Journal articles on the topic 'Paul Within Judaism'

The comparative study of Paul and the rabbis, an interest of students of the New Testament ever since Christian Hebraism, radically changed in the second half of the twentieth century. If “the study of relations between Judaism and early Christianity, perhaps more than any other area of modern scholarship, has felt the impact of World War II and its aftermath,” then, within this, Pauline scholarship has felt this impact the most. Various post-Holocaust studies read Paul not only in connection to early Judaism but specifically to rabbinic Judaism, which they saw as the epitome of both halakhic and Midrashic discourses. Turning to Tannaitic and Amoraic literatures expressed an urgent need to recontextualize Paul as part of traditional Judaism.

AbstractThe new Paul within Judaism Perspective claims that Paul remained a Jew and loyal to the Torah throughout his entire life. His letters were addressed exclusively to Gentile Christians. However, all the Pauline letters do not give the impression that their contents only applied to certain groups within the different congregations. Without a doubt, Paul remained closely tied to Judaism throughout his life, but numerous texts document a break with the past and a departure towards something new. In addition, the Paul within Judaism Perspective ignores the theological standpoint and the organizational efforts required by the emerging group of Christians to establish themselves as a religious community. Any group who decides to set up its own meeting places, give itself a new name, develop new rituals and laws, organize its own communal meals, determine a new holy day and celebrate its own worship services based on a new and unique group image cannot be seen as part of another religious group. Ultimately, a new, impressive theological world comes to light, expressed in its own original style and with an extraordinary literary production. Neither the Jews, nor the strict Jewish Christians, nor the Romans of the time perceived the apostle Paul as someone who continued to consider himself and his congregations to be within the framework of Judaism.

AbstractThe question of the relationship between “Judaism” and “Christianity” in the Acts of the Apostles has been marked by two contradictory interpretive traditions. One tradition emphasizes conflict and rupture, whereas the other sees continuity and a positive treatment of Judaism. These interpretive traditions both find significant textual support from Acts. There is an internal tension within Luke’s characterization of Paul that does not fit neatly into easy dichotomies and is representative of Luke’s broader two-volume work. The present author argues that the significance of God’s history within Israel centers upon Paul’s central conviction that Israel’s Davidic Messiah, resurrected and enthroned at God’s right hand, is the singular dispenser of salvation for Israel and the pagan nations. This messianic conviction results in a re-evaluation (not rejection) of Israel’s primary identity markers that will only be embraced if one grants Paul’s claim that the hope of Israel is identified with Jesus the resurrected Messiah.

In attempting to overturn the biblical witness against same-sex practice, several scholars and ecclesial bodies neglect intertextuality. Attention to where one Scripture interprets another helps to establish meaning and authorial intent. The Genesis creation story is used in Leviticus, the Gospels, and Romans, and Leviticus used in Acts, Romans, 1 Corinthians, and 1 Timothy. Paul was Jewish in his teaching against same-sex practice and in appealing to the Septuagint. The biblical witness against same-sex practice is rooted in creation, and the practice of reading the biblical witness against such behavior in a canonic synthesis reflects the intentions of the writers. The context of the passages, and the dynamic interplay between them, bring themes of God’s creative intentions, guidance, wrath, and redeeming righteousness together.

This article examines how the model of sect-cult development in antiquity helps us understand Paul’s discussion of Jewish traditions in the Letter to the Romans. In the traditional Augustinian–Lutheran scholarship, Romans has often been interpreted within the binary framework of Judaism and Christianity, as Paul showcasing one of the earliest examples of Christian opposition to Judaism. Based on the recent studies on Second Temple Judaism and the modified model of sect-cult reflecting the ancient context, I argue that Romans reveals internal conflicts between cultic and sectarian tendencies present among early churches of the first century C.E. The cultic tendency is reflected in Roman gentile believers’ assimilation of the Jewish tradition with the Greco–Roman virtue of self-mastery and their growing separation from Judaism. Paul, on the other hand, tries to establish the unity between believing gentiles and Israel as exhibiting his sectarian understanding of the gospel and the gentile mission. By placing Romans in the trajectory of sect-cult development of an early church, we stop reading it as a text that justifies the Christian antagonism to Judaism, but as a text that shows an early apostle’s passionate effort to create a unified people of God in the hope for the final salvation.

Despite attempts to break the ‘Pauline fixation’ in Jamesian studies, scholarship continues to read James’ language of ‘faith’ and ‘works’ in relation to Paul. This article attempts to trace James’ language and soteriology back not to Paul, but to certain strands of thought within Second Temple Judaism. This problematises the view that James can only be understood by means of dependancy on Pauline categories. It also avoids falling prey to ecclesial biases that try to harmonise Paul and the Letter of James without due respect for each author’s differing soteriological emphases.

The New Testament is basically a collection of Jewish texts written during a period when the Jesus movement was still part of the diverse Judaism of the first century. Therefore we should expect to find examples of rabbinic biblical interpretation in the New Testament. This article suggests that the apostle Paul used midrash to create an interpretation of Gen 15:6 that allowed Gentiles to be included into the covenant without prior conversion to Judaism (Romans 4:1-12). It is argued that James, the brother of Jesus, in his interpretation of the same verse (James 2:14-24) also used midrash in order to create an interpretation that contradicted that of Paul. It is likely that this reflects an intra-Jewish debate concerning the salvation of the Gentiles. While the majority of Jews within the Jesus movement neither seem to have agreed that Gentiles were not to become Jews, nor were they obliged to observe the Torah, Paul’s solution of including the Gentiles into the covenant may have been perceived as a threat to Jewish ethnic and religious identity.

The article explores Gal 1.14 and Acts 22.3, two statements where Paul is said to be a ζηλωτη´ς. The term is a noun, meaning ‘Zealot’. However, interpreters and commentators have always interpreted the term as an adjective, meaning ‘zealous’. By understanding Paul's statement as an adjective, interpreters and commentators have dissociated Paul from the Zealot movement which was emerging during this period of time within Judaism. However, Paul appears in these passages to claim that the Zealot movement was a powerful influence upon his formative Jewish life and theology and was a motivating factor in his persecution of the Christians. This article proposes that we seriously consider Zealot influences in the formative years of Paul.

Paul's ‘view of the law’ is his reading of a text – the composite text comprising the five books from Genesis to Deuteronomy. His ‘theology of justification’ is a scriptural hermeneutic, antithetical in form and itself constructed from selected scriptural texts, which aims to show how the true meaning of scripture is its testimony to God's unconditional saving action, now realized in Christ. The dynamic of Pauline scriptural interpretation comes most clearly to light within the context of other contemporary readings of the same scriptural texts. Through their common concern with the interpretation of scripture, Pauline and non-Pauline writings constitute a single intertextual field, rather than indicating an immediate ‘parting of the ways’ between two monolithic entities labelled ‘Christianity’ and ‘Judaism’.

This article wishes to handle the subject of the Nomos in Paul from a new perspective, namely from Religious Studies, within a framework where rituals and Ritual Studies receive priority. Nomos is generally translated as ‘the Law’ (with a capital ‘L’), meaning the Torah of Moses, the Pentateuch; by implication, it also covers the rabbinic modes of Torah explication. Commonly, the term and the negation of its religious relevance mark the manner in which Christianity views itself as superseding Judaism. However, the article argues that this understanding of the term and its significance in the writings of Paul is wrongly oriented. Paul himself discusses the issue of religious rules and regulations as part of the life of the communities, which he addresses in his Letters. If Paul is taken at his own words, rituals are important components in Christianity. Thus, the ‘Protestant’ oriented criticism of the cult is tantamount to making Paul address issues that Paul has no intention to take at their face value. This article, therefore, intends to reach new conclusions with regard to the common understanding of Paul's handling of the subject of the Law.

In this article, I explain the main concepts and positions within the so-called radical new perspective on Paul. I also turn to Philippians 3:2-11 in order to apply “radical” insights to Philippians. Even though radical scholars have not yet produced a complete interpretation of Philippians, several among them have turned to Philippians 3-passage in order to cope with Paul’s apparent vilification of Jews as dogs and his description of his “former” life in Judaism. The radical insights, which flow from these approaches, may not provide a completely new understanding of the letter to the Philippians, but they do compel us to rethink certain traditional perceptions of the Philippian situation and Paul’s self-understanding.

AbstractStudies on Paul’s Doxa terminology in the Corinthian epistles have either focused on the apostle’s allusion to the Moses “glory” tradition in 2 Corinthians 3:4-4:6 or on how the diverse “glory” traditions of the LXX and Second Temple Judaism informed his Christology (1 Cor 2:8). However, Paul’s description of the brothers accompanying the Jerusalem collection as the “Doxa of Christ” (2 Cor 8:23) has commanded little attention. Where the phrase has been discussed, it has been understood against the backdrop of the Isaianic “servant” songs (Isa 42, 49, 52-53) and prophecy (60, 62). Alternatively, the text is explained contextually in terms of the brothers promoting Christ’s glory (2 Cor 3:18; 8:19).This article proposes that the honorific inscriptions, Dio Chrysostom’s Rhodian oration, and the imperial context of “glory” allow us to appreciate better why Paul described his colleagues as the “Doxa of Christ.” In employing the phrase, Paul works within the honorific rhetorical conventions, but upends their eulogistic rationale and imperial focus.

