The Mystery of the Bermuda Triangle Solved?

Stories of strange happenings and mysterious disappearances in the Bermuda Triangle have entertained the superstitious for many decades. Everything from disappearing airplanes and boats to reports of deadly whirlpools and malfunctioning mechanical equipment have helped to perpetuate the idea that something “otherworldly” has made its home in the western Atlantic Ocean. But recent scientific investigations may have finally cleared up these so-called “mysteries” once and for all.

The Bermuda Triangle is not really a triangle at all, but simply an angular area of the Atlantic Ocean running roughly from Bermuda southwest to Florida and southeast to Puerto Rico. Even the name is a misnomer: most of the reported incidents have occurred near the Bahamas, not Bermuda.

While the earliest reports of strange occurrences in the area may go back as far as Columbus (he reported strange lights and unusual compass readings in the area), the event that really ignited stories of the Bermuda Triangle occurred in the 1940’s with the now famous Flight 19.

Flight 19 took off from a U.S. Navy training base in Fort Lauderdale at roughly 2:10 on the afternoon of December 5, 1945, heading out for a routine training run. The weather was reported to be clear and sunny – a perfect day for flying. The flight consisted of five TBM Avengers – 3-man torpedo bombers used widely in World War II.


TBM Avengers like the ones flown by Flight 19

The flight was led by a veteran pilot named Charles Taylor, who had over 2500 flying hours under his belt. The training flight was a navigational one, teaching new pilots how to get their bearings in the air and how to navigate through a set pattern. The pilots were set to fly about a hundred miles due east, into the Atlantic Ocean, make a practice bombing run, turn north and pass directly over Grand Bahama Island, and then turn southwest and return to Fort Lauderdale.


A map showing a rough diagram of Flight 19's flight plan

The training run started off normal. Ground operations in Fort Lauderdale were able to monitor radio conversations between the planes, and it is known that Flight 19 completed its practice bombing run at about 3 pm, or roughly an hour after take-off.

At about 3:40 in the afternoon, another training squadron flying in the same area received a transmission from Flight 19. Among other things, Flight 19 reported that they were lost, their compasses were acting up, and they believed they were over the Florida Keys. Lt. Taylor, the leader of Flight 19, commented that he believed they had gotten lost after making their turn toward Grand Bahama Island. He asked for help in navigating back to Fort Lauderdale.

Anyone familiar with the geography of this area of the ocean will see an immediate problem – the Florida Keys are nowhere near Grand Bahama Island and were not within the navigating pattern of Flight 19. In fact, since it is known that their bombing run ended successfully at roughly 3 pm, even with a dramatic mistake in navigating (which would have required a turn in the exact opposite direction), the Avengers could not possibly have already been over the Florida Keys by 3:40.

For roughly the next two hours, ground control in Fort Lauderdale listened to the various radio transmissions being received from Flight 19, and attempted to bring Taylor and his flight back in safely. However, most of their transmissions to Taylor were not acknowledged. With the exception of a few exchanges, it appeared that ground control could hear what the Avenger pilots were saying to one another, but the pilots could not hear what ground control was saying to them. Ground control attempted to triangulate the squadron’s position using transponders, but they were not initially successful in this endeavor, and requests to Taylor to change his frequency went unacknowledged.

Several radio transmissions between the Avengers indicated that Taylor was hopelessly lost. At one point, he discussed the possibility that the flight was already west of Florida, out in the Gulf of Mexico, meaning that to head north would simply take them farther from land, and to head west would take them toward Texas. After apparently flying slightly northeast for some time, Taylor instructed his flight to turn due east, convinced now that the squadron was indeed already west of Florida, and therefore needed to fly eastward to get back to land. At this point, several of the students under Taylor’s command argued with him, suggesting that there was no way they were in the Gulf of Mexico (the Gulf was, after all, hundreds of miles from their original flight pattern), and insisting instead that they must be over the Atlantic. As such, they tried to encourage Taylor to turn west, believing this would take them straight to the Florida coast and Fort Lauderdale. Taylor, however, was convinced that the flight was in the Gulf of Mexico, and apparently because of military discipline, his students stuck with him as he continued to search for land.

As the afternoon melted into evening, the weather began to worsen and storms began to roll in. Transmissions from the lost flight grew more indistinct. By 5:30, Taylor had apparently been won over by his students, and he was heard to transmit a heading of due west, suggesting that they would fly west until they either spotted land, or ran out of fuel. Some thirty minutes later, several land-based stations were finally able to triangulate Flight 19’s position, and it showed them to be roughly 150 miles north of Grand Bahama Island, about 100 miles off the coast of Cape Canaveral.

The weather continued to worsen as sunset neared, and at about 6:05 pm, Taylor was heard to say that he thought the flight should turn back eastward again. About 15 minutes later, Taylor told his students to fly close together, and if they ran out of fuel, they would all go in together. This was the last transmission received from Flight 19. At about the same time, a ship in the area radioed to say that they were in heavy winds and high seas, meaning the Avengers would be going down in bad weather.

Search and rescue craft were sent out almost immediately to search for the airplanes, but no wreckage and no survivors were ever found – not even an oil slick. Furthermore, adding yet another creepy aspect to the story, a 13-man PBY Catalina, which was part of the search and rescue team, went down at about 8 pm, following a midair explosion that was seen by a nearby ship. All 13 men on board were killed, and the explosion has never been explained.

