(This is from my comment (below) regarding the third (astronomically-themed (?) inscription):
Finally, cNT-NR might not be taken as a reference to Anat, but rather perhaps as 'furrow' as in Ugaritic - with recognition that this dialect is not, strictly, formalized Aramaic.
Then the entire translation of III would read:
“He is Nasi-Salmu (My Hawk is Salmu), the Chief of Saran; the Raiser(?)-of-Fire
Has softened the Furrows-of-Fire; the Hook-of-Fire has been hardened
By the Light.”)
This is a relatively short paper hopefully for submission to BASOR on the tiny Deir Alla corpus of three inscribed clay seals, two of which are dotted. It is unfinished as can be seen in my use of XXX instead of citations in a few cases.
Finally, cNT-NR might not be taken as a reference to Anat, but rather perhaps as 'furrow' as in Ugaritic - with recognition that this dialect is not, strictly, formalized Aramaic.
Then the entire translation of III would read:
“He is Nasi-Salmu (My Hawk is Salmu), the Chief of Saran; the Raiser(?)-of-Fire
Has softened the Furrows-of-Fire; the Hook-of-Fire has been hardened
By the Light.”)
This is a relatively short paper hopefully for submission to BASOR on the tiny Deir Alla corpus of three inscribed clay seals, two of which are dotted. It is unfinished as can be seen in my use of XXX instead of citations in a few cases.
Hatarūnī, a Dialect of Northwest Semitic:
New Readings and Translations of Inscribed Alphabetic Clay Seals from Deir cAlla
New Readings and Translations of Inscribed Alphabetic Clay Seals from Deir cAlla
This is a new proposal to read three inscribed
clay tablets from Deir cAlla dating from before 1200 BC. They occur as several generations of abjadic writing,
known so far only in these three inscriptions.
There are essentially two substrate script trends, both of which are
relatively unique. The earlier is distantly
related to late Proto-Sinaitic, but also offers clues to the origination of the
later North Arabian scripts. The later
exhibits paleographic features suggesting increased contact of
Proto-Canaanite. Of particular interest
are likely recordings of a solar eclipse, and the expansion of the range of
attested Northwest Semitic dialects.
//
This
is a new proposal to read three inscribed clay tablets from Deir cAlla
(Deir Alla) as Northwest Semitic inscriptions, distinctly influenced by
Northeast Semitic. The later relatives
of this script are attested, at present, only much later beginning in the late
2nd millennium BC at the earliest, but really in the late centuries
BC and early centuries AD.[1] Moreover the languages of those later scripts
are not closely related to the languages of the Deir Alla inscriptions.
Thus
these inscriptions may evidence a much earlier incubating paleographic trend,
not currently well-known, that impacted the development of later North Arabian
scripts. The texts expand the attested
range of Northwest Semitic. The name ‘Hatarūn’
occurs apparently in reference to the probable intended recipient of Document I,
and thus the gentillic adjective would be Hatarūnī – possibly representing the
name of the people related to these texts.
The
only other attempt to decipher these inscriptions was conducted by Dr. William
Shea.[2] While at the time the attempt was reasonable,
in light of new evidence and a broader re-interpretation of the early
alphabetic evolution, the paleographic assessment is inappropriate. As a result, the epigraphic analysis is also
no longer tenable. The paleography of
the Deir Alla scripts relates more closely to North Arabian, even if epigraphic
concerns veer off in a different direction.
The decipherment provided here – while philologically unusual – offers
insight into two (probably progressive) marginal dialects of Northwest Semitic,
with archaic features and Northeast Semitic influence.
The
paleographic re-identifications here involve a much larger project to classify
and decipher the entire early alphabetic corpuses.[3] While the exact placement of the Deir Alla
scripts within the early alphabetic dialect spectrum is debatable; they are connected
to a complex evolutionary spectrum of the early alphabet – stretching from at
least 1800 to probably 1200 BC, after which most variant corpuses were subsumed
essentially by the more formal Proto-Canaanite, and North and South Arabian
corpuses.