In 1 Timothy 1:13, the author frames Paul’s former life in Judaism as that of a “blasphemer, persecutor, and man of violence,” but then proceeds to urge Timothy to “fight the good fight” (1:18) by following Paul’s example of turning opponents over to Satan “so that they may learn not to blaspheme” (1:20). Although this discourse is regularly perceived as promoting nonviolence, this paper traces the legacies of violence in which the passage has participated. First, it considers the letter’s first audiences, for whom the charge of blasphemy appears as one of a larger set of cultural stereotypes the author uses to bolster prejudice against the rivals. Second, it situates this discourse about blasphemy within the (false) portrayal of Paul vis-à-vis Judaism that was perpetuated during the struggles between the church and the synagogue in the early centuries of the common era. Third, the paper briefly traces the ways that Christian rhetoric against Jews as blasphemers participated in acts of violence against Jews from the Middle Ages through the twentieth century. The paper concludes with a constructive critique of some readings of Pauline texts today, even those that overtly set out to understand these texts in a nonviolent manner.

This paper analyzes the attitudes of the Roman Catholic Church in Poland towards the Jews and anti-Semitism during the first decade since the political transformation of 1989–1990. After discussing briefly the main patterns of the development of the Roman Catholic Church in Poland in the modern era I examine two opposing positions within the institutionalized Roman Catholic Church—the ‘Open Church’ and the ‘Closed Church’—dthat emerged in the aftermath of Poland’s regaining full sovereignty in 1989. The ‘Open Church’ and the ‘Closed Church’ represent opposite views on the role of the church in society and on the dialogue with Jews and Judaism and on anti-Semitism. The ‘Open Church’ is a relatively recent phenomenon that originated in the circles of the layman progressive Catholic intelligentsia in the post-1945 period. It is the first visible formation within Roman Catholic Church in Poland, which advocates dialogue with Jews and Judaism and is engaged in the eradication of anti-Semitic attitudes. The ‘Closed Church,’ which represents the formation of the ‘besieged fortress’ was historically strongly intertwined with the exclusivist ethno-nationalistic political movement of the National Democracy. The remnants of this fusion were still visible in the statements of high rank clergy in the 1990s and early 2000. This formation ignores the concept of the dialogue with Jews and Judaism advocated by Pope John Paul II and among its supporters there are still many holders of anti-Semitic views. The paper provides various examples of anti-Semitic occurrences and pronouncements of the 1990s and it discusses various initiatives aimed at the facilitating dialogue between Christians and Jews introduced by the members of the ‘Open Church’ in the 1990s. It assess the importance of the ‘Open Church’ in the eradication of anti-Semitic views and the extent of the influence of the ‘Closed Church’ on both the clergy and Catholic community at large.

Studying the Apocrypha can help Christians understand writings that were available to Jesus and his earliest generations of followers, including those followers who wrote the texts that constitute the New Testament. Jesus, Paul, James, and other New Testament voices exhibit rich rootedness in their contemporary Jewish ethical and theological discourse. Reading these ancient texts can help interpreters today understand Jesus and his early followers within the context of the Second-Temple Judaism of their time, as these texts significantly had an impact on the emerging theology, ethos, and practice of the Christian church in its most formative centuries. The value of these texts has been affirmed by the majority of the world’s Christians across centuries, not only for their historical value but also as devotional literature. These reasons confirm the Reformers’ own opinion that the Apocrypha “are good and useful to read.”

AbstractIn this extended review I first describe Wright's complex account of the doctrine of justification in Paul, which combines emphases on the covenant, the lawcourt, Christ and eschatology and includes, further, important translation claims concerning ‘the righteousness of God’ as God's covenant faithfulness, ‘justification’ as vindication in a lawcourt setting, ‘works of law’ as sociological boundary markers, and ‘faith’ as speaking not infrequently of Christ's fidelity rather than the generic Christian's (although these last two things are not separate; the former grounds the latter making it a badge of Christian membership). I then suggest, second, that Wright needs to recognise more clearly a particular danger in the traditional approach to justification that he is trying to move beyond – ‘foundationalist individualism’, or ‘forward thinking’. That is, the traditional reading of justification in Paul understands him to be arguing and thinking forward, from a nasty, legalistic, and essentially Jewish, plight, to a solution which is a gospel generously grasped by faith alone. This narrative, rooted in a certain reading of Romans 1–4, creates a large number of difficulties. (It begins with natural theology. It characterises Judaism unfairly. It asks a lot of sinful individuals unenlightened by grace. And so on.) And I am not convinced that Wright's complex revisionist account of justification has avoided them all. In particular, (1) he continues to emphasise a particular notion of the lawcourt in Paul's argument and thereby unleashes an account of God's character primarily in terms of retributive justice and hence in terms of Western politics. (2) He tends to define the covenant before he has taken full account of christology. The covenant should be defined by christology, rather than the other way around. One sign that things have not been tied together here as they ought to be is the number of different definitions of Israel that Wright supplies – as many as four. Moreover (3) even his revisionist sociological account of ‘works of law’ reproduces a key difficulty in the older approach, i.e. a jaundiced description of Judaism. And (4) his account of faith in Abraham does not explicitly link Paul's controversial reification of Genesis 15:6 to a christological hermeneutic, as it needs to in order to avoid crass reductionism. But Wright's definitive account of Paul is not yet fully articulated, so suitable adjustments might well allay my concerns here, with various aspects of foundationalism presently appearing within his theological description.

In the discipline of New Testament studies there are particular reasons for critical vigilance concerning the ways in which historical reconstructions can be shaped by a sense of both religious and ethnic or racial superiority. This risk applies specifically to the contrasting depictions of Judaism and Christianity, and it is notable that, despite the changing phases of scholarship, the tendency to replicate a dichotomy between an ethnically particular Judaism and a universal, open, trans-ethnic Christianity persists. As one facet of a critical consideration of this dichotomy, this essay considers two specific texts that contribute to the ethnicisation of early Christian identity: 1 Corinthians 7 and 1 Peter 3. In the former, Paul develops two principles that are significant in the ethnicisation process: endogamy as norm for the contraction of marriage (1 Cor 7.39) and the assumption that children with a Christian parent (even in a so-called ‘mixed marriage’) are part of the Christian community (1 Cor 7.14). The later household codes further develop this idea that the household is a place for the reproduction and generation of Christian identity. In 1 Pet 3.1–6, part of the letter's household code where mixed marriage is again an issue, two features of the text are of particular interest: its focus on a ‘way of life’ (ἀναστροφή) and the connections drawn between conduct and ancestry. In both of these respects, 1 Peter seems to be constructing a form of group-identity that shares features in common with Jewish notions of group-belonging in the period. The ‘ethnicising’ features of these texts raise questions about any categorical contrast between Jewish ethnicity and Christian inclusive trans-ethnicity. Why then is such a depiction of the Christian achievement – which in many ways parallels depictions of modern Western political liberalism – so enduring and appealing within the discipline? It is suggested that the answer must be sought in the religious and ethnic or racial location of that scholarly tradition.

The view that the Holy Spirit as the source of prophecy was believed by Jews during the tannaitic period to have withdrawn from Israel, to return only in the eschatological future, is built upon a pastiche of texts: Ps 74.9; 1 Macc 4.46, 9.27 and 14.41; Josephus'sAp.1.37—41;2 Apoc. Bar.85.3; Pr Azar 15; andt. Soṭa13.2—4. On the basis of such texts, E. Sjöberg referred to ‘a widespread theological conviction’ about the withdrawal of the Holy Spirit and J. Vos to ‘die verbreitete Tradition’. C. K. Barrett quoted G. F. Moore approvingly: ‘The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of prophecy … The Holy Spirit is so specifically prophetic inspiration that when Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi, the last prophets, died, the Holy Spirit departed from Israel.’ W. D. Davies suggested cautiously, after a thorough analysis of the data, ‘… we may now assume that Paul was reared within a Judaism which, to use very moderate language, tended to relegate the activity of the Holy Spirit to the past’. G. W. H. Lampe generalized, ‘In the main, the Spirit continues to be thought of as being, pre-eminently, the Spirit of prophecy, manifested in the distant past in such great figures as Elijah (Ecclus. 48.12) or Isaiah (vs. 24), but which was now no longer present in Israel.’ J. Jeremias subtitled section nine of hisNew Testament Theology‘The Return of the Quenched Spirit’, and

