Execution of Yeshua Ha-Nozri

The execution of Yeshua Ha-Nozri on Bald Mountain is the novel's central historical event, a judicial murder that exposes the cowardice of Pontius Pilate and the brutal machinery of Roman power, while simultaneously revealing the unwavering truth of Yeshua's philosophy and the desperate, futile love of his disciple Matthew Levi.

Causes and Background

The execution is the direct consequence of Pontius Pilate's moral failure. During his interrogation of Yeshua, Pilate recognized the prisoner's innocence and even found a formula to acquit him: the vagrant philosopher was mentally ill, his utopian talk might cause disturbances, and he should be confined to Stratonian Caesarea. However, when the secretary handed Pilate a second piece of parchment revealing that Yeshua had spoken about the authority of Caesar, everything changed. Pilate saw a vision: the prisoner's head floated away, replaced by the toothless, cankered head of the aged Tiberius Caesar, and he heard the words "The law of lese-majesty." In that moment, Pilate understood that confirming the death sentence was the only way to save himself. He confirmed the sentence passed by the Lesser Sanhedrin, then ordered Mark Ratslayer to hand the criminal over to the head of the secret service with a directive that Yeshua be separated from the other condemned men and that soldiers be forbidden to speak with him. Pilate's subsequent attempt to save Yeshua by appealing to the high priest Joseph Kaifa to release him instead of Bar-Rabban was a hollow performance; he knew Kaifa would refuse, and the refusal allowed Pilate to wash his hands of the matter while preserving his own position.

The Procession and the Cordon

The execution took place on the afternoon of the fourteenth of Nisan. The sun was already going down over Bald Mountain when the cavalry ala that had cut across the procurator's path around noon reached the foot of the hill. The ala dismounted, broke into squads, and cordoned off the whole foot of the hill, leaving open only the way up from the Jaffa road. The second cohort of the Lightning legion climbed one level higher and encircled the hill in a wreath. Finally, the century under Mark Ratslayer arrived, stretched out in files along the sides of the road. Between these files, convoyed by the secret guard, the three condemned men rode in a cart, white boards hanging around their necks with "robber and rebel" written in Aramaic and Greek. The cart was followed by others laden with freshly hewn posts with crosspieces, ropes, shovels, buckets, and axes. Six executioners rode in these carts. They were followed on horseback by Mark Ratslayer, the chief of the temple guard of Yershalaim, and the hooded man with whom Pilate had met in the darkened room of the palace. A file of soldiers brought up the rear, and behind it walked about two thousand curious spectators, undaunted by the infernal heat. The ala admitted everyone to the second level, but the second century let only those connected with the execution go further up, then spread the crowd around the entire hill so that people found themselves between the cordons of infantry above and cavalry below.

The Suffering of the Condemned and the Witnesses

More than three hours passed after the procession climbed the mountain. The heat was still unbearable. The soldiers in both cordons suffered, grew weary with boredom, and cursed the three robbers in their hearts, sincerely wishing them the speediest death. The procurator's apprehensions about disorders in Yershalaim were not borne out; the sun had scorched the crowd and driven it back to the city. Beyond the file of two Roman centuries there were only two stray dogs and green-backed lizards darting among the scorching stones. On the posts, the suffering was unequal. Gestas lost his mind from flies and sun towards the end of the third hour and sang hoarsely about grapes. Dysmas did not lose consciousness and swung his head rhythmically, his ears striking his shoulders. Yeshua was more fortunate: in the very first hour he began to have blackouts and fell into oblivion, his head hanging in its unwound turban. Flies and horseflies covered him completely, his face disappearing under the black swarming mass. Fat horseflies sat sucking at his yellow naked body in his groin, belly, and armpits.

