough knowledge of both Jewish and Greek literature:

^{Aristeas §121} …The High priest selected men of the finest character and the highest culture, such as one would expect from their noble parentage. They were men who had not only acquired proficiency in Jewish literature, but had studied most carefully that of the Greeks as well.^[19]

This description thereby renders them as figures who move easily in both the particular world of the Jews, and the wider world of the Hellenistic cultural environment. The point is further emphasized by the additional note that they served on diplomatic missions, wherein they would obviously interact with foreigners, but at the same time, they are able to discuss the Torah ostensibly with great mastery:

^{Aristeas §122} They were specially qualified therefore for serving on embassies and they undertook this duty whenever it was necessary. They possessed a great facility for conferences and the discussion of problems connected with the law.

They espoused the middle course — and this is always the best course to pursue.^[20] They abjured the rough and uncouth manner, but they were altogether above pride and never assumed an air of superiority over others, and in conversation they were ready to listen and give an appropriate answer to every question.^[21]

The depiction shows the translator to be ideal for carrying out the project. But, more subtly, they are set up as paradigms for what the project itself will accomplish: They are idealized representatives of specific Jewish knowledge, but simultaneously able to contribute to the universalized knowledge of the Library of Alexandria.

This remarkable quality is put on full display when Ptolemy hosts them for a series of banquets upon their arrival in Alexandria. In addition to accommodating their specific dietary needs in the royal court, the king decides to pose questions to each one of the translators in turn—but both Ptolemy’s question and the response of the translator are universal in nature:

^{Aristeas §187} Taking an opportunity afforded by a pause in the banquet the king asked the envoy who sat in the seat of honor (for they were arranged according to seniority), How he could keep his kingdom unimpaired to the end?^[22]

^§188 After pondering for a moment he replied: “You could best establish its security if you were to imitate the unceasing benignity of God. For if you exhibit clemency and inflict mild punishments upon those who deserve them in accordance with their deserts, you will turn them from evil and lead them to repentance.”^[23]

The king does not inquire about a specific topic found within the Jewish laws, and the translator makes no reference to these laws as he gives his answer. His response instead displays a sort of universalized piety at home both in Jerusalem and Alexandria.

The same holds true for all the questions and responses to each of the 72 translators. While they are apparent experts in the Jewish laws, and the author feels no need to demonstrate this, their performance in the symposium shows that they are exceptionally gifted in the universalized context of the Ptolemaic court. This results in the king praising the entire party of translators once the last one has responded to one of his questions:

^{Aristeas §293} And when he ceased, loud and joyful applause broke out for some considerable time. When it stopped the king took a cup and gave a toast in honor of all his guests and the words that they had uttered. Then in conclusion he said: “I have derived the greatest benefit from your presence. ^§294 I have profited much by the wise teaching which you have given me in reference to the art of ruling.” Then he ordered that three talents of silver should be presented to each of them, and appointed one of his slaves to deliver over the money.^[24]

Yet again, the character of the wisdom is on the general topic of ruling, and never makes reference to Jewish laws in the answer. Aristeas’ depiction of the translators thus underscores that the specific knowledge of the Jews is valuable even in the most universalized corners of the Ptolemaic royal court.

The success of the translators in making the transition from the specific to the universal foreshadows the comparable transition of the laws from the Hebrew to Greek which, as we have already seen, is met with universal praise and reverence, not only from Ptolemy and the Greeks, but from the Alexandrian Jewish community. Indeed, in Aristeas’ view, the Torah’s translation into Greek, commissioned by the (pagan) king and included in the (pagan) library does not diminish the book’s sacredness. Instead, the project allows for more people to become aware of the divine wisdom in the laws; this, at least, is the message the author of Aristeas wishes to convey.