Dansk Teologisk Tidsskrift bringer i dette nummer tre artikler, som alle på forskellig måde beskæftiger sig med rette religiøse bestemmelser. I første artikel behandler Mogens Müller Justin som den første kendte bibelteolog. Müllers store arbejde med Septuaginta danner baggrunden for at vise Justins rolle som hovedfigur i 2. århundredes kristendom. Her bidrog Justin, der både var overbevist om Skriftens ufejlbarlighed og mente, at Skriften kun kan fortolkes af den, der har Ånden, i høj grad til at sikre Septuagintas status som kirkens bibel. I en tid, hvor andre, som fx Markion, alene lagde vægt på Jesus- overleveringen, var Justin med til at fastholde kristendommens forbindelse til jødedømmen. Men han gjorde det uafhængigt af den jødiske tradition, hvilket netop den græske oversættelse gjorde muligt. Gennem læsningen af Apologierne og Dialogen giver Müller eksempler på Justins bibelbrug og viser blandt andet, hvordan Justin som den første bemærker forskellen mellem den hebraiske og den græske tekst. I den næste artikel viser Jacob P.B. Mortensen, hvordan Fil 3,2-11 kan læses i lyset af det “radikalt” nye Paulusperspektiv, også kendt som “Paul Within Judaism”. Hvis Paulus ikke bryder med jødedommen, men tværtimod skal forstås inden for den, så kan Fil 3,2’s tale om “hundene” ikke være vendt mod jøderne. En “radikalt” ny Pauluslæsning må derfor lede efter andre tolkningsmuligheder. En kritisk efterprøvning af gængse fortolkninger, ifølge hvilke Paulus vender et hedninge-skældsord mod jøderne, viser, at de ikke kan bekræfte brugen af “hunde” som skældsord om hedninger i hverken Det Gamle Testamente, pseudepigrafer eller Dødehavsrullerne, og heller ikke hos hverken Filon eller Josefus. Brugen af “hundene” forstår man derfor bedst møntet på lokale problematiske grupper af hedninge i Filippi. En sådan tolkning understøtter det “radikalt” nye Paulusperspektivs bestemmelse af Paulus: at han aldrig opgav sin jødiske eksistens.I den sidste artikel giver Rasmus H.C. Dreyer en historisk og indholdsmæssig indføring i den alternative og ofte oversete Confessio Tetrapolitana fra Augsburg 1530. Bekendelsen er forfattet af Martin Bucer og Wolfgang Capito og er udtryk for et forsøg på at bestemme en humanistisk præget mellemposition mellem Zwingli og Luther, karakteriseret ved biblicisme, et vagt nadversyn, samt en betoning af den kristnes nye liv og konsekenserne for det kristne societas. I artiklen sammenlignes Confessio Tetrapolitano med både Confessio Augustana og Zwinglis Fidei Ratio. Som afslutning gennemgår Dreyer de forskellige forbindelser, der var mellem Bucer og Danmark, af både personlig og teologisk karakter.

For Derrida, the ‘as if’, as a regulative principle directly appropriated and modified from its Kantian context, becomes the central lynchpin for understanding, not only Derrida's philosophical system as a whole, but also his numerous seemingly enigmatic references to his ‘jewishness’. Through an analysis of the function of the ‘as if’ within the history of thought, from Greek tragedy to the poetry of Wallace Stevens, I hope to show how Derrida can only appropriate his Judaic roots as an act of mourning that seeks to render the lost object as present, ‘as if’ it were incorporated by the subject for whom this act nevertheless remains an impossibility. As Derrida discerns within the poetry of Paul Celan, bringing a sense of presence/presentness to our experiences, and as a confirmation of the subject which the human being struggles to assert, is the poetic task par excellence. It is seemingly also, if Derrida is to be understood on this point, the only option left to a humanity wherein poetry comes to express what religious formulations can no longer justify.

Righteousness through the law and rightousness through faith in Rm 4:13—25: A reaction to EP Sanders In his book Paul and Palestinian Judaism EP Sanders has presented us with a most stimulating approach. His main thesis that traditional New Testament research has misunderstood Paul as well as first century Palestinian Judaism, received positive comment from many quarters. According to Sanders first century Judaism should be understood within a context of gratuity rather than as a religion of works. A survey of Rm 4:13-25 shows, however, that at least Paul viewed righteousness through the law as an entrance requirement in Judaism. As far as the Jewish sources are concerned a preliminary investigation indicates that Sanders' usage and interpretation of these sources are questionable. It seems highly probable that Sanders has misinterpreted Palestinian Judaism and for that reason also Paul's criticism of it.

This article presents new perspectives in research on the apostle Paul in his first-century Jewish context. The article provides a general overview of the history of research in this respect, especially in light of the antisemitic attitudes and perceptions that have played an important role in the formation of the traditional view of Paul and his message. The so-called “New Perspective on Paul“, which was prominent in the late 20th century, is briefly presented and discussed. But the main emphasis of the article is the presentation of a more recent view that is either called “The Radical New Perspective on Paul“ or (more appropri-ately) “Paul within Judaism“. This new approach is gaining more and more support in New Testament scholarship, particularly in the United States and in the Nordic countries. According to this perspective, Paul neither abandoned nor rejected Judaism, but remained a Jew, even as a believer in Christ, and he wrote his letters into a first-century Jewish context. In other words, the context of Paul’s message was not “Christian” in the sense that it was something else than Jewish — Christianity did not exist as such in Paul’s time

In the past decade or so, Paul’s ideas about the eschaton as expressed in Romans 11 have been invoked in a lively discussion about why the Catholic Church today does not organize campaigns to convert Jews to Christianity. Particularly important have been his words about “the full number of the Gentiles.” This essay asks if Paul’s letters require, or support as most appropriate today, a triumphal Christian expectation that at the end of days Jews will inevitably admit that they had been wrong all along in saying “no” to the Christian proclamation of the Gospel. It suggests that a crucial factor is whether Christian readings of Romans 11 today—as well as typical translations of Romans 11—are predicated on a view of Paul as an apostate who departed from Judaism. It argues that current actualizations of Pauline eschatology are quite different if Paul is instead understood as an apostle to the nations from within Judaism. It concludes that present-day eschatological scenarios need to have greater complexity than simplistic zero-sum phrases like “a Jewish turn to Christ” or “Christians will see their error,” and that Paul himself—in a very different religious world—tried to resist such binary thinking when it came to Jews and non-Jews.

The intense response to Götz Aly's recently published book, Hitlers Volksstaat: Raub, Rassenkrieg und nationaler Sozialismus, attests to the continued interest in studies related to Germany's “Jewish Question” and the forces that motivated German citizens to support National Socialism. The scholarship produced decades ago by Paul Massing, Peter Pulzer, Fritz Stern, and George Mosse and reenergized by Christopher Browning and Daniel Goldhagen in the 1990s has produced a rich and detailed analysis of the role that Jews occupied within the German national community. Not surprisingly, the origins and manifestations of anti-Semitism occupy center stage within this body of work, and less antagonistic relations between Jews and Gentiles in Germany receive scant attention. Studies that depict Gentile supporters of Jews and Judaism are virtually nonexistent. Alan Levenson's monograph, Between Philosemitism and Antisemitism, compels us to reconsider the continuum of attitudes toward Jews that existed in Germany from the establishment of the Kaiserreich to the advent of Nazism. The book's eight essays, all of which have been previously published, probe the limits of philosemitism within an anti-Semitic environment and flesh out the opposite end of the societal spectrum from those occupied by German anti-Semitism (xi).

In this article, the phrase ‘this generation’ [ἡ γενεὰ αὕτη] in Matthew 24:34 is read in terms of the larger category to which it is argued to belong, namely the two respective timeless, spiritual generations akin to Genesis 3:15: the one that bears the right fruit and belongs to God’s kingdom and the other one that bears the wrong fruit and belongs to the kingdom of the devil (the serpent). Such a connotation is especially traced in the three occurrences of the expression γεννήματα ἐχιδνῶν [offspring or generation of vipers] in the gospel (Mt 3:7; 12:34; 23:33) and other generational language within the gospel that differentiates these two generations. The same connotations are argued to lie behind the generational language in the other gospels too. Such an understanding of ‘this generation’ would solve the eschatological problems that are often attached to prevalent interpretations thereof and would alleviate much of the charges of anti-Judaism levelled against the gospels.Intradisciplinary and/or interdisciplinary implications: The two main areas where this research challenges traditional discourses are (1) on the traditional interpretation that Jesus would envision his contemporary generation to witness his second coming and (2) that generational language in Matthew would be confined to a group of people being time-bound or being defined by racial and/or ethnic affiliation. On an interdisciplinary level, this has implications for (1) the perception of eschatology in Systematic Theology or Biblical Theology, especially in terms of the way in which a distinction is often drawn between Paul and Jesus’ eschatology and (2) the perception of ethnicity or race in the New Testament, which has to do with identity formation and overlaps with both Systematic Theology and Sociology. In other words, Jesus would critique prevalent perceptions of identity by critiquing them on a spiritual level.

Abstract Early Christians coined the word christemporos (“Christ-seller”) to mark other early Christians as abusive in their apostolic or Christian labor. This article explores the neologism, first embedding it within the market terminology of contemporaneous epigraphy and emphasizing its similarity to the term sōmatemporos, slave-seller or slave-trader. Second, the term christemporos, because of its frequent connection to the image of “huckstering the word of God” from 2 Cor. 2:17, is analyzed in relation to practices of hospitium. The term christemporos is invective: you would have to be pretty low to sell the anointed one; you would have to be a huckster or peddler, as Paul says, or a betrayer, as Judas was. The term also reflects a larger area of inquiry in antiquity: Is hospitality or the gift possible? The article, in focusing on christemporos, also considers how philological investigation can participate in a transhistorical “wake work,” to cite Christina Sharpe.

