That damned Antipater-I must have him killed as soon as possible. Even beasts honor their parents, but this creature, lower than any animal, dared to poison his own father. He already enjoyed power and dignity equal to my own, yet still plotted to murder me and seize the throne. What a vicious scheme. If I let him live, he’ll threaten not only the royal family but even the distant emperor.
All this time, my eldest son Antipater has deceived me completely. When Alexander and Aristobulus, my second and third sons, came back from Rome and blamed me for their mother’s death, I thought bringing in their eldest brother would set them straight. But this is how it turned out. Antipater pretended utter loyalty, managed everything for me, and even stood up for his brothers when they complained. Later, I learned it was all an act. If I killed two innocent sons because I was fooled by the eldest... No, that can’t be. They must have done something to deserve death as well. Yes. They deserved it. I gave them everything from childhood, sent them to Rome for the finest education, and supported them so they could befriend powerful families. Yet they showed no gratitude and tried to harm their own father. I punished everyone who sided with them-family, old friends, it didn’t matter. Even now, I believe I did the right thing.
This dynasty was built on the blood and sacrifices of my father, my brothers, and myself. How dare those who contributed nothing covet the throne? It wasn’t just my sons-Hasmonean remnants have been eyeing this seat for years. If I hadn’t survived this long, they’d have taken the kingdom back by now. Hyrcanus, who was close to my father-he treated me like a son, but that gentle man was easily swayed by others. I tried to be patient, but his attempt to flee the country was inexcusable. If he truly had no ambition, he should have lived out his days quietly. Why try to escape at his age? I had no choice but to execute him, whether he was a former king or high priest. It would have been better if he’d died honorably alongside my brother Phasael, when Antigonus bribed the Parthians with a thousand talents and five hundred women. Tsk, tsk... How ironic that I became king of Judea thanks to that same Antigonus-a Hasmonean destroyed by another Hasmonean.
When my brother and Hyrcanus were captured by the Parthians and I was driven to Idumea by Antigonus, not even my own people would help me. I left my family at Masada and set out for Rome. There were dangers at every turn-attacks from Jews, no ship would take me, and even storms after I finally seized one. But I survived every trial and made it to Rome. I was about to ask Antony to make my brother-in-law king, but he told the Senate it would be wiser to make me king to counter Parthia. That’s how I gained the throne, but it took three years of struggle to truly secure it. My older brother took his own life to spare me the burden, and my younger brother died in battle. In the end, I triumphed and executed Antigonus.
Afterward, I married my betrothed, Mariamne, expecting happiness. Even if the Jews were uncooperative, I was already king and had many ways to win their hearts. I was confident I could understand them and win them over. If not for the tragedy with Mariamne, my most beloved wife, things might have turned out that way. Mariamne, a Hasmonean princess, often looked down on others, convinced of her noble blood. Her mother Alexandra was the same-what else could my wife have learned? She disrespected my mother and sister Salome, and slander flew between them. It was enough to give me a headache, but I tried to overlook it. But then Mariamne began to treat me, her husband, with contempt, and later even committed adultery with her uncle. That wretched woman. She swore to God she was innocent, but how could I believe her? What lie wouldn’t a wife who hates her husband tell? I can understand her hatred after I killed her brother, but could I just stand by while the Jews tried to exalt him? Left alone, he would have become another Antigonus. It was only natural to remove such a threat, for the sake of my wife and Judea. Why couldn’t she see that? The order to watch her every move, the command to kill her and her mother if I died-these were acts of love, meant to protect her. Why couldn’t she recognize my devotion?
But in the end, my wife never understood my heart. I had no choice but to kill my father-in-law, Hyrcanus. I also had to kill my wife and her mother. I killed them all to protect this kingdom. I didn’t care what others said, but perhaps everything became tangled from that point on. I even arranged marriages among them, hoping to ease the hatred in the family, but it was all in vain. Husbands and wives fought, brothers fought, mothers-in-law and sons-in-law, fathers-in-law and daughters-in-law, aunts and nephews-everyone at odds. The whole family has gone mad. Whenever I’m with them, I hear nothing but accusations and gossip. Now I’m too weary to even sort out the truth. Maybe it would be easier to just kill them all... No, they’re still family. How could I bring myself to do that?
