‘When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.’
The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance
Our friend Anne rang to tell us the lead codices, and my involvement in the discovery, were all over the web. On taking a look, we were horrified by what we saw: The Lead Codices on Amazon, The Lead Codices translated in Spanish, The Lead Codices translated into French, Portuguese … It went on and on, pages of listings with various online booksellers. The incomplete manuscript had not even been turned in, and at the time this went live on the Internet our contract had not even been signed, yet here it was on a multitude of sites, due out on 5 May 2010 and available for pre-order. So much for our non-disclosure agreement. This did much to explain the frenzy of opposition over the past months.
A few weeks later the phone rang. Much to our surprise, it was Hassan. We hadn’t heard anything from him in months, not since we had been tracked down to our village. ‘Listen David, I want to apologize to you. I want you to know how sorry I am – I have been under a lot of stress.’ He said I had made him angry, but now he was truly sorry for his behaviour. This turn of events completely wrong-footed me – I was not used to Hassan saying sorry. Hassan knew about our forthcoming book, and was keen to talk about it, but I gave little away. As an olive branch, he offered to send us some images of codices that he had not shown us before.
Were Jennifer and I being taken for fools again? Was Hassan’s atonement genuine or was it a honey trap? Despite the unbelievable stress he had put us under, strangely we still felt compassion for the man, and wanted to help him out of the hole he had dug for himself. The Colonel had assured us that, given his cooperation, he would be granted immunity.
We gladly accepted Margaret’s invitation to host a meeting at her home so that we could finally meet Professor Philip Davies, one of the leading scholars of the Dead Sea Scrolls team – in my mind, and in academic circles, he was a living legend. In a field rife with Christian agendas, Philip is renowned for his pragmatic and sceptical approach, believing that religious faith and historical truth are not a recipe for objective scholarship: in his own words, ‘doctrine in effect dictates the agenda.’1
In 1989 Philip, along with his colleague Professor Robert Eisenman, sent a letter to Professor John Strugnell, Head of the International Team of scholars selected to study the Dead Sea Scrolls, with a request to study certain fragments. Prior to this approach, no one had dared to challenge the almost 40-year exclusivity imposed by the Team. The two scholars duly went public via the American and Israeli press when their reasonable request was refused. A firestorm of publicity followed, making the Dead Sea Scrolls a household name.
Margaret was in high spirits as we sat around the table bringing her up to date with the latest intrigue regarding the discovery. She had been in academe long enough to have seen and experienced more than enough bad behaviour in her many years as a Biblical and theological scholar. Since our introduction, Margaret has been and continues to be the lynchpin that has held the whole project together. There is no way we could have succeeded in our efforts without her valuable wisdom every step of the way.
Philip arrived half an hour later, looking like he had just been called in from fieldwork in the Middle East. He was tanned from years of overseeing digs, and looked every inch the image of a British archaeologist. He had a friendly, down-to-earth manner, despite his redoubtable reputation as a scholar.
‘You’ve been lucky to have Margaret on your side. There are people you can trust and people that you definitely cannot trust,’ Philip said.
Margaret agreed. ‘I told David and Jennifer that they would attract dubious and ruthless people like bees to honey when working with something of this magnitude and importance: treasure hunters, jealous academics – anyone out to profit from their struggle.’
‘Not to mention the Israeli side of things,’ Philip added. ‘I hear you have had a bit of a run-in with the IAA?’
Following this prompt, I took out of my bag a letter addressed to Hassan and Boaz from the IAA. ‘In accordance with our meeting at the Israel’s antiquity authorities office dated 6/7/2009,’ it said, ‘I hereby notify you that the antiquities authority has no interest in the objects.’ The letter had been signed by the ‘Manager of Antique Robbery Prevention Unit’.
Philip read the letter and smiled knowingly. ‘You know what this means don’t you? Either one of two things: that they believe the codices to be Christian and therefore of no interest to them or, and I think this is probably the more likely reason, that they know that they were found in Jordan and have deemed them too politically sensitive to get involved in.’
I put to him the question I had been longing to ask right from the beginning. ‘What is your personal opinion Philip? Do you think they are genuine?’
‘Well, my own conclusion is much the same as yours and Margaret’s. If the codices aren’t genuine, they are certainly good forgeries, and I would be a bit surprised if anyone took the trouble to forge this kind of thing. The slight deviations from known materials of the period – and there is not that much – in my opinion tend to favour them being genuine.’
‘What do you make of the linguistics?’ I asked.
‘My own scrutiny of the images suggests to me, and to several of my colleagues whom I have conferred with, that the form of the archaic Semitic script, in use for nearly 3,000 years, corresponds well to what was used at the turn of the era. Likewise, several of the images on the covers reflect the iconography of that period, say 200 BC to AD 100. However, much of the writing appears to be in code, and many of the images are unlike what we might expect from Samaritan or Jewish artefacts of this period: either our knowledge is defective, or we are confronted with something rather different. The possibility of a Hebrew-Christian origin is certainly suggested by the combination of imagery that these artefacts exhibit. If this turns out to be correct, these codices are likely to bring dramatic new light to our understanding of a very significant but so far little-understood piece of history.’
I was thrilled that Philip too, albeit cautiously, was considering the possibility of the codices being Hebrew-Christian.
‘Now, I have something to show you all that I just discovered quite by accident,’ Margaret chipped in excitedly. I’ll just pop in my study and get it.’ She returned moments later with a weighty book on iconography. She opened directly to the page that she had marked with a scrap of paper: the image of Christ Pantocrator from St Catherine’s monastery at Sinai, the oldest-known icon in existence. In this particular image Christ is not only holding a sealed book, but his visage bears a remarkable resemblance to that on the Book of the Face.
‘I know you are all familiar with this icon,’ said Margaret, ‘but what I want to point out is the eight-pointed stars on the upper corners just above Christ’s halo – they are identical to the ones on the codices!’
The rest of the afternoon passed by all too quickly. It was enormously rewarding to be debating academic points with two of the most prominent scholars in the field. Thick tomes covered the long oak table: Hebrew dictionaries, Greek lexicons, The Oxford History of the Biblical World, the Babylonian Talmud, books on the Old Testament, beautifully illustrated books on icons, and dusty out-of-print books on theology. Margaret thumbed through them rapidly, intimately familiar with their well-worn contents. We left the meeting with a renewed sense of purpose and motivation – this was what it was all about.