IllegitimacyBack in 1987, Gregory Bateson argued that:Kurt Vonnegut gives us wary advice – that we should be careful what we pretend because we become what we pretend. And something like that, some sort of self-fulfilment, occurs in all organisations and human cultures. What people presume to be ‘human’ is what they will build in as premises of their social arrangements, and what they build in is sure to be learned, is sure to become a part of the character of those who participate. (178)The human capacity to marginalise and discriminate against others on the basis of innate and constructed characteristics is evident from the long history of discrimination against people whose existence is ‘illegitimate’, defined as being outside the law. What is inside or outside the law depends upon the context under consideration. For example, in societies such as ancient Greece and the antebellum United States, where slavery was legal, people who were constructed as ‘slaves’ could legitimately be treated very differently from ‘citizens’: free people who benefit from a range of human rights (Northup). The discernment of what is legitimate from that which is illegitimate is thus implicated within the law but extends into the wider experience of community life and is evident within the civil structures through which society is organised and regulated.The division between the legitimate and illegitimate is an arbitrary one, susceptible to changing circumstances. Within recent memory a romantic/sexual relationship between two people of the same sex was constructed as illegitimate and actively persecuted. This was particularly the case for same-sex attracted men, since the societies regulating these relationships generally permitted women a wider repertoire of emotional response than men were allowed. Even when lesbian and gay relationships were legalised, they were constructed as less legitimate in the sense that they often had different rules around the age of consent for homosexual and heterosexual couples. In Australia, the refusal to allow same sex couples to marry perpetuates ways in which these relationships are constructed as illegitimate – beyond the remit of the legislation concerning marriage.The archetypal incidence of illegitimacy has historically referred to people born out of wedlock. The circumstances of birth, for example whether a person was born as a result of a legally-sanctioned marital relationship or not, could have ramifications throughout an individual’s life. Stories abound (for example, Cookson) of the implications of being illegitimate. In some social stings, such as Catherine Cookson’s north-eastern England at the turn of the twentieth century, illegitimate children were often shunned. Parents frequently refused permission for their (legitimate) children to play with illegitimate classmates, as if these children born out of wedlock embodied a contaminating variety of evil. Illegitimate children were treated differently in the law in matters of inheritance, for example, and may still be. They frequently lived in fear of needing to show a birth certificate to gain a passport, for example, or to marry. Sometimes, it was at this point in adult life, that a person first discovered their illegitimacy, changing their entire understanding of their family and their place in the world. It might be possible to argue that the emphasis upon the legitimacy of a birth has lessened in proportion to an acceptance of genetic markers as an indicator of biological paternity, but that is not the endeavour here.Given the arbitrariness and mutability of the division between legitimacy and illegitimacy as a constructed boundary, it is policed by social and legal sanctions. Boundaries, such as the differentiation between the raw and the cooked (Lévi-Strauss), or S/Z (Barthes), or purity and danger (Douglas), serve important cultural functions and also convey critical information about the societies that enforce them. Categories of person, place or thing which are closest to boundaries between the legitimate and the illegitimate can prompt existential anxiety since the capacity to discern between these categories is most challenged at the margins. The legal shenanigans which can result speak volumes for which aspects of life have the potential to unsettle a culture. One example of this which is writ large in the recent history of Australia is our treatment of refugees and asylum seekers and the impact of this upon Australia’s multicultural project.Foreshadowing the sexual connotations of the illegitimate, one of us has written elsewhere (Green, ‘Bordering on the Inconceivable’) about the inconceivability of the Howard administration’s ‘Pacific solution’. This used legal devices to rewrite Australia’s borders to limit access to the rights accruing to refugees upon landing in a safe haven entitling them to seek asylum. Internationally condemned as an illegitimate construction of an artificial ‘migration zone’, this policy has been revisited and made more brutal under the Abbot regime with at least two people – Reza Barati and Hamid Khazaei – dying in the past year in what is supposed to be a place of safety provided by Australian authorities under their legal obligations to those fleeing from persecution. Crock points out, echoing the discourse of illegitimacy, that it is and always has been inappropriate to label “undocumented asylum seekers” as “‘illegal’” because: “until such people cross the border onto Australian territory, the language of illegality is nonsense. People who have no visas to enter Australia can hardly be ‘illegals’ until they enter Australia” (77). For Australians who identify in some ways – religion, culture, fellow feeling – with the detainees incarcerated on Nauru and Manus Island, it is hard to ignore the disparity between the government’s treatment of visa overstayers and “illegals” who arrive by boat (Wilson). It is a comparatively short step to construct this disparity as reflecting upon the legitimacy within Australia of communities who share salient characteristics with detained asylum seekers: “The overwhelmingly negative discourse which links asylum seekers, Islam and terrorism” (McKay, Thomas & Kneebone, 129). Some communities feel themselves constructed in the public and political spheres as less legitimately Australian than others. This is particularly true of communities where members can be identified via markers of visible difference, including indicators of ethnic, cultural and religious identities: “a group who [some 585 respondent Australians …] perceived would maintain their own languages, customs and traditions […] this cultural diversity posed an extreme threat to Australian national identity” (McKay, Thomas & Kneebone, 129). Where a community shares salient characteristics such as ethnicity or religion with many detained asylum seekers they can become fearful of the discourses around keeping borders strong and protecting Australia from illegitimate entrants. MethodologyThe qualitative fieldwork upon which this paper is based took place some 6-8 years ago (2006-2008), but the project remains one of the most recent and extensive studies of its kind. There are no grounds for believing that any of the findings are less valid than previously. On the contrary, if political actions are constructed as a proxy for mainstream public consent, opinions have become more polarised and have hardened. Ten focus groups were held involving 86 participants with a variety of backgrounds including differences in age, gender, religious observance, religious identification and ethnicity. Four focus groups involved solely Muslim participants; six drew from the wider Australian community. The aim was to examine the response of different communities to mainstream Australian media representations of Islam, Muslims, and terrorism. Research questions included: “Are there differences in the ways in which Australian Muslims respond to messages about ‘fear’ and ‘terror’ compared with broader community Australians’ responses to the same messages?” and “How do Australian Muslims construct the perceptions and attitudes of the broader Australian community based on the messages that circulate in the media?” Recent examples of kinds of messages investigated include media coverage of Islamic State’s (ISIS’s) activities (Karam & Salama), and the fear-provoking coverage around the possible recruitment of Australians to join the fighting in Syria and Iraq (Cox). The ten focus groups were augmented by 60 interviews, 30 with respondents who identified as Muslim (15 males, 15 female) and 30 respondents from the broader community (same gender divisions). Finally, a market research company was commissioned to conduct a ‘fear survey’, based on an established ‘fear of rape’ inventory (Aly and Balnaves), delivered by telephone to a random sample of 750 over-18 y.o. Australians in which Muslims formed a deliberative sub-group, to ensure they were over-sampled and constituted at least 150 respondents. The face-to-face surveys and focus groups were conducted by co-author, Dr Anne Aly. General FindingsMuslim respondents indicate a heightened intensity of reaction to media messages around fear and terror. In addition to a generalised fear of the potential impact of terrorism upon Australian society and culture, Muslim respondents experienced a specific fear that any terrorist-related media coverage might trigger hostility towards Muslim Australian communities and their own family members. According to the ‘fear survey’ scale, Muslim Australians at the time of the research experienced approximately twice the fear level of mainstream Australian respondents. Broader Australian community Australian Muslim communityFear of a terrorist attackFear of a terrorist attack combines with the fear of a community backlashSpecific victims: dead, injured, bereavedCommunity is full of general victims in addition to any specific victimsShort-term; intense impactsProtracted, diffuse impactsSociety-wide sympathy and support for specific victims and all those involved in dealing with the trauma and aftermathSociety-wide suspicion and a marginalisation of those affected by the backlashVictims of a terrorist attack are embraced by broader communityVictims of backlash experience hostility from the broader communityFour main fears were identified by Australian Muslims as a component of the fear of terrorism:Fear of physical harm. In addition to the fear of actual terrorist acts, Australian Muslims fear backlash reprisals such as those experienced after such events as 9/11, the Bali bombings, and attacks upon public transport passengers in Spain and the UK. These and similar events were constructed as precipitating increased aggression against identifiable Australian Muslims, along with shunning of Muslims and avoidance of their company.The construction of politically-motivated fear. Although fear is an understandable response to concerns around terrorism, many respondents perceived fears as being deliberately exacerbated for political motives. Such strategies as “Be alert, not alarmed” (Bassio), labelling asylum seekers as potential terrorists, and talk about home-grown terrorists, are among the kinds of fears which were identified as politically motivated. The political motivation behind such actions might include presenting a particular party as strong, resolute and effective. Some Muslim Australians construct such approaches as indicating that their government is more interested in political advantage than social harmony.Fear of losing civil liberties. As well as sharing the alarm of the broader Australian community at the dozens of legislative changes banning people, organisations and materials, and increasing surveillance and security checks, Muslim Australians fear for the human rights implications across their community, up to and including the lives of their young people. This fear is heightened when community members may look visibly different from the mainstream. Examples of the events fuelling such fears include the London police killing of Jean Charles de Menezes, a Brazilian Catholic working as an electrician in the UK and shot in the month following the 7/7 attacks on the London Underground system (Pugliese). In Australia, the case of Mohamed Hannef indicated that innocent people could easily be unjustly accused and wrongly targeted, and even when this was evident the political agenda made it almost impossible for authorities to admit their error (Rix).Feeling