Even before I executed my two sons, I did everything I could. I tried to understand them, tried to reconcile. Even when I was forced to condemn them after the truth came out, I explained everything to the Roman emperor and would not have killed them without his permission. Look, even now, I only banished my third wife Mariamne, the high priest’s daughter, and Philip, her son, instead of killing them. So how dare they spread such rumors about me? I heard someone claim Augustus said it’s better to be Herod’s pig than his child, but that must be a lie. The emperor values me too much. After all the wealth I’ve sent him, he’d never say such a thing. That can’t be!
“Is anyone there?”
A handsome young man hurried in-a servant who provided both protection and, at times, intimacy.
“Yes, Your Majesty, did you call?”
“I’m thirsty. Bring me some water.”
“At once.”
Seeing him, I’m reminded of Alexander and Aristobulus, who died because of Antipater. My sons were even more handsome than this servant, and carried themselves with dignity. Of course-they were sons of me and a Hasmonean princess. Even the Jews admired them. I did everything I could to mend things between us. I even gave Aristobulus my sister Salome’s daughter as a wife, but it was useless. Not only Antipater, but Salome too played a part in their deaths. All I ever wanted was peace in the family. Why is something so easy for others so impossible for me?
My brother Pheroras deserves credit for exposing Antipater’s plot. After he died of illness, servants accused his wife of poisoning him, so I investigated. But the truth was, Antipater had given my brother Arabian poison to kill me, but my loyal brother refused and told his wife to hide it. When he was dying, he had her burn the poison before his eyes, but she kept some. The whole truth came out under interrogation, and I punished or exiled everyone involved. I stripped Antipater’s mother Doris of her property and banished her, and I exiled the high priest’s daughter Mariamne for keeping silent about the plot. I dismissed the high priest Simon ben Boethus and banished Philip, Mariamne’s son, removing him from the line of succession.
Then I summoned Antipater back from Rome. Had I been any slower, an even greater disaster might have occurred. He had won over powerful Romans and even tried to kill his half-brothers Archelaus and Philip. When I heard rumors that all the Jews hated Antipater, I should have believed them. When he returned, he tried to deceive the court with more lies, but I uncovered the truth and imprisoned him. I’ve sent a letter to Emperor Augustus reporting his wickedness, and as soon as I receive permission, I’ll have him executed.
So who remains as heir? Antipater, son of my first wife Doris, will soon be executed. Alexander and Aristobulus, sons of my second wife Mariamne, are dead. Philip, son of my third wife Mariamne, the high priest’s daughter, has been removed from succession. I have no children from my fourth and fifth wives. From my sixth wife Malthace of Samaria, there are Antipas and Archelaus. From my seventh wife, Cleopatra of Jerusalem, I have two sons: Herod and Philip. Antipas, Archelaus, and Philip are all being educated in Rome. From my eighth wife Pallas, there is Phasael, and from my ninth and tenth wives, only daughters. Among my grandchildren, there’s Agrippa, son of Aristobulus, but I’m more impressed by his sister Herodias. She didn’t show a single tear at her father’s death. She seems remarkable, but I’ve already married her off to the exiled Philip, so that’s her limit.
Of them all, Antipas is the most promising. But if he proves disappointing, I may give the throne to someone else-or perhaps divide the kingdom. I’ll leave some cities to my sister Salome, the only family I have left after the deaths of my parents, older brother, and two younger brothers. Salome may seem to get along with me, but she can turn against me in an instant and constantly quarrels with my wives. Whoever inherits the kingdom will face endless struggles because of their troubled relationship with her-and in the end, Salome herself will not come out unscathed. I’ll set aside some cities for her, provide enough wealth for my other relatives, and send generous gifts to the emperor and his wife in Rome, in gratitude for making me king. Will that bring stability to this land?
I work tirelessly for Judea, but these foolish Jews don’t see it. They don’t understand that my efforts to please Rome, my lavish gifts and careful diplomacy, are all for Judea’s peace. Law is important, but not more than survival. Don’t they see why I dedicated an eagle statue at the temple entrance? The eagle, symbol of Rome’s might, is there to show that Rome protects us, so our nation and temple can endure. Some call it an image forbidden by God, but I won’t tolerate such talk. There are scholars who say images not meant for worship are permitted-how dare they claim only their interpretation is right? In these times, righteousness lies in power and politics, not in religion.
Do the Jews even realize how much respect I command in Rome? Do they see how skillfully I protect Judea through politics? When I completed Caesarea, why else would I spend so much to build a city and host festivals? The games, duels, beast fights, races, shows-all dedicated to Caesar-are political acts. Everyone but the Jews acknowledges my skill. Even Augustus and Agrippa have said I’m fit to rule all Syria and Egypt.