While
Shea’s analysis of these tablets may seem logical out of this very broad context,
the differentiation in the orientation of T and Ḫ in I strongly
suggests a tendency toward North Arabian paleography. Moreover, the repetition of a word [rs1;
Shea’s mk], and the quite unmistakable presence of the grapheme S1
necessitates the consideration of this small corpus as paleographically Syro-Arabian;
Proto-Canaanite never possessed it. While
it appears infrequently in Proto-Sinaitic, and in Wadi el-Hol, it primarily
occurs in in North and South Arabian –in Ugaritic shibbolethed from š to
s.[4]
Substantial
evidence in the broader study of early alphabets suggests a missing genetic
link, which precedes Proto-Canaanite and even possibly early Proto-Sinaitic,
between the Wadi el-Hol inscriptions and the later Arabian scripts. Deir Alla I & II appear to
form a fringe trend derived from that missing link. But while they probably represent a
derivation from a common ancestor of some North Arabian scripts, the early Deir
Alla script are not that ancestor but is rather a fringe descendant. Paleographic developments in III,
likely the latest Deir Alla generation, again suggest this people’s writing
system was subsumed in the formalization of Proto-Canaanite even before the
destruction of their palace by an earthquake shortly after 1200 BC.[5]
A Variant Abjad Subsumed
The
texts will be treated first with respect to their consonantal nature. The unusual nature of the odd dots[6] in
I and II will be examined in the following section, in which
translations of these two texts will also be offered. Because III does not obviously possess
the dots of the other two, it will be translated in this section.
I:[7] MKR / RS1 / HTRN / HBR / RS1
/ LḪM
The context of this inscription is fairly clear. The second name, LḪM, is almost certainly related to byt lḫm or Bethlehem. But it suggests that the etymology of Bethlehem may indeed be from the deity Lakhmu, as early accepted by Albright.[8] The name HTRN might be connected with the root ytr, related to “Aram /yatr/ rope; bowstring; Syr /ytr/ remain, be left over; be better, go ahead, increase, overhang, profit… Amor /ytr/, /wtr/ be more, abundant, excellent; … Arab… be stretched”.[9] Despite Murtonen’s Akkadian association, the above can be connected with Akkadian itartu “additional pack (of a donkey load); OA” [10] pertaining to atāru (watāru) “to exceed”.[11]
But
HTRN, probably a name, may be a C-stem.[12] Moreover, the plural found probably precludes
its (non-Aramaic) Northwest Semitic origin, thus relating it to either Syriac ‘helpers’
or ‘those who have profited’,[13] or
Arabic ‘stringers (of the bow)’.[14] MKR should also be treated as a noun, either
a name, or ‘merchant,’ as with “Phoen /mkr/ sell; seller, dealer, merchant;
Ug /mkr/ merchant; Aram /mkr/ buy; promise (one’s daughter)
in marriage… Syr /mkr/ buy; (be) betroth(ed)”,[15]
and with Akkadian makkāru[16]
and mākiru[17]
both “trader.”
The
remaining word HBR is unusual, but within the context of an apparently
Akkadian-inspired name Laḫmu, this word can be compared (phonetically) with Akkadian
ibru “(ebru) a.; person of the same status or profession,
comrade, fellow, colleague, friend; from OA, OB on”.[18] There is little evidence for West Semitic confusion
between H and Ḥ, so the orthography here may in fact reflect an Akkadian phonetic
realization. If the scribe were East
Semitic, they may have been unsuccessfully attempting to approximate the West
Semitic sound (i.e., H/Ḥ ~ Akk i/e). Unfortunately the lack of an attested
differentiated Ḥ in these inscriptions makes speculation difficult.
For rs1,
present in each inscription, one can compare r’aš ‘head, chief’.[19] But an explanation will be provided for the
aberrant orthography at the end of this paper.
The reason for holding off on explanation is the connection (in I
and II) of the dots and r’s, which corroborates the
interpretation of rs1 but must be explained in the broader
context of the unique system of marking matres lectionis. The ubiquity of the phrase in all three
inscriptions makes its interpretation relatively uncontroversial even without
the phonetic explanation for the contraction of the vowel.