Investigations into the loss of Flight 19 concluded that Taylor got confused in the air and believed that he was over the Gulf of Mexico, when in fact he was exactly where he should have been – over the Bahamas. The report suggested that Taylor mistook the small islands of the Bahamas for the small islands of the Florida Keys. By taking his flight north and east (which he thought was taking him back toward Florida from the Gulf of Mexico), he was actually taking his flight out into the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean. By the time he gave in to his students’ suggestions and turned west, he was already too far out to make it back to land before running out of fuel.

It was not until the early 1960’s that discussions of the “mystery” of Flight 19 began to seep into the public consciousness. However, within 2 years of the first appearance of a major story about Flight 19, writers were already connecting various “strange” stories together, and referring to the area in question as “the deadly Bermuda Triangle.”

In regards to Flight 19, skeptics of the investigational findings noted that Taylor was an excellent and experienced pilot, and he could not possibly have mistaken the Bahamas for the Florida Keys, or the Atlantic Ocean for the Gulf of Mexico. Furthermore, they pointed to the reports of compasses going out, the general confused and panicky sounds of the pilots’ voices, and several unusual statements made in the various radio transmissions. Among these statements was a comment by Taylor that he couldn’t “be sure of any direction,” and that “everything looks strange, even the ocean.”

The mystery of Flight 19’s disappearance was deepened in the early 1990’s when the wreckage of five TBM Avengers was found on the ocean floor just a few miles off the coast of Fort Lauderdale. Scattered throughout a small region of about 1 mile, these five aircraft were identical to the type used by Flight 19. As no wreckage had ever been found, it was immediately assumed that these planes, so close together on the ocean floor, must be the planes of Flight 19. The mystery, however, was in their closeness to the coast. How could Flight 19 have gone down just a few miles from the coast – with land in site – and yet none of the wreckage or crewmen were ever seen by the many boats and planes scouring the area for survivors? Furthermore, why did the triangulation figures suggest the flight was 100 miles out into the ocean, and 150 miles north, if in fact they were just a few miles from Fort Lauderdale when they went down? Finally, why were radio transmissions fading out near the end, if in fact the planes were nearing the naval base?

A crew of oceanographers and historians decided to find out. Using cutting edge submersible technology, and even bringing along a pilot who had personally flown TBM Avengers out of Fort Lauderdale during the 1940’s, the crew inspected the aircraft and determined conclusively that they were, in fact, not from Flight 19. This was confirmed by the simple reading of serial numbers. However, in confirming that these five Avengers were not from Flight 19, the team uncovered what was potentially an even greater mystery – all five aircraft had gone down in the same area (within 1 mile of each other), on different days, at different times, and under different circumstances. It was not simply another lost flight of five planes, but five separate plane crashes, all in practically the same spot. One of the scientists noted that such a thing would be akin to hitting a hole in one, being struck by lightning, and holding a winning lottery ticket in your pocket – all at the same time. While this may be a bit of overstated hyperbole, the point is clear: in the wide expanse of ocean over which Avengers from Fort Lauderdale flew during the 1940’s, to have five different aircraft go down within a 1-mile radius of one another, on different days and under different conditions, is extremely unlikely.

These researchers, however, came up with a plausible and testable theory, one that not only clears up the mystery of Flight 19, but may well also explain the other phenomena that occur in the area of the Bermuda Triangle.

First, it is clear that Lt. Taylor of Flight 19 got lost. Why this happened is anybody’s guess, but it is a known fact (and was even included in the original investigation) that Taylor was known for “flying by the seat of his pants,” and had twice, during the war, had to ditch planes in the ocean because of becoming lost and running out of fuel. Either way, the researchers believed Taylor reported that things looked strange, and that he thought he was above the Florida keys, because he had made a bad turn, possibly resulting from a malfunctioning compass.

His initial target had been a spot some 20 or 30 miles due south of Grand Bahama Island. At that spot, he was supposed to turn north and fly across this east-west lying island. However, the researchers suggested that he actually turned somewhat northeast, missed Grand Bahama Island, and came upon Abaco Island instead.


Grand Bahama Island and Abaco Island are in the upper part of this map

This island lies north-south off the southeastern coast of Grand Bahama Island. Since he believed he had turned north toward Grand Bahama Island, he became disoriented (thus everything looked “strange”) when he reached the north-south lying Abaco Island. He had expected to see a large island running perpendicular before him; instead he found a large island running parallel with him beyond his right wing.

Confusion would have begun immediately. One can almost imagine the internal dialogue he might have had with himself. “Grand Bahama should be in front of me, to the north. Yet it’s lying there off my right wing, to the east. If that’s Grand Bahama, then I’m not heading north as my compass is telling me – I’m actually heading west. If I turn and head across Grand Bahama like I’m supposed to, I’ll be heading north, but my compass will say east. Or maybe that’s not Grand Bahama at all. Maybe I’m somewhere else completely.”

It is little wonder that Taylor very quickly got disoriented and reported that he could not “be sure of any direction.”

When he began to cross over a string of atolls surrounding Abaco Island, he came to believe that he was above the Florida Keys – which have a similar appearance from the air. At this point, he turned north, believing Florida to be in that direction. As he entered the expanse of the Atlantic Ocean north of the Bahamas, he became convinced that he was in the Gulf of Mexico and so turned east – thinking this would get him back to Florida. In reality, it was simply taken him farther out to sea.

