Did Daniel Write Daniel?
As with many of the books in the Old Testament, interpretation of the Book of Daniel is beset by questions of pseudonymity and historicity vis-à-vis the book’s author, its characters, and events. Did all of the characters described actually exist? If so, did they act and interact in history in the same way they do in the biblical narrative? If not, how do we account for these discrepancies? Is the eponymous hero of the book the author of any of it? In the case of the individual stories in the Book of Daniel, the fourth chapter’s1 tale of Nebuchadnezzar’s humiliation and subsequent enlightenment seems a tailor-made subject for these perennial exegetical questions.
Any review of the literature will soon reveal a near unanimity within OT scholarship with regards to the historicity of Daniel 4. In a word, it is seen as threadbare at best. That there was a great Babylonian ruler named Nebuchadnezzar (605–562 BCE), who overthrew Jerusalem in 597 and initiated the first deportation of its inhabitants – of which Daniel is said to be a member (1:3–7) – is the extent of the undisputed historical material.2 It is from these meagre strands of facts that the pseudonymous historiography of Daniel 4 is believed by scholars to have been woven into an ageless morality tale glorifying “the Most High God” of Israel and his absolute sovereignty over the whole world of mortal men and monarchs (4:2–3).3
The discussion below will revolve around the interpretative questions above as they relate to the fourth chapter of the Book of Daniel. The first part of the discussion will explore the chapter’s disparate Aramaic and Greek textual traditions. Then in the second part the questions of pseudonymity and historicity will be examined around the chapter’s protagonist and antagonist, Daniel and Nebuchadnezzar respectively, touching on the possible reasons behind the ahistorical literary choices made in the crafting of Daniel 4.
The Aramaic and Greek Traditions
In order to answer our questions, it is not enough to simply focus on the canonical translation of the Aramaic of Daniel 4 as it is found in our common English Bibles. We must cast our gaze wider and consider the rich varied textual history of the chapter’s Old Greek-based (OG) deuterocanonical additions. The tradition that produced these sub-canonical passages rounds out what Henze calls “the literary history of the Daniel cycle,”4 and any attempted understanding of our chapter would be embarrassingly incomplete ignoring it. As Newsom says, “The OG is particularly important for understanding the development of the book of Daniel, especially chs. 4–6 ....”5
The canonical form of the entire book is peculiarly unique among the books of the Hebrew Bible in that it is nearly evenly bilingual, with roughly half of it written in Hebrew and half of it written in Aramaic.6 The wider textual tradition of Daniel, on the other hand, is even more peculiarly unique in that it is trilingual, incorporating as it does the transmission history of the OG version, too. The final product of the Aramaic and Hebrew traditions of the OT has resulted in the Masoretic Text, represented by “the diplomatic edition of the HB that is published as Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia.”7 The OG tradition, on the other hand, has culminated in the Septuagint version.Some interpretive caution regarding these final versions is warranted. While both the MT and LXX are reliable witnesses to a Vorlage within their individual traditions, neither can claim to be witnesses to the autographs behind these Vorlagen.8 It must be remembered that the MT is based on a single “codex from Ben Asher that is dated to 1008 C.E.,”9 which is not enough evidence in itself to “make [the MT] equivalent to the Hebrew Bible.”10 It is, however, a faithful witness to the Semitic Daniel tradition of “the late second or early first century B.C.E.,” judging by that book’s agreement with the Qumranic fragments of the Dead Sea Scroll manuscripts discovered in the late 1940s.11
Unhelpfully, the term “Septuagint” can often be misapplied by non-specialists to refer to translations of Hebrew books or manuscripts that do not necessarily “represent the original reading for that book that can be critically reconstructed using textual criticism.”12 Furthermore, the three additional passages of Greek Daniel, “which have no counterpart in the canonical text,”13 make deuterocanonical Daniel “almost fifty percent longer than [MT Daniel].”14
The LXX form also followed a different transmission path than the rest of the Greek OT. “Somewhere in the history of the Greek Bible the LXX of Daniel was replaced by θ [Th15], which is much closer to the [wording of the] MT, as the authoritative Greek version.”16 One consequence of this replacement was the favouring of Th Daniel manuscripts over OG ones; resulting in an abundance of the former and a paucity of the latter.17 This replacement further complicates all of the text-critical debates involving MT Daniel and OG Daniel, because similar debates surround LXX Daniel and Th Daniel. So, while the terms MT, LXX and OG are used below to refer generally to the Hebrew/Aramaic and Greek texts of Daniel, they are done so in full knowledge of the wide text-critical gulf they each span.18
Daniel as Author
Admittedly, on the question of authorship, talk of different textual traditions and Daniel cycles all but presupposes pseudonymity. It is fair to say that nearly all of the evidence – internal, intertextual, and external – overwhelms the presumption of the naïve contemporary reader that the book is a sixth century B.C.E. compilation of “stories about and writings by the figure of Daniel himself.”19 The text does not even make this claim in its first five chapters, written as they are in the third person. Given the compelling nature of the preponderance of the evidence, from the Enlightenment on, the number of voices in scholarship supporting a single, sixth century author – never mind one named Daniel – has dwindled away into statistical insignificance.
