5 min read

Moses Ruled Kush for Forty Years Before God Spoke From the Bush

Before the burning bush, Moses spent forty years as king of Kush -- winning a siege with storks, refusing to touch a queen not his own, then quietly dismissed.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Siege That Sorcery Could Not Break
  2. The Storks That Won the War
  3. The Queen Who Waited Forty Years
  4. What Kush Made of Moses

The Torah says Moses was eighty years old when he stood before the burning bush in the wilderness of Sinai. He had fled Egypt at forty. The gap of forty years between his flight and his call sits in the Torah like an unmarked room. The rabbis who wrote Sefer HaYashar, the Book of the Upright, walked into it and found a kingdom.

The Siege That Sorcery Could Not Break

Konkos, king of Kush, had marched out against Aram and the children of Kedem, leaving his city in the care of Bilam the sorcerer. Bilam turned the people against Konkos while the king was away. By the time Konkos returned, the walls had been raised higher, the riverbank had been diverted into defensive channels, and the fourth side of the city was guarded by enchanted serpents. The army attacked for three days on three fronts and lost more than five hundred men. They could not enter their own city.

Moses arrived in the Kushite camp during that siege. He was eighteen years old and had just run from Egypt. The army recognized in him what the midrashic tradition reads as an obvious quality: he had the face and bearing of someone who had been raised in a royal house, who carried authority as a natural condition of his presence. They made him their general.

The Storks That Won the War

Moses assessed the defenses. The serpents guarding the fourth wall could not be fought. He did not try to fight them. He found young storks, birds that eat serpents, and trained them until they could be used as weapons. When the army advanced on the fourth wall with the storks ahead of them, the enchanted serpents were devoured and the wall fell. The city was taken. Bilam and his sons fled. Konkos died in the siege. The Kushite soldiers, standing in their recaptured city with their general who had given them back what they lost, offered Moses the crown.

He became king of Kush at the age of eighteen.

The Queen Who Waited Forty Years

The Kushite queen was named Adonit. She pressed Moses to marry her and take her as wife. He refused, but not in a way that disrupted the kingdom. He refused quietly, with the patience of a man who knew his own situation precisely. He was a Hebrew. He was not supposed to be here. He had been shaped for something else. He ruled justly, the tradition says, for forty years, holding the kingdom together, administering it well, and never touching Adonit in a way that would have bound him to Kush rather than to Israel.

When Adonit finally understood that Moses would never marry her, she went to the people and made her case: this man has not worshipped our gods, has not joined himself to us, has not been a real king. Make him leave. The people heard her. They respected Moses enough to dismiss him honorably, with gifts of gold and silver and precious stones, rather than in humiliation. He left Kush at fifty-seven years old, walking back toward the world that had been waiting for him since before he was born.

What Kush Made of Moses

The forty years in Kush are not years spent waiting. They are years of formation of a different kind than any schooling. Moses learned to take a city that sorcery had sealed. He learned to govern a people that were not his own with enough justice that even those who wanted him gone honored him as they let him go. He learned the particular loneliness of a man who is king somewhere he does not belong, who holds power correctly even though the power is not his destiny.

When God spoke from the burning bush and called him to lead Israel, Moses was eighty years old, had ruled a kingdom for forty years, had been dismissed from that kingdom with dignity, and had spent the intervening time tending sheep in the wilderness of Sinai. He had been made, again and again, through circumstances that looked nothing like preparation but were exactly preparation. The burning bush found a man who already knew how to hold a siege, lead people who were not his own, refuse what would bind him to the wrong place, and wait.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

4 sources

The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Yalkut Shimoni on Torah 168:2Yalkut Shimoni on Torah