Secondly, Taylor’s confused and panicky demeanor is easily explained by the psychological phenomenon that we might call “tunnel thinking.” When in the air, and away from normal ground perspective, it is easy – even for seasoned pilots – to lose their bearings. This is especially true above a hypnotizing expanse of water. When this happens, adrenalin begins to pump, and the brain becomes very focused – this is an evolutionary design to help out during periods of high stress. However, when it happens inside the cockpit of an airplane, it can cause a pilot to make poor decisions, and not consider more reasonable courses of action. The pilot can become convinced of a particular idea (in this case, Taylor’s belief that he was over the Gulf of Mexico), and no amount of reasoning can sway him from his belief.

When being attacked by a lion, this sort of thing can be helpful; but it can be deadly inside an airplane.

Finally, the initial cause of the problem – a malfunctioning compass – may well be explained by the existence of methane gas in the atmosphere.

Methane is a naturally-occurring gas that is vented up from the bottom of the ocean. When holes exist in the ocean floor to release methane gas, it generally bubbles up without much of an effect on the atmosphere or the surface of the water. However, if those vents become clogged with debris, or if methane begins to build in an area where no natural vents exist, it can create enormous pressure beneath the ocean floor. When the floor finally gives way, an enormous bubble of methane is released toward the surface, where it explodes with tremendous force. Methane bubbles are known to be powerful enough to create enormous tidal waves on the ocean’s surface. Such a large concentration of methane, being released all at once into the air, can alter the natural chemical composition of the air. If an aircraft happens to fly through such a gas bubble after it has risen from the ocean, the change in air pressure can wreak havoc on the aircraft. Studies conducted by the scientists in question indicated that if a high enough concentration of methane exists, it can actually cause a loss of air pressure over the wings of the aircraft, thereby causing it to stall and crash. However, even low concentrations of methane in the air – as low as 2% – can cause engines to go out, and dashboard instruments to give false readings.

This, then, may be the explanation for the initial problem experienced by Flight 19, and reported as a problem with the compass and other dashboard instruments. Taylor may have flown through one of these methane gas bubbles, experienced false compass readings, subsequently made a bad turn, and then became disoriented when he did not end up where he had expected.

In addition to providing a logical explanation for the problems experienced by Flight 19, the methane gas theory also solves a lot of other “mysterious” occurrences in the Bermuda Triangle. As mentioned above, even low concentrations of methane gas can cause engines to go out and instruments to fail. Many of the Bermuda Triangle stories include mysteriously failing instruments and aircraft engines that suddenly quit. In fact, dead engines were the primary reasons behind the crashes of the five separate Avengers that were discovered off the coast of Florida in the early 90’s. It is possible that this particular area has a high concentration of methane in the air due to gas released from the ocean floor, and with hundreds of Navy planes flying low through the area during the 1940’s, it may be little wonder that several of them crashed at various times in roughly the same spot.

Furthermore, the release of enormous methane gas bubbles can greatly disturb the surface of the ocean as well. Experiments conducted by the Australian Navy have shown that large upsurges in the ocean are powerful enough to sink a full sized battleship in a matter of minutes. If one of these enormous methane releases happened to occur right beneath a passing ship, it could easily break the ship up and sink it, and do it so quickly that it would never have time to even radio a mayday. Moreover, it would not necessarily take an enormous methane bubble with colossal force to sink a ship. Methane is less dense than water, so when it bubbles up to the surface, if the bubbling is spread out over a wide enough area, it can impact the surface density of the water. If a boat – particularly a small boat – is passing through such an area, it could suddenly lose buoyancy and sink without warning. Many of the inexplicable phenomena in the Bermuda Triangle include reports of bubbling oceans, whirlpools, “holes” in the ocean, and sudden tidal waves on calm seas. Methane gas eruptions can explain all of these things.

In the end, I believe that these scientists and historians – whose report I watched on the History Channel – have given an extremely well-researched, well-demonstrated, and plausible explanation for many of the mysteries of the Bermuda Triangle. For a very long time, the unusual phenomena in this area were not understood, and thus they were chalked up by many to supernatural or otherworldly interference. This, I believe, is human nature – when we cannot explain something, we assume it must be supernatural. However, it appears – for the time being at least – that the mystery of the Bermuda Triangle has been reasonably put to bed.

Parity in Baseball: Which League Has Better Balance?

Parity: par–i–ty; noun; equality, as in amount, status, or character.

There are many ways to evaluate the National League versus the American League in Major League Baseball. One can look to individual and/or team statistics, league nuances and styles of play, World Series victories, All-Star game victories, interleague victories, and so on. In terms of specifically evaluating balance among teams in each league, one can look toward statistics, payrolls, and team prominence. It is this last portion – team prominence – that I believe makes a strong argument toward parity, and I believe a good way to evaluate prominence is by looking at post-season appearances. When one evaluates playoff teams over the last decade or so, one discovers that the American League has a tendency to send the same handful of teams to the playoffs each year, whereas the National League has a wider variation of representation in the playoffs. This, I believe, indicates a better general parity – and therefore level of competition – in the National League as opposed to the American League.

Everyone who follows baseball knows of the prominence of the Yankees and Red Sox. Together, these two American League teams (which are both not only in the AL, but also in the same division within the AL) have had 20 post-season appearances in the last 13 seasons (since Major League Baseball went to an 8-team playoff format). Additionally, they have had 11 AL championship appearances, and 8 World Series appearances. That means that the American League pennant has been won 8 out of the last 13 years by either the Yankees or the Red Sox. Add in the Indians, and 10 of the last 13 pennants have been won by only 3 American League teams.

By way of comparison, the two most playoff-bound teams in the National League – the Braves and Cardinals – have had only 18 playoff appearances between them in the last 13 seasons. And while these two teams have had more NL championship appearances between them (12) than the Red Sox and Yankees, they have only 5 World Series appearances combined. To reach 10 pennants (equal with the AL’s Yankees, Red Sox, and Indians), one would have to add together the totals of no less than 6 separate NL teams – twice as many as the AL.