Ironically, the first sections of the book to be accepted by nineteenth century scholarship as, at best, pseudepigraphical were the first person apocalypses of chapters 7–12. This was owing initially to the previous century’s critics' heightened scepticism of things like the prophetic accuracy of chapter 11 being tellingly limited to the historical events leading up to the reign of Antiochus IV Epiphanes (175–164 B.C.E.).20 The chapter's sudden prophetic blindness after that time strongly suggested to less conservative scholars that authorial hindsight from the second century B.C.E. produced this material, rather than the divinely-inspired sixth century foresight proposed by the text.21 As Gurney notes, the descriptions in chapters 2 and 7 of “the fourth kingdom is so detailed and accurate a picture of the Greek empire, that radical [or liberal] scholars believe the author lived during the time of that empire after the events had taken place.”22
Of course, these authorial arguments from the internal historical knowledge of the text cut both ways, given that Daniel’s “knowledge of Babylonian history is unequalled by later authors.”23 It seems that, from all of the known, post-sixth century documents, there would have been an insufficient amount of historical material available to a second century author to create so detailed a work as the one in Daniel 5.24 For her part, Newsom, who maintains that most contemporary scholars accept the gradual composition theory of development for Daniel, allows that several of the narrative stories in 2–5 could have originated in the Neo-Babylonian period.25 Collins insists that not only does the concern around dietary observance hinted at in chapter 1 “not require a date in the time of Antiochus Epiphanes,”26 the optimism that same chapter displays for the ability of Jews to prosper under a pagan king “would be unlikely during the Maccabean crisis.”27 Goldingay asserts that “there are no concrete indications that Dan 4 was composed in Greco-Roman Palestine; the eastern dispersion is the more natural context.”28
Daniel as Protagonist
Certainty with regards to the figure of Daniel proves just as elusive an achievement as it does with regards to the composition history of the book attributed to him. There is simply no proof, one way or the other, as to there being an actual diaspora Judean councillor to one of the imperial Babylonian rulers. But just like the compilation history, we can make confident assertions based on the conclusions to which the preponderance of the evidence points. As we shall see below, any honest weighing of this evidence will lead one to conclude that the protagonist in Daniel 4 is a literary composite of the iconic Daniel of Ezekiel (14:14, 20; 28:3) and the exceptionally wise Daniel who appears in the many extra-biblical myths circulating throughout ancient Syria-Palestine.29
Hartman and Di Lella tell us that the name Daniel [דָּנִיֵּאל], in Hebrew and Aramaic, can mean either “God has judged” or “My judge is God;”30 Lacocque suggests that it “signifies ‘God is the defender of my right.’”31 Outside of the Book of Daniel, the name appears six times in the BHS, albeit with variant spelling and pointing.32 Three of these are of little significance, as they are otherwise unremarkable Daniels mentioned on various lists with other names (1 Chr 3:1; Ezra 8:2; Neh 10:6). The three Ezekiel mentions (Ezek 14:14, 20; 28:3), on the other hand, form the Semitic kernel around which the name Daniel developed an “associat[ion] with outstanding righteousness and surpassing wisdom.”33
Interestingly, the references in Ezekiel are to two non-Israelites. The first two group Daniel with Noah and Job, each of whom “is an idealized figure belonging to a wider sphere of ancient Near Eastern tradition.”34 The context of the mention in 28:3 strongly suggests that the Daniel referred to was “a proverbial figure of wisdom … widely recognized throughout Syria-Palestine;”35 possibly a popular king named “Dnil” or “Dan(i)el” found in 14th century Ugaritic literature.36 Considering all of these pagan legends together with the deuterocanonical stories and the non-scriptural tales about an “Israelite seer who was noted for his heaven-sent gifts of dream interpretation, general sagacity, and unimpeachable integrity,”37 it is easy to see why such an auspicious name was chosen for the protagonist of a book like Daniel.