This
text is a boustrophedon. The word WṢY can
be related to Akkadian aṣû (waṣû, waṣā’û, uṣā’û, uṣu)
“to leave, to depart”,[22]
and the orthography in II also pertains to Ugaritic and Amorite.[23] Here WṢY is apparently a noun, indicated by
the locative –h, which is essentially a NW Semitic feature.[24] The following word NH is common, meaning ‘sigh,
shout’[25] and
in Arabic really ‘mourn’.[26] As in I, there may be Akkadian
influence, which phonetically renders the verb na’û (nu’û) “to
shout”.[27] One could also see this as a Canaanite
orthography, however.[28] The G in this case, if correct, is one of
only two known examples of this variant grapheme.[29] Then (k-) pg might be compared
with Akkadian pagû “a stringed instrument”,[30]
or pigû of similar meaning.[31]
The
next line is substantially clearer. The
second use of the locative –h in DH parallels this usage in the first
line.[32] The following NḪ reflects a noun form of ‘rest’
stemming from a fairly common root.[33] The apparent recipient of the dedication, ḪBR,
has an interesting name.
III:[34]
HW NṢ
/ ṢLM / RS1-S3RN / ’NS2-NR
RKK / cNT-NR
/ cRN / WW-NR
B[']WR
“He is the Dark Hawk, the Chief of Śaran; the Compeller-of-Fire
Has softened Anat-of-Fire; the Hook-of-Fire has been hardened
By the Light.”“He is the Dark Hawk, the Chief of Śaran; the Compeller-of-Fire
Has softened Anat-of-Fire; the Hook-of-Fire has been hardened
This
inscription is interesting for two reasons: it is essentially undamaged; and it
appears to be an early recording of a solar eclipse and the first historical
recording of Baily’s Beads – dots of light that appear and disappear along the
side of the solar disc during a solar eclipse.
It is also not as obviously inflected as the previous two, and may exhibit
dialect shift – toward a dialect closer to Syriac – but with archaic features. The name Śaran is not clear – it could refer
to the Plains of Sharon, but ‘(bn) s\rn’[35] is a name attested in
Ugaritic. The word NṢ refers to a bird of prey, in
Syriac apparently “hawk”.[36] Conversely, ṢLM is almost certainly a
borrowing from Akkadian ṣalmu, meaning ‘dark,’[37]
also noting that ṣallamtu is the name of a bird.[38] The
word ’ns can be compared in Syriac with “to press, compel… to force”.[39] If any of these epithets hide a name for the ‘Chief
of Śaran,’ that name is not immediately obvious – unless perhaps nṣ ṣlm.
The
next line evidences clear juxtaposition that supports a Syro-Arabian interpretation.
The verb RKK, is masculine and thus must
take the following feminine noun as an object.
A D-stem in Syriac would mean “to soften, mollify; to make tender,
gentle”.[40] In contrast, cRN occurs
only in Gt-stem form in Syriac as “to become hard”.[41] However, the Arabic noun caran
primarily means “a bony outgrowth, exotosis (med.)”.[42] Though only in noun form, it argues for the theoretical
existence of a G-stem at some point. Moreover,
the c grapheme[43]
in crn is oriented differently than the c
in cnt, suggesting differentiation of matres lectionis. Since can(a)t likely has a historically
stable vowel pattern, crn reflects cirn or curn. As parallel grammar suggests crn
is a perfective verb, the latter must be correct – in turn indicating the passive
perfective curin. This
is probably unrelated to the ‘dots vowel system’ but rather an ad hoc attempt
to distinguish the passive verb form.
Interestingly,
the R in cRN evidences paleographic recidivism, based
on the apparent continued usage of the letter name riš (possibly an
earlier ruš – specifically at Deir Alla). The scribe used an ad hoc but essentially
obvious graphical derivation, deviating from the styled V-like-R to a head-like-R. But this derivation also implies a regular R
grapheme rotated 90° counterclockwise protruding from the ‘head,’ possibly as
its ‘hair.’ Within the context of the
inscription’s narrative, this ad hoc grapheme may have better conveyed the idea
of Baily’s Beads alongside the eclipsed sun.
The
two phrases in this line are interesting.
The first, cNT-NR, refers to the goddess Anat with an
apparently unattested epithet ‘of Fire’.