But do parity arguments end with merely the most prominent AL and NL teams?

Not in the least. Consider the following:

In the last 13 seasons, there have been a total of 52 American League playoff berths (4 each year). A total of 11 AL teams (71%) have made it to the playoffs at least once during that stretch. However, nearly 60% of the berths have been filled by just 3 teams. Add appearances by a few additional teams, and only 7 AL teams (exactly half of the total league) have accounted for 85% of playoff appearances in the last 13 years. The Yankees, of course, have been in the playoffs every year during that stretch, accounting for fully one-quarter of all AL playoff appearances.

The NL, on the other hand, has had a total of 13 different teams (81%) in the playoffs over the last 13 seasons. Additionally, the NL’s top three teams have totaled only 46% of all playoff berths (compared to the 60% of the AL’s top three teams). If we add in appearances by a few more NL teams, 7 teams have accounted for only 77% of NL playoff appearances in the last 13 seasons (compared to 85% in for the AL’s top 7). The Braves have appeared 11 times, for a total of 21% of all playoff berths (but none in the last two seasons, and they are under .500 this year).

Appearances in the championship series’ have been slightly closer in parity, with 6 AL teams making up 85% of all ALCS appearances, and 6 NL teams making up 81% of all NLCS appearances. In the AL, the Yankees and Red Sox (and also the Yankees and Indians) have accounted for 11 total appearances (42%), while the Braves and Cardinals have combined for 12 total appearances, or 46%.

In regards to World Series appearances, only 6 American League teams (43%) have made it to the World Series in the last 13 seasons, whereas 9 National League teams (56%) have made it. Only 3 AL teams account for 77% of American League World Series appearances, and nearly half are by the Yankees alone. In the NL, the top 3 teams account for only 54% of NL World Series appearances, and every other NL World Series team has appeared only once. The top NL World Series team – the Braves – has appeared only 3 times, and not at all since 1999.

Finally, and perhaps most significantly in a discussion of baseball parity, there are a number of trends evident when looking at the teams who have appeared in the playoffs in the last 13 seasons. From 1995 to 1999, there were only 6 different AL teams represented in the playoffs, accounting for a total of 20 playoff berths. During the same span, the NL fielded twice as many – 12 different teams. From 2002 to 2005, again the AL only fielded 6 total teams, while the NL fielded 9. From 2002 to 2007, the AL fielded only 8 different teams, while the NL fielded 13 – more than 80% of the total National League.

In 1998 and 1999, the AL fielded the exact same 4 teams in consecutive years. The National League has never done that during this 13-year span. The AL has fielded 3 or more of the same 4 teams in consecutive years 6 different times; by comparison, the NL has done the same thing only twice. Furthermore, the AL has never fielded 4 different teams in consecutive years. The NL accomplished this in 2006 and 2007. Finally, the AL has given us identical championship series’ in consecutive years two different times – Yankees-Mariners in 2000 and 2001, and Yankees-Red Sox in 2003 and 2004 (the Yankees and Red Sox also met in 1999). The NL, however, has done this only once, with the Cardinals and Astros in 2004 and 2005.

All in all, I believe it is clear that an evaluation of playoff appearances indicates a much better parity and competitive balance in the National League than in the American League. Having shown this, I would also suggest that better competitive balance means better competition and better game-by-game enjoyment by the casual fan. For this reason, I prefer to watch the National League, and generally feel the urge to change the channel when yet another Yankees-Red Sox match-up is being shown nationally.

The Life, Death, and Modern Discovery of Pharaoh Tutankhamun, Part IV

INTRODUCTION

Tutankhamun died while still a teenager, was buried with all the regal pomp befitting a king of ancient Egypt, and was later written out of history by subsequent kings because of his association with Akhenaten, the heretic pharaoh who had preceded him. The Orwellian efforts of these kings, combined with Tutankhamun’s short and relatively insignificant reign, succeeded in removing knowledge of Tut’s existence from the population-at-large during later eras of ancient Egypt. Within two hundred years, the location of his tomb was no longer remembered, and another king built his own tomb right over the top of Tut’s, burying any possible sign of its entrance with construction rubble and builders’ huts.

As a result, Pharaoh Tutankhamun rested, undisturbed and forgotten, inside his crypt in the Valley of the Kings for the next 3,200 years. Knowledge of his existence would not come to light until the 20th century.

THE RESTORATION STELA

From my research, the earliest clue to the existence of a New Kingdom pharaoh called Tutankhamun occurred with the discovery of the so-called Restoration Stela in 1905.


The Restoration Stela

This stela, discovered near the temple complex at Karnak by French Egyptologist Georges Legrain, described Egypt’s religious downfall during the time of Akhenaten and the subsequent restoration of the traditional gods by Tutankhamun. The name of Tutankhamun, however, had been erased and covered over with the name of Horemheb. We will recall from the previous installment that Horemheb, while attempting to erase the memory of Akhenaten and Ay, does not appear to have included Tut in his revenge. Horemheb’s own rise to the throne had been made possible by Tut, who had named him as his successor. For this reason, many historians believe the replacement of Tut’s name with Horemheb’s occurred during the time of Seti I and Ramesses II, as they continued, on a much larger scale, the rewriting of Amarna period history begun under Horemheb.