Nebuchadnezzar as King
Although it was noted above that, for the most part, the historicity of the setting, characters and events of Daniel 4 is uniformly rejected by the majority of modern scholars, not every aspect of these details is mere literary verisimilitude. Two pivotal instances of setting and characterisation in particular “[are] well borne out by the historical record”38 of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign: His comfortable prosperity in verse 4; and the description of Babylon and his prideful boasting over his creation of it in verses 28–30. Regarding the first, Miller explains that “the Aramaic word šĕlēh [שְׁלֵה,“at ease”] … convey[s] both contentment and security. ‘Prosper[ing]’ renders the Aramaic raʿĕnan [רַעֲנַן], ‘flourishing,’ and corresponds to the biblical Hebrew raʿănān [רַעֲנָן], ‘luxuriant,’ which is used to describe luxuriant or flourishing trees.”39 The picture these words paint is “of the successful and satisfied potentate,”40 which perfectly illustrates the historical Nebuchadnezzar at “the pinnacle of achievement.”41 As for Babylon and Nebuchadnezzar in verse 30, Hartman and Di Lella confirm that the city was “one of the largest and most magnificent … in the ancient world [which] owed most of its splendor [to Nebuchadnezzar],”42 adding that “several of [Nebuchadnezzar’s] cuneiform inscriptions are preserved in which he boasts of the great buildings that he erected there.”43
However, two relatively small historically correct details in a single chapter do little to ameliorate the damage done to the historicity of the whole book by the larger foundational inconsistencies inherent in the explicit chronological statements made throughout it. The first of these statements occurs immediately in the first verse of chapter 1 and concerns Nebuchadnezzar’s siege of Jerusalem. Henze, after reviewing the historical record, and comparing that to the dates referenced in Jeremiah 46:2, 2 Kings 23:36, and 2 Chronicles 36:5–8 of this event, concludes that “the statement that Nebuchadnezzar besieged Jerusalem in the third year of Jehoiakim’s reign runs counter to any plausible reconstruction of the course of events and must be viewed as historically inaccurate.”44 While this detail on its own is more damning of the book’s loose editorial method than it is of its historicity, it is the first domino in a series whose cumulative fall does much to undermine the technical veracity of the entire work.
The next chronological problem involves chapter 1, but is encountered in the first verse of chapter 2. The statement that Daniel interpreted Nebuchadnezzar’s dream in “the second year of [his] reign” is a flat contradiction of the timings given in the previous chapter, where we are told that Daniel was deported to Babylonia during Nebuchadnezzar’s reign, given three years of education, and then brought to the king for the first time (1:1–6, 18). Obviously, Daniel could not have had two first audiences with Nebuchadnezzar. Multiple solutions to this problem have been carried out and/or hypothesised by scribes and scholars from, at least, very early in the Common Era.45 For example, in Papyrus 967, a third century C. E. OG manuscript, the scribe simply replaced “second year” with “twelfth year.”46 A century later, Chrysostom (c. 349–407) decided that the phrase “second year” was nonsense and declared unilaterally that the original text had said “twelfth.”47 Most of the theories have proved similarly unsatisfying, often requiring too many unprovable assumptions be made by the interpreter.48 Henze correctly suggests the least complicated explanation is that the two chapters were indeed written independently of one another and, when they were brought together, “[t]he final redactor … did not bother to harmonize the texts.”49 At the end of the day, we might just have to accept the fact that there is an error in the timeline recorded in a book of inspired Scripture.
