Tamar: Two tales of trauma and reflections from a namesake
- Tamar
- Apr 4
- 9 min read
TW: sexual assault
I often joke that I was born a feminist. How could I not be with a name such as mine? When I ask my mother what inspired her and my father to name me Tamar, I am given a collection of reasons. "We wanted you to have a strong name. One that isn't easy to abbreviate or to 'cuteify', one that does not serve." My parents named me after the first female author to write columns in Vrij Nederland: Renate Rubinstein, who took on the pseudonym Tamar to sign off with on these often woman-centered pieces. And on top of that I was named after two women in the Bible, both from the Old Testament. It is those stories I wish to shed light on today, in my inquiry of self-discovery.

Daughter-in-law of Judah (Book of Genesis)
In chapter 38 of the book of Genesis, we meet Tamar as the wife of Er. Their marriage would be short-lived, however, as her husband dies soon after we are introduced to him. They did not have any children together, and by Jewish Levirate marriage traditions at the time, her father-in-law, Judah, arranged for Tamar to be married to his second son, Onan. This to ensure that Er's lineage - and by extent the lineage of his father - would live on. But Onan had other plans. It would be favorable for him not to have children, as any child he has would inherit part of his father's estate, leaving him with a lower sum of money and a smaller plot of land. He was not going to take that risk. So every time he has sex with Tamar, he lets his seed spill on the floor, as it is described.
Old Testament God did not mess around, so when he caught wind that Onan was avoiding his marital duties, he punished him with death. Yikes. Now widowed a second time over, Tamar was still unsure of a stable future. And Judah, with one son left, grew wary of Tamar. It cannot be a coincidence that two of his sons have died after marrying this woman. She must be lethal. Wicked. He denies her marriage to his youngest son at that moment, telling her to wait until he is older and to go and live under her own father's roof in the meantime. In doing so, he fails to provide her the security that should have been extended to her through marriage. She is disgraced, but there is nothing she can do. She must wait.
And she does. For years and years. Until she realizes that Judah, himself now also a widower, is never going to live up to his promise. She decides to trick him into protecting her. Not much later, she disguises herself as a harlot, or a prostitute, and positions herself on a street corner where she knows he would find her. And find her he did. Not aware that he is speaking to Tamar, he shows interest in her services and hands her his seal and his staff as a pledge of payment which will later be fulfilled monetarily. They have sex, resulting in a pregnancy. Her plan has worked. Judah later sends a friend to find the veiled woman on the street corner in order to fulfill the payment, but she is of course nowhere to be found. Not wanting to risk his reputation by starting a thorough search for a prostitute, he leaves it be.
But when he hears a rumor that his former/future daughter-in-law is with child, thus indicating she has been unfaithful in anticipation of her never-to-be marriage to his youngest son, he marches to her house and publicly demands she is burned to death. Tamar remains calm. She presents the seal and staff and tells him privately that the owner of these items is the father of her child, asking him if he recognizes the objects. He does. And he realizes that it is him who has been sinful, failing to uphold marriage traditions and sleeping with a perceived prostitute. "She is more righteous than I", he proclaims. Tamar is spared and gives birth to twin boys a few months later, symbolically replacing Judah's lost sons and securing her position in the family tree.

Daughter of David (Book of Samuel)
We turn to the book of Samuel for our second story. Tamar is the teenage daughter of king David and resides in the palace along with her (half) siblings. An interesting side note: king David is a descendent of the previous Tamar's son, Perez. Biblical family trees are quite something. Anyhow. Tamar is described as a beautiful girl. She lives under strict supervision in the palace, as she is a young woman whose virginity must be protected until marriage. Two of her siblings are named in this book: her full brother Absalom and her half-brother Amnon, with whom she shares a father.
Amnon is infatuated with his half-sister, romantically, but more likely sexually. He can't approach her, though, because she is not supposed to be alone with men. He asks a friend for advice, who tells him to fake being sick and to get Tamar to take care of him, so they could be alone. So he does, and when David comes to check up on him, Amnon tells his father: "I would like my sister Tamar to come and make some special bread in my sight, so I may eat from her hand." David sends word to Tamar, who gets to baking. When she delivers the bread, Amnon refuses to eat, telling the servants to leave the room and for Tamar to sit closer so she can hand-feed him. Finally alone, he grabs her arm and tells her to come to bed with him. "No!", says Tamar. "Don’t force me! Such a thing should not be done in Israel! Don’t do this wicked thing." Pleading with him to consider that she would be disgraced, even suggesting that David would be able to give him her hand in marriage instead, she tries to stop him. But to no avail. He overpowers her and rapes her.
And then, his lust for Tamar turns into disdain. Hate, even. He demands she leaves. She tells him this order is even more dishonorable than the assault, but he does not listen. Instead ordering the staff to throw Tamar out and to bolt the door behind her. She leaves in tears. When she runs into her brother Absalom, he asks what happened and after she explains, he advises her to not bring it up again. To let it be instead. David is furious but orders no punishment. Tamar is completely disgraced. Her prospects of marriage and security have vanished, and she moves in with her brother Absalom where she spends her life alone.
