Was Queen Zenobia Jewish? Religion, Power, and the Jewish Communities of Ancient Palmyra
In the third century CE, the Roman Empire faced one of the most dangerous crises in its history.
Its armies suffered humiliating defeats against the Persian Empire. Rival commanders declared themselves emperors. Entire regions slipped from Rome's control.
Amid this instability, an extraordinary woman emerged from the wealthy trading city of Palmyra, in present-day Syria.
Her name was Zenobia.
Within a few years, she established control over much of the Roman East, including territories in Syria, Egypt, and the Levant. Her achievements made her one of the most remarkable political figures of late antiquity.
But there is a less familiar question about Zenobia that historians have debated: Was the queen of Palmyra Jewish?
Some ancient Christian writers described Zenobia as Jewish or as someone who had converted to Judaism.
Those reports have often been treated with skepticism.
Historian Haggai Olshanetsky believes they deserve closer examination. He is a postdoctoral researcher at the Department of Ancient History of the University of Warsaw.
In this episode of The Levantini Podcast, I invited Olshanetsky to discuss his research into Zenobia's possible religious identity, the Jewish communities of Palmyra, and the role religion may have played in her political ambitions.
Our conversation also explored a subject that rarely receives sufficient attention: Jewish military service in the Roman Empire.
This post was generated by AI but edited by me.
Who Was Queen Zenobia of Palmyra?
Zenobia lived during the third-century crisis of the Roman Empire, a period of military defeats, political instability, and competing imperial claims.
For centuries, Rome's principal eastern rival had been the Parthian Empire.
But in the early third century, the Parthian ruling dynasty was overthrown by the Sasanians, who established a more aggressive Persian empire.
The consequences for Rome were severe.
Under Shapur I, Persian armies inflicted repeated defeats on Roman forces.
In 260 CE, the Roman emperor Valerian was captured by the Persians, an extraordinary humiliation for an empire accustomed to presenting its rulers as victorious commanders.
At approximately the same time, the western provinces experienced their own political fragmentation.
A Roman commander named Postumus established a breakaway regime commonly known as the Gallic Empire.
In the East, the city of Palmyra became increasingly important.
Located along major commercial networks connecting the Mediterranean with Mesopotamia, Arabia, and regions farther east, Palmyra had accumulated considerable wealth and influence.
Its leading figure, Odaenathus, helped defend Roman interests against the Persians and gained significant authority in the eastern provinces.
Zenobia was his wife.
After Odaenathus and his elder son were assassinated in the late 260s, Zenobia emerged as the effective ruler on behalf of her surviving young son, Vaballathus.
Over the following years, Palmyrene power expanded dramatically.
Zenobia's forces gained control of territories across the Roman East, including Egypt.
Whether she originally intended to establish a permanently independent empire or ultimately sought imperial power for her son remains uncertain.
What is clear is that her ambitions brought her into conflict with the emperor Aurelian.
In 272 CE, Aurelian defeated Zenobia's forces and brought her reign to an end.
Ancient sources disagree about her subsequent fate.
Some describe her death; others suggest that she was taken to Rome and eventually allowed to live in retirement.
Her political career was brief, but her legacy proved enduring.
Was Queen Zenobia Jewish?
The central question in Olshanetsky's research concerns Zenobia's religious identity.
According to his analysis, six ancient Christian sources, written over several centuries, associate Zenobia with Judaism.
Two describe her as Jewish, while four explicitly refer to conversion.
Olshanetsky argues that these reports should not be dismissed merely because they were written by Christian authors or because they appear in later texts.
Instead, he examines their literary relationships and the traditions that may lie behind them.
A particularly important aspect of his argument concerns the connection between Zenobia and Paul of Samosata, the controversial bishop of Antioch.
Several Christian accounts link Zenobia's religious identity with traditions about Paul.
Olshanetsky suggests that inconsistencies within these narratives may indicate that their authors combined two earlier traditions: one concerning Zenobia's Jewish identity and another concerning Paul of Samosata.
If that reconstruction is correct, the association between Zenobia and Judaism may have circulated independently of the later Christian controversy.
This is a significant proposal, but it remains an interpretation of the surviving sources rather than definitive evidence of conversion.
We do not possess an undisputed contemporary declaration by Zenobia stating that she became Jewish.
Nor can the surviving sources tell us with certainty whether she publicly practiced Judaism, privately adopted Jewish beliefs, or was characterized as Jewish by others for theological or political reasons.
Nevertheless, Olshanetsky believes the cumulative evidence makes the possibility worth serious consideration.
Why Would Zenobia Have Converted to Judaism?
Even if Zenobia's conversion cannot be established conclusively, another question remains.
Why might Judaism have appealed to her?
Olshanetsky approaches this question partly through the political realities of the third-century Roman East.
Zenobia ruled a region containing diverse religious communities.
