On the battlefield

The Last Straw: The good news for Irish soccer is that today is the Jewish feast of Purim, traditionally marked by the presentation of charitable gifts. The bad news is that the feast celebrates an event in 473 BC when the Jews foiled a plot against them by "Haman, the son of Hammedatha the Agadite".

They first hanged Haman along with his 10 heirs, and in a follow-up operation, they "slew of their foes another seventy and five thousand". Only then did the gift-giving commemoration start, as the Bible tells us: "And the decree of Esther confirmed these matters of Purim; and it was written in the book." (Esther 9:32).

So, mixed omens there. But bear with me while I return to my recent trip to Israel. As you may have guessed from the foregoing, I'm still reading the Rough Guide to the Middle-East (King James Version, with Apocrypha) and retracing my itinerary in print. An itinerary that included a visit to the famous Plain of Armageddon.

Armageddon is like a larger, flatter version of the Curragh, except that its best-known equestrian personalities are the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, none of whom featured at the recent Cheltenham festival. So ominous is this valley's name that, driving across it, you half expect to see the aforementioned jockeys out exercising their mounts in preparation for the last battle between good and evil. In this sense, it was a disappointment. The only sense of impending doom I experienced, as on all Israeli roads, was inspired by the way people drive.

Maybe it's a Monaghan thing, but what struck me most forcibly about Armageddon is what great farmland it is. It was a fertile plain even in biblical times, apparently. But the fact that it was so wide and flat also made it popular as a theatre of war. It was here that Gideon defeated the Midianites and Amalikites (Judges 6:33). Here too the Egyptians slew King Josiah (2 Kings 23: 29). And here that Jehu smote the armies of Jezebel. Not content with mere smiting, in fact, Jehu went so far as to trod Jezebel herself under the feet of his horses (2 Kings 9: 33).

I couldn't help wondering if, what with the area's unfortunate history and the threat of apocalypse hanging over it, maybe you could pick up a few acres there cheap. But apparently not. According to my guide, Reuven, most of the land is government-owned and farmed collectively by the kibbutz movement. He should know, because he spent 25 years in the movement himself, raising a family of five. It was "a wonderful way to bring up kids" he told me. And judging by the frequency with which they rang him on his mobile, the kibbutzim's famous communal child-rearing didn't weaken the family bonds much.

Another thing that a visit to Israel impressed upon me is how absurdly tiny an area the events of the Bible happened in. You know from maps this is a small country. But so resonant are the place-names that it's still a shock to find them clustered together, like suburbs of Dublin. We were driving north through Armageddon, for example, in an area which - for the sake of perspective - we'll call Cabinteely. Whereupon Reuven pointed to an urban settlement on a hill ahead of us - about where Killiney would be - and said: "That's Nazareth."

The whole Bible is really a glorified local history. Obviously, distances seemed much greater back then. But people and events are also described on epic scale, which can't have borne much relation to reality. Clearly, some of the kings that clutter the Old Testament were small-town chancers, and their wars were minor skirmishes that got added to in the retelling.

Roy Keane would have been big in the Old Testament, you sense. He'd probably have had a book named after him, detailing his eye-for-an-eye, knee-ligament-for-a-knee- ligament approach to dispensing justice. Not to mention his fundamentalist laws on issues such as corporate-box dining: "Eat ye not the prawn sandwich, for it is an abomination, and anyone who toucheth it is unclean." Here's a short reading, with my prediction for the match: "It was in the 34rd year of the reign of Roy, son of Mossie, the Mayfieldite; when the tribes of Hibernia fell upon the children of Israel at a place called Ramat Gan. And lo, the Israelites did have the upper hand in early exchanges, so that Roy was sore displeased. Then he saith unto his fellow tribesmen: 'wherefore is thy effin' pride?' And verily he showeth them the way, smiting a number Israelites from behind. When asked, he confirmed his name unto the referee. And it was written in the book." (Roy 6:23).