The previously inaccessible laws become accessible to all through the work of the remarkable translators and the literal gatekeeper of the library of Alexandra, with all its universal symbolism. What is more, the way the translators are shown to work—comparing texts that have been produced and come to a consensus about the proper reading—is reminiscent of the textual scholarship that the scholars of the library were famous for in antiquity.^[25]

This hybrid team of Jewish and Greek scholars using Greek text critical methods is the instrument by which the Jewish laws become universal. The process brings about a new universal text from its specific Jewish origins.

The Translators as Model Jewish Citizens of the Hellenistic World

As Ptolemy sends the translators back home, he offers various ways in which they might return to Alexandria, its library, and the court, thereby expanding the universal knowledge projected by the king:

^{Aristeas §318} And he urged the translators to visit him frequently after their return to Judea, for it was only right, he said, that he should now send them home. But when they came back, he would treat them as friends, as was right, and they would receive rich presents from him.^[26]

This concern for sending the translator home picks up on an earlier concern voiced by Eleazar the high priest that Ptolemy might try to keep the translators there. Aristeas here may be hinting to a tradition that existed in the Greek world about Ptolemy’s aggressive methods in acquiring what he wanted for the library.

For instance, the Roman physician Galen (129–216 C.E.) shares an anecdote about how even luxurious copies of the manuscripts of the Athenian playwrights were not good enough for Ptolemy, and he tricks the Athenians and even pays a fortune to keep the originals:

^{Galen, Commentary 2.4, Hippocrates Epidemiai} That Ptolemy was so eager about the possession of all ancient books, he says that what he plotted against the Athenians bears no little evidence: he gave them a security of 15 talents of silver and took the books of Sophocles, Euripides, and Aeschylus, on the pretext that he only wished to copy them, and would immediately give them back safe.

After preparing a costly copy on the very finest papyrus, he kept the books that he received from Athens and sent back the copies that he himself had prepared, inviting them to take back the 15 talents and take the new books for the old ones they gave him. (17.1.607-8)^[27]

Through this act, the king not only took possession of Athens’ prized books but also claimed ownership over its legacy as arbiter of a universal Hellenic culture. In Aristeas, we see a similar attempt to connect the Ptolemies to the Torah, and concern over this may be what stands behind Eleazer’s concern that the king allow the translators to return home. The king proves to be trustworthy, but also makes it clear that he wants to treat these Jewish translators as scholars of his library and court, and is willing to pay handsomely for it:

^{Aristeas §321} He wrote, urging him also, that if any of the men preferred to come back to him, not to hinder them. For he counted it a great privilege to enjoy the society of such learned men, and he would rather lavish his wealth upon them than upon vanities.^[28]

Ptolemy does this because of the great education and wisdom the translators put on display both in the symposium and in the translation that they produced. These men are living examples of the ability of Jews within the Ptolemaic sphere of influence to use their specific knowledge and customs as a means to achieve the highest prestige at the universalized court of the king.

Gregory Nagy, Professor of Classics at Harvard University, points to how the Greek geographer Strabo (1^st cent. B.C.E.) links the library and the Museum (the temple of the Muses), the Museum and the palace, and the Museum and the royal tombs, especially that of Alexander the Great, arguing that this chain renders the corpus of the library an extension of the royal body of the king.^[29] Through these links, the library is endowed with the sacred protection of the Muses, the royal power of the current king, and finally the universal power and wealth represented by Alexander.^[30]

The collection itself, therefore, not only borrows their status, but lends that standing to the works that comprise its collection. Once a book is included in the Library of Alexandria it becomes a possession of the temple, the king’s household, and indeed the Hellenistic royal line. This possession, Nagy argues, leads to the idea that the library and its contents become extensions of the king’s body, and thus a representation of his encyclopedic knowledge. All books that come into the king’s possession must be unrivaled in power and prestige.^[31]

Through the status offered by the Library of Alexandria and their connection to the person of the king, the Torah’s translators and their knowledge serve as models for success in the Hellenistic world. The myth shows that Jews do not need to abandon their identity in order to succeed. Instead, that identity must only be translated to a new cultural milieu.