In those times there was a war between Kush and the children of the East. Konkos, king of Kush, went out to war against Aram and the children of the East, leaving Bilam, who is Laban the Aramean from Petor, the diviner, together with his two sons Inus and Iamberus, in charge of the city. Meanwhile Bilam spoke with the simple people of the land about rebelling against King Konkos so that he would not return to the city. The people listened to him, accepted him, swore to him, appointed Bilam king over them, and made his sons commanders of the army. They raised the walls on two sides. On the third side they dug countless pits between the city and the river that surrounded all the land of Kush, and they diverted the river to flood them. On the fourth side they gathered many serpents by incantations and sorcery. There was no way to go out or come in. When the king and all his army returned from the war, they lifted their eyes and saw that the city walls were much higher. They said, "They saw that we delayed, so they raised the city walls and strengthened them in case the kings of Canaan attacked." But when they came near the gates of the city, the gates were shut. They called to the guards, saying, "Open for us so that we may come into the city," but the guards refused by order of Bilam the diviner. They declared war at the gate itself, and that day one hundred thirty of Konkos' soldiers fell. The next day they fought from the side of the river, but they sank and died. They made rafts from wood, but when they crossed and reached the pits, the waters churned over them like millstones. Thirty horsemen drowned in the pits, and two hundred men drowned on ten rafts. On the third day they tried to enter from the side of the serpents, and one hundred seventy men died. So they stopped fighting. During the siege of Kush, Moses fled from Egypt and came to the camp of Konkos, king of Kush. Moses was eighteen years old when he fled, and Konkos had already been besieging Kush for nine years. The young man went in and out among them. The king, his officers, and all the soldiers of his army valued him greatly, because he was great and beloved. He was tall as a cedar, his face shone like the sun, he had the strength and courage of a lion, and he was a faithful adviser to the king. After nine years, the king became gravely ill, and on the seventh day he died. They embalmed him and buried him opposite the gate of the city that faced Mitzraim. They built over him a great mausoleum, high and beautiful, and inscribed upon it all his wars and mighty deeds. When they finished building, they said to one another, "What shall we do now? If we make war against the city, many of our soldiers will die. But if we remain in the siege, the kings of Aram will hear that our king has died, and they will suddenly attack us and kill us all. Let us appoint a king for ourselves and remain in the siege until they surrender the city to us." Quickly, each man removed his garments and piled them on the ground, and on that mound they lifted Moses. They sounded shofarot and said, "Long live the king, long live the king." All the officers and all the people swore to give him the Kushite lady, wife of Konkos, as a wife, and they appointed Moses king over them. Moses was twenty-seven years old when he became king of Kush.

On the second day of his reign, they all said before Moses, "If it seems good to the king, advise us what to do, for we have spent nine years without seeing our wives and children while we besieged the city." The king answered the people, saying, "If you listen to my voice, know that the city will be given into our hands. If we wage war, we will fall as before, and the same will happen if we try to enter by our own means. Here is the plan: go to the forest, and let each man bring a young stork." They did as the king said. When the young storks had grown, the king ordered that they be made hungry for two days, and the people did so. On the third day the king told them, "Let every soldier take his weapons, mount his horse, and take the young stork in his hand. Let us rise and make war against the city from the place where the serpents are." They did as the king said. When they reached the place of the serpents, the young storks ate the serpents and removed them from that place. When the king and the people saw that the serpents were gone, they raised a great battle cry and conquered the city. One thousand one hundred inhabitants of the city died that day, and not one man from the besieging force died. Then each man came to his house, his wife, and his possessions.