Likewise, WW-NR appears to refer to a ‘hook of fire’ – with neither
necessarily being localizable to a specific dialect. The final line, written on the edge of the
seal, has apparently lost an explicit aleph present in the root. The reason is almost certainly phonetic. The only independent aleph suggested is in III,
and is paleographically very similar to H.[44] In B[’]WR it seems most likely that no
glottal was explicitly pronounced, i.e. būr. The use of this prepositional phrase confirms
the passive form of cRN to which it is connected.
There
is an additional point of confusion in translating this inscription in
particular. The above string of phrases reveal
III’s pattern of placing construct-states within word divisions. But the first division – hw nṣ then
might be taken as (the odd) ‘he of the hawk.’
The following word ṣlm would then either reflect a D-stem verb
‘to darken,’ or a noun ‘dark one.’ While
within the context of the other two inscriptions rs1 can
reasonably be taken to mean ‘chief,’ it can also reflect certain geographical
terms in both Aramaic and Arabic. But,
with obvious regard to context, two nouns in a word division, may also have
been a means of rendering a nominal sentence in III. The adjective ṣlm would then occur
after the word division to avoid genitive confusion.
The Nature of the Dots
Quite
interestingly, the dots littered throughout I and II are posited
to reflect a short u, essentially abnormally early evidence of the ad
hoc indication of matres lectionis. The
hypothesis is very simple – the dots were used to distinguish u from a,
i, or no vowel. This is not
efficient as a diacritic system, so its origin may be in differentiation of
grammatical possibilities – for which, along with word dividers, it is
surprisingly efficient. This system is
hypothesized as an ad hoc development based on a total lack of additional
external evidence for a comparable means of differentiating matres lectionis,
inflection, or grammar.
In III,
construct states appear to occur only within word divisions. This may be a late feature. In I and II construct states
appear to straddle word divisions, with the second noun not being marked with a
dot (i.e. non-nominal case). When placed
above or beside a letter, the dot may reflect u. But in rs1, it may reflect
a condensed glottal ’u to /u/.
Two dots may specifically reflect ū in the plural htr[uu]n
– but this plural is not used grammatically in context (it is a name). It is likely that the loss of dots in III
indicates or follows a progressive loss of inflection. It is not clear whether the dots in I
and II may inadvertently offer early evidence of the Canaanite shift
from ā to ō.
What
must have been an ad hoc system could be attributed to a single scribe. By III, there had been at least three
generations of script developments; but there may well have been more. The first two are epigraphically and
paleographically more similar, but II may be the most archaic of the
three. The eclipse text III must
be from a significantly later period.
The script may then have been transmitted to the scribe of III, probably
interpersonally, without the ad hoc vowel system – or that scribe chose to stop
using it. This fits a gradual replacement
of the unusual and sparsely attested script by scripts related to Proto-Canaanite.
The -*,
next to a letter, reflects being written on top of (or connected to the top of)
the letter to the left; when written with a space, it reflects a dot drawn next
to the preceding letter but not obviously ‘connected’ to it.
I: MKR* /
R*S1 * / HTR* *N / HBR* / R*S1 * / LḪM
makaru . rušu . hatarūni . habru . rušu . laḫami
“Makaru
(/the merchant?), Chief of the Hatarūn, is an ally. Chief of Laḫam."
II: WṢ(*?)YH
N*H KPG / R*S1 | W DH NḪ / LḪBR* / [R*S1]
waṣuyah . nuha . ka pagi . ruša / wa . dah . niḫa . li-ḫabiru . ruši
“At the departure is lamentation, like the pagû-instrument,
to the chief –
And at this (time) is rest for Ḫabiru-the-Chief.’ [** As I look back on this it would be "for (maybe) the Exorcist of the Chief". Whatever that word Habiru means, R*S1 (without S 1 in the nominative) suggests a genitive construction in which the meaning is HBR of the Chief - less indicative of a proper noun. **]
And at this (time) is rest for Ḫabiru-the-Chief.’ [** As I look back on this it would be "for (maybe) the Exorcist of the Chief". Whatever that word Habiru means, R*S1 (without S
It is
possible that I is some sort of travel document pertinent to a nomadic
people. A similar idea for diplomatic
agents is known during the Amarna Period.[45] If this is indeed ‘permission’ from the
‘Chief of Bethlehem’ for passage or trade through the area, it would suggest
the more widespread attestation and usage of this script, for however brief a
time. It is important to note that the
proper understanding of ibrû is “an institutionalized relationship
between free persons of the same status or profession which entailed acceptance
of the same code of behavior and an obligation of mutual assistance.”[46] It is also possible this essentially codifies
an alliance.