Traditional polytheistic cults remained important, but Judaism, Christianity, and other forms of monotheistic devotion were also present.
A ruler seeking to consolidate power across such a region needed alliances.
Religious affiliation could provide one means of cultivating them.
Olshanetsky suggests that Zenobia may have found Judaism attractive because of its established communities, its religious prestige, and its potential to strengthen relationships with Jewish supporters.
He also considers the possibility that she may have kept any conversion private or ambiguous.
A public commitment to one religious tradition might have alienated other groups whose support she needed.
An ambiguous religious identity could have offered greater political flexibility.
This interpretation does not require us to assume that Zenobia's religious interests were purely opportunistic.
Personal belief and political calculation are not mutually exclusive.
But the political context helps explain why a queen attempting to build a powerful eastern state might have been particularly attentive to religious alliances.
The Jewish Communities of Ancient Palmyra
One of the most interesting aspects of the discussion concerns the religious environment of Palmyra itself.
Olshanetsky emphasizes that Judaism was not an unfamiliar presence in the region.
Jewish communities existed throughout Roman Syria and Mesopotamia, and Palmyra participated in extensive commercial and cultural networks connecting these areas.
In his interpretation, archaeological evidence and references to Jewish religious activity suggest meaningful connections between Palmyrene society and Jewish communities.
He also discusses the city's religious traditions involving an unnamed or anonymous deity.
Such religious expressions have attracted scholarly attention because they sometimes use terminology that resembles Jewish and other monotheistic language.
The existence of these traditions complicates any attempt to divide the population neatly into Jews, Christians, and polytheists.
Religious identities in the third century could be fluid, overlapping, and difficult to classify using modern categories.
Olshanetsky argues that the wider religious environment of Palmyra helps make Zenobia's possible interest in Judaism historically plausible.
That is different from proving she converted.
But it provides a setting in which the ancient reports become easier to understand.
The Controversy over Paul of Samosata
Another important figure in this story is Paul of Samosata, who served as bishop of Antioch during the third century.
Paul became involved in major theological controversies within early Christianity.
His opponents accused him of holding unacceptable views about Christ and the relationship between Jesus and God.
Later Christian sources also associated him with Zenobia.
Olshanetsky discusses these traditions because they help illuminate the religious politics of the period.
Some Christian writers described Paul's teachings in language that associated them with Judaism.
But accusations of being too Jewish could function as polemical criticisms within Christian theological disputes.
They do not necessarily provide a neutral description of Paul's actual beliefs.
Olshanetsky's argument is that the literary traditions about Paul and Zenobia need to be disentangled before historians can assess what they tell us about the queen.
This is particularly important because religious accusations in late antique sources often reflect the priorities of the authors who preserved them.
Was Ancient Judaism More Diverse Than We Assume?
Our conversation then turned to a broader question.
What did Judaism look like in the third century?
Olshanetsky challenges the tendency to treat rabbinic Judaism as though it represented every Jewish community of the ancient Mediterranean.
Rabbinic traditions were developing, but rabbinic authority was not necessarily accepted by all Jews.
Different communities could maintain distinctive practices and attitudes toward religious art, conversion, and interaction with non-Jewish society.
Olshanetsky prefers to describe some of these broader practices as forms of conventional Judaism rather than automatically labeling them Hellenistic Judaism.
He argues that the latter term can misleadingly suggest that communities influenced by Greek and Roman culture were somehow less authentically Jewish.
A particularly important example comes from the synagogue at Dura-Europos, a city on the Euphrates.
Its third-century synagogue contained elaborate wall paintings depicting biblical narratives.
The paintings include human figures and military imagery.
Their survival was made possible by the defensive earthworks associated with the city's final period before its destruction in the 250s CE.
These paintings demonstrate that at least some Jewish communities embraced extensive figurative religious art.
They also challenge the assumption that all ancient Jews shared a uniform attitude toward images.
For Olshanetsky, this diversity is essential to understanding the Judaism that Zenobia might have encountered.
Conversion to Judaism in the Ancient World
The possibility of Zenobia's conversion also raises questions about Jewish attitudes toward converts.
Olshanetsky argues that some Jewish communities were more receptive to conversion than others.
He draws attention to the Hasmonean period, when rulers of Judea incorporated neighboring populations and, according to ancient sources, imposed or encouraged the adoption of Jewish practices.
He also discusses the presence of people attracted to Jewish worship and customs without necessarily becoming full converts.
These individuals are often discussed under the broad category of God-fearers, although their practices and identities varied.
The important point is that the boundaries between Jewish and non-Jewish religious life were not always as simple as modern descriptions suggest.
A non-Jewish ruler might admire Jewish traditions, support Jewish communities, adopt selected practices, or formally convert.
These possibilities should not be collapsed into a single category.
Olshanetsky's proposal concerning Zenobia is therefore situated within a wider history of religious attraction and conversion.