When Bilam the diviner saw that the city had been conquered, he opened the gate, mounted his horse with his two sons, fled to Mitzraim, and came to Pharaoh, king of Mitzraim. He and his sons were the sorcerer-magicians described in Sefer HaYashar as Pharaoh's advisers, who sought to erase the name of Jacob from the face of the earth. Moses conquered the city by his wisdom. They seated him on the royal throne, placed the royal crown on his head, and gave him the Kushite lady as a wife. But Moses was reverent and feared the God of his fathers, and he did not come near her. He remembered the oath that Abraham made Eliezer his servant swear, saying, "Do not take a wife from the daughters of Canaan." Isaac had done the same when Jacob fled from Esau, commanding him not to marry the daughters of Ham, for the children of Ham had been given as servants to the children of Shem and the children of Japheth. Therefore Moses feared HaShem his God and walked before Him in truth and with all his heart. He did not turn aside from the path walked by Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Moses became established in the kingdom of the children of Kush. He made war against Edom, the children of the East, and Aram, and all of them submitted before the children of Kush. The days that Moses reigned over the children of Kush were forty years. He succeeded in all his wars, because HaShem, God of his fathers, was with him. In the fortieth year of his reign, he sat on his royal throne, with his queen sitting to his right. Then the queen said to the ministers and the people, "This man has reigned over Kush for forty years, yet he has not come near me, and he has not served the gods of the children of Kush. Now listen, children of Kush, and let this man no longer reign. My son Munjam shall reign over you, for it is better for you to serve the son of your lord than a foreigner, servant of the king of Egypt." All the people debated until evening. The next morning they rose early and crowned Munjam son of Konkos as king over them. But the children of Kush were afraid to depose Moses by force, because they remembered what they had sworn. So they gave him important gifts and sent him away with great honor. Moses went out from there and ceased to reign over Kush. Moses was sixty-seven years old when he left Kush, and the matter was from God, because the appointed end, fixed from the beginning, had arrived: to bring out the children of Israel.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 5:115Legends of the Jews

Forty years wandering the desert. Forty years! And according to tradition, it was all their own fault. Moses, their leader, didn’t hold back as they stood on the cusp of finally entering the Promised Land.

Ginzberg, in his masterful Legends of the Jews, paints a vivid picture of this pivotal moment. Moses, nearing the end of his life, reminds the people why their journey took so long. He points out that had they been righteous, God would have led them to Palestine on the very day they left Egypt!

Moses doesn't stop there. He confronts them with their past transgressions, the sins they committed not just against God, but against him personally. He even recounts how they threw their infants into his lap, demanding, "What food hast thou for these?" Can you imagine the pressure, the sheer desperation in that moment?

What's truly remarkable, though, is the people's reaction. Or rather, their lack of reaction. Ginzberg highlights their silence. They stood and listened as Moses recounted their misdeeds, sins actually committed by their parents' generation – who had since passed on. Yet, they offered no defense, no excuses. What does that say about them? About their piety? About their understanding of collective responsibility?

It's a powerful scene, isn't it? But it’s not all rebuke and regret.

Moses wasn’t just interested in dwelling on the past. He was looking to the future. He knew his time was short. And so, in a final act of leadership, he calls out to the people. "I am near to death," he declares. "Whosoever hath learned from me a verse, a chapter, or a law, let him come to me and learn it anew." for a second. He's not just reminding them of what they already know. He's offering them a chance to solidify their understanding, to internalize the teachings one last time before he's gone.

And then, the legend takes an even more incredible turn. Moses, according to the tradition, proceeds to repeat the entire Torah – the first five books of the Bible – in seventy languages! Why? So that not only the Israelites, but all the nations of the world could hear God's teachings.

It's a powerful image: Moses, the shepherd of his people, becoming a universal teacher in his final moments. What a message of inclusion and universalism! It suggests that God's wisdom isn't just for one chosen people, but for all of humanity.

So, what can we take away from this story? Is it a cautionary tale about the consequences of sin? A reminder of the importance of learning from the past? Or is it something more? Perhaps it's an invitation to embrace our own responsibility, to learn from the wisdom of those who came before us, and to share that wisdom with the world. Perhaps, just perhaps, it's a reminder that even in our imperfections, we can still strive to be better, to do better, and to leave a lasting legacy of goodness and understanding.

Full source
Jasher 73Book of Jasher

It's considered by many to be part of the Apocrypha, a collection of writings of uncertain origin, that elaborates on stories from the Bible and fills in gaps. And Chapter 73 is where things get really interesting.

The chapter opens by telling us that in the 55th year of Pharaoh's reign, which was the 157th year of the Israelites' sojourn in Egypt, Moses was reigning in Cush. He was 27 years old, and he reigned for 40 years! The people of Cush loved him. He was favored by both God and man.

