Alexander the Great changed the face of Judea along with the rest of the then-known world. He reigned as emperor from 356 to 323. BCE In 336 BCE he became king of Macedonia and of the Greek city-states conquered by his father, Philip II. Within a decade he defeated the Persians and fell heir to their empire.
Early in that decade, in 332 BCE, he conquered Judea, a conquest that was to have profound and far-reaching effects on Jewish history. Conquest itself was nothing new to the Jews; Judea had been subjugated on numerous occasions. This time the conqueror came from the West, rather than the East (as had Assyria, Babylonia and Persia). Two factors made Alexander’s conquest indeed historic: The first is cultural; the second, geographic. The Greeks were interested not only in military victories, political expansion and economic gain; they were also committed to disseminating their way of life—their institutions, norms and ideas—to the world of the barbarians (as they called non-Greeks). In addition to political hegemony and imposition of taxes, Greek conquest exposed the eastern Mediterranean lands and beyond to an entirely different way of life—Hellenism.
Perhaps the most effective means by which Hellenism was propagated in new regions was by founding a Greek city, or by reconstituting an already existing city as a polis. Either step carried with it political, religious, social and cultural ramifications. The polis operated politically under a Greek constitution, a Greek deities were introduced into the city’s pantheon, and Greek educational and entertainment institutions were established. Within a century of Alexander’s conquest of Judea, Greek cities were founded along the Mediterranean coast, as well as inland at Beth-Shean and Samaria, and to the East in Transjordan. These cities served as centers of Greek life and influence and reinforced one another through joint commercial, cultural and athletic enterprises.

Assessing the Jewish Reaction to Hellenism
It is difficult to assess how Jewish society as a whole responded to this new reality. Did the isolated geographical circumstances of Jews (who lived primarily in the more remote hill country of Judea), combined with ethnic and religious differences, create a buffer between them and the outside world? Or were Jews affected by these changes in the same ways as were their pagan counterparts in the coastal cities, albeit at a somewhat slower pace? Unfortunately, our sources cannot answer these questions adequately. The bits and pieces that have been preserved offer but an inkling of the many and varied Jewish responses to the challenges of the new age. Generally speaking, the divisions in Jewish society deepened as a result of Hellenistic domination, the polarization of political allegiances into factions favoring the north (Seleucids) and south (Ptolemies), the exacerbation of economic and social divergences, and challenges to traditional religious beliefs and practices.
However, the degree of Hellenization among Jews during the Hellenistic period (from Alexander’s conquest to the establishment of the Hasmonean monarchy in 141 BCE) remains unclear. Leading scholars have staked out maximalist and minimalist positions; some view the impact of Hellenism as having been profound , others see it as having been more negligible and superficial . Both positions contain some truth, and the reality was undoubtedly much more complex than either extreme would suggest. Much depends on whom we are referring to (an urban aristocrat or village farmer), the specific time period involved (the fourth or second century BCE) and the particular areas of society under scrutiny (material culture, religious beliefs or social institutions). Much of the Jewish literature written or edited during the early Hellenistic period grapples with ideas from the outside world. The biblical Book of Ecclesiastes (Qohelet) remains the most explicit and detailed statement that we possess of the disturbing impact of this new environment on a Jew’s religious and intellectual commitment. Faith and certainty had been lost, and in their stead came doubt, hesitancy and skepticism. At the turn of the second century, Ben Sira composed a response to this type of thinking, called in Latin Ecclesiasticus (the little Ecclesiastes), which emphasizes loyalty to traditional values, ideas and institutions. The Book of Jubilees at times seems to deliver a polemic in support of such basic commandments as circumcision (Jubilees 15:23–34) and the Sabbath (Jubilees 2:17–33), perhaps in response to a certain laxity in their observance resulting from exposure to the outside world. Finally, the erotic love song that came to be called the Song of Songs was probably edited about this time and reflects themes well attested in Hellenistic poetry. The apocalyptic literature that originated in this period (for example, the early portions of Enoch) exhibits further indications of outside influences.
This literary genre is characterized among other things by descriptions of heavenly journeys, angelic revelations of cosmic secrets to man, visions of the end of days, and the final judgment to be meted out by God on the world. The second half of Daniel (7–12), written in 165 BCE, is the best-known example of this type of literature. Nonetheless, scholars are divided as to the source of this apocalyptic literature and worldview. Are these compositions the direct result of earlier prophetic literature from biblical times that underwent a series of transformations between the fifth and third centuries? Or are they the result of new developments in Jewish society relating to exposure to Hellenistic apocalyptic literature and thought? While certitude in this matter is elusive, the parallels with the non-Jewish world are significant enough to warrant some sort of connection with contemporary phenomena.
In this regard, mention should be made of the Letter of Aristeas, which tells of the translation of the Torah into Greek under the auspices of Ptolemy II Philadelphus (285–246 BCE). The translation was reportedly carried out by 72 sages, each knowledgeable in the Torah and well versed in Greek, who were brought from Jerusalem to Alexandria for this express purpose. (This tradition accounts for the common name of the translation: the Septuagint, from the Latin for “seventy.”) If there is any truth in this tradition, it would testify to the penetration of Greek thinking into scholarly Jerusalem circles by the third or, at the very latest, second century BCE, when this translation was purportedly made.
How much these intellectual and religious currents affected Jewish society at large is hard to estimate; the limited evidence offers conflicting signals. On the one hand, after the Seleucid ruler Antiochus III conquered Jerusalem (about 200 BCE), he granted privileges to the Jews of the city that appear to confirm the traditional status and leadership of the city. The elders, high priest, priests and other Temple personnel were recognized as the leaders of the community and were accorded due privileges. The concerns expressed in Antiochus’s edict focus on the Temple, the cult, religious precepts and the welfare of the city, and such issues undoubtedly stood at the forefront of Jerusalem affairs for decades, if not centuries.
On the other hand, this almost idyllic picture becomes clouded when viewed from other perspectives. The Jewish historian Josephus, for example, records a chronicle of the Tobiad family, who represented Jewish interests to the Ptolemaic court in Alexandria and who played a major role in internal Judean affairs as well. The Tobiads underwent a significant degree of acculturation during this period, adopting Greek names, mannerisms and lifestyles.

A second example of a more complex situation is preserved in 2 Maccabees. The Seleucid kings were often in desperate need of money to pay their annual tribute to Rome. In 175 BCE, Jason, a Jerusalemite of priestly lineage, offered the newly enthroned Seleucid monarch Antiochus IV (Epiphanes) a sum of money to appoint him as high priest in the Jerusalem Temple. Jason then added an additional amount for the right to convert Jerusalem into a Greek polis. This probably meant that Jerusalem’s inhabitants would be registered as citizens of a polis, that the city would be restructured politically, that social institutions would be reorganized in the spirit of a Greek city, and that a gymnasium and ephebiumc would be established.
There is no question that this was an extremely bold step. Yet it is not clear to what degree Hellenization had penetrated Jewish society at that time. Phrased differently, did Jason have the backing, either active or passive, of a large segment of the population, or was this program of Hellenization only a superficial mimicry of Greek mannerisms by a small elite of Jerusalem society? Was this a sudden and dramatic step with little forethought or planning, or was it the culmination of a long process? These fundamental questions cannot be answered with any certainty.
Nevertheless it is abundantly clear that by 175 BCE many leading Jerusalemites, especially priests, were committed to a high degree of acculturation. Although we do not know the immediate reaction to Jason’s initiative, during the years that followed Jewish society was rocked by a series of events that shook it to its very foundations.