Jewish Soldiers in the Roman Army
Perhaps the most surprising part of my conversation with Olshanetsky concerned Jewish military service.
Modern readers sometimes assume that Jews in antiquity generally avoided serving in Roman armies, particularly because of the history of Jewish revolts against Rome.
Olshanetsky challenges that assumption.
He argues that Jews served in Roman and other imperial armies across different periods, and that their military participation could provide opportunities for advancement and influence.
His discussion includes literary references, funerary inscriptions, and evidence associated with synagogue communities.
One particularly interesting example concerns the Roman emperor Gordian III, who died during a Persian campaign in 244 CE.
A later Roman source, the Historia Augusta, reports that an inscription commemorating the emperor appeared in multiple languages, including one described as Hebrew.
Olshanetsky interprets this as potentially significant evidence of Jewish participation among the troops.
The source is late and notoriously problematic, so the report should not be treated as straightforward proof of the composition of Gordian's army.
Nevertheless, it forms part of the wider evidence he examines.
Olshanetsky also discusses military imagery in the synagogue paintings at Dura-Europos and references to Jewish military personnel in other sources.
He argues that the combination of such evidence supports a more substantial Jewish military presence than is often assumed.
The Jewish General Who Helped Make Vespasian Emperor
A particularly revealing comparison comes from the first century CE.
Tiberius Julius Alexander was a Roman official of Jewish family background who rose to extraordinary prominence.
He served as prefect of Egypt and played an important role in the political events that brought Vespasian to power in 69 CE.
He later served in a senior command position during Titus's campaign against Jerusalem.
His career illustrates the complexity of Jewish identity and Roman imperial service.
A man of Jewish ancestry could occupy important positions within the Roman administration and participate in campaigns that directly affected Jewish communities.
For Olshanetsky, this example helps challenge simplistic assumptions about the political loyalties of Jews in the Roman world.
It also raises an important question about Zenobia.
If Jewish soldiers served within the eastern Roman military establishment, could some have supported the Palmyrene regime when it challenged imperial authority?
Why Might Jewish Soldiers Have Supported Zenobia?
Olshanetsky argues that the political instability of the third century made shifting allegiances understandable.
Roman soldiers often followed regional commanders who appeared capable of protecting their interests.
During civil wars, loyalty to a local military leader could take precedence over allegiance to a distant emperor.
Zenobia and her late husband had built considerable authority in the East.
Their regime could therefore attract support from people who had previously served Rome.
If Zenobia maintained close relationships with Jewish communities—or if some supporters believed she was sympathetic to Judaism—that could have provided an additional incentive.
Olshanetsky is careful to distinguish this political argument from direct proof of conversion.
The existence of Jewish soldiers does not demonstrate that Zenobia became Jewish.
Rather, it helps explain why Jewish alliances might have been politically valuable.
His larger argument is that religion, military power, and political ambition were deeply interconnected in the third-century East.
From Palmyra to the Jewish Kingdom of Himyar?
The conversation also explored a more speculative historical possibility.
Olshanetsky suggests that religious developments in Palmyra may have influenced later monotheistic traditions in southern Arabia.
Palmyra maintained commercial connections with the Arabian Peninsula.
After its defeat, movement of people through these networks could potentially have transmitted religious ideas and practices.
Olshanetsky draws attention to similarities between religious terminology associated with the unnamed deity of Palmyra and later expressions found in South Arabian monotheistic inscriptions.
He discusses the development of Judaism in the Himyarite kingdom of southern Arabia, whose rulers adopted Jewish monotheism in late antiquity.
His proposed connection between Palmyra and Himyar is a hypothesis requiring further evidence.
It should not be mistaken for an established migration or transmission route.
Nevertheless, the question highlights the importance of looking beyond the boundaries of individual empires.
Trade, migration, military service, and religious exchange connected the Mediterranean, Mesopotamia, and Arabia long before the rise of Islam.
What Can We Actually Conclude About Zenobia?
The evidence concerning Zenobia's religion remains contested.
Ancient Christian sources associate her with Judaism, but their dates, literary purposes, and reliability must be examined carefully.
The Jewish presence in Palmyra and the wider Roman East provides a plausible setting for contact with Jewish religious traditions.
The diversity of ancient Judaism also makes it possible that her religious affiliations did not fit neatly into later categories.
And Jewish military service helps explain why cultivating Jewish support might have mattered to an ambitious ruler.
Taken together, these considerations form the basis of Olshanetsky's argument.
But they do not conclusively establish that Zenobia converted.
That distinction is essential.
Historical research often advances not by settling every question, but by showing that familiar assumptions deserve reconsideration.
Zenobia's possible connection to Judaism is one such question.
And it opens onto a much larger story about the religious diversity of the Roman East, the political importance of Jewish communities, and the changing relationship between religion and imperial power.
