5 min read

Josephus Unmasks Osarsiph the False Moses

Manetho wrote that eighty thousand lepers were driven out of Egypt. Josephus read the story in Rome and pulled it apart, question by question.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The King Who Wanted to See the Gods
  2. Avaris Chooses a Priest
  3. Cheremon Tells It Wrong in a Second Mouth
  4. The Real Moses on the Page

Someone moved first, before any source name entered the room.

Josephus Unmasks Osarsiph the False Moses Click for full size

Josephus sat with Manetho's pages open and felt the old heat climb his neck. The Egyptian priest had already admitted that the shepherds left Egypt centuries earlier, settled in Judea, and built Jerusalem. Then, as if the timeline bored him, Manetho invented a second exit and poured leprosy over it.

Josephus did not write for pleasure. He wrote because silence would be read as agreement, and agreement would leave his people named as a disease.

The King Who Wanted to See the Gods

Manetho begins with a king named Amenophis who "desired to see the gods." Josephus stops him there. Which gods? The ox and the crocodile already stood in their temples. If Amenophis meant the heavenly ones, what made him think a purge of sick bodies would haul them down into sight? Had another king already seen them, and if so, why invent a new trick?

A prophet steps in, Amenophis son of Papis, wise enough, Manetho claims, to partake of a divine nature. The prophet tells the king to clear Egypt of lepers and other impure people. Eighty thousand are rounded up in a single sweep and driven east of the Nile into the quarries. Josephus presses the absurdity without raising his voice. How does a kingdom gather eighty thousand maimed bodies in one day? Why send them to labor if the order was expulsion? A king short of workers is not a king purging a land.

The prophet then kills himself, leaving a written prediction of thirteen years of disaster. Josephus asks the question the fiction cannot survive. If the man foresaw the gods' anger, how did he miss his own death? What fear could be worse than the blade he turned on himself?

Avaris Chooses a Priest

After long misery in the quarries, the king grants the outcasts the empty city of Avaris, once the shepherds' stronghold, a place Manetho ties to Typhon. Inside the walls they swear obedience to a priest of Heliopolis named Osarsiph. He forbids the worship of Egyptian gods. He orders the sacred animals killed and eaten. He walls the city and prepares war.

Then the name changes. Osarsiph, Manetho says, is called Moses.

Josephus holds that sentence like a bone that will not set. Moses, in the history Josephus defends, leads a people out of bondage under the will of the one God, not a leper army bent on roasting temple animals. Manetho has stolen the name and nailed it to a priest who invents laws against Egypt out of spite.

Osarsiph sends to Jerusalem. Two hundred thousand shepherds answer, hungry for Avaris and the old country. Amenophis marches three hundred thousand, then turns without a fight, gathers Apis and the other sacred beasts, and flees into Ethiopia with his five-year-old son sent ahead to safety. For thirteen years the invaders, in Manetho's telling, burn cities, force priests to slaughter holy animals, and strip the land bare. Amenophis returns with a great army and drives them to the edge of Syria.

Cheremon Tells It Wrong in a Second Mouth

Another Egyptian voice, Cheremon, tries the same libel with different furniture. Isis appears to Amenophis in a dream and blames him for a demolished temple. A sacred scribe named Phritiphantes advises a purge of polluted men. The count jumps to two hundred fifty thousand. Moses and Joseph march out together as scribes renamed Tisithen and Peteseph, meet three hundred eighty thousand abandoned men near Pelusium, and storm Egypt while Amenophis flees to Ethiopia and a son is born in a cave.

Josephus sets the two scrolls side by side until the ink itself confesses. Manetho says the king wanted to see the gods. Cheremon says Isis sent a dream. Manetho names Amenophis the seer. Cheremon names Phritiphantes. Manetho counts eighty thousand. Cheremon counts two hundred fifty thousand. Manetho sends the outcasts to quarries and Avaris before war. Cheremon has them wander out and bump into an army no one can identify. Cheremon even drives Joseph out with Moses, though Joseph died nearly one hundred seventy years earlier, four generations before the man of the Exodus.

"They agree exceedingly well," Josephus writes, and the sarcasm is a blade laid flat on the table.

The Real Moses on the Page

Against that inventiveness Josephus sets the Moses he will not surrender. When the people left Egypt, Moses led them through waterless sand, fought enemies, and guarded households. He did not seize a tyranny. He bound himself to piety and to the people's survival. He persuaded himself, and then them, that he moved under God's eye, so that the fear of heaven would keep hands clean when no human judge was watching.

Other nations dress their lawgivers in borrowed dreams. Josephus will not let a Heliopolitan priest in a leper camp wear Moses' name for free. The laws of Israel, he insists, are not a revolt against Egyptian barnyard gods. They are older, stricter, and aimed at a people that still dies in arenas rather than curse its own books.