A related curiosity in the dating of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign occurs in the LXX of Daniel 4. Although the Greek chapter begins at the same verse as the MT (English 4:4), it inserts a phrase unknown in the Aramaic text: “Of the eighteenth year of the kingdom of Nebouchodonosor” (Ἔτους ὀκτωκαιδεκάτου τῆς βασιλείας Ναβουχοδονοσορ) – an obvious Greek variant of Nebuchadnezzar. This same date is attached to LXX 3:1, which is likewise unknown in the Aramaic text. To Meadowcroft, this random dating “seems like a conscious attempt … to link both stories [the fiery furnace and the madness of Nebuchadnezzar] with each other and the events described in Jeremiah 52 [the sacking of Jerusalem].”50 If this is so, then, whether in ignorance or not, it was done at the expense of the chronological veracity, such as it is, of chapters 1 and 2 as discussed above, thereby furthering the erosion of the historicity of the entire book. Furthermore, regardless of the actual reason for these insertions, editorial licence to this degree is yet more evidence that the ancient redactors and translators were not averse to placing their literary goals ahead of any supposed scribal fealty to the forms and Vorlagen of highly esteemed (and possibly sacred) works.
Nebuchadnezzar as Antagonist
The prioritising of literary intent also helps to explain the idiosyncratic and ultimately favourable presentation of the figure of Nebuchadnezzar in the book of Daniel generally, and in chapter 4 specifically, relative to his treatment by other OT authors and many Jewish folklorists.51 In the protracted and oft lamentable annals of Jewish history, Nebuchadnezzar, as the conqueror of Jerusalem, torturer of the last King of Judah, and architect of the first Babylonian exile, has long been “considered one of the major villains.”52 For this reason, from antiquity, many of the writers have puzzled over the book of Daniel’s narrative frame offering such a positive portrayal of Nebuchadnezzar, and its “surprising failure to condemn the Babylonian tyrant”53 – a monumental dereliction, particularly in light of the two full chapters of terrifying and eternal judgement Jeremiah brings down upon Nebuchadnezzar, his kingdom, and the land of Babylonia (Jer 50–51).
Saying that the ultimate presentation of the king is favourable in Daniel is not to accuse the book of whitewashing Nebuchadnezzar’s negative character traits altogether. No, Nebuchadnezzar “is not the typical servant of the LORD we know from other books of the Hebrew Bible. He remains the fickle tyrant with his good and bad days.”54 The historical king’s known bloodthirstiness is vividly portrayed in the punishments that the Danielic Nebuchadnezzar devises for, and carries out on, those who displease him (2:5; 3:6); even his sudden fits of irrational rage are shown (2:12; 3:19). But these warts-and-all portrayals render the lack of condemnation all the more suspicious.55 As does the concern Daniel seems to show for Nebuchadnezzar’s feelings when he hesitates to reveal the disturbing meaning of the dream to him, and then does so almost apologetically (v. 19).56 Of course, a case could be made that Daniel was simply afraid of the king’s temper, but that would not account for his offering Nebuchadnezzar advice on how to avoid, or at least forestall, the inevitable punishment (4:27).