insecure. Australian Muslims argue that personal insecurity has become “the new normal” (Massumi), disproportionately affecting Muslim communities in both physical and psychological ways. Physical insecurity is triggered by the routine avoidance, shunning and animosity experienced by many community members in public places. Psychological insecurity includes fear for the safety of younger members of the community compounded by concern that young people may become ‘radicalised’ as a result of the discrimination they experience. Australian Muslims fear the backlash following any possible terrorist attack on Australian soil and describe the possible impact as ‘unimaginable’ (Aly and Green, ‘Moderate Islam’).In addition to this range of fears expressed by Australian Muslims and constructed in response to wider societal reactions to increased concerns over radical Islam and the threat of terrorist activity, an analysis of respondents’ statements indicate that Muslim Australians construct the broader community as exhibiting:Fear of religious conviction (without recognising the role of their own secular/religious convictions underpinning this fear);Fear of extremism (expressed in various extreme ways);Fear of powerlessness (responded to by disempowering others); andFear of political action overseas having political effects at home (without acknowledging that it is the broader community’s response to such overseas events, such as 9/11 [Green ‘Did the world really change?’], which has also had impacts at home).These constructions, extrapolations and understandings by Australian Muslims of the fears of the broader community underpinning the responses to the threat of terror have been addressed elsewhere (Green and Aly). Legitimate Australian MuslimsOne frustration identified by many Muslim respondents centres upon a perceived ‘acceptable’ way to be an Australian Muslim. Arguing that the broader community construct Muslims as a homogenous group defined by their religious affiliation, these interviewees felt that the many differences within and between the twenty-plus national, linguistic, ethnic, cultural and faith-based groupings that constitute WA’s Muslim population were being ignored. Being treated as a homogenised group on a basis of faith appears to have the effect of putting that religious identity under pressure, paradoxically strengthening and reinforcing it (Aly, ‘Australian Muslim Responses to the Discourse on Terrorism’). The appeal to Australian Muslims to embrace membership in a secular society and treat religion as a private matter also led some respondents to suggest they were expected to deny their own view of their faith, in which they express their religious identity across their social spheres and in public and private contexts. Such expression is common in observant Judaism, Hinduism and some forms of Christianity, as well as in some expressions of Islam (Aly and Green, ‘Less than equal’). Massumi argues that even the ways in which some Muslims dress, indicating faith-based behaviour, can lead to what he terms as ‘affective modulation’ (Massumi), repeating and amplifying the fear affect as a result of experiencing the wider community’s fear response to such triggers as water bottles (from airport travel) and backpacks, on the basis of perceived physical difference and a supposed identification with Muslim communities, regardless of the situation. Such respondents constructed this (implied) injunction to suppress their religious and cultural affiliation as akin to constructing the expression of their identity as illegitimate and somehow shameful. Parallels can be drawn with previous social responses to a person born out of wedlock, and to people in same-sex relationships: a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ kind of denial.Australian Muslims who see their faith as denied or marginalised may respond by identifying more strongly with other Muslims in their community, since the community-based context is one in which they feel welcomed and understood. The faith-based community also allows and encourages a wider repertoire of acceptable beliefs and actions entailed in the performance of ‘being Muslim’. Hand in hand with a perception of being required to express their religious identity in ways that were acceptable to the majority community, these respondents provided a range of examples of self-protective behaviours to defend themselves and others from the impacts of perceived marginalisation. Such behaviours included: changing their surnames to deflect discrimination based solely on a name (Aly and Green, ‘Fear, Anxiety and the State of Terror’); keeping their opinions private, even when they were in line with those being expressed by the majority community (Aly and Green, ‘Moderate Islam’); the identification of ‘less safe’ and ‘safe’ activities and areas; concerns about visibly different young men in the Muslim community and discussions with them about their public behaviour and demeanour; and women who chose not to leave their homes for fear of being targeted in public places (all discussed in Aly, ‘Australian Muslim Responses to the Discourse on Terrorism’). Many of these behaviours, including changing surnames, restricting socialisation to people who know a person well, and the identification of safe and less safe activities in relation to the risk of self-revelation, were common strategies used by people who were stigmatised in previous times as a result of their illegitimacy.ConclusionConstructions of the legitimate and illegitimate provide one means through which we can investigate complex negotiations around Australianness and citizenship, thrown into sharp relief by the Australian government’s treatment of asylum seekers, also deemed “illegals”. Because they arrive in Australia (or, as the government would prefer, on Australia’s doorstep) by illegitimate channels these would-be citizens are treated very differently from people who arrive at an airport and overstay their visa. The impetus to exclude aspects of geographical Australia from the migration zone, and to house asylum seekers offshore, reveals an anxiety about borders which physically reflects the anxiety of western nations in the post-9/11 world. Asylum seekers who arrive by boat have rarely had safe opportunity to secure passports or visas, or to purchase tickets from commercial airlines or shipping companies. They represent those ethnicities and cultures which are currently in turmoil: a turmoil frequently exacerbated by western intervention, variously constructed as an il/legitimate expression of western power and interests.What this paper has demonstrated is that the boundary between Australia and the rest, the legitimate and the illegitimate, is failing in its aim of creating a stronger Australia. The means through which this project is pursued is making visible a range of motivations and concerns which are variously interpreted depending upon the position of the interpreter. The United Nations, for example, has expressed strong concern over Australia’s reneging upon its treaty obligations to refugees (Gordon). Less vocal, and more fearful, are those communities within Australia which identify as community members with the excluded illegals. The Australian government’s treatment of detainees on Manus Island and Nauru, who generally exhibit markers of visible difference as a result of ethnicity or culture, is one aspect of a raft of government policies which serve to make some people feel that their Australianness is somehow less legitimate than that of the broader community. AcknowledgementsThis paper is based on the findings of an Australian Research Council Discovery Project (DP0559707), 2005-7, “Australian responses to the images and discourses of terrorism and the other: establishing a metric of fear”, awarded to Professors Lelia Green and Mark Balnaves. The research involved 10 focus groups and 60 individual in-depth interviews and a telephone ‘fear of terrorism’ survey. The authors wish to acknowledge the participation and contributions of WA community members and wider Australian respondents to the telephone survey. ReferencesAly, Anne. “Australian Muslim Responses to the Discourse on Terrorism in the Australian Popular Media.” Australian Journal of Social Issues 42.1 (2007): 27-40.Aly, Anne, and Lelia Green. “Fear, Anxiety and the State of Terror.” Studies in Conflict and Terrorism 33.3 (Feb 2010): 268-81.Aly, Anne, and Lelia Green. “Less than Equal: Secularism, Religious Pluralism and Privilege.” M/C Journal 11.2 (2008). 15 Oct. 2009 ‹http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/view/32›.Aly, Anne, and Lelia Green. “‘Moderate Islam’: Defining the Good Citizen”. M/C Journal 10.6/11.1 (2008). 13 April 2008 ‹http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0804/08-aly-green.php›.Aly, Anne, and Mark Balnaves. “‘They Want Us to Be Afraid’: Developing a Metric for the Fear of Terrorism. International Journal of Diversity in Organisations, Communities & Nations 6.6 (2008): 113-122.Barthes, Roland. S/Z. Oxford: Blackwell, 1990.Bassio, Diana. “‘Be Alert, Not Alarmed’: Governmental Communication of Risk in an Era of Insecurity.” Annual Conference Australian and New Zealand Communication Association, Christchurch, New Zealand, 2005. ‹http://www.anzca.net/documents/anzca-05-1/refereed-proceedings-9/247-be-alert-not-alarmed-governmental-communication-of-risk-in-an-era-of-insecurity-1/file.html›.Bateson, Gregory, and Mary Catherine Bateson. “Innocence and Experience”. Angels Fear: Towards an Epistemology of the Sacred. New York: Hampton Press, 1987. 167-182. 11 Sep. 2014 ‹http://www.oikos.org/baten.htm›.Cookson, Catherine. Our Kate. London: Corgi, 1969.Cox, Nicole. “Police Probe ‘Die for Syria’ Car Stickers”. WA Today 11 Sep. 2014. 11 Sep. 2014 ‹http://www.watoday.com.au/wa-news/police-probe-die-for-syria-car-stickers-20140911-10fmo7.html›.Crock, Mary. “That Sinking Feeling: Correspondence”. Quarterly Essay 54 (June 2014): 75-79.Douglas, Mary. Purity and Danger. London: Routledge and Keagan Paul, 1978 [1966].Gordon, Michael. “New UN Human Rights Chief Attacks Australia over Asylum Seeker Rights ‘Violations’.” Sydney Morning Herald 7 Sep. 2014. 11 Sep. 2014 ‹http://www.smh.com.au/federal-politics/political-news/new-un-human-rights-chief-attacks-australia-over-asylum-seeker-rights-violations-20140907-10dlkx.html›.Green, Lelia. “Bordering on the Inconceivable: The Pacific Solution, the Migration Zone and ‘Australia’s 9/11’”. Australian Journal of Communication 31.1 (2004): 19-36.Green, Lelia. “Did the World Really Change on 9/11?” Australian Journal of Communication 29.2 (2002): 1-14.Green, Lelia, and Anne Aly. “How Australian Muslims Construct Western Fear of the Muslim Other”. Negotiating Identities: Constructed Selves and Others. Ed. Helen Vella Bonavita. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2011. 65-90. Karam, Zeina, and Vivian Salama. “US President Barack Obama Powers Up to Shut Down Islamic State”. The Australian 11 Sep. 2014. 11 Sep. 2014 ‹http://www.theaustralian/world/%20us-president-barak-obama-powers-up-to-shut-down-islamic-state-20140911-10f9dh.html›.Lévi-Strauss, Claude. The Raw and the Cooked: Mythologiques, Volume 1. Chicago: University of Chicago, 1969.Massumi, Brian. “Fear (the Spectrum Said).” Positions 13.1 (2005): 31-48.McKay, Fiona H., Samantha, L. Thomas, and Susan Kneebone. “‘It Would Be Okay If They Came through the Proper Channels’: Community Perceptions and Attitudes toward Asylum Seekers in Australia”. Journal of Refugee Studies 25.1 (2011): 113-133.Northup, Solomon. Twelve Years a Slave. New York: Derby & Miller, 1853.Pugliese, Joseph. “Asymmetries of Terror: Visual Regimes of Racial Profiling and the Shooting of John Charles de Menezes in the Context of the War in Iraq.” Borderlands 5.1 (2006). 11 Sep. 2014 ‹http://www.borderlands.net.au/vol5no1_2006/pugliese.htm›.Rix, M. “With Reckless Abandon: Haneef and Ul-Haque in Australia’s ‘War on Terror’.” In K. Michael and M.G. Micheal (eds.), The Third Workshop on the Social Implications of National Security Australia. Canberra, July 2008. 107-122. 11 Sep. 2014 ‹http://ro.uow.edu.au/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1011&context=gsbpapers›.Said, Edward. Orientalism. London: Penguin, 1977.Wilson, Lauren. “More Visa Over-Stayers than Asylum-Seekers”. The Australian 11 Oct. 2012. 11 Sep. 2014 ‹http://www.theaustralian.com.au/national-affairs/immigration/more-visa-over-stayers-than-asylum-seekers/story-fn9hm1gu-1226493178289›.