My support for foreign lands was for Judea’s benefit. I built the Temple of Apollo in Rhodes, public buildings in Nicopolis, and colonnades in Antioch. I made it possible for the Olympic Games to take place again with my financial support, and I brought new life and glory back to them. Envoys from many nations came to celebrate at Caesarea’s festival-proof of my achievement.
All of this is politics, all for the kingdom. Yet they slander me just because taxes are a bit high? How can they betray me after all I’ve done? I don’t ask for much-just to be treated with the goodwill I show others. It’s easy to build such relationships with foreigners. Didn’t both Antony and Augustus call me their closest friend? Yet only the Jews are stubborn. They claim to value righteousness over glory, but don’t they see that this so-called righteousness has led them to ruin?
Only the Jews are blind to their special treatment. Do they know how many foreigners resent them for their stubbornness abroad? Julius Caesar, Antony, and now Augustus have all issued edicts protecting Jews and their laws. They’re even exempt from military service for the Sabbath. Yet they take it for granted and call it God’s grace, never realizing how hard I worked for their sake.
Who helped when famine struck after earthquakes and droughts? It was me. With no grain, no livestock, I sold the palace’s gold and silver to buy food. I gave grain to those who could cook, and bread to those who couldn’t. I even provided clothing so they could survive the winter. Without me, they’d all have perished. And it’s me who’s making the temple more magnificent than any building in the world. When I proposed rebuilding the war-damaged temple, the Jews opposed it, not me. They worried what would happen if we couldn’t finish after removing the foundation. In the end, I even had to make a speech I didn’t mean, saying I’d rebuild the temple to thank God. The Jews were moved-so gullible, believing anything said in God’s name. Of course, I believe in God too. How else could I have become king? But I also believe there are other gods. And Rome is now the world’s center. Without Rome, I’d never have become king. If we ignore Rome, disaster will come.
These foolish Jews ignore reality and talk only of the law. Even if I built temples to foreign gods, I did it outside Judea. What’s wrong with building temples for the people of those lands? It’s all politics. Yet they nitpick the law and cause trouble over every detail. The anti-bandit law is the same. Isn’t it good to expel robbers, even if it bends the law a little? Think of the peace it’s brought.
Disgusted by all this, I’ve sometimes barred gatherings and executed troublemakers to keep order. But who knows when the Jews will erupt again? They try so hard to obey the law-why won’t they obey me? Someday, that law will be their downfall.
The Sadducees know to bow their heads, but the Pharisees are the worst. All they do is shout about the law. I don’t understand why the people believe only their interpretation. The only ones I respect are the Essenes. When I was a boy, Menahem of the Essenes prophesied I would become king-and I did. He told me to fear God, do justice, and treat people kindly. I think I’ve done plenty of that, so why do I suffer so much? Is God remembering my sins to judge me, as Menahem warned?
No, I’ve done nothing wrong. It’s the Jews who are the problem. My son, the Jews-they’re all after my kingdom. Such people must be rooted out completely. They won’t shed a single tear when I die. Yes, when the time comes, I’ll have my revenge. I will not die alone. I’ll make all of Judea mourn.
“Your Majesty.”
“What is it?”
“There’s a strange rumor in the city.”
“What rumor?”
“Foreigners are asking if the Messiah has been born. They seem to be from Parthia.”
“What? Messiah? Parthia?”
The Parthians who killed my brother are searching for the Messiah, the king of the Jews?
“Bring them to me.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Let them come-Messiah or Parthians. I built this kingdom with my own hands. How dare they try to take it from me?
Nightmarish memories overwhelmed Herod: the deaths of his siblings, the endless family strife. All of it seemed to have happened because of them. Herod was convinced of his own innocence.
He had become king as Menahem prophesied and wielded great power, but he never realized this too was part of God’s plan. God had raised him up, a king who neither feared God nor hesitated to burden his people, in order to fulfill the prophecy of the Messiah’s coming. An evil servant, raised for evil deeds. As always, God used such a man to judge Israel’s sins. And after judging Israel, God would judge Herod’s sins as well. Unless he truly repented, that judgment would surely come.
This account is based on the life of Herod as recorded in ancient Jewish history, narrated from Herod’s personal perspective.
Listen to the audiobook now.