True to his word, Hassan sent through a series of images depicting more codices – this time made from what appeared to be copper or bronze. However, they were as baffling as they were striking. One in particular featured what appeared to be Alexander the Great’s portrait with a crocodile beneath him. There were the familiar eight-pointed stars and a chariot on the upper left-hand corner, matched by a rather exquisite-looking female on the upper right-hand corner, whom I assumed was meant to be ‘Sophia’, or Wisdom. The depiction of the figures was in stark contrast to the main codex bearing the face of Jesus. The rendering was Hellenistic in style, with a line of Greek letters bordering the top. My Greek was rusty, but I could just make out the ‘AB’ of the name Abgar. I was unsure of its authenticity; however, if it did turn out to be authentic, it would be interesting at some point to have a Greek scholar look at the lettering to see if any sense could be made of it – that is, if it was not encrypted, like the lead codices. It was a matter of finding someone we could trust to keep it confidential.
I forwarded these new images to Margaret and Philip, who were as much surprised by the stylistic differences in the artefacts as by the fact that they were made of either copper or bronze (it was difficult to tell which from the images sent). We had been unable to test them metallurgically, as we had the lead codices. The photographs were of poor quality. However, Margaret and Philip thought it was a remote possibility, though unlikely, that they were authentic, owing to the combination of symbols and figures as well as the use of Greek, which we had not encountered before. We all agreed, however, that this codex, if genuine, would have been a reproduction from a much later date – most likely medieval. Philip stated that it was not uncommon to find artefacts from differing dates in the same hoard. In fact, he assured us, this was a point in favour of authenticity. At the site of the Dead Sea hoard in Qumran, parchments from differing dates had been found ranging from the 3rd century BC up to the 3rd century AD. Apparently medieval texts had been mixed in with ancient scrolls. However, we all had our doubts, and decided that it was best to keep the images to ourselves until we had a chance to see them in person and most importantly to have them tested.
Thanks to Margaret and Val, Jennifer and I were granted an audience with the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Rowan Williams. We showed him the images and briefed him on the scholarly assessment thus far. As one of the world’s leading scholars on iconography, we knew that he would be excited about the discovery. He walked across the room and pulled out a book from his heaving library, quoting passages from sources including Revelation and the Proto-Evangelium of James. His intellect was razor-sharp. He lacked my preliminary advantage of almost three years of exhaustive research, yet was able to zero in immediately on the context and implications of the discovery.
When I mentioned Margaret’s work in his field, the Archbishop’s eyes lit up. Like me, he greatly admired her research in The Great High Priest and The Revelation of Jesus Christ.
‘I think Margaret’s work is absolutely groundbreaking’, I enthused.
‘Yes!’ he keenly agreed with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘That’s exactly why I awarded her with her doctorate!’
Jennifer gave the Archbishop a run-down of all of the trials and tribulations we had been through in our efforts to protect the codices, finishing with our concern for their repatriation. His Grace listened attentively and responded with great sympathy. He requested that we keep him up-to-date with developments. He was keen to do what he could to help.
At the end of the summer Jennifer and I were introduced by Theo, a close friend, to Danesh, an IT expert Theo had met when they had worked together for a well-known antiquities collector. He knew we had been researching websites for a Foundation we hoped to set up with Charles. He quickly dismissed my attempt to discuss technical matters, and instead handed me a document consisting of numerous pages. Glancing through it I noted hundreds of names and signatures of former and current heads of states from around the world. Beside the names were monetary contributions, totalling many hundreds of billions of pounds sterling. I could not imagine what Danesh was doing with such sensitive information.
He went on to explain that he was in charge of security systems for the Office of International Treasury Control (OITC), an elite and secret branch of the United Nations; and he proceeded to show us his identity card, which indeed bore the recognizable UN logo. He told us that he had been asked, at the highest levels of authority, to approach us in secrecy on behalf of the organization to offer us protection. He went on to inform us that we were not the only people to know about the discovery, that they had heard it from others as well. We were more than disconcerted about this information and felt that it would be remiss not to investigate these claims further, despite being in two minds as to whether we in fact had encountered an ally or an enemy in this powerful organization – if indeed it was bona fide. We were instructed that for security reasons we were to refer to each other only by first name and agreed to meet ‘Hugo’, a contact of Danesh’s who was high up in the organization. The only thing we were told about him was that he was well known in the medical profession. He now devoted all of his time to the OITC.
We met at the Bell & Crown pub in Kew, London, a strange choice of venue given the emphasis on secrecy. Hugo’s unkempt appearance immediately put Jennifer and me on our guard. Hugo took notes as we told him about Charles and our aims for a Foundation as well as our desire to get the discovery out in the open in order to protect the codices. However, he seemed more interested in discussing our security needs.
‘Look, I’ve got to be up-front with you both,’ he said. ‘I think your lives are potentially in danger and certainly will be when this comes out.’ It was unnerving to hear this from a stranger, and to realize how much he knew about us. He went on to tell us that the Chief of Cabinet had approved funds to set up our Foundation, as well as for our security. Depending on our agreement to disseminate news of the discovery through their organization, the funds would be available by Christmas. Hugo also told us to expect to travel shortly to Russia and the Far East to meet their contacts there.
Despite very much wanting to believe in the legitimacy of the OITC and the sincerity of its concern, we knew neither what to make of it nor what to do next. Jennifer had a hunch that we should speak to her friend Hamish, an academic, and the head of a historic chivalric society. He was well connected; and if our suspicion was correct that the organization might have a Masonic link, Hamish would be the one to speak to.
We told him about Hugo, not expecting any result – it was a shot in the dark.
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I have heard of him,’ he told us. ‘He is a good friend and associate of Allen Ferkel’s. I met him briefly about 10 years ago at a conference.’ Jennifer and I looked at each other. It was amazing that, after all we had been through, we still had the capacity to be shocked.
Having returned from the Middle East for Christmas, Charles set up a lunch meeting with Dr Neville Morse, a don at Trinity College, Cambridge, with a view to setting up the Foundation. We met up in Cambridge beforehand for a catch-up. Charles was not surprised to find out that the OITC had turned out to be what seemed nothing more than an elaborate hoax. He had smelt a rat long before we had. But he was as surprised as we were that Allen might have been linked to it. He advised us that the only way forward for our security, as well as the security of the artefacts, was to blow open the story in a responsible manner, which is where Neville would be able to help.
Dr Morse was already at our table when we arrived. As Charles had predicted, we got a small lecture on the pitfalls of what we were trying to accomplish, stressing that we should be careful not to raise our hopes too high: there had been countless discoveries that never amounted to much in the end. However, he was intrigued enough to want to hear more, and kindly invited us back to his apartment on campus.