Content warning: although it was kept to a minimum, this text displays instances of (anti-Semitic) hate speech. During the 2016 U.S. election and its aftermath, multiple journalistic accounts reported on “alt-right trolls” emanating from anonymous online spaces like the imageboard 4chan (e.g. Abramson; Ellis). Having gained infamy for its nihilist trolling subcultures (Phillips, This Is Why) and the loose hacktivist movement Anonymous (Coleman), 4chan now drew headlines because of the alt-right’s “genuinely new” concoction of white supremacy, ironic Internet humour, and a lack of clear leadership (Hawley 50). The alt-right “anons”, as imageboard users call themselves, were said to primarily manifest on the “Politically Incorrect” subforum of 4chan: /pol/. Gradually, a sentiment arose in the titles of several news articles that the pro-Trump “alt-right trolls” had successfully won the metapolitical battle intertwined with the elections (Phillips, Oxygen 5). For instance, articles titled that “trolls” were “The Only True Winners of this Election” (Dewey) or even “Plotting a GOP Takeover” (Stuart).The headlines were as enticing as questionable. As trolling-expert Whitney Phillips headlined herself, the alt-right did not attain political gravity solely through its own efforts but rather was “Conjured Out of Pearl Clutching and Media Attention” (“The Alt-Right”), with news outlets being provoked to criticise, debunk, or sensationalise its trolling activities (Faris et al. 131; Phillips, “Oxygen” 5-6). Even with the right intentions, attempts at denouncement through using vague, structuralist notions–from “alt-right” and “trolls” to “the basket of deplorables” (Robertson) – arguably only strengthened the coherence of those it was meant to disavow (Phillips, Oxygen; Phillips et al.; Marantz). Phillips et al. therefore lamented such generalisations, arguing attributing Trump’s win to vague notions of “4chan”, “alt-right”, or “trolls” actually bestowed an “atemporal, almost godlike power” to what was actually an “ever-reactive anonymous online collective”. Therefore, they called to refrain from making claims about opaque spaces like 4chan without first “plotting the landscape” and “safeguarding the actual record”. Indeed, “when it comes to 4chan and Anonymous”, Phillips et al. warned, “nobody steps in the same river twice”.This text answers the call to map anonymous online groups by engaging with the complexity of testing the muddy waters of the ever-changing and dissimulative 4chan-current. It first argues how anti-structuralist research outlooks can answer to many of the pitfalls arising from this complex task. Afterwards, it traces the word trump as it was used on 4chan/pol/ to problematise some of the above-mentioned media narratives. How did anons consider Trump, and how did the /pol/-current change during the build-up of the 2016 U.S. elections and afterwards?On Researching Masked and Dissimulative ExtremistsWhile potentially playing into the self-imagination of malicious actors (Phillips et al.), the frequent appearance of overblown narratives on 4chan is unsurprising considering the peculiar affordances of imageboards. Imageboards are anonymous – no user account is required to post – and ephemeral – posts are deleted after a certain amount of activity, sometimes after days, sometimes after minutes (Bernstein et al.; Hagen). These affordances complicate studying collectives on imageboards, with the primary reasons being that 1) they prevent insights into user demographics, 2) they afford particularly dissimulative, playful discourse that can rarely be taken at face value (Auerbach; de Zeeuw and Tuters), and 3) the sheer volume of auto-deleted activity means one has to stay up-to-date with a rapid waterfall of subcultural ephemera. Additionally, the person stepping into the muddy waters of the chan-river also changes their gaze over time. For instance, Phillips bravely narrates how she once saw parts of the 4chan-stream as “fun” to only later realise the blatantly racist elements present from the start (“It Wasn’t Just”).To help render legible the changing currents of imageboard activity without relying on vague understandings of the “alt-right”, “trolls”, or “Anonymous”, anti-structuralist research outlooks form a possible answer. Around 1900, sociologists like Gabriel Tarde already argued to refrain from departing from structuralist notions of society and instead let social compositions arise through iterative tracing of minute imitations (11). As described in Bruno Latour’s Reassembling the Social, actor-network theory (ANT) revitalises the Tardean outlook by similarly criticising the notion of the “social” and “society” as distinct, sui-generis entities. Instead, ANT advocates tracing “flat” networks of agency made up of both human and non-human actors (165-72). By tracing actors and describing the emerging network of heterogeneous mediators and intermediaries (105), one can slowly but surely get a sense of collective life. ANT thus takes a page from ethnomethodology, which advocates a similar mapping of how participants of a group produce themselves as such (Garfinkel).For multiple reasons, anti-structuralist approaches like ANT can be useful in tracing elusive anonymous online groups and their changing compositions. First, instead of grasping collectives on imageboards from the outset through structuralist notions, as networked individuals, or as “amorphous and formless entities” (see e.g. Coleman 113-5), it only derives its composition after following where its actors lead. This can result in an empirical and literally objective mapping of their collectivity while refraining from mystifications and non-existent connections–so often present in popular narratives about “trolls” and the “alt-right”. At the same time, it allows prominent self-imaginations and mythologizations – or, in ANT-parlance, “localisations of the global” (Latour 173-190) – rise to the surface whenever they form important actors, which, as we will see, tends to happen on 4chan.Second, ANT offers a useful lens with which to consider how non-human actors can uphold a sense of collectivity within anonymous imageboards. This can include digital objects as part of the infrastructure–e.g. the automatically assigned post numbers having mythical value on 4chan (Beran, It Came From 69)–but also cultural objects like words or memes. Considering 4chan’s anonymity, this focus on objects instead of individuals is partly a necessity: one cannot know the exact amount and flow of users. Still, as this text seeks to show, non-human actors like words or memes can form suitable actors to map the changing collectivity of anonymous imageboard users in the absence of demographic insights.There are a few pitfalls worth noting when conducting ANT-informed research into extremist spaces like 4chan/pol/. The aforementioned ironic and dissimulative rhetoric of anonymous forum culture (de Zeeuw and Tuters) means tracing is complicated by implicit (yet omnipresent) intertextual references undecipherable to the untrained eye. Even worse, when misread or exaggerated, such tracing efforts can play into trolling tactics. This can in turn risk what Phillips calls “giving oxygen” to bigoted narratives by amplifying their presence (“Oxygen”). Since ANT does not prescribe what sort of description is needed (Latour 149), this exposure can be limited and/or critically engaged with by the researcher. Still, it is inevitable that research on extremist collectives adds at least some garbage to already polluted information ecologies (Phillips and Milner 2020), even when “just” letting the actors speak (Venturini). Indeed, this text will unfortunately also show hate speech terms below.These complications of irony and amplification can be somewhat mitigated by mixing ethnographic involvement with computational methods. Together, they can render implicit references explicit while also mapping broad patterns in imitation and preventing singular (misleading) actors from over-dominating the description. When done well, such descriptions do not only have to amplify but can also marginalise and trivialise. An accurate mapping can thereby counter sensationalist media narratives, as long as that is where the actors lead. It because of this potentiality that anti-structuralist tracing of extremist, dissimulative online groups should not be discarded outright.Stopping Momentarily to Test the WatersTo put the above into practice, what follows is a brief case study on the term trump on 4chan/pol/. Instead of following users, here the actor trump is taken an entry point for tracing various assemblages: not only referring to Donald J. Trump as an individual and his actions, but also to how /pol/-anons imagine themselves in relation to Trump. In this way, the actor trump is a fluid one: each of its iterations contains different boundaries and variants of its environment (de Laet and Mol 252). By following these environments, can we make sense of how the delirious 2016 U.S. election cycle played out on /pol/, a space described as the “skeleton key to the rise of Trump” (Beran, 4chan)?To trace trump, I use the 4plebs.com archive, containing almost all posts made on /pol/ between late-2013 and early 2018 (the time of research). I subsequently use two text mining methods to trace various connections between trump and other actors and use this to highlight specific posts. As Latour et al. note, computational methods allow “navigations” (593) of different data points to ensure diverse empirical perspectives, preventing both structuralist “zoomed-out” views and local contexts from over-dominating. Instead of moving between micro and macro views, such a navigation should therefore be understood as a “circulation” around the data, deploying various perspectives that each