It is
probably also worth pointing out how brilliantly II is written in a sort
of phonetic juxtaposition between the two lines: wa1-wa2,
(ṣuya1-da2,) ah1-ah2, nuh1-niḫ2,
(li2,) ka1-ḫa2, pa1-bi2,
gi1-ru2, ru1-ru2, ša1-ši2. Considering the parallel use of the locative/directive
cases, the contrast of a root w- and the conjunction, the parallel use
of prepositional phrases, and the lines both ending with the same word
inflected differently, this may be considered a poetic composition – certainly in
a funerary context.
Thoughts
on Paleography
In I
and II, Ḫ can really only be compared paleographically with the North
Arabian Thamudic B&C, Hismaic, and Safaitic trends.[47] In I, this grapheme can be clearly
differentiated from T. Unfortunately, no
examples of a distinct Ḥ are attested so far in this script, which would
distinctively mark it as being Arabian.
But in addition to W, the M’s present in I and III are
also distinctly Arabian – enclosed forms.
These must be compared with Taymanitic, Thamudic B, Safaitic, or
Hasaitic, or perhaps Hismaic,[48]
in addition to South Arabian.
In
general, it would be fairer to say that this script evidences some of the
potential source of the later North and possibly South Arabian paleographic
variation. This manner of contact is not
unbelievable as Deir Alla is at a crossroads of sorts. However, the script attested in I and II
cannot actually be ancestral to North Arabian.
Rather, these three short inscriptions provide evidence of the early alphabet’s
‘incubation,’ in various places, in turn explaining connected variance between
earlier and later periods. By III,
the presence of a Phoenician-style ṣ and the essentially Canaanite s
(S3) additionally support the conclusion of the early
script’s gradual replacement by a formal corpus.
Epigraphic
Thoughts
As for
the language, ruš is an unusual orthography for ‘chief.’ However, the Amarna orthography rūšu
‘head’, written ru-šu in cuneiform,[49] offers
a very solid comparison as possibly does a (foreign) name found in Ugaritic ’ilrš.[50] The semantic connection of ‘head’ and ‘chief’
is common. Two cases of h
certainly correspond to Akkadian vowels: both habru and nuha appear
to reflect Akkadian orthographies. In II,
li-ḫabiru / ruši reflects a prepositional phrase (i.e. li
… ruši), but the dot after ḫabiru marks it as a name. Likewise, the context and presence of the
preposition negate the possibility of a construct state.[51]
In I,
dots occur next to, rather than above, two S1’s. In I and II, dots occur above
two R’s but at the end of words (rather than initially as with ruš) –
both in names. It is possible that this
is intended to differentiate between grammatical usage and usage in names. It is interesting to note that aside from
with habru (which may be explained by severely condensed spacing), the
only two cases in which dots occur above letters at the end of a word is in the
two PN’s present in I and II.
The
unusual –a in the nouns following the locative cases is unclear.[52] In II, however, ruša
clearly reflects an accusative case without the addition of a preposition. The origin of the plural form –ūn(a)
is also unclear. Though the language
reflected is undoubtedly Northwest Semitic, it possesses archaic features, and
was lexically and orthographically affected by contact with Northeast Semitic, and
its contemporary cuneiform orthographies.
[1] Michael C. A. Macdonald, “Chapter 6: Ancient
North Arabian,” in The Languages of Syria-Palestine and Arabia, ed.
Roger D Woodard (Cambridge, MA, 2008), 488-94.
[2] William H. Shea, “The Inscribed Tablets from
Tell Deir cAlla Part I.” Andrews University Seminary Studies,
27, no. 1 (1989a): 21-37; and William
H. Shea, “The Inscribed Tablets from Tell Deir cAlla Part II.” Andrews
University Seminary Studies, 27, no. 2 (1989b), 97-118.