Much to Charles’ surprise, Neville appeared to be quite moved by our story and by the significance of the codices: his tack had markedly changed. Following Charles’ advice, I initially gave a very cautious account of what I thought the codices were. However, when we got to the image of the Book of the Face, he could not hold back any longer. ‘My God!’ he exclaimed. ‘This really is serious. I totally understand now. This changes everything.’
Encouraged by his interest, I shared with him the more controversial aspects of the discovery. Taking everything on board, he asked our permission to call his senior contact in Jordan. Much to our astonishment, he put in the call then and there.
We could hear a man’s voice enthusiastically responding on the other end of the phone. Obviously old friends, they spoke warmly to each other, with much laughter and amusement. The tone became more serious as Neville gave his friend a comprehensive account, expressing concerns for the security both of ourselves and of the artefacts. We had impressed upon Neville that we wanted to hand over not only the tablets but the whole project to Jordan, and that we wanted to help with the repatriation process, which we knew would be a delicate matter.
After putting down the phone, Neville said that his friend in Jordan was extremely interested, wanted to know more, and would like to meet us as soon as possible. ‘I am not surprised that all of this has happened,’ he had told him, ‘we’ve been waiting for something like this for a long time.’ Unfortunately he would not be coming to London until the summer, but hopefully something could be arranged before then. He agreed that a news announcement was absolutely necessary.
Charles suggested that we send him the Due Diligence Report that we had been working on and updating since our first trip to Jordan in 2009, which included analysis from some of the top Biblical scholars around the world. For the sake of confidentiality, we decided to refer to Neville’s contact as ‘P’. We also offered to put together a further summary document outlining the background story of events, including all the mischief as well as all the supporting evidence.
Just before Christmas Hassan rang to tell me that he had just received a call from a ‘Mahmoud’ in London. He asked me to call him back to see what it was all about. It turned out that Mahmoud, who owned a cargo company, was acting on behalf of someone else who was representing a multi-media company in New York. I was immediately on my guard. However, he sounded genuine, and eager to be as transparent as possible. I asked him the name of the company he was representing. ‘SDEMA,’ he replied, enunciating each letter carefully as I jotted down the familiar name in my notebook. He went on to say that there are only four academics in the world who can read the codices: all of them British, one a Cambridge scholar. It was remarkable that he knew all this – the precise number stated in our Due Diligence Document. Where did they get their information?
On Boxing Day Hassan called to wish us a Happy Christmas. He told Jennifer that he had received a call from a man named Hugo claiming to be working on media projects with a publisher in New York. I decided to give Mahmoud a call to get to the bottom of this. I asked him directly to confirm that the name of the man who had approached him was Hugo. To my surprise he confirmed it without hesitation, admitting that he was beginning to feel uncomfortable with his involvement in this affair. He explained that he had injured his ankle and needed some easy work so Hugo had offered to pay him to make contact with Hassan. He sounded tired and frustrated, so I softened my tone and asked him if he had been shown the SDEMA report. He admitted to having seen a printed copy of the report as well as other material, including photographs. ‘I can tell you, David, he knows an awful lot about you.’ I thanked him for his honesty, as he had been most helpful and was innocent in this affair. I warned him that he might get a visit from the police, as the information to which he had been privy had possibly been obtained by illegally hacking into my computer.
Shortly into the New Year we received an email with a Wikipedia web link from Theo. He had been taken aback by Danesh’s deception and had since been doing some research on our behalf. The link was to an article exposing the OITC’s purported Head, Ray Dam, and his partner in crime. Both men were arrested in Vietnam on Saturday 18 December 2010. The article stated that ‘the two were charged with forgery by the Phnom Penh Municipal Court after allegedly fabricating documents claiming ties to the United Nations, the United States government and HSBC Bank’.
The next morning we called Charles to inform him of the events of the past 24 hours. He agreed we now had to work in double-quick time. With our package for ‘P’ finally ready, Charles sent a draft letter to be sent with our Due Diligence Report to us and to Neville for our approval. It was a brilliant letter. We were thrilled to be getting that much closer to a breakthrough.
God sent His image down to earth in the form of a book.
7th-century commentary on the Quran
There are not many images of Christ from before the 6th century, and those that do exist show him as a beardless youth, newly ascended into Heaven. He seems very much the new Apollo in these depictions: a Greek-inspired image of perfection. Or is there more to it than this?
In the first few centuries AD, Jesus was symbolized by the image of a fish or by the labarum, an anchor-shaped cross. One of the first images of the bearded Christ in Western art is to be found in the catacombs of Commodilla, Italy, dating back to the 4th century. Perhaps the most striking early depiction of Christ is one that managed to survive the destruction of the icons throughout the Byzantine Empire in the years AD 730–87: the Christ Pantocrator (the all-Encompassing) found in the monastery of St Catherine’s in Sinai, dating to the 6th century.
Placed alongside the frontal image on the main codex, these faces appear very like each other – so similar, in fact, as to be the same. Both are surrounded by a remarkable halo that serves, aesthetically, to separate the face from its background. The eyes, in each image, are very different from one another: one eye seems to be looking inward, the other outward (in fact, the inward eye is half-covered by shadow, which gives the strange illusion of a face in two halves). The face shows both holiness and introspection, but the significant thing about the icon from Sinai is that, although this is difficult to see in reproductions, it has two eight-pointed stars in the top left- and right-hand corners. This is one of the only instances of eight-pointed stars anywhere other than on the codices.
The Syrian icon of Christ Pantocrator, like other icons, portrays Christ carrying a sealed metal book, whereas the codex image is on a metal book – a book that is sealed all around. The front cover of the codex depicts a bearded man, with a halo framing his portrait. The face reveals much. It has suffering written upon it, and yet it is strangely serene. The codex is sealed on all sides with lead binding rings and contains some script. What stands out in the script is the row of Xs – the ancient Hebrew letter form of Tav, the letter T; otherwise known in the Palaeo-Hebrew alphabet as the cross. X’ is the name of Yahweh – the Lord, the Second God of Israel, Son of God Most High. Quite simply, there is no one other than Christ whom this face could represent. What we are looking at is the first icon. (See figure 1.)