It is difficult to avoid the conclusion that the redactor of Daniel was serving an overriding motive in his portraying such an unlikely and counter-intuitive relationship between a righteous Jewish slave and his tyrannical Gentile master. For Henke, the editorial motive at play here is literary consistency to a narrative pattern of Jewish diasporic court tale, along the lines of the Book of Esther and the Genesis story of Joseph.57 In these standardized tales, the Jewish protagonist maintains friendly relations with the Gentile monarchs, but is always taken as an enemy by the actual antagonists, other non-Jewish members of the king’s court, as “with Haman in the case of Esther, with Potiphar and his wife in the Joseph story, and with the Chaldeans in Daniel.”58 Whatever the ultimate merits of this particular theory prove to be, the very fact that the characterisation of Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel provoked its creation is more evidence supporting scholarship’s claims that the book’s composition owes more to literary imagination, than it does historical reportage.
Nebuchadnezzar as Nabonidus
It would not be intemperate to assert that the greatest weakness in the historicity of chapter 4 is the lack of either intertextual or external confirmation of the exile and clinical lycanthropy inflicted upon Nebuchadnezzar, by God, as a punishment for his pride. The absence of such proof fuelled speculation about a different character from history upon whose experiences the events of Daniel 4 might have been based. As Hartman and Di Lella explain, “After the publication of the ‘Nabonidus Chronicle’ … in 1882 …, there was a growing suspicion that … the insane king was not Nebuchadnezzar II …, but his fourth successor, Nabonidus (556–539 B.C.).”59
The Chronicle records several instances where “Nabonidus the king (stayed) in Tema [or, as Henze has it, Teima, a remote “oasis in the Arabian desert,”60],”61 for many months at a time.62In light of subsequent biographical information on Nabonidus pieced together from different archaeological finds, a similarly prolonged stay in Teima (personally recounted by Nabonidus himself in the Harran stelae63) was eventually surmised to be the basis for the period of time Nebuchadnezzar was “driven away from human society” (v. 32).64 The idea that Nabonidus was driven away because of illness, albeit not mental illness, is given extra weight by “The Prayer of Nabonidus” recorded on a Qumranic papyrus fragment written early in the first century B.C.E., although possibly based on an older folk tale.65 In this manuscript, Nabonidus is said to have been laid up in Teima for seven years, “with a bad inflammation,”66 until he confessed to the sin of idolatry and was sent a Jewish soothsayer who “wrote ([him]) to render honor and g[reat glor]y to the name of the [Most High God].”67
A number of other biographical details of Nabonidus more closely resemble those of Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel, than do those of the real Nebuchadnezzar of history. For example, it was known that “Nabonidus [was] preoccupied with dreams more than any other Babylonian … king”68 – a significant fact, given that Nebuchadnezzar’s dreams are a prominent feature of the Daniel stories and the diasporic tales mentioned above.69
Another significant fact about Nabonidus relative to the Book of Daniel is the name of his son, Bel-sarra-usur (Belshazzar), discovered in 1854 inscribed on a cylinder during a dig at “Ur of the Chaldeans” (Gen 11:28, 31; 15:7), and hitherto unknown.70 So Belshazzar was not the son of Nebuchadnezzar as Daniel 5 has it (vv. 2, 11, 18), but the son and co-regent of Nabonidus, who would leave him in charge when he went to Teima.71 Further to this, the Nabonidus Chronical confirms that Nabonidus was away from the capital when “the army of Cyrus entered Babylon without battle,”72 thereby ending the reign of the last Babylonian king; another close parallel with the account of Nebuchadnezzar and his court in the Book of Daniel.
Conclusion
Regarding the Nebuchadnezzar of Daniel 4 then, it seems reasonable to conclude that he is a literary composite of the historical Nebuchadnezzar and his successor Nabonidus. ANE mythologizing, ethnocentric hagiography and the universal love of a good story all combined to produce a worthy Gentile foe for the righteous Jewish hero to convert to the God of Israel. As to whether this hero actually existed in the courts of either Nebuchadnezzar or Nabonidus, we cannot know to an absolute certainty. However, the preponderance of the extra-biblical evidence does strongly suggest the great Israelite prophet of Babylon is a postexilic literary creation, too. Ironically, it is the auspicious name of the story’s hero that is the strongest evidence against the Daniel of Daniel being genuine. It is just far too improbable that such a significant and noteworthy figure in the final days of the Babylonian empire could have evaporated so completely from the historical record.