[3] For reference, I have included my charts as
Appendix I; but even this is insufficient without the larger set of
translations and external evidence. And
this is simply to show the distance between earlier and later alphabetic trends
and the Deir Alla inscriptions.
Hopefully forthcoming JNES, XXX.
[4] It additionally occurs in three of the ‘Theban
texts’ published by Petrie (Thebes 1, Thebes 2a, and Thebes 6); see William
Flinders Petrie, The Formation of the Alphabet, BSAE Studies Series,
vol. III (London, 1912), Plate I.
[5] H. J. Franken, “Clay Tablets from Deir ‘Alla
Jordan.” Vetus Testamentum, 14,
no. 3 (1964a), 377.
[6] It’s worth noting that Franken additionally
published uinscribed but dotted seals, though these clearly did not serve the same
purpose; see, H. J. Franken, “Excavations at Deir 'Allā, Season
1964: Preliminary Report.” Vetus Testamentum, 14, no. 4 (1964b): Plate Va.
[7] I have been unable to find a photograph of
this inscription, but see drawings in Franken 1964a, 379; and Shea 1989a: 29.
[8] W. F. Albright, “The Canaanite God Ḥaurôn (Ḥôrôn).”
The American Journal of Semitic Languages and Literatures, 53, no. 1
(1936): 7.
[9] A. Murtonen, Volume 3, Sections Bb. Root
System: Comparative Material and Discussions. Sections C, D and E: Numerals
under 100, Pronouns and Particles, Hebrew Material, vol. 3 of Hebrew in
its West Semitic Setting. A Comparative Survey of Non-Masoretic Hebrew Dialects
and Traditions. Part 1. A Comparative Lexicon (Leiden, 1990), 225.
[10] Chicago Assyrian Dictionary (CAD), I,
294, accessed May 22, 2012, http://oi.uchicago.edu/pdf/cad_i.pdf).
[11] CAD, A: Part II:atāru, 487-92,
accessed May 22, 2012, http://oi.uchicago.edu/pdf/cad_a2.pdf
[12] The lack of an aleph fits this script’s
tendency to drop alephs not at the beginning of phrases (for which there is
only a single example). In this case,
the reason may be additionally phonetic as a C-stem would fit the realization
ha’tar, condensed to hatar anyway without a distinct glottal-stop, and pluralized
hatarūna.
[13] Robert Payne Smith, A Compendious Syriac
Dictionary: Founded upon the Thesaurus Syriacus of R. Payne Smith. (Oxford,
1903), 200.
[14] ed. J. M. Cowan, Arabic-English Dictionary: The
Hans Wehr Dictionary of Modern Written Arabic, fourth edition (Urbana, IL,
1994), 1227.
[15] Murtonen 1990, 258.
[16] CAD M:makkāru, 131, accessed June 11, 2012,
http://oi.uchicago.edu/pdf/cad_m1.pdf
[17] ibid, 129.
[18] CAD I:ibru, 5, accessed May 22, 2012,
http://oi.uchicago.edu/pdf/cad_i.pdf.
[19] Murtonen 1990, 391.
[20] A photograph appears in Franken 1964b: Plate Vb. Shea’s drawings occur in Shea 1989a: 31; and Shea
1989b: 99.
[21] My reading of this word relies on Shea’s (1989a
& 1989b) drawings.
[22] CAD, A: Part II:aṣû, 356-85.
[23] Murtonen 1990, 219.
[24] Dennis Pardee, “Chapter 1: Ugaritic,” in The
Languages of Syria-Palestine and Arabia, ed. Roger D. Woodard (Cambridge,
MA, 2008), 26.
[25] Murtonen 1990, 95.
[26] ed. Cowan 1994, 1182.
[27] CAD, N: Part II:na’û, 134, accessed
May 22, 2012, http://oi.uchicago.edu/pdf/cad_n2.pdf
[28] See, Ezekiel 7:11.
[29] It occurs in the same constellation Theban
text but in a relatively clear context (Petrie 1912, Plate I), the origin and
descent of the odd anchor-shaped G is unclear.