No other theory of identification stands up to close scrutiny. The image is kingly, and it portrays a man who had obviously attained a reasonable level of esteem. The rendering of the image would have been expensive: no one would have gone to this trouble had it not been vitally important to do so. The process of making the face and then setting it in solid lead would have been difficult using the processes of the day. Given the location, it must have been important that the creator was a member of the sect. His silence about what he had created must have been the price of his belief. An early conjecture was that the face was of Simon bar Kokhba, but this is extremely unlikely. The codices are full of Temple symbolism. By the time of bar Kokhba’s revolt (AD 132– 7) the Temple had already been destroyed. Furthermore, bar Kokhba would not have dared to have himself portrayed in this fashion: he had kingly pretensions but had not been acclaimed as a King. Neither was he a Nazirite, a fact that made his claims weaker. Although his name means ‘Son of the Star’, a reference to the prophecy in Numbers 24.17, that did not impress rabbis of the time. They chose to call him ‘Bar Choziba’ – Son of the Liar.2
It is in the Orthodox Church that the practice of the Holy Image has remained strongest, mostly based upon the traditions of the very early Church.3 The word icon (Greek, eikon) means ‘image’:4 the ‘image’ being the heavenly perception of God from beyond the veil of reality – in the form of a divinely appointed representative. This is another reason why Jesus was the only person who could have been represented in such a way.
Before beginning to paint the Holy Image, the icon painter would prepare his ground using a lead-based pigment – lead white. Lead was also symbolic of God, particularly in His Hebrew form, Yahweh. In the portrayal of icons the white ground was seen as giving a clue to the mystical viewer of the vision behind the veil – the veil of the Temple, which divided the Holy of Holies from the inner sanctuary. The iconic portrayal of Jesus is stating, very explicitly, that he was indeed both High Priest and King.
According to the Church, the icons are based upon the icon – the Holy Image, in other words the very first ever portrait of Christ. It is a miracle that it has survived at all.
Yet here it is, at once ghostly and haunting, as if offering us an insight into two worlds, beyond the obvious and the ordinary. This world – and the next: two worlds that entered into the mystical realms of God, and both of them conjoined in the figure of one extraordinary man. History and myth had met and merged. For the makers of the original icons, well aware of the theatre of the day, myth was the guiding hand of spiritual thinking; myth sought to surge beyond reality, into an understanding of the place where humanity meets divinity.
The first clue to such divinity is the halo. There are remarkable similarities with Pharaonic Egypt. In dynastic Egypt the elongated circle, called a cartouche, was used to delineate the name of the Pharaoh, setting it apart from the physicality of the world. The halo served the same function as a cartouche, being an adaptation of it. Now, the Pharaoh was a living god, and the key to his divine power was his name. The New Testament tells us that Jesus was the Logos: the incarnate Word of God – and here he was, the word inside a cartouche. In the 1st-century context of the codex, the idea was quite possibly to demonstrate that, although he was incarnate as the Word, he was a King in the archaic sense of the word: he was in two worlds at once. In the archaic period he would have been recognized as a kind of shaman, inhabiting two worlds at once, a consensus god of his people, whose job it was to heal the pangs of starvation by conciliating with God or the gods and healing the land upon which the people relied to feed themselves and their families.
By the time of Christ, the theology of the King and his relationship with God had become quite complex, being practised around the holy site of the Temple, believed to mark the navel point of the earth – the point from which a descent of the spirit to the other side was said to be more easily attainable.
The idea of the image of Jesus, or eikon, is that this secret image, to be seen by very few, would upon contemplation reveal certain of the mysteries behind the veil – in this case, the veil of flesh. We would be looking into the very nature of God. Such was the immense privilege, but also the tremendous burden, of being the King. What we have here is an example of the old Temple theology meeting the rise of Christianity – in the form of our artefacts.
In this sense the ‘image’ is the idea of God as seen through God’s King/High Priest – his anointed messenger (the Great Angel). This makes Jesus the only person who could have been represented as such without blasphemy.
Great care had been taken to seal the books into their environment and make sure that they were hidden away, beyond prying eyes. Furthermore, from the way in which these books had been bound, in some instances with the binding rings going through some of the symbols, it is very easy and justified to get the impression that this sacred hoard was left in situ in a hurry. Moreover, the way in which they had been hidden gives us another clue to their significance. For the ‘wall’ of icons, or iconostasis, is a thing of resplendent holiness in the Orthodox tradition of the Christian Church. There is more than a hint here of a continuation of ancient religious practice: in other words, the traditions of the Temple encased and encrypted within our discovery.
Why, in the icons, is Jesus holding a book? We have to look at this from the Hebrew-Christian perspective: Jesus, the Logos, was holding the Book of the Law, which he came to embody. The book is not his Gospel: it is his New Covenant with God.
On the Book of the Face the facts are assembled in a way that is reminsicent of an identikit picture – a composite. The early Hebrew-Christian idea of the Incarnation, the notion that God became flesh, had been extant from the older Solomonic Temple period and the older theology of all Israel in the 1st millennium BC, in the person of the Messiah, the King or the Priestly Messiah, Son of Aaron. Alongside the depictions of palm trees, etrogim and pomegranate flowers indicative of the High Priesthood and alongside, of course, the walls of the Temple, the face of Christ helps us to build a picture that becomes cohesive in the light of its presence. The books, in being the New Covenant, are placing Jesus at the very centre of the Temple – in the Holy of Holies. On another of the codices is a detailed depiction of the Holy Place, showing the food bowls as well as fruits aplenty. On yet others the temple balustrade can be seen, and pillars too. The message could not be more explicit. These are the secrets of the Temple, as known to the Nazoreans; and their Messiah is at the very core of it.
Not everybody was comfortable with truths expressed in imagery: Eusebius in his Ecclesiastical History (4th century) is very disapproving of the graven image. This alone is enough to tell us quite how secret these things were. At various times in history sacred imagery has been deemed offensive or impious. The potential power of iconoclasm is enough to tell us quite how secret these things were. Such reverential portrayal of any other figure would have been seen as blasphemy under Jewish Law – particularly if he was a candidate for the Messiahship. Jesus truly was a unifying candidate come to claim the throne of the United Kingdom of Israel, and his claim was seen as good: he was no longer a mere candidate.
All this is the interpretative background, inescapably convincing in our opinion, and that of our collaborators, to the earliest representation of Jesus – in what are therefore some of the earliest Christian documents, if not the earliest Christian documents. No wonder we felt so protective toward the codices.
As I have said, this ‘true image’, or vera icona, may well be the source of the icons: representations of the Veronica are usually set within a distinct sun disc or halo (as are the faces on the icons) – which has sometimes led to their being mistaken for a representation of John the Baptist’s severed head on a dish. This too is redolent of First Temple practice and, of course, speaks of an older and wider usage presaging the foundation of Israel. The face on the cover of the Book of the Face (or Book of Seven Seals) bears all of the messianic hallmarks: the beard, the centre-parted hair, the aquiline nose – all of which are Nazorean/Nazirite features.