This is not to say that the prophet Daniel did not exist at all, nor does it imply that the core prophecies included in the book of Daniel are false and were not made by him. It is simply to say that we are compelled to conclude, by the evidence, that the characters and form of Daniel 4 are the product of a combination of early seminal authorship, later additions, and a final second century redaction; with there being little to no chance that the prophet Daniel had any hand in its construction.
2. For example, compare Louis Francis Hartman and Alexander A. Di Lella, eds., The Book of Daniel, AB 23 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008), 34; Stephen R. Miller, Daniel, NAC (Nashville, TN: B & H, 1994), 56–57; D. J. Wiseman, “Nebuchadrezzar, Nebuchadnezzar,” in New Bible Dictionary, ed. D. R. W. Wood and I. Howard Marshall (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 1996), 810.
3. As Hartman and Di Lella, The Book of Daniel, 31, note “… the Book of Daniel was not written … to convey real history. Rather the book merely employs a commonly accepted ‘historical framework’ as the setting for its inspired narratives and apocalyptic visions.”
4. Matthias Henze, The Madness of King Nebuchadnezzar: The Ancient Near Eastern Origins and Early History of Interpretation of Daniel 4 (Boston: Brill, 1999), 18.
5. Carol A. Newsom, Daniel: A Commentary (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2014), 5.
6. Hartman and Di Lella, The Book of Daniel, 10.
7. R. Timothy McLay, The Use of the Septuagint in New Testament Research (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003), 7.
8. See Ibid., 5–14; T. J. Meadowcroft, Aramaic Daniel and Greek Daniel: A Literary Comparison (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1995), 15–30; R. Timothy McLay, “The Old Greek Translation of Daniel IV-VI and the Formation of the Book of Daniel,” VT 55 (2005): 304–323.
9. McLay, The Use of the Septuagint, 7.
10. Ibid.
11. Newsom, Daniel, 3–4.
12. McLay, The Use of the Septuagint, 6.
13. Carey A. Moore, ed., Daniel, Esther, and Jeremiah: The Additions, 1st ed., AB 44 (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1977), 23. These passages are usually referred to as “The Prayer of Azariah and Song of the Three Young Men” (3:24-90 LXX), “Susanna” (13 LXX), and “Bel and the Dragon” (14 LXX).
14. Henze, The Madness, 19.
15. See fn. 1, McLay, “The Old Greek,” 304. “The Term Theodotion is employed for convenience. The Theodotion version of Daniel was known to the New Testament writers, so it could not have been written by a putative second century person known by that name.”
16. Meadowcroft, Aramaic Daniel and Greek Daniel, 15. According to Henze, The Madness of King Nebuchadnezzar, 40, “both versions have preserved double literary editions, or duplicate narratives, of the same story. They developed independently out of a common form of the story no longer extant.” Interestingly, McLay, “The Old Greek,” 323, insists “that the reason for common reading between the OG and Th [θ] is the pervasive corruption of the OG with Th readings.”
17. Newsom, Daniel, 4.
18. For a much more detailed overview, see section “XI Text and Versions” in Hartman and Di Lella, The Book of Daniel, 72.
19. Newsom, Daniel, 6.
20. “… at which point [the Danielic “prophecy”] diverged sharply from what was known of historical events.” This limited predictive accuracy concerning chapter 11 was mentioned by the ancient pagan writer Porphyry (ca. 234-305 C.E.). Ibid., 6–7.
21. Gordon J. Wenham, “Daniel: The Basic Issues,” Themelios 2 (1977): 50.
22. Furthermore, “the visions of chapters 8, 11 and 12, where the Persian and Greek empires and Antiochus Epiphanes are described, the descriptions corresponding very closely indeed to those of the third and fourth kingdoms and the ‘little horn’ in chapters 2 and 7.” Robert J. M. Gurney, “The Four Kingdoms of Daniel 2 and 7,” Themelios 2 (1977): 41.