assemble the actors in a different way. In following this, the case study aims to demonstrate how, instead of a lengthy ethnographic account, a brief navigation using both quali- and quantitative perspectives can quickly demystify some aspects of seemingly nebulous online groups.Tracing trump: From Meme-Wizard to Anti-Semitic TargetTo get a sense of the centrality of Trump on /pol/, I start with post frequencies of trump assembled in two ways. The first (Figure 1) shows how, soon after the announcement of Trump’s presidential bid on 16 June 2015, around 100,000 comments mention the word (2% of the total amount of posts). The frequencies spike to a staggering 8% of all comments during the build-up to Trump’s win of the Republican nomination in early 2016 and presidential election in November 2016. Figure 1: The absolute and relative amount of posts on 4chan/pol/ containing the word trump (prefixes and suffixes allowed).To follow the traces between trump and the more general discourse surrounding it, I compiled a more general “trump-dense threads” dataset. These are threads containing thirty or more posts, with at least 15% of posts mentioning trump. As Figure 2 shows, at the two peaks, 8% of any thread on /pol/ was trump-dense, accounting for approximately 15,000 monthly threads. While Trump’s presence is unsurprising, these two views show just how incredibly central the former businessman was to /pol/ at the time of the 2016 U.S. election. Figure 2: The absolute and relative amount of threads on 4chan/pol/ that are “trump-dense”, meaning they have thirty comments or more, out of which at least 15% contain the word trump (prefixes and suffixes allowed).Instead of picking a certain moment from these aggregate overviews and moving to the “micro” (Latour et al.), I “circulate” further with Figure 3, showing another perspective on the trump­-dense thread dataset. It shows a scatter plot of trump-dense threads grouped per week and plotted according to how similar their vocabulary is. First, all the words per week are weighted with tf-idf, a common information retrieval algorithm that scores units on the basis if they appear a lot in one of the datasets but not in others (Spärck-Jones). The document sets are then plotted according to the similarity of their weighted vocabulary (cosine similarity). The five highest-scoring terms for the five clusters (identified with K-means) are listed in the bottom-right corner. For legibility, the scatterplot is compressed by the MDS algorithm. To get a better sense of specific vocabulary per week, terms that appeared in all weeks are filtered out (like trump or hillary). Read counterclockwise, the nodes roughly increase in time, thus showing a clear temporal change of discourse, with the first clusters being more similar in vocabulary than the last, and the weeks before and after the primary election (orange cluster) showing a clear gap. Figure 3: A scatterplot showing cosine distances between tf-idf weighted vocabularies of trump-dense threads per week. Compressed with MDS and coloured by five K-means clusters on the underlying tf-idf matrix (excluding terms that appeared in all weeks). Legend shows the top five tf-idf terms within these clusters. ★ denotes the median week in the cluster.With this map, we can trace other words appearing around trump as significant actors in the weekly documents. For instance, Trump-supportive words like stump (referring to “Can’t Stump the Trump”) and maga (“Make America Great Again”) are highly ranked in the first two clusters. In later weeks, less clearly pro-Trump terms appear: drumpf reminds of the unattractive root of the Trump family name, while impeached and mueller show the Russia probe in 2017 and 2018 were significant in the trump-dense threads of that time. This change might thus hint at growing scepticism towards Trump after his win, but it is not shown how these terms are used. Fortunately, the scatterplot offers a rudder with which to navigate to further perspectives.In keeping with Latour’s advice to keep “aggregate structures” and “local contexts” flat (165-72), I contrast the above scatterplot with a perspective on the data that keeps sentence structures intact instead of showing abstracted keyword sets. Figure 4 uses all posts mentioning trump in the median weeks of the first and last clusters in the scatterplot (indicated with ★) and visualises word trees (Wattenberg and Viégas) of most frequent words following “trump is a”. As such, they render explicit ontological associations about Trump; what is Trump, according to /pol/-anons? The first word tree shows posts from 2-8 November 2015, when fifteen Republican competitors were still in the race. As we have seen in Figure 1, Trump was in this month still “only” mentioned in around 50,000 posts (2% of the total). This word tree suggests his eventual nomination was at this point seen as an unlikely and even undesirable scenario, showing derogatory associations like retard and failure, as well as more conspiratorial words like shill, fraud, hillary plant, and hillary clinton puppet. Notably, the most prominent association, meme, and others like joke and fucking comic relief, imply Trump was not taken too seriously (see also Figure 5). Figure 4: Word trees of words following “trump is a” in the median weeks of the first and last clusters of the scatterplot. Made with Jason Davies’s Word Tree application. Figure 5: Anons who did not take Trump seriously. Screencapture taken from archive.4plebs.org (see post 1 and post 2 in context).The first word tree contrast dramatically with the one from the last median week from 18 to 24 December 2017. Here, most associations are anti-Semitic or otherwise related to Judaism, with trump most prominently related to the hate speech term kike. This prompts several questions: did /pol/ become increasingly anti-Semitic? Did already active users radicalise, or were more anti-Semites drawn to /pol/? Or was this nefarious current always there, with Trump merely drawing anti-Semitic attention after he won the election? Although the navigation did not depart from a particular critical framework, by “just following the actors” (Venturini), it already stumbled upon important questions related to popular narratives on 4chan and the alt-right. While it is tempting to stop here and explain the change as “radicalisation”, the navigation should continue to add more empirical perspectives. When doing so, the more plausible explanation is that the unlikely success of Trump briefly attracted (relatively) more diverse and playful visitors to /pol/, obscuring the presence and steady growth of overt extremists in the process.To unpack this, I first focus on the claim that a (relatively) diverse set of users flocked to /pol/ because of the Trump campaign. /pol/’s overall posting activity rose sharply during the 2016 election, which can point to already active users becoming more active, but is likely mostly caused by new users flocking to /pol/. Indeed, this can be traced in actor language. For instance, many anons professed to be “reporting in” from other 4chan boards during crucial moments in the campaing. One of the longest threads in the trump-dense threads dataset (4,504 posts) simply announces “Cruz drops out”. In the comments below, multiple anons state they arrived from other boards to join the Trump-infused activity. For instance, Figure 6 shows an anon replying “/v/ REPORTING IN”, to which sixty other users reacted by similarly affirming themselves as representatives from other boards (e.g. “/mu/ here. Ready to MAGA”). While but another particular view, this implies Trump’s surprising nomination stimulated a crowd-like gathering of different anons jumping into the vortex of trump-related activity on /pol/. Figure 6: Replies by outside-anons “reporting in” the sticky thread announcing Ted Cruz's drop out, 4 May 2016. Screenshots taken from 4plebs.org (see post 1 and post 2 in context).Other actor-language further expresses Trump’s campaign “drew in” new and unadjusted (or: less extreme) users. Notably, many anons claimed the 2016 election led to an “invasion of Reddit users”. Figure 7 shows one such expression: an annotated timeline of /pol/’s posting activity graph (made by 4plebs), posted to /pol/ on 26 February 2016 and subsequently reposted 34 times. It interprets 2016 as a period where “Trump shit goes into overdrive, meme shit floods /pol/, /pol/ is now reddit”. Whether these claims hold any truth is difficult to establish, but the image forms an interesting case of how the entirety “/pol/” is imagined and locally articulated. Such simplistic narratives relate to what Latour calls “panoramas”: totalising notions of some imagined “whole” (188-90) that, while not to be “confused with the collective”, form crucial data since they express how actors understand their own composition (190). Especially in the volatile conditions of anonymous and ephemeral imageboards, repeated panoramic narratives can help in constructing a sense of cohesion–and thereby also form interesting actors to trace. Indeed, following the panoramic statement “/pol/ is now reddit”, other gatekeeping-efforts are not hard to find. For instance, phrases urging other anons to go “back to reddit” (occurring in 19,069 posts in the total dataset) or “back to The_Donald” (a popular pro-Trump subreddit, 1,940 posts) are also particularly popular in the dataset. Figure 7: An image circulated on /pol/ lamenting that "/pol/ is now reddit" by annotating 4plebs’s posting metrics. Screenshot taken from archive.4plebs.org (see posts).Did trump-related activity on /pol/ indeed become more “meme-y” or “Reddit-like” during the election cycle, as the above panorama articulates? The activity in the trump-dense threads seems to suggest so. Figure 8 again uses the tf-idf terms