Josephus closes the section with the work still unfinished. Apion and the rest still wait. But Osarsiph has already been stripped. The false Moses lies on the floor of the argument like a mask without a face.

JosephusMosesManethoEgyptApionHistoryDefense
← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

3 sources

The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Against Apion 28:1Against Apion

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Against Apion, trans. William Whiston · Public Domain

Our story comes to us, indirectly, from Flavius Josephus, the 1st-century Romano-Jewish historian. In his work Against Apion, Josephus is defending Judaism against its detractors. One of those detractors was Manetho, an Egyptian priest and historian from the 3rd century BCE. Manetho spun a wild tale about the origins of the Jews, and Josephus, quite understandably, wasn't having it.

Manetho's version, as relayed by Josephus, begins with a king named Amenophis who, for some reason, "desired to see the gods." Now, Josephus is quick to point out the absurdity of this. What gods are we talking about? The animal deities the Egyptians already worshipped? Or the heavenly ones? And if the latter, what made Amenophis think he could just see them? Had another king done it before?

Then comes the prophet, supposedly a wise man. But if he was so wise, why didn't he tell the king his desire was impossible? Josephus rightly asks: since when do gods care about bodily ailments? Aren't they more concerned with wickedness? Plus, how do you even gather eighty thousand lepers in one day?

The king, instead of expelling these afflicted people as the prophet supposedly advised, sends them to work in quarries. It's as if he needed laborers more than he wanted to "purge his country". And the prophet? He kills himself, predicting the gods' wrath. But wait, if he was such a seer, why didn't he foresee his own demise?

But the story doesn't end there. The king, despite the dire warnings, allows these "maimed" people to inhabit Avaris, a city formerly belonging to the shepherds (a term often associated with foreigners and sometimes used pejoratively). Here, they choose a priest from Hellopolis named Osarsiph, who then changes his name to Moses. Yes, that Moses.

According to Manetho, this Moses forbids the people from worshipping Egyptian gods and encourages them to kill and eat the sacred animals. He forms a pact with them, builds a wall around Avaris, and then… declares war on the king.

And it gets even more fantastical. Moses sends a message to Jerusalem, inviting "that people" (the Jews) to come to his aid, promising them Avaris, claiming it once belonged to their ancestors. They arrive, and together they wage war against Egypt, burning cities and temples, committing all sorts of atrocities.

The Egyptian king, Amenophis, supposedly flees to Ethiopia, leaving the sacred animals in the care of the priests. But thirteen years later, he returns with a massive army, defeats the "shepherds" and the "polluted people," and drives them all the way back to Syria.

Josephus is incredulous, and for good reason. He meticulously dismantles Manetho's narrative, pointing out its inconsistencies and absurdities. It's a clear attempt to slander the Jewish people and distort their history. The idea that Moses was a defrocked Egyptian priest who led a band of lepers and committed atrocities simply doesn't hold water.

What's fascinating about this story is how it highlights the power of narrative. Manetho crafted a tale designed to demonize the Jews, playing on existing prejudices and fears. And while Josephus effectively refutes it, the fact that such a story existed in the first place is a reminder of how easily history can be twisted and manipulated. It reminds us to be critical of the stories we hear, to question their sources, and to always seek a deeper understanding of the truth.

Full source
Against Apion 33:1Against Apion

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Against Apion, trans. William Whiston · Public Domain

We've been looking at how different writers tried to explain the story of the Israelites leaving Egypt. Last time, we dug into Manetho's version, and now Get ready, because it's a wild ride.

Josephus, defending the Jewish people against slander, wastes no time in pointing out the inconsistencies. He basically says, "Look, if there were any truth to these stories, they wouldn't contradict each other so much!" And he's right. The discrepancies are glaring.

Manetho, for instance, claims the expulsion of the "polluted people" (that's the Israelites) happened because the king wanted to see the gods. But Cheremon? He says it was all because of a dream sent to the king by Isis. Different motivations, different divine sources. Already, we're off to a shaky start.

Then there's the matter of who foresaw this whole "purgation of Egypt." Manetho names Amenophis, while Cheremon throws out the name Phritiphantes. It’s like they're not even talking about the same event!

And the numbers? Oh, the numbers are a joke. Manetho says there were 80,000 people expelled. Cheremon? A cool 250,000! As Josephus sarcastically notes, they "agree exceedingly well." (That’s some ancient shade right there!)

The details of the expulsion itself are just as muddled. Manetho writes about the Israelites being sent to work in quarries and being given the city of Avaris to live in. He even says they started a war with the Egyptians and then invited the people of Jerusalem for help. Cheremon, on the other hand, says they just wandered out of Egypt and bumped into 380,000 men near Pelusium who had been abandoned by Amenophis. Together, they invaded Egypt, and Amenophis fled to Ethiopia.

But here's the real kicker: who are these 380,000 men? Cheremon doesn't say! Are they native Egyptians? Foreigners? We have no idea! And why wouldn't the king let the "leprous people" into Egypt in the first place? Cheremon conveniently forgets to explain that too.

