I have suggested several times now that the rise of David to the highest office in the kingdom of Judah as it is depicted is nothing short of a popular revolution. Because the text had to deal with the oral history of its culture as well as the creation of a compelling narrative, this revolution couldn't be portrayed as an out-and-out civil war. David could not kill Saul and remain the hero. With Saul's death at Mt. Gilboa at the end of First Samuel, that problem has been taken care of. What remains for the story is the struggle for power that follows.

At the beginning of the second book of Samuel, David learns of the death of Saul and his sons from a wandering Amalekite. This introductory scene can be a confusing read because the wanderer's story doesn't entirely mesh with Saul's actual death scene. As the Amalekite tells it, Saul asked the wanderer to kill him because he knew he was losing the battle, though we know the true story is that Saul fell on his own sword. Why are the two versions of the story so different?

The first thing to consider about the Amalekite's story is that he took Saul's crown and bracelet as proof. Without mincing words, the wanderer robbed Saul's corpse and is now trying to parlay his recent windfall into favor with a military leader who has a history of bad blood with the dead king. These first two chapters of Second Samuel are full of oblique references to the way Israelites viewed their geographic neighbors and frequent enemies. Like the wandering Amalekite, they are seen as uncivilized, opportunistic raiders. David's justification for ordering the wanderer executed is that the Amalekite claimed to have killed a divinely anointed person. The truth is that even though the wanderer wasn't guilty of murder, he still committed a capital offense. In other words, six in one, a half dozen in the other.

It should also seem strange that the Philistines didn't take over Judah after defeating Saul. It's important to remember what kind of culture the Philistines had. They were not builders of an empire as the Egyptians and Babylonians were. Rather, they were mobile raiders. Throughout the Mediterranean, such cultures assaulted sedentary civilizations for resources, though they never had any intention of establishing their own hegemony. It was enough for the king of Gath to defeat the Judean king and ransack his cities.

What remains in Judah is a severely destabilized nation. In the power vacuum, two competing leaders rise. David, based out of Hebron, has popular support for the crown. However, Saul's military adviser Avner is sitting as a de facto commander-in-chief behind Saul's child Ish-Boshet. Ish was not old enough to go into battle where Saul and his other sons died, so what we really have is Avner acting as a political puppeteer. Neither Avner's nor Ish-Boshet's claim to the throne is valid, even if one doesn't consider the word of God.

What results from this contest is a bloody war of ascension. Avner is clearly outclassed in battle and it's only a matter of time before David claims the entire country. It is in passages like these that the books of Samuel become much more political than spiritual. It is both disturbing and familiar to see this development. It's also ironic, considering that this story is all about how political power corrupts good things. Within the text itself, political ambitions distract from moral concerns. However exciting the battle and intrigue of these chapters may be, there is a distinct queasiness in the way they abandon ethical authority.