Before the 6th century and the Iconoclastic era in Byzantium, the image of Christ was generally a Romanized version of the image of Apollo – unbearded and shaven. However, long after this period (beginning around the 4th century, there was a startling and dramatic change in the representation of Christ), we see Jesus as a proper Hebrew Messiah with all the familiar attributes mentioned above.
In the years before the Council of Nicaea in AD 325, the Roman image of Jesus has a tendency to look Greco-Roman in character. This portrayal is not the Jewish Jesus, but Christ as the risen sun, splendid and in glory. It is not until shortly after Nicaea that the bearded Jesus begins to emerge, in a more realistic, less idealized look: it is Jesus the man, not the apotheosis of Christ. It is almost as if something in the way of an actual portrait has inspired this sudden change to realism, as opposed to the supernatural.
The codices are in fact Apocalypses, in that they portray the ideal of Christ in the Temple environment – and the Temple to 1st-century Jews, as to the Hebrews before them, was Heaven on earth. The Apocalypse, in terms of the book it describes and the vision detailed within it, reveals the inner secrets of the Temple, what is to be seen there in the secret places and the ultimate vision of God and the Holy Ineffable Name: in this case Jesus. We are in the realms of mystical Hebraism. The Great Angel of Salvation, the King/High Priest, was Yeshu’a, who was YHWH incarnate in the form of the King. This would be a definite First Temple survival into the 1st century. As Jesus walked into the Holy of Holies and emerged as High Priest and King, he would have become ‘resurrected’; having survived the encounter with the living presence of God, his face would have shone. In the Greek myths Zeus, the King of the Gods on Olympus, is rarely seen by mortals in his true guise: on the few occasions when he is asked to show himself, the poor enquirer is burnt to a cinder instantaneously. The nature of the Hebrew divinity is imbued with a similar flavour.
Such a radical notion of Jesus would have caused great consternation to the Temple authorities, who would have seen it as a challenge to their grip on the politics of Judea. For what James took with him from Jerusalem after the incident on the steps of the Temple is known to have been the archive of his community. The implication is that Jesus passed the secret teachings that he gleaned from his own experience within the Temple to his brother James and to John and Peter. While certain of those teachings would have remained unwritten, this does not mean to say that they were not symbolized, illustrated or enciphered for those who sought access to them. The problem with any assessment of Christianity at its inception has always been that it has been depoliticized, stripped of its circumstantial meaning; and into the lacuna has stepped theology.
It is known that James, after his appalling encounter with Paul, had headed towards Pella, today a run-down city on the road to the cave site – in an arid wonderland that few had ever seen. This gives us a context for the discovery of the codices. The pursuit of James by Paul in the early texts seems illogical and exaggerated. Damascus was way beyond the jurisdiction of the Temple. The Temple authorities were working in cooperation with Rome. It seems more than a little odd, therefore, that they should go to such extremes. Was James really that important? Was his person so profoundly holy or so profoundly blasphemous that they were willing to incur the significant costs of pursuit? If so, then the episode is unique and puzzling. However, if he was carrying something the pursuers desperately wanted, not to keep perhaps but to destroy, then perhaps the manhunt becomes more intelligible. The central codex would have contained certain of the secrets of the Temple and its Holy of Holies. If James was thought to be carrying it, that would be enough to justify pursuit and persecution: the Temple authorities had to destroy it at all costs.
Jennifer and I looked at each other and burst out with nervous laughter as our plane raced down the runway, heading into take-off. We could not quite believe that we were returning to Israel. Hassan had given us an ultimatum: either do something or he was going to sell. Charles offered to fund the trip and planned to donate the film footage to the Foundation. The footage was to be used for our breaking news story. With us was Karl Weiss, an award-winning documentary film producer who had organized our three-day guerrilla trip to Hassan’s to film the codices.
Just before take-off, Hassan called Karl on his cell phone. He had already gathered the codices together ready for filming. The two of them had been speaking regularly for the past week or so, and Hassan had repeatedly expressed his pleasure that we were coming over there.
As the plane started its descent to Tel Aviv, the tension hit me hard, and I knew Jennifer was feeling it too. Despite the past year of a relatively smooth relationship with Hassan, all the bad memories of our last trip to Israel came flooding back. We had no clear idea of what to expect.
Hassan greeted us like old friends and shook hands with Karl, although when he gave me a friendly embrace I could not help noticing the rigidity in his shoulders. He ushered us to the familiar grouping of café tables. As soon as we had all seated ourselves, he wasted no time in asking the one question we were dreading. ‘So, I hope you have brought back my tablets?’ Any display of camaraderie had gone. The air was fraught with tension.
‘Hassan, we discussed this before we came over, and you agreed that we should keep the tablets for analysis.’ I tried to reason with him. ‘Besides, we all agreed we just couldn’t risk it with the current situation in the Middle East. You must have heard that Gaddafi has just fired shots at the protesters, killing over 200 people and injuring thousands. A domino effect is feared – Tunisia and Egypt having already fallen. People are being searched very thoroughly at the airports.’
‘We had all of our bags carefully searched, they would have found them,’ Karl added.
‘You think I’m stupid?’ he raged, ‘Already you have broken your promise.’ He slammed his hand down on the table. ‘You have to give me 200,000 dollars for my tablets or you cannot film.’ In his fury, he spat out his justification.
‘Hassan, listen, we are not trying to cheat you. We were genuinely worried that the tablets would be confiscated. You have to understand, the situation in the Middle East …’ Karl attempted to pacify him, but he was having none of it.
‘That’s bullshit! I gave you two letters from the IAA. They say I own the artefacts!’
Jennifer corrected him, as tactfully as she could. ‘The last letter you sent states that the Antiquities Authority has no interest in your objects. Objects could mean anything – it could be this bottle …’ She held up the empty plastic water bottle in front of her. As he started to defend himself, she went on to make a further devastating point: ‘OK, well, what about the person who signed the letter? Did you know that his job title is Manager of the Antique Robbery Prevention Unit?’
For a moment he was caught off-guard. He looked at Karl and declared: ‘If you put 200,000 dollars in my account I let you film.’ It was an obvious tactic to change the subject.