from these threads, but here with the columns denoting the weeks and the rows the top scoring tf-idf terms of their respective week. To highlight relevant actors, all terms are greyed out (see the unedited sheet here), except for several keywords that indicate particularly playful or memetic vernacular: the aforementioned stump, emperor, referring to Trump’s nickname as “God Emperor”; energy, referring to “high energy”, a common catchphrase amongst Trump supporters; magic, referring to “meme magic”, the faux-ironic belief that posting memes affects real-life events; and pepe, the infamous cartoon frog. In both the tf-idf ranking and the absolute frequencies, these keywords flourish in 2016, but disappear soon after the presidential election passes. The later weeks in 2017 and 2018 rarely contain similarly playful and memetic terms, and if they do, suggest mocking discourse regarding Trump (e.g. drumpf). This perspective thus pictures the environment around trump in the run-up to the election as a particularly memetic yet short-lived carnival. At least from this perspective, “meme shit” thus indeed seemed to have “flooded /pol/”, but only for a short while. Figure 8: tf-idf matrix of trump-dense threads, columns denoting weeks and rows denoting the top hundred most relevant terms per week. Download the full tf-idf matrix with all terms here.Despite this carnivalesque activity, further perspectives suggest it did not go at the expense of extremist activity on /pol/. Figure 9 shows the absolute and relative counts of the word "jew" and its derogatory synonym "kike". Each of these increases from 2015 onwards. As such, it seems to align with claims that Trump’s success and /pol/ becoming increasingly extremist were causally related (Thompson). However, apart from possibly confusing correlation with causation, the relative presence remains fairly stable, even slightly decreasing during the frenzy of the Trump campaign. Since we also saw Trump himself become a target for anti-Semitic activity, these trendlines rather imply /pol/’s extremist current grew proportionally to the overall increase in activity, and increased alongside but not but necessarily as a partisan contingent as a result of Trump’s campaign. Figure 9: The absolute and relative frequency of the terms "jew" and "kike" on 4chan/pol/.ConclusionCombined, the above navigation implies two main changes in 4chan/pol/’s trump-related current. First, the climaxes of the 2016 Republican primaries and presidential elections seem to have invoked crowd-like influxes of (relatively) heterogeneous users joining the Trump-delirium, marked by particularly memetic activity. Second, /pol/ additionally seemed to have formed a welcoming hotbed for anti-Semites and other extremists, as the absolute amount of (anti-Semitic) hate speech increased. However, while already-present and new users might have been energised by Trump, they were not necessarily loyal to him, as professed by the fact that Trump himself eventually became a target. Together with the fact that anti-Semitic hate speech stayed relatively consistent, instead of being “countercultural” (Nagle) or exclusively pro-Trump, /pol/ thus seems to have been composed of quite a stable anti-Semitic and Trump-critical contingent, increasing proportionally to /pol/’s general growth.Methodologically, this text sought to demonstrate how a brief navigation of trump on 4chan/pol/ can provide provisional yet valuable insights regarding continuously changing current of online anonymous collectives. As the cliché goes, however, this brief exploration has left more many questions, or rather, it did not “deploy the content with all its connections” (Latour 147). For instance, I have not touched on how many of the trump-dense threads are distinctly separated and pro-Trump “general threads” (Jokubauskaitė and Peeters). Considering the vastness of such tasks, the necessity remains to find appropriate ways to “accurately map” the wild currents of the dissimulative Web–despite how muddy they might get.NoteThis text is a compressed and edited version of a longer MA thesis available here.ReferencesAbramson, Seth. “Listen Up, Progressives: Here’s How to Deal with a 4Chan (“Alt-Right”) Troll.” Medium, 2 May 2017. <https://medium.com/@Seth_Abramson/listen-up-progressives-heres-how-to-deal-with-a-4chan-alt-right-troll-48594f59a303>.Auerbach, David. “Anonymity as Culture: Treatise.” Triple Canopy, n.d. 22 June 2020 <https://www.canopycanopycanopy.com/contents/anonymity_as_culture__treatise>.Beran, Dale. “4chan: The Skeleton Key to the Rise of Trump”. Medium, 14 Feb. 2017. <https://medium.com/@DaleBeran/4chan-the-skeleton-key-to-the-rise-of-trump-624e7cb798cb>.Beran, Dale. It Came from Something Awful: How a Toxic Troll Army Accidentally Memed Donald Trump into Office. New York: All Points Books, 2019.Bernstein, Michael S, Andrés Monroy-Hernández, Drew Harry, Paul André, Katrina Panovich, and Greg Vargas. “4chan and /b/: An Analysis of Anonymity and Ephemerality in a Large Online Community.” Proceedings of the Fifth International AAAI Conference on Weblogs and Social Media, 2011.Coleman, Gabriella. Hacker, Hoaxer, Whistleblower, Spy: The Many Faces of Anonymous. London: Verso Books, 2014.De Laet, Marianne, and Annemarie Mol. “The Zimbabwe Bush Pump: Mechanics of a Fluid Technology.” Social Studies of Science 30.2 (2000): 225–263. 1 May 2020 <https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/030631200030002002>. De Zeeuw, Daniel, and Marc Tuters. “Teh Internet Is Serious Business: On the Deep Vernacular Web Imaginary.” Cultural Politics 16.2 (2020).Dewey, Caitlin. “The Only True Winners of this Election are Trolls.” The Washington Post, 3 Nov. 2016. <https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/the-intersect/wp/2016/11/03/the-only-true-winners-of-this-election-are-trolls/>.Faris, Robert, Hal Roberts, Bruce Etling, Nikki Bourassa, Ethan Zuckerman, and Yochai Benkler. “Partisanship, Propaganda, and Disinformation: Online Media and the 2016 U.S. Presidential Election.” Berkman Klein Center Research Publication, 2017. <http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:HUL.InstRepos:33759251>.Garfinkel, Harold. Studies in Ethnomethodology. New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1967.Hagen, Sal. “Rendering Legible the Ephemerality of 4chan/pol/.” OILab.eu, 12 Apr. 2020. <https://oilab.eu/rendering-legible-the-ephemerality-of-4chanpol/>.Hawley, George. Making Sense of the Alt-Right. New York: Columbia UP, 2017.Jokubauskaitė, Emilija, and Stijn Peeters. “Generally Curious: Thematically Distinct Datasets of General Threads on 4chan/Pol/”. Proceedings of the International AAAI Conference on Web and Social Media 14.1 (2020): 863-7. <https://www.aaai.org/ojs/index.php/ICWSM/article/view/7351>.Latour, Bruno. Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-Network Theory. New York: Oxford UP, 2005.Latour, Bruno, Pablo Jensen, Tommaso Venturini, Sébastian Grauwin, and Dominique Boullier. “‘The Whole Is Always Smaller than Its Parts’. A Digital Test of Gabriel Tarde’s Monads.” British Journal of Sociology 63.4 (2012): 590-615.Marantz, Andrew. Antisocial: Online Extremists, Techno-Utopians, and the Hijacking of the American Conversation. New York: Penguin Random House, 2019.Nagle, Angela. Kill All Normies: Online Culture Wars from 4chan and Tumblr to Trump and the White House. Winchester: Zero Books, 2017.Phillips, Whitney. This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: Mapping the Relationship between Online Trolling and Mainstream Culture. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2015.———. “The Alt-Right Was Conjured Out of Pearl Clutching and Media Attention.” Motherboard, 12 Oct. 2016 <https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/jpgaeb/conjuring-the-alt-right>.———. “The Oxygen of Amplification: Better Practices for Reporting on Extremists, Antagonists, and Manipulators Online.” Data & Society, 2018. <https://datasociety.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/1_PART_1_Oxygen_of_Amplification_DS.pdf>.———. “It Wasn’t Just the Trolls: Early Internet Culture, ‘Fun,’ and the Fires of Exclusionary Laughter.” Social Media + Society (2019). <https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/2056305119849493>.Phillips, Whitney, Gabriella Coleman, and Jessica Beyer. “Trolling Scholars Debunk the Idea That the Alt-Right’s Shitposters Have Magic Powers.” Motherboard, 22 Mar. 2017. <https://motherboard.vice.com/en_us/article/z4k549/trolling-scholars-debunk-the-idea-that-the-alt-rights-trolls-have-magic-powers>.Robertson, Adi. “Hillary Clinton Exposing Pepe the Frog Is the Death of Explainers.” The Verge, 15 Sep. 2016. <https://www.theverge.com/2016/9/15/12926976/hillary-clinton-trump-pepe-the-frog-alt-right-explainer>.Spärck Jones, Karen. “A Statistical Interpretation of Term Specificity and its Application in Retrieval.” Journal of Documentation 28.1 (1972): 11-21.Stuart, Tessa. “Inside the DeploraBall: The Trump-Loving Trolls Plotting a GOP Takeover.” Rolling Stone, 20 Jan. 2017. <https://www.rollingstone.com/politics/politics-features/inside-the-deploraball-the-trump-loving-trolls-plotting-a-gop-takeover-128128/>.Tarde, Gabriel. The Laws of Imitation. Ed. and trans. Elsie Clews Parsons. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1903.Thompson, Andrew. “The Measure of Hate on 4chan.” Rolling Stone, 10 May 2018. <https://www.rollingstone.com/politics/politics-news/the-measure-of-hate-on-4chan-627922/>.Venturini, Tommaso. “Diving in Magma: How to Explore Controversies with Actor-Network Theory.” Public Understanding of Science 19.3 (2010): 258-273.Wattenberg, Martin, and Fernanda Viégas. “The Word Tree, an Interactive Visual Concordance.” IEEE Transactions on Visualization and Computer Graphics 14.6 (2008): 1221-1228.