Whatever the case, this stela gave modern Egyptology its first clue to the existence of a previously unknown 18th dynasty pharaoh named Tutankhamun, who had somehow been caught up in the Amarna period heresy. Another clue corroborating Tut’s existence would come less than two years later, in the Valley of the Kings.

TOMB KV55

In January of 1907, American Egyptologist Theodore M. Davis, who financed excavations in the Valley of the Kings for most of the 1910’s, uncovered a royal tomb which came to be designated KV55. As discussed in the second installment of this series, KV55 contained a male mummy which may have belonged to either Akhenaten or Smenkhkara – Tut’s predecessors. Most historians believe the tomb originally belonged to Akhenaten’s mother, Queen Tiye.


The entrance to tomb KV55


The layout of tomb KV55 ("A" represents the entry staircase)

Regardless of who the tomb was originally built for, the seals on the door belonged to Tutankhamun, causing Davis to initially suspect he had found the tomb of this little-known king. However, because of the objects found inside, it quickly became apparent that the tomb had not belonged to Tut. In addition to the male mummy, the tomb included magical bricks with the name of Akhenaten, funerary equipment of Queen Tiye, canopic jars of Akhenaten’s secondary wife Queen Kiya, and other items bearing the names of Amenhotep III and one of his secondary wives, Queen Sitamun. It became clear very early on that the tomb’s history was convoluted.

Modern analysis suggests that KV55 originally belonged to Queen Tiye and that Tutankhamun, in attempting to protect his relatives’ tombs from desecration in Amarna (Akhetaten), moved a quantity of funeral equipment and mummies to this location, creating a veritable Amarna period cache inside Queen Tiye’s tomb. This, then, explains the existence of Tut’s name on the sealed doors – they were sealed under his supervision. His attempts, however, failed. The tomb was ransacked and robbed many times, and by the time Davis discovered it in 1907, it was largely in shambles.


An interior view of KV55, showing its ruinous state

As with the Restoration Stela, the primary thing of importance for this study is that KV55 gave Egyptologists yet another clue to the existence of an 18th dynasty king named Tutankhamun.

TOMB KV54

Though numbered sequentially before KV55, the “tomb” known as KV54 was discovered by Theodore Davis some eleven months after KV55, in December of 1907. KV54 is not really a tomb at all, but a shallow pit about three feet deep.

Inside lay a jumble of jars and pottery, many containing dishes, desiccated foodstuffs, discarded embalming products, and a strip of linen with Tutankhamun’s name on it.


Items discovered in KV54


A funerary wreath discovered in KV54


KV54 linen containing Tutankhamun's name

This proved to be clue number three in the rediscovery of Tut’s existence.

TOMB KV58

This is yet another tomb discovered by Theodore Davis. Excavated in 1909, it was a small, 1-room tomb that contained very little of significance.

However, gold chariot foil was found among the rubble, containing the names of both Tutankhamun and his wife. Once again, evidence of Tut’s existence was falling into the historical record, and Davis believed that this small tomb had actually belonged to Tut.


Furniture knobs discovered in KV58

In 1912, Davis published an account of his findings during his period of excavation in the Valley of the Kings, and in this book he claimed to have found the tomb of Tutankhamun. However, he made a number of factual errors in making this claim. Primarily, he indicated that the items found in KV54 (the embalming refuse and pottery) were found together with the gold chariot foil in KV58. He seems not to have realized that there were two locations (a pit and a small tomb), and that they were excavated separately, in separate years, by different archaeologists working for Davis.

Others did, however, recognize Davis’ error, and among them was a prominent Egyptologist who had supervised on Davis’ own excavations from 1902 to 1904. His name was Howard Carter, and he would eventually become obsessed with proving Davis wrong, and finding the real tomb of the newly discovered 18th dynasty king named Tutankhamun.

HOWARD CARTER

Howard Carter was a self-taught archaeologist who first came to Egypt in the late 19th century as a painter and draftsman.


Howard Carter

He worked on various excavations, including excavations in Amarna (Akhetaten) for most of the 1890’s, before being appointed the Chief Inspector of Antiquities for southern Egypt in 1899. It was in this role that he first worked with Theodore M. Davis. Carter held this post until 1905, at which time he resigned to return to painting. He met his future benefactor and patron George Herbert, the 5th Earl of Carnarvon, in 1907.

Lord Carnarvon was a collector of ancient relics and owned one of the largest private collections of ancient Egyptian artifacts in the world.


A famous image of George Herbert, 5th Earl of Carnarvon, taken in Egypt

He was eager to find a good archaeologist to do work for him in Egypt, and Carter needed a financier for his own efforts. As such, the two began a business association almost immediately. They spent most of the years between 1907 and 1914 working in various spots throughout Egypt, from the northern delta to the southern cataracts. Both, however, were primarily interested in obtaining Theodore M. Davis’ concession in the Valley of the Kings.


Carter and Carnarvon together

Their patience paid off. In mid-1914, after infamously declaring his belief that the Valley of the Kings was “exhausted,” Davis abandoned his concession there. Lord Carnarvon, shrewd and financially powerful, immediately moved on the Egyptian government to take over the work, and by the beginning of 1915, Carter – under the financial guidance of Carnarvon – was at work in the Valley of the Kings.

CARTER’S CONCLUSIONS ABOUT DAVIS’ CLAIMS

From the time of the aforementioned book by Davis, declaring that he had uncovered King Tut’s tomb, Howard Carter recognized that Davis’ conclusions were inaccurate. Not only had Davis erred in suggesting that Tut’s artifacts all came from the same place, but the two excavations in question were both far too small for either to have been a legitimate royal tomb. KV54, as noted above, was nothing more than a shallow pit, and KV58 was not only missing the wall paintings and texts integral to a pharonic tomb, but it was also comprised of only one room accessible by a vertical shaft.