Hassan then started to make aggressive remarks. He turned toward Karl, who was visibly shocked. ‘I have friends everywhere. Don’t forget what happened in Jordan.’ He had not mentioned the Jordan factor once since we had started speaking again a year ago. Obviously Hassaan had been harbouring a silent grudge. Was this what was behind this whole charade? Was he afraid? Was the reality of filming and its consequences at large finally starting to hit him? I could understand that, but why the sudden drastic change? He had been fine just hours ago. We had already picked up our bags and had started to slowly back away from him. Karl was shaken. He could not believe we had endured things for as long as we had. As awful as the situation was, we were glad to have had Karl witness what we had been through. There was no way of negotiating, nor did we wish to. Just over 24 hours later we were back home again.
Until St Paul started to expound upon it, the truth of the Resurrection and his vision of the Risen Christ remained the biggest secret of the early Christian movement. It was for this reason, among others, that the Ebionite sect took against Paul in the immediate aftermath of the death of James, brother of Jesus. He was letting Temple secrets out of the bag, but in a way that denied the authenticity of the Law: faith, not good works only, was the view of Paul, in direct contrast to the Ebionites. (In a sense the Ebionites are likely to have viewed this as a case of Paul placing himself at the centre of the revelation, particularly in terms of how he described his vision. Thus, belief in Paul led, by extension, to faith in Christ.) It was at this point that much began to change. In the years after the two Great Revolts against the might of Rome, when Judea was utterly destroyed and the Jerusalem Church too was decimated, the doctrines of Paul won out – whereas before the revolts it seemed as if he was very much on the losing side.
All that we might have known about the Hebrew-Christians was lost at this point: whatever was left over from the First Great Revolt was destroyed in the Second in AD 132–5.
Christianity was the heir to the Temple faith, and the codices are explicit on this point. Some scholars have pointed out how close the codices seem to later Kabbalistic texts, and indeed there are many similarities between the two movements in their use of Temple symbols and script. From the limited analysis thus far, the two seem to have a lot in common. But equally there are differences that point to their separation. Nowhere in Kabbalism is the Face of the Lord to be seen.
Analysis of the surviving texts has revealed a great deal but left many questions unanswered. For example, in the Greek version of the Gospel of Luke, the Codex Bezae, reference is made of Jesus going to Oulammaus and breaking bread there after the Resurrection. Oulammaus is the ancient Bethel, the House of God. Why did Jesus go there? (Genesis 28; LXX; 1 Corinthians). The suspicion is that it was at Bethel, modern-day Beitin, that the first Hebrew Temple was erected in deep antiquity. Jesus went there because his new Church was a restoration movement, and in order to restore he had to affirm the truths and practices of antiquity: he was making a direct appeal to all of the tribes of Israel not just that of Judah. Bethel is famous as the site of Jacob’s dream of the stairway to Heaven. Jesus was making a highly symbolic gesture. He is underscoring the belief that the Jerusalem Temple is illegitimate; he is harking back to the days of purity, the earliest days of testimony. Bethel is a Samaritan site, and although recent excavations have yet to reveal anything of relevance there, it must surely be only a matter of time before something is found. The Samaritans, the remnant of the 12 tribes of Israel, were the first to recognize Jesus as the Messiah, but this is one of many facts that have become obscured in the power plays of history: much evidence has suffered in the cause of Mother Church.
It comes as a surprise to many people that Kings Solomon and David were Sons of God too. They were Messiahs; they too were semidivine. But this is another fact that has been obscured, in the race to see Jesus as unique in his status of Messiah. Unique he surely was, in a broader sense. Though a King, he was humble, loyal to the prophetic role expected of the true Messiah. In this he was courageous, in that he tried to restore, against the odds, a movement that had in his eyes – and in those of many others – become illogical and corrupt. Jesus was the Suffering Servant so beloved of Isaiah.
However, there is another point to make here. In his first letter to the Corinthians (1 Corinthians 15.4) Paul writes of Jesus that he came to fulfil the prophecies ‘in accordance with the Scriptures’. Given that Paul’s letters are older than the Gospels and are accorded the status of the oldest documents in the New Testament, what ‘Scriptures’ can he be talking about? We might naturally assume that they must be the Isaiah texts and other texts of the Prophets, but is this really the case? There might well have been Scriptures, which in the coming centuries were altered or rewritten.
The Old Testament with which the modern reader is familiar has come down to us via St Jerome, who used the adjusted Hebrew texts. However, these are not the texts that Jesus and the Christians would have been familiar with, for the Scriptures given to Jerome had been entirely rewritten and edited, to expunge the mention of Jesus, the early Christian movement and certain of the Temple mysteries. A massive loss is that of the original Temple mysteries – until now. The codices offer us more than a glimpse into this highly secretive, controversial world. They give us a deeper understanding of Christian origins. Perhaps a long-lost chance has fallen into our laps?
The Jewish canon (Masoretic Text or MT) was formulated at Jabneh in AD 70–132. However, the earliest surviving scripts that are at present known to exist date back no further than AD 1000. The Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible, the Septuagint (LXX), by contrast, dates back to the 3rd century BC. Many versions of this translation contain longer passages than those to be seen in the later Masoretic texts and a comparative analysis of the telling differences between the two reveals that much was indeed removed. The discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls in the late 1940s has only served to provide more evidence for this view. The connections and links between the Old and New Testaments have yet to be fully explained by scholars, and this is partly because of the early Church Fathers who tried to either alter or eliminate the Old Testament. The influence that they have cast over Biblical studies is dark and substantial. A direct result of this influence is the vogue in the last 30 years or so to see Christianity as a Hellenistic-inspired cult that had little or nothing to do with the fundamental tenets of Hebraism. Classicists like to see Christianity as a Helios/Sun-god-inspired, Greco-centric sect which emerged as a result of Hellenistic influence upon Palestine. This could not be further from the truth. Churches in the early period chose to retain the Old Testament for a specific reason, and that reason was that they wished to retain the traditions that went back way beyond the Babylonian exile, to the days of Solomon’s Temple and its theology, all of it based around the ancient royal cult of the semi-divine King.
Strangely enough, confirmation of this account comes from the fact that, as the Jews made new translations of their Scriptures in the 2nd century, the Christians continued to use Greek translations of the Old Testament. Both sides accused each other of alterations. This demonstrates that the Old Testament was indeed important to early Christianity – particularly in way that Jesus, according to Christians, was the fulfilment of the prophecies contained within the old Scriptures. The Jews altered their texts for many reasons: the destruction wrought on Judea by the Romans was one reason, since they needed to protect themselves. The death of James was said to have provoked the Fall of Jerusalem. To many early Hebrew-Christians the Temple authorities were to blame for his death; however, for their part the Jewish authorities blamed James and the early Church for the messianic fervour that led to the Fall of the Temple. It was a painful memory. Within the early Church, as we have seen, James had a significant support base and these early persecutions of his movement, by the Temple authorities, left their mark: the Christians became sundered from the Jews.
