as well, must have made it difficult for him to avoid involvement in political problems. This went counter to his temperament. Not that he was uninterested in political questions, but he envisaged them on the speculative level. He dreaded direct involvement in practical affairs and having to give up his inclination toward contemplation and study. An appeal to his devotion toward his fellow Jews was required to decide him.
He expressed himself on this painful matter of conscience. After having recalled, in a passage we cited above, how he withdrew into solitude in his youth, he continues:
But, as it proved, my steps were dogged by the deadliest of mischiefs, the hater of the good, envy, which suddenly set upon me and ceased not to pull me down with violence till it had plunged me in the ocean of civil cares, in which I am swept away, unable even to raise my head above the water. Yet amid my groans, I held my own, for planted in my soul from my earliest days I keep the yearning for culture which ever has pity and compassion for me, lifts me up and relieves my pain. To this I owe it that sometimes I raise my head and with the soul’s eye see—dimly indeed because the mist of extraneous affairs has clouded their clear vision—I yet make shift to look around me in my desire to inhale a breath of life pure and unmixed with evil (De Specialibus Legibus III, 3–4).21
In what period of his life did Philo begin to be introduced to political matters? The text we just quoted seems to indicate that it was fairly early. His literary work indisputably demonstrates wide knowledge of legal affairs. Moreover, this would form part of the attributions of a rabbi. Palestinian rabbis combined edifying exegesis, Haggadah, with legal casuistry, Halakhah. Whether Philo is linked to these rabbinical traditions is disputed. Heinemann thinks that Philo’s legal references relate to Hellenistic law. But that has been challenged. It certainly seems that Philo is a source for the knowledge of contemporary Jewish casuistry.
This knowledge of jurisprudence gave Philo a competence that must have marked him for public functions. We have no proof that he exercised as a magistrate in the Jewish community. But Goodenough22 concludes that he must have been in charge of the legal administration of Alexandrian Jews under imperial control. It may seem difficult to us to reconcile this with his taste for allegorical speculation. But that shows unfamiliarity with rabbinical mentality in which the two aspects were harmonized quite well. David Daube has shown how speculation and casuistry were combined among the rabbis. Also, Philo’s complex personality must be recognized. His nostalgia for solitude does not prevent his also having a taste for social life. Perhaps it was not as painful a hardship for him as he seems to tell us.
If we have few details about the beginnings of his political career, at least we are amply informed about its principal episode, the diplomatic mission to the Emperor Caligula with which he was entrusted in order to protest against the acts of violence toward the Jewish community of Alexandria of which the legate Flaccus was guilty. This episode is the subject of two works by Philo, On the Embassy to Gaius and Against Flaccus. The historian Josephus has narrated the event. It constitutes the most valuable piece of evidence about Philo’s life that we possess, because it is situated in A.D. 39. Furthermore, it shows him in contact with Roman circles. It is appropriate to insist on that point.
The episode is situated within the framework of a problem we have not yet raised, the relations between Alexandrian Jews and the native Egyptian population. There was a powerful anti-Semitic current within the latter. It was reinforced by the favor the Roman authorities showed to the Jews. In particular this was the case of Philo’s family. We have already mentioned his brother Alexander’s relations with the court at Rome for which he was a banker. In addition, he was in charge of collecting taxes at Alexandria. That must not have made him popular among the Egyptian population. But Roman favor ordinarily sheltered the Jewish population from Egyptian harassment.
This had been the policy of Flaccus Avilius, whom the Emperor Tiberius named governor of Egypt around A.D. 32 Philo himself bears witness to Flaccus’s good government during his first years. But in 37 a major event, the death of Tiberius and the succession of Gaius Caligula, put his post in danger. Flaccus was part of the entourage of Tiberius. With Caligula, son of Germanicus, another clique acceded to power. Flaccus risked disfavor. Now, at this point something happened which must not have disposed him favorably toward Alexandrian Jews and Philo’s family in particular.
This episode involved Herod Agrippa, whose relations with Philo’s brother Alexander we have seen. Herod Agrippa was one of Caligula’s drinking companions and part of his entourage. That had earned him the disfavor of Tiberius, who imprisoned him. Caligula’s accession to the throne meant a change of fortune for Agrippa. Caligula hastened to free him, named him praetor, and gave him his uncle Philip’s old kingdom, Abilene, which extends from Chalcis to Damascus in the north of the Trans-Jordan. Agrippa’s uncle Herod Antipas was then tetrarch of Galilee. Antipas was also Agrippa’s brother-in-law, since he had married his sister Herodias.
Eighteen months after his appointment, Herod Agrippa decided to return to his kingdom. He stopped at Alexandria and stayed at the house of his friend, Philo’s brother Alexander. Philo claims Agrippa traveled with great simplicity. But that would be surprising in this personage. It certainly seems that before shutting himself up in his remote kingdom, he could not resist the temptation to dazzle with sumptuosity the Alexandrian friends who had seen his misfortune and had loaned him money. No doubt “the gold and silver buckles” with which his enemies would accuse him of equipping his guards, were not mere legend.
This must not have been at all pleasant for Flaccus. Now that he was on the edge of disfavor, Agrippa’s star was rising. However little Agrippa hinted at it, it is understandable that Flaccus was completely bitter. Outwardly, he received Agrippa in the most affable way. That was good politics. But he was totally disposed to take revenge. The pagan population of Alexandria provided him with that revenge. As we have said, this population was hardly favorable to the Jews. The luxury that Agrippa flaunted and his connection to Alexander, who was not popular, were irritants.
Alexandria was the land of mimes. The mimes of Herondas came to us from Alexandria. Agrippa furnished a wonderful subject for the comic writers of his time. Philo tells us: “They spent their days in the gymnasium jeering at the king and bringing out a succession of gibes against him. In fact they took the authors of farces and jests for their instructors and thereby showed their natural ability in things of shame, slow to be schooled in anything good but exceedingly quick and ready in learning the opposite” (In Flaccum, 34).23 These manifestations were reaching their height when the mob seized an innocent lunatic named Carabas and led him to the gymnasium. There, a paper diadem was placed on his head, a mat on his shoulders, a reed in his hand, and the crowd hailed him ironically with the title of king. This scene of derision strangely recalls that of Christ in the pretorium and helps us understand it.
There is no reason to suppose that Flaccus provoked the episode, as Philo suggests. But he surely must have done nothing to prevent it. It is understandable that Philo must have resented the offense. Not only did pagans thus ridicule a Jewish prince, but also the prince was the guest of Philo’s brother. The ridicule risked touching Alexander. That can be felt in the report Philo gives about the scene. It is also understandable that he was angry with Flaccus for not having prevented it. “Why did Flaccus show no indignation? . . . For it is evident that if he who could have chastised or at the very least stopped them did nothing to prevent them from acting in this way, they did it with the full permission and consent of him himself” (In Flaccum, 35).24
In itself the incident was unimportant. But it brought Flaccus close to anti-Semitic elements in the city. That was something new. Now Flaccus’s situation was perilous. He could expect nothing from the Jews, partisans of his enemy Agrippa. Support from the city’s pagan inhabitants might help him. Some pagan elements hostile to the Jews also saw their advantage