23. Italics in original. Wenham, “Daniel: The Basic Issues,” 50.
24. Ibid.
25. Newsom, Daniel, 7–9.
26. John J. Collins, Daniel: With an Introduction to Apocalyptic Literature (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1984), 45.
27. Collins goes on to suggest that “It is possible that the characterization of Daniel and his companions as noble youths who receive an extensive education is an idealized projection of the author’s own circle.” Ibid., 45–46.
28. John Goldingay, Daniel, WBC 30 (Waco, TX: Word, 1989), 86; a compelling technical case is also made by A. R. Millard, “Daniel 1-6 and History,” EvQ 49 (1977): 67–73.
29. Hartman and Di Lella, The Book of Daniel, 7–8; André Lacocque, The Book of Daniel (Atlanta: John Knox, 1979), 2–4.
30. Hartman and Di Lella, The Book of Daniel, 7.
31. Lacocque, The Book of Daniel, 3.
32. It appears 29 times in Aramaic Daniel and 46 times in Hebrew Daniel. Lacocque advises that Daniel is “spelled without the yod in Ezekiel. But it was read ‘Daniel’ however; see the Greek transcription and the attestation of a Mari text of the 18th cent.” See fn. 1, ibid.
33. Hartman and Di Lella, The Book of Daniel, 8.
34. Ibid., 7.
35. Ibid.
36. Ibid., 7–8; Lacocque, The Book of Daniel, 3.
37. Hartman and Di Lella, The Book of Daniel, 8.
38. Robert A. Anderson, Signs and Wonders: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel, ITC (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1984), 40.
39. Miller, Daniel, 140.
40. Anderson, Signs and Wonders, 40.
41. Ibid.
42. Hartman and Di Lella, The Book of Daniel, 177–178.
43. Ibid., 178.
44. Henze, The Madness, 52–53.
45. Ibid., 54.
46. Ibid.
47. Ibid.
48. Ibid., 54–55.
49. Ibid., 55.
50. Meadowcroft, Aramaic Daniel and Greek Daniel, 157. LXX Jeremiah supplies the month and day only and mentions “Nebuzaradan” but not Nebuchadnezzar. The MT records “the nineteenth year” of the king, but misspells his name “Nebuchadrezzar.” The parallel passage in LXX 2 Kings 25:8 contains the year, but the phrase is text-critically suspicious.
51. Josiah Derby, “A Fresh Look at Nebuchadnezzar,” JBQ 28 (2000): 185; Henze, The Madness, 55; Klaas A. D. Smelik, “My Servant Nebuchadnezzar,” VT 64 (2014): 128–129.
52. Derby, “A Fresh Look,” 185.
53. Henze, The Madness, 55.
54. Smelik, “My Servant,” 128.
55. Coxon offers some historically grounded push-back on the Danielic portrayal of Nebuchadnezzar as irrational and injudicious; providing more evidence of editorializing by the redactors, if correct. See Peter W. Coxon, “Nebuchadnezzar’s Hermeneutical Dilemma,” JSOT 20 (1995): 87–97.
56. Henze, The Madness, 55.
57. Ibid., 36.
58. Ibid., 56–57.
59. Nabonidus is the Greco-Roman form of the Akkadian Nabunaid. Hartman and Di Lella, The Book of Daniel, 178.
60. Henze, The Madness, 58.
61. James Bennett Pritchard, ed., Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament, 3rd ed. (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1992), 306.
62. Ibid., 305–307.
63. Goldingay, Daniel, 159. These stelae were published in 1959.
64. The longer stay was for “a full decade.” Henze, The Madness, 58–67.
65. Hartman and Di Lella, The Book of Daniel, 178–179, print a full translation of the Prayer.
66. Ibid., 178.
67. Ibid., 178–179.
68. R. H. Sack, Images of Nebuchadnezzar: The Emergence of a Legend (Selinsgrove, PA,: Susquehanna University Press, 1991), 100, quoted in Henze, The Madness, 57.
69. Ibid.
70. Ibid., 57–58.
71. Ibid., 56–57
72. Pritchard, Ancient Near Eastern Texts, 306.
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