From Hebron to Jerusalem: How a Small Highland Polity Became a Mythic Kingdom

Today’s narratives around ancient Israel often conjure visions of a mighty biblical kingdom — unified, wealthy, and powerful — that stretches from the Nile to the Euphrates. But the archaeological record paints a starkly different picture: a small, decentralized, and short-lived polity in the central highlands of Canaan. The gap between history and mythology is not accidental. It is a legacy of centuries of narrative construction, later magnified in modern nationalist ideologies — particularly Zionism — to justify contemporary political claims.

A Landscape of Farms, Not Kingdoms

During the early Iron Age (circa 1200–900 BCE), the central mountain range of Canaan — from Hebron in the south through Jerusalem to the hills of Samaria — was dotted with small, autonomous settlements. These communities were largely self-sufficient, practicing terraced farming and herding in a harsh, defensible environment.

The Southern Highlands, including Hebron and Bethlehem, eventually coalesced into what would be called Judah. The Central Highlands, encompassing Shechem, Shiloh, and Bethel, hosted tribal groups that would later be associated with “Israel.”

Jerusalem: Not a Capital, But a Village

The Jerusalem of David and Solomon, often imagined as a capital to rival Thebes or Babylon, was at most a 10-hectare hilltop town with minimal urban infrastructure. No monumental architecture or administrative archives from this period have been found. Its role was likely symbolic: a neutral zone between tribes, not the center of a vast dominion.

There is no evidence of large cities, monumental architecture, or central administration in this period. Jerusalem, often presented as the capital of a grand united monarchy, was likely a fortified village — no more than 10 hectares in size, with a population of perhaps 1,500.

The Short Life of a “Kingdom”

Archaeological data offers scant support for a unified Israelite kingdom as described in later religious texts. At best, a brief territorial alliance under a southern leader may have existed around 1000 BCE — a fragile coalition between Judah and parts of the north. But this confederation quickly dissolved, and by the 9th century BCE, the region was divided into two small, competing polities: Israel in the north and Judah in the south.

Even at their height, these were minor states. Israel fell to Assyria in 722 BCE. Judah, more insulated in its rugged hills, lasted until the Babylonians razed Jerusalem in 586 BCE. Neither kingdom exerted sustained control beyond a small regional footprint.

What the Archaeology Says

Hard data undermines the myth:

• No evidence of large-scale architecture, roads, or written bureaucracy from this era.
• Settlements were small, rural, and highly localized.
• Northern and southern regions show divergent material cultures — pottery styles, architecture, and settlement patterns — suggesting political fragmentation, not unification.

The highland polities were defensive, subsistence-based, and regionally constrained. They lacked the infrastructure of statehood typical of regional empires.

Inflating the Past: A Political Project

The myth of a grand, united monarchy gained traction centuries after its supposed existence — particularly during the Babylonian exile and post-exilic periods, when scribes and elites sought to construct a national origin story. These narratives, later codified in religious texts, served a political and theological purpose: to imagine a glorious past that justified present claims and future hopes.

Fast forward to the 19th and 20th centuries, when Zionist thinkers and leaders, seeking historical legitimacy for a Jewish homeland, drew heavily on these ancient narratives. The biblical image of a sovereign Jewish kingdom centered in Jerusalem was reinterpreted as a precedent for modern statehood — reinforcing territorial claims and cultural continuity.

This conflation of theological myth with political strategy has had lasting consequences. In public discourse, media, and even school curricula, ancient Israel is often presented as a historical fact on par with Rome or Egypt. Yet this portrayal collapses under the weight of critical archaeology and historiography.

Deconstructing the Narrative

Modern scholarship reveals a disconnect between the ideological grandeur of ancient Israel and its historical modesty. The region’s topography — steep, rocky, and agriculturally limited — shaped a society that was resilient but not expansive. There were no vast armies, no imperial conquests, no palatial capitals. What existed were villages and hilltop fortresses, engaged in local survival, not statecraft.

By re-centering the narrative around material evidence and regional dynamics, we can understand the ancient highlands not as the seat of a biblical empire, but as a cluster of adaptive communities whose memory was later monumentalized for political ends.

Why It Matters Today

Revisiting the scale and nature of early Israel isn’t just an academic exercise — it’s a political act. The instrumentalization of mythic history has justified colonization, displacement, and nationalist policies. Acknowledging the modest, contingent origins of ancient Israel helps expose how history can be weaponized, and how narratives of divine entitlement obscure the lived realities of both ancient and modern peoples.

The truth — that ancient Israel was small, fractured, and largely forgotten until reimagined centuries later — challenges foundational assumptions. It calls for a reckoning with how identity, power, and memory are constructed, and whose interests they serve.