The priesthood at Qumran saw itself as a Royal priesthood, concerned with the ‘Preparation of The Way’, a phrase that appears often in the New Testament. The emphasis was on restoring purity through ritual in the worship of God. The point here is that the community at Qumran and Essene communities elsewhere were very much aware of one special event that was related to the theology of the end-times. This event was the Great Jubilee of Jubilees.
The Jubilee came every 49–50 years – and the Great Jubilee only after 10 times that number: 490–500 years. Such a Jubilee would bring the Day of Judgement, and it is described vividly in the Dead Sea text 11QMelch. This states how Melchizedek would take his place in the heavenly assembly. Dr Margaret Barker has discovered that ‘This was to be the year of Melchizedek’s favour, a very significant alteration to Isaiah 61.2, which proclaims the Jubilee as the year of the Lord’s favour […] The only possible conclusion is that Melchizedek, the heavenly high priest, was the Lord, the God of Israel [my italics].’ Jesus’s ministry begins at precisely the hour the Great Jubilee begins. Jesus is Melchizedek, who brings divine judgement – but he also brings renewal, the renewal of God’s Covenant with humanity, which must be renewed on the Day of Atonement in the year of the Great Jubilee. Hebrews 10.12 tells us: ‘When Christ offered for all time a single sacrifice for all sins, he sat down at the right hand of God.’
The six seals described in the Revelation were ‘prophecies of events during the Jubilee and, as each event happened, so a seal was believed to have been opened’. Each of the events described in Revelation actually occurred. The Fifth Seal was the martyrdom of James the Just and the Sixth was Nero’s persecution. The opening of the Seventh Seal was to be the return of the heavenly High Priest to complete the great Atonement at the end of the tenth Jubilee – which was, at that time, imminent.
The prophecy of the Seven Seals contained in Revelation 5–8 must have had a sizeable impact on the mood and attitude of the people. Times were hard and Palestine, during the years of the Tenth Jubilee (AD c16–66), was in turmoil owing to famine, war and Roman mismanagement. As each of these events happened, a prophecy was held to have been fulfilled; and so the prospect of the opening of the Seventh Seal created a high pitch of expectation – a state of affairs that must have horrified the Temple authorities.
Jesus called for a new self-understanding in the face of the Kingdom of God. He was earnest in his desire for the population to share in his thinking of the last days and the coming of the will of God. In order for the people to be ready for the ultimate sacrifice and the appearance of the Holy One, their thoughts had to be drawn towards the Temple, so that the focus of the ultimate rite was complete. As Otto Betz and Rainer Reisner put it, ‘The royal priesthood of the Qumran community was to achieve what the sacrificial cult in Jerusalem was meant to achieve but could not because of its impure priesthood; it was to expiate for the polluted land and in this way protect it from the divine judgment.’5
The renewal of the Covenant was all about the cleansing of the Temple, and the purifying of the land – and ultimately of the people. During the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus went up the mountain in an echo of Moses on Mount Sinai. But he went further than Moses, the first redeemer. Here, Jesus spoke to the people camped before him on the mountain and proclaimed the God who rescues from slavery (Matthew 5.3–12). This is another element of the lost secret teaching: it appears that Jesus is actually making a statement not about Moses but about the Deuteronomist and his rewriting of Scripture long before the 1st century. Here Jesus is seen to be releasing the people from the ‘Thou Shalt Not’ mentality, the state-centred priesthood of the Temple that was now being exposed as corrupt and collaborative. Jesus, by contrast, exhibits a great concern for the individual sinner, which would only have added to the allure of this man of ‘amazing learning’.
The Seventh Seal would bring the return of the Great High Priest, the Melchizedek figure, to complete the greatest of all Atonements. Fervour was high on all sides but particularly among those who were followers of Christ.
Now, when a good man dies, seemingly for the wrong reasons, those who admire or even revere him, are likely to get angry. Thus, some of the first Christians may well have become Zealots. It is possible that certain of the disciples may well have been connected with the nationalist movement that eventually led the outbreak of the Revolt.
Josephus deplored the actions of these ‘pretended messengers of the deity who led the wretched people astray’ with their belief that the Lord would return to His city.6 It was hardly the fault of the first Christians if these prophecies were misunderstood in later times – hard times that many wanted to come to an end. It was during this period that the term ‘apocalypse’ became synonymous with doom rather than revelation. Jesus spoke of what he had seen in Heaven. The vision was now spilling into the wider world as a reflection of something more insidious: the use of prophecy to provoke the masses.
In the aftermath of these troubles the Christians and the Jews went their separate ways for good – and so too did their texts. The Gospels became more Roman in their message: anything to do with the Temple was expunged, since the memory was still too fresh. The religion of Judaism now underwent a period of fundamental reform, by which aspects of earlier Temple culture and the monarchy were removed or reinterpreted. It was during this period that the concept of the Suffering Servant became re-cast in the mould of not one specific individual but of an entire people – the long-suffering Jews. The Nazarenes were fiercely opposed to the new rabbinic movement.
It is interesting to observe that with the appearance of Jesus, the Essene movement seems to disappear. It is Church Father Epiphanius (AD 315–403) who remarked that the first Christians were in fact Essenes.
Looking back on this fascinating and complex period of history, we have to re-evaluate much that previously has been seen as ‘gospel truth’. The irony of this is that the Gospels themselves have undergone so much rewriting and so much editing and translation that it is sometimes difficult to get a sense of what they are really saying. Scholars are now questioning the original role of those who were, early on, labelled ‘heretics’ – that is, various of the Gnostic groups. These sects claimed to be the inheritors of a secret inner knowledge. It seems that for too long now this inner knowing has been misconstrued as knowledge of the self and beyond: but what if they did ‘know’ (Greek, gnosis) in a more outward, objective sense? What if they were inheritors of the ancient traditions too, whether directly from the Temple or from Jesus himself? A significant part of their many writings displays a remarkable knowledge of the inner workings of the Temple and its surrounding theology. We must not forget that more than one movement sprang out of the destruction of the Temple; for without a central authority to guide these believers and to rein in some of their later theological excesses, it was inevitable that they should at some point diverge from their original inspiration.