Tutankhamun’s tomb, Carter reasoned, must surely have been larger and better decorated. In a book he wrote about the discovery of Tut’s tomb, Carter stated: “[Davis’] theory was quite untenable, for [tomb KV58] was small and insignificant, of a type that might very well belong to a member of the royal household in the Ramesside period, but ludicrously inadequate for a king’s burial in the Eighteenth Dynasty.” The items found inside, Carter reasoned, had simply been placed there at a later time.

As for the funeral objects found by Davis in the pit KV54, Carter stated: “[the cache represented] the materials which had been used during the funeral ceremonies of Tutankhamun, and afterwards gathered together and stacked away within the jars.”

And finally, in regards to tomb KV55 – the one with the unknown mummy and the cache of Amarna period artifacts – Carter said: “…it was Tutankhamun himself who was responsible for [the artifacts’] removal and reburial, [and] we can be reasonably sure [of this] from the fact that a number of his clay seals were found.”

Putting these conclusions together, Carter not only determined that Tut’s tomb had not yet been found, but that if it did exist, it must be somewhere near the center of the Valley of the Kings. His reason for believing this was because all three excavations – KV54, 55, and 58 – had been found near the valley’s center, with less than 350 feet separating any one from the other. Additionally, a cup with Tutankhamun’s name on it had also been found by Davis in the 1910’s, located “under a rock” in the same area as KV58.

THE SEARCH FOR TUTANKHAMUN

Carter’s work for Carnarvon in the Valley of the Kings began in 1915, but did not initially last long. Demands from World War I, which was by then raging in Europe, took Carnarvon and Carter away to more important duties, and it was not until 1917 that they were able to return to the valley to commence the search for Tutankhamun.

As mentioned previously, Carter believed Tut’s tomb, if it existed, lay somewhere beneath the unexcavated rubble scattered about the center of the Valley of the Kings. As such, he began working there from the beginning, clearing out rocks and debris and searching for any sign of a hidden tomb. One of the first places he began was near the tomb of Ramesses VI. A large amount of debris from the tomb’s construction layered the ground below and in front of it, and Carter put his men to work there. In time, they reached the ruins of the huts that had belonged to the builders of Ramesses’ tomb. Fearing he had reached a dead-end, Carter moved his efforts elsewhere.


Ruins of a Ramesside workman's hut

For six seasons Carter and his workers toiled, moving from region to region throughout the center of the valley, and always coming up empty-handed. Of course, Carter made a number of significant finds during these years, but never found any trace of Tutankhamun.

By the end of 1921, both Carter and Carnarvon were becoming disillusioned. Carter writes: “Six full seasons we had excavated there…we had worked for months at a stretch and found nothing, and only an excavator knows how desperately depressing that can be.”

Carnarvon approached Carter around this time and made it clear that he felt their time in the valley was over. He did not want to fund any further excavations. However, Carter pressed him for one more season, promising to finance the enterprise on his own if Carnarvon backed out. Carnarvon was either impressed with Carter’s tenacity, or feared that Carter would succeed without him, leaving Carnarvon in the shadow of obscurity. Whatever the reason, Carnarvon agreed to finance one more season’s excavation in the valley, making it clear that he was through with the enterprise if nothing turned up.

THE DISCOVERY OF THE TOMB OF TUTANKHAMUN

Howard Carter arrived for his seventh and final season in the Valley of the Kings on October 28, 1922. After a few days of preparation, excavating commenced on the following Wednesday. Of that day, he wrote: “I began by continuing the former excavation where it had stopped [near] the entrance to the tomb of Ramesses VI, trenching southwards. At this point there were some ancient stone huts…” He goes on to say: “These ancient huts were soon cleared of the rubbish covering them,” and he points out that the undertaking of moving the debris took three days.

On the fourth day of excavations – Saturday, November 4, 1922 – Carter and his team made a startling discovery. In his diary from that day, Carter wrote the simple, yet provocative phrase: “First steps of tomb found.”

While digging in the foundations of the first ancient hut, about twelve feet below the entrance to Ramesses VI’s tomb, Carter discovered what appeared to be a carved block sunken into the ground. He quickly cleared away the dust and pebbles and found that it had a 90-degree edge, like the top of a step. After a bit more digging, Carter realized that he had discovered the top step of a staircase descending down into the bedrock.


The still-covered entrance of King Tut's tomb

For the rest of that day, and all of the following day, Carter and his workmen dug out the staircase. By the time they had reached the twelfth step, their excavation had removed enough debris to uncover the top portion of an intact, plastered doorway at the bottom of the stairs.


The top portion of the sealed door, revealed by a partial excavation of the staircase

This doorway bore the ancient seal of the Royal Necropolis (a seal which depicted the underworld god Anubis in victory over nine enemies). In his diary, Carter wrote: “Found tomb under tomb of Ramesses VI. Investigated same and found seals intact.”

At this point, Carter did not know whose tomb he was excavating. It could have been a king or a royal family member, or it could simply have been a cache or the tomb of a noble. What Carter did know, however, was that the intact doorway, and the presence of the undisturbed Ramesside workmen’s huts right over the top of the entrance, indicated that the tomb had not been touched since the era of Ramesses VI in the 1100’s B.C.E. This belief was further solidified when he cut a small hole in the top of the sealed door and looked into the area beyond. There, he saw a passageway filled to the top with rock and debris – a backfill used to secure the tomb, and yet another indication that the tomb had not been touched since it was last sealed, sometime prior to the era of Ramesses VI.

