The meme is the message.
From the photo of Trump’s fighting fists after the assassination to Kamala sitting on a giant coconut on the cover of New York Magazine, these cultural units distill the personality of the powerful more powerfully than any expert policy paper ever could.
It may surprise many of today’s pundits and X-pontificators who predict that “meme wars will decide this election” that this has been the case since biblical times.
It may surprise many of today’s pundits and X-pontificators who predict that “meme wars will decide this election” that this has been the case since biblical times. Don’t believe me? Ask Isaiah.
You don’t believe me? Ask Isaiah.
By 700 B.C., the Israelite Empire was being invaded by the Assyrians. Ten of our twelve ancestral tribes had already been captured and scattered across the empire’s vast territories. The Assyrian king was the world’s most intimidating monarch, commanding his most feared army. The reception room of his palace – more Iron Throne, less Oval Office – represented his place among the gods.
Anyone who entered saw the king sitting on his throne. Above him was an artistic representation, a so-called pivot relief, which can now be seen in the British Museum. It shows two magical creatures, each with four wings. These heavenly beings flanked an image of the king, who was facing a sacred tree that symbolized the cosmic world order. Above the tree hovers the sun, which represents the god Ashur. The winged creatures carry purification buckets that are supposed to cleanse the king of harmful spirits.
Anyone who saw the picture could not help but admire the steadfastness of this political figure. Protected by the sky, his aura radiated iron strength and unshakeable authority.
This intimidating imagery was pumped into the public consciousness millennia before social media memes, its virality ensured by war. “Assyria’s ideology,” writes contemporary scholar Shawn Zelig Aster, “was … disseminated incessantly through a skillful combination of art, ritual performance, oral communication, and written text, all tailored for consumption by two audiences: the empire’s administrative personnel and the states and regions it sought to dominate.” As with today’s campaigns, the overarching message was impossible to ignore. Assyria saw itself and its king as invincible—the beneficiaries of unique protection and unprecedented power. The throne room image was its powerful meme.
Then came a humble Israelite prophet named Isaiah.
In the sixth chapter of the biblical book that bears his name, he experiences a vision. In it he says:
“I saw my Sovereign sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of God’s garment filled the temple. Seraphim stood above him, each with six wings – two to cover the face, two the body, and two for flying. And one called to the other: ‘Holy, holy, holy! God of hosts – whose presence fills the whole earth!’
“…Then one of the Seraphim, having taken a live coal from the altar with tongs, flew over to me, touched it to my lips and proclaimed: ‘Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt will disappear and your sin will be blotted out.'”
This prophecy plays on the Assyrian depiction of their ruler, taking the meme of the authority of the Assyrian monarch and subverting it by offering a theology of resistance. Unlike the Assyrian version, the winged creatures do not aid God, nor do they purify or protect him in any way. Rather, the heavenly figures prepare the prophet Isaiah for his mission, purifying him as he sets out to give the world visions of nations laying down their swords and lions lying down with lambs. The elements of the meme—the mystical winged creatures offering protection, the looming light—the symbolism meant to portray the Assyrian ruler as all-powerful is taken up and swapped out. Instead, there is a depiction of opposition, of the ultimate rule of the Israelite God and his aspirations for a redeemed world.
There are three lessons to be learned from Isaiah’s interpretation of the monarchist meme that today’s political observers should carefully consider.
First, introspection will always be better than images. Isaiah confessed his all-too-human, sinful struggles. He was not seeking representations of power, but personal advancement. It’s no wonder, then, that his words serve as a resource for those seeking a more just and generous society, while Assyrian imperial meme art sits in a museum – a historical curiosity, encrusted.
Second, seek not domination but a sense of divine national calling. Imagining one’s place among the divine has always been the vision of the powerful. Yet leaders who resisted this all-too-easy urge and instead felt the call to alliance responsibility and overcame divisions with common purpose leave a legacy that endures long after their images have faded.
And finally, as another biblical author, well versed in the fleeting vanity of aesthetics and political authority (and, well, everything else), put it this way: “I have seen slaves on horseback, while princes walked like slaves.” Election seasons alternate. In the meantime, it’s best to seek meaning not in memes but in major policies.
Rabbi Dr. Stuart Halpern is senior advisor to the provost of Yeshiva University and associate director of YU’s Straus Center for Torah and Western Thought. His books include The Promise of Liberty: A Passover Haggadah, which examines the impact of the Exodus story on the United States, Esther in America, Gleanings: Reflections on Ruth, and Proclaim Liberty Throughout the Land: The Hebrew Bible in the United States.
