Jewish communities scattered across the Roman and Persian worlds had long since accepted that they would never control their own political destiny. The catastrophic rebellions of 66-135 CE had taught that lesson permanently. Instead, Jews focused on what they could control - their religion, their law, their internal community affairs. Rabbinic Judaism that emerged after the Temple's destruction in 70 CE created a portable system that worked anywhere. Communities in Babylonia, Egypt, Anatolia, and Europe maintained connections through traveling merchants and scholars, sharing interpretations of Torah, adjudicating disputes according to Jewish law. This network operated above and around state power - Roman, Persian, Gothic, Vandal rulers came and went, but Jewish communities endured by being useful without being threatening. They provided financial services, managed trade connections, offered administrative skills, and asked only to be left alone to practice their faith.
The wealth some Jewish communities accumulated came primarily through commerce. Merchants who could trust coreligionists in distant cities had advantages that others lacked - credit arrangements spanning multiple provinces, reliable information about market conditions, partnerships that transcended ethnic and political boundaries. This commercial success brought both benefits and dangers. Jewish financial expertise made communities valuable to rulers who needed loans or tax collection. But the same visibility that brought opportunity also attracted resentment. Christian and Zoroastrian authorities viewed Judaism as theological error that stubbornly refused correction. Jewish refusal to convert was seen as evidence of dangerous obstinacy. Periodic persecutions drove communities from one region to another, though economic value usually protected them from the worst violence. Jewish fortified settlements existed less as military installations than as refuges where communities could defend themselves when local authorities turned hostile or failed to prevent pogroms.
The lack of military traditions shaped Jewish responses to threats. Communities couldn't and didn't field armies - instead they negotiated, paid, and when necessary fled. This wasn't cowardice but realism. A merchant could rebuild his business in a new city; a dead rebel martyr helped no one. Jewish learning emphasized Talmudic debate over military training, commercial law over siege warfare. When forced to fight, Jewish defenders usually lost. But commercial success provided resources to recover from losses that would have destroyed others. A burned synagogue could be rebuilt, a murdered rabbi could be replaced, a looted community could reconstitute itself elsewhere. What couldn't be replaced was the faith and law that defined Jewish identity. That identity remained non-negotiable even as everything else - language, location, political allegiance - remained flexible. By accepting political weakness, Jews preserved religious continuity. By mastering commerce rather than warfare, they made themselves useful enough to survive in societies that viewed them as theological enemies. Their fortified towns represented not military ambition but the minimum necessary to protect communities that others periodically decided to attack.