Carter later wrote: “It was a thrilling moment for an excavator…suddenly [to] find himself, after so many years of toilsome work, on the verge of what looked like a magnificent discovery – an untouched tomb.”


The tomb entrance, with rubble completely removed

Not wanting to leave his patron out of the thrill of discovery, he refilled the excavated stairs with rubble and sent a telegram to Carnarvon in England that stated: “At last have made wonderful discovery in Valley [stop] a magnificent tomb with seals intact [stop] recovered same for your arrival [stop] congratulations.”

What Carter did not know at the time was that if he had simply dug a few more feet into the ground before filling the excavation back up, he would have seen the seal of Tutankhamun, positioned low on the plaster doorway.

THE OPENING OF THE TOMB

In the 1920’s, traveling from England to Egypt was no small task, and Carnarvon did not arrive on site until November 24, nearly three weeks later. During the interim, word of Carter’s discovery began to spread, and “treasure fever” was already beginning to seep through the world of Egyptology. Once Carnarvon arrived, Carter immediately recommenced the excavation, once again digging out the stairwell, and going this time all the way down to the bottom.

There proved to be sixteen stairs in all, and with the entire door free of debris, Tutankhamun’s name was clear.


A portion of the first sealed door, showing the seal of the Royal Necropolis, and Tutankhamun's name

However, this still did not prove that Tutankhamun’s tomb had been discovered. It should be recalled that tomb KV55, discovered by Theodore Davis, was an Amarna period cache, evidently secreted away during the reign of Tutankhamun. And that tomb, like the one Carter had discovered, bore sealed doors with the name of Tutankhamun. Was this yet another cache of Amarna period artifacts, stored under the orders of King Tut?

The evidence, at the time, pointed in that direction. Among the debris in front of the sealed door was an array of strewn artifacts – potsherds, shattered boxes, jewelry. Throughout these fragments the names of Akhenaten, Smenkhkara, Tutankhamun, Amenhotep III, and Thutmosis III all appeared. Except for the latter, all these kings were Amarna period pharaohs, and all four had also been associated with the cache in tomb KV55. About these speculations, Carter wrote: “These conflicting data led us for a time to believe that we were about to open a royal cache of the El-Amarna branch of the 18th dynasty monarchs.”

On the following day, November 25, Carter and his team took down the first door and began excavating the rubble-filled passageway beyond. It proved to be an undecorated corridor roughly 25 feet in length and descending at a 17-degree angle. More random artifacts were discovered amongst this rubble, and the team began to fear that whatever lay inside had been plundered many times.

At the end of the corridor, they found another sealed door. This door also bore the name of Tutankhamun.

One can only imagine the feeling of suspense and excitement that must have pervaded the gathered adventurers as a small hole was made in the upper left corner of the second door. Carter obtained a candle and lit it. Not only would its illumination help him to see into the area beyond, but the flame would help test the viability of the air. With the candle in hand, Carter reached up to the tiny opening, put the candle next to it, and peered inside.

“EVERYWHERE THE GLINT OF GOLD”

What Carter saw in the dim illumination of the candle was a trove of ancient Egyptian treasures, some stacked neatly, others cast wildly along the ground. As Carter stared, speechless, Lord Carnarvon – who was standing with his wife and several others behind Carter – said, “Can you see anything?” Although Carter’s famous reply is said to have been, “Yes, wonderful things,” he later wrote that what he actually said was, “Yes, it is wonderful.”

About that famous moment, Carter later said: “With trembling hands, I made a tiny breach in the upper left hand corner. Widening the hole a little, I inserted the candle and peered in. At first I could see nothing, the hot air escaping from the chamber causing the candle to flicker. Presently, details of the room emerged slowly from the mist, strange animals, statues, and gold – everywhere the glint of gold.”

Carter later gave a more detailed description of what he saw:

Two strange ebony-black effigies of a King, gold sandaled, bearing staff and mace, loomed out from the cloak of darkness; gilded couches in strange forms, lion-headed, Hathor-headed, and beast infernal; exquisitely painted, inlaid, and ornamental caskets; flowers; alabaster vases, some beautifully executed of lotus and papyrus device; strange black shrines with a gilded monster snake appearing from within…

The first chamber, looking right.

After investigating the first chamber, it became clear to Carter that, in fact, they had discovered the unmolested tomb of Tutankhamun, and not a mere cache.

The tomb proved to have four rooms.


The layout of Tut's tomb, KV62

Carter dubbed the first room the “antechamber.”


The antechamber, looking left. Dismantled chariots lay at the left side of the picture.


The antechamber, center rear wall. The round, white containers beneath the cow-shaped bed contained food.

A small hole in the rear wall of this room led into another chamber that Carter called the “annex.”


Entrance to the annex, rear left of the antechamber


A closer shot of the annex entrance, after some of the artifacts had been removed

A sealed door on the right of the antechamber led into the burial chamber, and an open doorway off the right wall of the burial chamber led to what Carter dubbed the “treasury.”


Inside the antechamber, looking right, toward the sealed door leading to the burial chamber


Inside the treasury

Each room was filled with artifacts, including furniture, clothes, jewelry, games, chariots, food, models, weapons, and statues.


One of three beds taken from the tomb


A model boat


The canopic shrine, containing the remains of Tut's mummified internal organs


One of Tut's four chariots


Tut's throne, depicting the king with his wife

Furthermore, the burial chamber contained – in addition to the paintings detailed in previous installments – a large golden shrine.