It gets even more absurd. Cheremon claims Joseph was driven out of Egypt at the same time as Moses. Josephus is quick to point out that Joseph died four generations – roughly 170 years – before Moses! This is a major chronological blunder. According to the timeline presented in the Torah, the math simply doesn't add up. (Josephus estimated a generation at that time as around 42-43 years, based on his own calculations elsewhere in his writings. Fascinating. )

And the confusion doesn't stop there. Manetho's version has Ramesses, the son of Amenophis, as a young man fighting alongside his father. But Cheremon says Ramesses was born in a cave after his father died. Then, according to Cheremon, Ramesses defeats the Jews in battle and drives them into Syria, but he neglects to mention what happened to the 430,000 people from earlier. Did they die in battle? Did they join Ramesses? Who knows?!

To top it all off, Cheremon never clarifies who he's even calling "Jews." Is it the 250,000 "leprous people" or the 380,000 near Pelusium? It's a complete mess.

Josephus concludes that it's almost silly to even bother refuting such a self-contradictory account. The inconsistencies are so glaring that they practically debunk themselves.

So, what are we to make of all this? Well, it shows us how history can be twisted and distorted, especially when it's filtered through prejudice and misunderstanding. These accounts, as flawed as they are, remind us to be critical of the stories we hear, to question the sources, and to look for the truth beneath the surface. It also shows us that the stories we tell matter, and that the way we tell them can have a profound impact on how they are understood. The Exodus story, as told in the Torah, carries a message of liberation and hope. These alternative accounts, filled with inaccuracies and biases, serve as a reminder of the importance of preserving and understanding the original narrative.

Full source
Against Apion 16:1Against Apion

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Against Apion, trans. William Whiston · Public Domain

Josephus wants to set the record straight about Moses. He argues that when our ancestors decided to leave Egypt and return to their homeland, it was Moses who led them, saving them from immense hardship. He emphasizes the sheer difficulty of this journey – traversing a waterless, sandy desert, battling enemies, and protecting families. In short, Moses had to be a brilliant general, a wise counselor, and a selfless leader.

Here's the thing: Moses didn't use his authority for personal gain. He didn't become a tyrant. Instead, he focused on piety and the well-being of the people. Because of his incredible actions and the wisdom he showed, the people saw him as a divine leader and counselor.

How did Moses manage to inspire such devotion? Josephus explains that Moses was convinced his actions aligned with God's will. As Josephus puts it, Moses "persuaded himself" that he was acting according to God's plan, which is to say he was deeply and utterly convinced he was doing God's work. He then instilled this belief in the people. He understood that if people believed God was watching them, they would be less likely to sin. Moses, Josephus insists, was no impostor. He was a true leader, comparable to the legendary figures of other cultures, like Minos, who claimed divine inspiration for their laws.

Of course, other cultures also claimed divine inspiration for their laws. Some Greeks said their laws came from Jupiter, while Minos claimed Apollo and the oracle at Delphi were the source of his. But Josephus challenges us: which laws were truly the best? Which leader had the strongest reason to believe God was their author? Comparing the laws themselves would reveal the truth, he implies.

Then Josephus gets to the heart of the matter: the nature of Jewish governance. He points out that other nations have monarchies, oligarchies, or republics. But the Jewish system, according to Josephus, was unique. He calls it a "Theocracy" – a government where authority and power are ascribed to God. In fact, Josephus says that Moses "ordained the Jewish government to be a theocracy." It was about persuading everyone to recognize God as the source of all good things, both communal and personal, obtained through prayer in times of trouble.

Moses taught that nothing escapes God's notice – not our actions, not even our thoughts. He presented God as unbegotten, immutable, and eternally beyond human comprehension, known through His power but not in His essence. These ideas, Josephus notes, resonate with the wisdom of the greatest Greek thinkers like Pythagoras, Anaxagoras, Plato, and the Stoics. However, these philosophers were hesitant to share these truths with the masses, who were attached to other beliefs. Moses, on the other hand, managed to ingrain this faith in God so deeply that it endured through generations.

Josephus concludes by highlighting that Moses didn't just make religion a part of virtue; he made other virtues – justice, fortitude, temperance, and communal harmony – parts of religion. Everything, every action, every word, was connected to piety toward God.

The key, says Josephus, is that there are two ways to learn morality: through instruction and through practice. Other lawgivers separated these two. Some, like the Spartans and Cretans, emphasized practice, while others, like the Athenians, focused on laws but neglected practical application. Moses, however, integrated both, creating a system where belief in God permeated every aspect of life.

What does all this mean for us today? Josephus reminds us that true leadership isn't about personal gain or power. It's about serving others, seeking God's will, and creating a society rooted in justice, compassion, and unwavering faith. It’s a powerful message, one that continues to resonate across the centuries.

Full source