[30] CAD, P:pagû, 19, accessed May 22, 2012,
http://oi.uchicago.edu/pdf/cad_p.pdf.
[31] ibid,359.
[32] Its consideration as a demonstrative is
unlikely. At least from a Proto-Sinaitic
standpoint, the demonstrative’s orthography is always ḏ (> z), with
no –h.
[33] Murtonen 1990, 276.
[34] A more than adequate photograph is provided;
see Franken 1964a, Plate I.
[35] J. L. Cunchillos, J. P. Vita and J. Á.
Zamora, The Texts of the Ugaritic Data Bank, Volume II, translated by A.
Lacadena and A. Castro (Piscataway, NJ, 2003), 995. See also, J. L. Cunchillos, J. P. Vita and J.
Á. Zamora, The Texts of the Ugaritic Data Bank, Volume III, translated by A.
Lacadena and A. Castro (Piscataway, NJ, 2003), 1453.
[36] Payne-Smith 1903, 347.
[37] CAD, Ṣ:ṣalmu, 77-8, accessed October
4, 2011, http://oi.uchicago.edu/pdf/cad_s_tsade.pdf
[38] ibid, 73.
[39] Payne Smith 1903, 21.
[40] ibid, 540.
[41] ibid, 429.
[42] ed. Cowan 1994, 712.
[43] The Smithsonian Museum’s ‘Written in Stone’
exhibit’s Chart of Comparative Letters attributes very similar graphemes to
‘Thmaudic’ c’s (http://www.mnh.si.edu/epigraphy/e_pre-islamic/fig02_comparativechart.htm). However, I am unable to verify this claim,
and the credibility of this chart was called into question in my correspondence
with another scholar of North Arabian.
[44] This could suggest a possible parallel development
to the origin, in my opinion, of Ugaritic ’i and ’u from the Ugaritic-Canaanite
glottal H. However, this may be a
coincidence, and the aleph in III may simply be a development preceding
some North Arabian variants employing two ‘hornlike’ lines protruding from either
side of a straight line.
[45] See, Bertrand Lafont, “International
Relations in the Ancient Near East: The birth of a complete diplomatic system.”
Diplomacy & Statecraft, 12,
no. 1 (2001): 46.
[46] CAD, I:ibrû, 7.
[47] Macdonald 2008, 496.
[48] Macdonald 2008, 496.
[49] CAD, R, 432, accessed May 22, 2012,
http://oi.uchicago.edu/pdf/cad_r.pdf.
[50] See, J. L. Cunchillos, J. P. Vita and J. Á. Zamora,
The Texts of the Ugaritic Data Bank, Volume III, translated by A. Lacadena
and A. Castro (Piscataway, NJ, 2003), 1453; the name ’ilrš occurs in
several places – and may be a non-Ugaritic orthography meaning ‘Ilu is Chief,’
which would corroborate the analogous Deir Alla rš.
[51] I suppose it is possible, due to the probable
presence of ḫbr as a
root in Ugaritic (KRT) (XXX), Akkadian (XXX), and Arabic (XXX) to interpret this
phrase as ‘informant of the chief,’ though I believe this breaks the formula
(in I and II) of PN [nominative] (Word Division) The
Chief [nominative]; in this case the second nominative changes due to
the preposition because it is not a proper noun.
[52] Unfortunately an analysis of non-syllabic
Ugaritic is not useful, and analysis of comparable Biblical Hebrew
constructions is also inconclusive, not only because the directive occurs at
the end of phrases but also because the loss of inflection renders analogy
difficult. The Deir Alla constructions
are closer to that seen at Wadi el-Hol, in which the noun-directive heads a
phrase. The directive nature of the
phrasing means that the following noun(s) really are objects – being directed
toward the noun with the enclitic ‘case.’
This essentially flips the expected subject-object relationship,
possibly indicating a passive construction: i.e. in Wadi el-Hol ḏunā ‘aṯtarah qašta kupṯa “These
are for Athtar, the bow and the scimitar,” compared with li‘aṯtar qašta kupṯa
“For Athtar are the bow and scimitar.”
The construction is almost certainly poetic in Deir Alla and may have
been formal at Wadi el-Hol.