Matthew Levi's Despair and Failed Rescue

The sole spectator who was not a participant in the execution was Matthew Levi. He had established himself on the north side of the hill, in a crevice under a sickly fig tree that gave no shade, sitting on a stone for over three hours. His sufferings were so great that at times he began talking to himself, calling himself a fool, a senseless woman, a coward. He had made a grave error: two days earlier, in Bethphage, Yeshua had left him alone around noontime, saying he had urgent business in the city. Levi was struck by a sudden, terrible ailment—his whole body filled with fire, his teeth chattered—and he collapsed in a gardener's shed, unable to go anywhere until dawn on Friday. When he reached Yershalaim and learned of the sentence, he ran alongside the procession, and a simple, ingenious thought dawned on him: to bend down, slip between two legionaries, jump into the cart, and stab Yeshua in the back with a knife, crying out "I save you and go with you!" But he had no knife. He ran back to the city, entered a bread shop, and stole a long, razor-sharp bread knife while the woman behind the counter turned around. He ran back to the Jaffa road, but the procession was already at the foot of the hill. He was too late. Now, sitting on the stone, he cursed himself, crushed his flask with his foot, and demanded an immediate miracle from God, shouting that he was convinced of God's injustice and did not intend to believe in him any longer. He cursed God as a black god, a god of evil, a god of robbers. Then a storm cloud rose menacingly in the west, its edges seething with white foam, its black smoky belly tinged with yellow. Levi saw the cavalry regiment bustling about, pulling spears out of the ground, and a little figure in a crimson military chlamys climbing towards the place of execution. A chill came over his heart in anticipation of the joyful end.

The Death and the Aftermath

The man climbing the mountain was the commander of the cohort, who had come galloping from Yershalaim accompanied by an aide. He took Ratslayer aside and whispered something to him. The centurion moved towards the group of executioners. The tribune directed his steps towards the hooded man, who politely rose to meet him. They went over to the posts, joined by the head of the temple guard. Obeying the gestures of the hooded man, one executioner took a spear and another brought a bucket and a sponge to Yeshua's post. The executioner raised the spear and tapped Yeshua's arms, stretched out and bound with ropes to the crossbar. The body gave a start. The executioner passed the tip of the spear over the belly. Yeshua raised his head, his eyes slightly clouded. The executioner said "Drink!" and a water-soaked sponge on the tip of a spear rose to Yeshua's lips. Joy flashed in his eyes, he clung to the sponge and began greedily imbibing the moisture. Dysmas cried out in protest, but Ratslayer shouted him down. Yeshua begged the executioner hoarsely to give Dysmas a drink. It was growing ever darker. The storm cloud had already poured across half the sky. There was a flash and a thunderclap right over the hill. The executioner removed the sponge from the spear, whispered solemnly "Praise the magnanimous hegemon!" and gently pricked Yeshua in the heart. Yeshua twitched and whispered "Hegemon..." Blood ran down his belly, his lower jaw twitched convulsively, and his head dropped. At the second thunderclap, the executioner killed Dysmas and then Gestas with the same words. The hooded man examined the blood-covered Yeshua, touched his foot with his white hand, and said "Dead." The tribune motioned to the centurion and started off the hilltop together with the head of the temple guard and the hooded man. Semi-darkness set in, lightning farrowed the black sky, and the centurion's shout "Raise the cordon!" was drowned in rumbling. Torrents of rain poured down, catching the centuries halfway down the hill. A few minutes later only one man remained on the hill: Matthew Levi. Shaking the not uselessly stolen knife, falling from slippery ledges, crawling on his knees, he strained towards the posts. Having made his way to them, he tore off his heavy water-soaked tallith, clung to Yeshua's feet, cut the ropes on his shins, stepped up on the lower crossbar, embraced Yeshua, and freed his arms from the upper bonds. The naked, wet body of Yeshua collapsed on Levi and brought him to the ground. Levi left the body with its thrown-back head and outspread arms on the ground in the water, ran to the other posts, cut the ropes on them as well, and the two bodies collapsed. Several minutes passed, and all that remained on the top of the hill were these two bodies and the three empty posts. Water beat on the bodies and rolled them over. By that time both Levi and the body of Yeshua were gone from the hilltop.