Here's the thing: Cush was in the middle of a long, drawn-out siege of a city. Nine years, no end in sight. The people were desperate. So they came to their new king, Moses, and asked for his counsel. "Give us counsel that we may see what is to be done to this city!" they pleaded.

Moses, ever the strategist, comes up with a plan. But it's not what you'd expect. He tells them to gather young storks from the forest. Every man must bring one back, or face death! Then, they had to raise these storks, teaching them to hunt like hawks. After they were grown, they had to be starved for three days.

Okay, stay with me.

On the third day, Moses orders the men to arm themselves, grab their hungry storks, and ride to the place where the serpents are. And there – this is the key – they released the storks on the snakes. The storks, ravenous after three days of hunger, devoured the serpents.

With the serpent problem solved, the army of Cush stormed the city and took it, losing not a single man. Balaam the magician (yes, that Balaam) fled back to Egypt with his sons and brothers. According to the Book of Jasher, these are the same sorcerers who later opposed Moses during the plagues.

So, Moses wins the city through wisdom and is placed on the throne, replacing the previous king, Kikianus. They even give him Kikianus's widow, Adoniah, as a wife!

But here's where Moses's true character shines through. He feared God and remembered the oaths of his ancestors – Abraham and Isaac, as we are told in the text. They had sworn not to take wives from the Canaanites or make alliances with the children of Ham. The Book of Jasher even states that God gave Ham and his descendants as slaves to the children of Shem and Japheth. So, Moses refuses to consummate the marriage with Adoniah, remaining true to his faith.

Moses strengthens his kingdom, guides the people with wisdom, and prospers. When Aram and the children of the East hear of Kikianus's death, they rebel. Moses gathers an army and defeats them, bringing them under Cushite rule. He governs with righteousness, following in the footsteps of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. "Moses feared the Lord his God all his life, and Moses walked before the Lord in truth, with all his heart and soul."

What's fascinating about this story is how it portrays Moses as a leader before his encounter with the burning bush. It highlights his strategic mind, his piety, and his unwavering commitment to God's law. It’s a glimpse into a Moses we don't typically see in the traditional narrative.

The Book of Jasher, while not canonical, offers a compelling and thought-provoking perspective on biblical figures and events. It reminds us that there are always other stories, other interpretations, waiting to be discovered. And it makes you wonder: what other untold stories are hidden within the vast pattern of Jewish tradition?

Full source
Legends of the Jews 4:102Legends of the Jews

Legends of the Jews turns to Death of Kikanos.

The Legends of the Jews recounts their despair, and it’s palpable. Imagine: nine long years spent away from home, wandering in the wilderness, locked in a seemingly endless siege. Kikanos's death hangs heavy. "Counsel us," they plead, one to another, "what shall we do at this time?"

Their options? Grim. To attack the city meant almost certain death for many. To remain meant slow starvation and the risk of being overwhelmed. "If we fight against the city, many of us will fall dead; and if we remain here besieging it, we shall also die," they lament.

It wasn't just the immediate situation. The potential for a wider conflict loomed. Word of Kikanos's death would spread like wildfire. "For now all the princes of Aram and of the children of the East will hear that our king is dead, and they will attack us suddenly." The consequences? Utter annihilation. "They will fight with us until not a remnant will be left." Can you feel their desperation?

So, what's their answer? Faced with such overwhelming odds, they turn to a familiar solution: leadership. "Now, therefore, let us go and set a king over us." A new leader, they hope, can rally them, give them direction, and perhaps, just perhaps, turn the tide of their misfortune. They would "remain here besieging the city until it surrenders unto us."

It's a very human response, isn't it? In times of crisis, we often look for someone to take charge, to offer a vision, to provide hope. Whether it's a general on the battlefield or a CEO in a struggling company, the search for a leader is often born from the depths of despair.

But does simply anointing a new king solve their problems? Does it erase the years of hardship, the looming threat of annihilation? We'll have to see. What do you think? Can a single individual truly make the difference in the face of such profound adversity? Or is their hope in something beyond a single leader, something perhaps hidden within themselves?

Full source