While Absalom discouraged Tamar from using her voice, he truly is the only man that cares for her. From the moment Amnon rapes her, Absalom makes it his mission to avenge his sister. He devises a plan that would come to fruition two years after the fact. At the annual sheep shearers festival (yes, really), he invites all of his brothers as a gesture of goodwill and to celebrate the occasion together. Wine is flowing, and Absalom says to his servants: "Once Amnon is drunk enough and I give the signal, strike him and kill him." And so they do. All other brothers flee at the sight, and Absalom flees as well to dodge his father's wrath. When his wife gives birth to a daughter, he names her after his sister so that her legacy may live on.
(In)direct (in)justice
Both of these stories have one thing in common: Tamar is continuously failed by the men in her surroundings. It was a time and a religious setting where women could not live a secure life without the protection of their family, be it through birth or through marriage. They were financially and socially dependent on men for that protection under a hyper patriarchal society. And many of the men in these two tales fail to provide the young woman with the security she should have been entitled to. David lets his daughter down by not punishing Amnon, instead leaving her to spend the rest of her days dishonored and alone. Amnon, of course. uses her body for his pleasure against her will, only to discard her after. Onan refuses to provide her with an heir. Judah breaks with marriage traditions, sentencing her to a life of insecurity. In short, both Tamars learn that they cannot count on the men in their lives.
Upon first reading these stories in my teens, I was offended. I marched myself over to my mother, disturbing her peace to ask her why my name came from these horrible stories. My sister's Biblical namesake, Judith, has a sort of Mulan-tale in which she beheads a tyrant that had been plaguing her village. She was badass, assertive, powerful. Why did I get the women that would be defined by the violations done onto them by men? My mother corrected me. These women are strong. Even after the atrocities they suffered, they do not lose sight of who they are. They create their own justice.
It's more obvious in the book of Genesis. Through clever tactics, Tamar is able to claim that which is rightfully hers, putting Judah in his place and exposing to him his sinful actions in the meantime. In the book of Samuel, there is a more indirect form of justice, Tamar being avenged by her brother. It's not as satisfying. But there is another interesting factor in this story. Biblical women's bodies being used by men is a common theme in this holy text, but very rarely is the woman's voice even a component of the tale. Tamar, though, has an active voice. Telling Amnon 'no', advocating for herself, being a voice of reason, even if that voice is drowned out. Much of her narrative is decided for her, but that which she is able to control, she does, and rightfully so.
Lessons to learn?
Admittedly my knowledge of Christianity is limited. But if there's one thing I know, it's that there are lessons to be drawn from even the most devastating of verses. So I got to reflecting, as I often do. And I think the message I take from both stories is to stand in your power, even in difficult times, even in the face of injustice. I've fortunately never experienced situations such as these two women, but it happens often enough that I encounter an issue where I may know that I am justified in my stance or my reaction, but I still feel unable to properly express myself. I think many women must experience this. From a young age, we are conditioned and trained to be peacekeepers and to put the needs of others before our own. As a result, we tend to leave our frustrations unacknowledged. When we do, though, express dissatisfaction, perhaps with an undertone of anger, the response we receive is quite often dismissive. "You're overreacting. You're blowing up out of nowhere over something tiny. Why are you making an issue about this?" Or we are flat-out ignored, maybe even shunned, like Tamar was multiple times in the book of Samuel.
It's frustrating, and it leads us to second-guess bringing up grievances with somebody the next time we feel that creeping in. Which leads to repressed anger, which leads to build-ups and perhaps explosions. It's a vicious circle - pun intended. I've been reading this book by Soraya Chemaly (2018) titled Rage Becomes Her: The power of women's anger, that has given me many lightbulb-moments and that describes this phenomenon exactly. I could highlight many of those moments, but I'll stick to one or two. Chemaly writes that anger is experienced and perceived differently between men and women. Men often associate their anger with feeling powerful, whereas women tend to associate it rather with powerlessness. It is less socially acceptable for women to express anger, which is why it can be masked by other more "feminine" emotions such as sadness, even though studies show that women experience anger more often and more intensely than men. A woman's rage is even considered a threat, or a danger, at times. This goes deeper than mere verbal or physical outbursts, because, as Chemaly writes, expressions of anger show the world that we take ourselves seriously. And that might be the most threatening part of it all.
The book spans about 350 pages and I'm only halfway through, so you're getting a tiny sparknotes version here. But it reminded me of the Tamars I've been reading so much about. I admire these women for being able to voice their worth and their needs, even in highly disheartening and unfair situations. Their rage fuels a quest for righteousness, rather than a spiral of despair, which is easy to fall into in situations such as these. It's definitely aspirational. So I suppose I owe my mother a "you were right". It took me about ten years, but I see it now. I quite like my name.
Some calmness
I came across this lovely tune while researching my Biblical namesakes, and I figured it would be a calming way to end this admittedly heavy exploration. So I will leave you with this.
Thanks for taking us on this insightful journey with you!