Things had been quiet for two weeks since our speedy return from Israel. Jennifer and I were busy working on a press release and planning a media strategy with the cooperation and backing of Jordan, with input from Margaret, Philip and Charles. Through Margaret we were put in touch with Robert Pigott, the Religious Affairs Correspondent for BBC. He was bowled over by what we had to show and tell him, and very eager to help us put our story together and announce it on the Today show on BBC Radio 4 – the ultimate slot.
Our new-found tranquillity was soon interrupted. The phone rang, disturbing an otherwise delightful early spring afternoon. It was Hassan in one of his manic phases. I was not in a mood to speak to him, but as always, thought that perhaps I should listen to what he had to say, as he tended to reveal useful information.
‘We’ve got a surprise for you!’ He taunted me gleefully, then rambled on incoherently. I put him on speakerphone and we listened for about 20 seconds before hanging up. We could not make out most of what he was saying, except for the clearly discernible words, ‘Jewish Chronicle’. Over the weekend Jennifer looked up the Jewish Chronicle online and came across the feature: Heavy metal secrets from a Mid-East cave; Israel’s archaeological establishment believes they are a fake. But could a collection of metal books be an early example of Kabbalah? A photograph showed Allen, posing in front of the mouth of a cave – in Jordan.
‘Hello?’ I responded eagerly, putting the caller on speakerphone. It was the call we had been waiting for. ‘P’s’ office had responded with urgency to our latest report. They had fully agreed with our strategy to make a news announcement and informed us that we were to expect a call from Dr Ziad al-Saad, the Director-General of the Department of Antiquities of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan in Amman. Although the line was not the best, we were just about able to hear him.
‘Hello, this is Ziad al-Saad from the Department of Antiquities. I would like to offer my congratulations. I have read your report and I must tell you, it is excellent! We also want to give you our thanks for all of the things you are doing for Jordan and to say that we are completely amazed at the wonderful thing you have given us.’
Jennifer and I were speechless at first but were able, after a few seconds, to thank our caller for his kind words.
‘We are very much looking forward to working together with you for a happy conclusion,’ he continued. ‘We must get started working on the repatriation as soon as possible. However, we will need to do some investigations first and, of course, further testing – and of course you must come to Jordan. Let us be in close touch via email. Oh, and I’ve read your press release – it is very good and I am happy to authorize it for release. I wish you luck.’
A few days later, Jennifer went online and sent the announcement to everyone on our already-prepared media list. By 6am the BBC’s Today programme had already posted their announcement on their website and by 8.30am our interview with Robert Pigott had been aired. Our banner was flying freely across the world. The fate of the codices was now in the realm of the Jordanians, where it belonged.
Although we had fulfilled our mission, our work was not over yet. Robert Pigott called us later that day requesting that we show up at the BBC the next day for interviews on BBC News 24, the 10 o’clock news, and various radio programmes.
Meanwhile, Allen was having a meltdown. Jennifer and I, as well as Philip, Margaret and our agent, received a copy of an email he sent out to the Press Association, all the major international broadsheets and Rex Features, our photographic agency, stating that we had no right to associate ourselves with the discovery. He signed his own name as Hassan’s press agent. The main points were that a) all information on the discovery of the lead codices is the subject of confidentiality agreements covering publication and exploitation in any media; b) the material is owned by Mr Hassan Saeda, who has exclusive rights in all publicity and display or exploitation through his agent Allen Ferkel. Legal action was threatened for anyone in unauthorized breach of these entitlements. Unsurprisingly, he had chosen to ignore the overruling issue: that the discovery was the legal property of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan.
We were on our way to the BBC headquarters at White City, West London, when Jennifer answered the phone. It was Robert Pigott. He sounded strained and tense.
‘Jennifer, we have a problem. A certain young man has just left reception where he commanded that I come down and see him. He demanded that we remove the web article on the Today show site.’ Fortunately, the matter was resolved in our favour. The opposition had beleaguered us until the very end. But it was now out – no one could stop it.
Jennifer and I were then whisked away for BBC News 24 and the 1 o’clock news. Robert pulled back a dark heavy curtain and introduced us to the producer. Much to our surprise we found ourselves in a dark studio facing a familiar lit-up red and white counter and backdrop. The newsreaders were off-air for a 10-minute break. We recognized them immediately: Louise Minchin and Chris Rogers. Jennifer unwrapped the little package containing the tablets and handed them over. Before we knew it, the red light flashed. We were on air.
We were exhausted when we finally left BBC White City and headed toward the tube station to meet Charles for dinner. He was eager to hear how our day went. We told him about our various broadcasts and ended with the visitation of Horace.
‘He obviously still has an axe to grind,’ Charles said. ‘You don’t think he could have been behind the reluctance of the JMI to pursue further involvement with the codices?’
‘That’s exactly what we’ve thought for a long time,’ Jennifer replied. ‘We’re pretty sure he’s been in touch with Jordanian officials, declaring the codices to be forgeries and not to take David seriously.’
We had done what we had set out to do. Now we could only sit back and hope that our strategy would have the desired effect, that the Jordanians would be pleased and that we could now begin the process of repatriation.
On 5 April 2011, Dr al-Saad delivered the strength of his conviction in an article in The Jordan Times stating that the codices may represent ‘the greatest discovery on the eastern banks of the River Jordan’ and ‘have been billed by Jordanian experts as more historic than the Dead Sea Scrolls’. Dr al-Saad affirmed that ‘we have every indication that these texts were excavated from Jordan illegally in recent years and smuggled across the border’. He confirmed that ‘authorities are working at every diplomatic and legal level in order to return the books from across the river and into Jordan. These manuscripts are a part of Jordan’s heritage and global heritage, and we hope to share it soon with the rest of the world.’ The article ended with a promise that Jordanian authorities would work to house the codices in a museum on the eastern bank of the River Jordan near the site where its authors sought refuge some two millennia ago. We were absolutely thrilled by Jordan’s support and could not have hoped for a better outcome.
Over the course of the next week we were amazed by the response. Although we always believed the discovery to be of huge importance, it was hard to gauge how the rest of the world would perceive it. We were inundated by calls from journalists from around the world. Thanks to Robert Pigott’s superb journalism, the standard of worldwide press was impressive and, to our surprise, wholly supportive. Although a huge burden had been lifted from our shoulders, the journey was not over yet. We had been quietly invited to Jordan by the Department of Antiquities to debrief them on all that had happened to us surrounding the codices as well as to escort their team of archaeologists to the site to survey it. It was the beginning of yet another chapter.