The shrine inside the burial chamber, as seen from the antechamber


Close-up of the shrine, seen through the open doorway from the antechamber


The top of the shrine. Note the wall paintings.


A famous image taken as Carter first opened the shrine


Color photograph of the shrine today

Inside the shrine was Tut’s sarcophagus, and inside the sarcophagus were Tut’s three coffins, each stacked inside the previous one like a Marushka doll.


Carter used a pulley system to remove each successive coffin


Tut's mummy inside the third coffin, covered with a linen cloth

Interestingly, the lid of the sarcophagus showed obvious evidence of having been broken in half and then resealed. Apparently the lid was dropped during the burial.


The broken sarcophagus lid, most likely repaired by the priests who presided over Tut's funeral

Within the last coffin, with a magnificent golden death mask covering the head, was Tutankhamun’s mummy, lying where it had been placed more than 3,000 years earlier.


In addition to the death mask, the mummy had a funeral wreath around its neck, similar to the one found in KV54 (pictured above)







Of first seeing Tut’s mummy, Carter wrote: “The penultimate scene was disclosed – a very neatly wrapped mummy of the young king, with golden mask of sad but tranquil expression, symbolizing Osiris. The similitude of the youthful Tutankhamun until now known only by name, amid that sepulchral silence, made us realize the past.”


A pictured taken just as the sarcophagus lid was raised for the first time. Inside are Tut's three coffins, covered by a linen cloth.


Carter removing the linen cloth


Tut's coffins revealed to human eyes for the first time in more than 3,000 years


The lower portion of Tut's mummy, unwrapped. Note the shoes on the feet.


The mummified face of Tutankhamun

In all, Carter spent nearly ten years excavating Tut’s tomb. He was so methodical, in fact, that he did not even open the sarcophagus to take a first peek at the mummy until 1925. Though he never published a scholarly account of his findings, he did write a book together with one of his co-workers, entitled “The Discovery of the Tomb of Tutankhamun.”

ANCIENT ROBBERIES

Despite finding literally thousands of artifacts in the tomb of Tutankhamun, and despite the popular idea that Tut’s tomb was found intact, Carter realized almost from the beginning that the tomb had been robbed at least twice in antiquity.

His first clue came from the very first sealed doorway – the one found at the bottom of the entrance stairs. It had the undeniable marks of two separate repairs, one along the middle left side of the door, and the other above, in the top left corner. The second sealed door – the one leading into the first chamber – showed identical repairs. Furthermore, the corridor in between, which was backfilled with rocks, also showed evidence of a breech. In the upper left corner of the wall of debris, the backfill was of a different substance – instead of chipped, white stones, it consisted of large, dark rocks.


The entrance corridor after the removal of the first sealed door. Note the different rock types filling the upper left corner.

This area of different stone corresponded to the resealing in the upper left corner of the two doors. Also, there were broken artifacts both on the bottom of this backfill, and scattered throughout it at the level of the refilled backfill. Finally, evidence of plundering was apparent inside the tomb. Many of the treasures had been rifled through, and a number of items were broken, lying where the ancient tomb robbers had cast them.


Evidence of the presence of tomb robbers

Carter brought in a criminal investigator to look at the tomb and determine if, in fact, it had been robbed, or if it had simply been carelessly assembled to start with. This investigator concluded that the tomb had, without a doubt, been robbed. In his report, the investigator stated: “…objects were overturned (i.e. the carved wood chair and various boxes); objects were carefully thrust out of the way; objects had been deliberately broken; boxes had been opened and their contents roughly turned over, or more probably turned out, and carelessly replaced, since sometimes part of an object was found in one box and part in another…; an alabaster box was found near one end of the antechamber and the lid at the other end…”

Evidence suggested that every room had been entered by looters, and they appear to have been especially interested in oils and unguents, which could have been sold for a high price on the black market, and which are otherwise absent from the tomb.

The modern theory about the robberies suggests that the first robbery took place a very short time – perhaps only months – after Tut was buried, during the reign of Ay. Following this robbery (which the thieves appear to have gotten away with), the tomb was hastily put back in order by the priests, the breached doors were resealed (including the sealed door between the antechamber and the burial chamber), and the entry corridor – which had been empty before – was completely backfilled with chipped, white rock. Broken artifacts dropped by the thieves inside the corridor were simply covered over by the backfill.

Sometime later, in the reign of Horemheb, the tomb was breached again. These thieves cut through the top left portion of the outer door, tunneled through the top left portion of the chipped rock, broke through the top left portion of the second door, and entered the chamber. These looters appear to have been looking for anything of value they could take. In addition to ransacking the antechamber, they broke through the sealed door at the bottom of the rear wall and entered the annex.

It appears that these second robbers were caught in the act, because a number of objects had been dropped right in front of the antechamber doorway, including a cup that was still lying there when Howard Carter first entered. Additionally, items from the tomb, including jewelry, were found broken and scattered amongst the rubble covering the outside stairs, and in the refilled backfill inside the corridor. These discoveries indicated that whoever had dropped the items had been attempting to leave in a hurry.

After this robbery, the priests again resealed the doorways, but they left the breech between the antechamber and the annex open. The tumbled plaster blocks were still lying scattered inside the annex when Howard Carter entered it, and several jars had been moved and placed on top of the fallen blocks, probably by the looters. The priests also refilled the tunnel the second group of looters had made through the backfilled entry corridor, but used larger, darker rocks to refill it. After that, the tomb was apparently never breached again.

As stated earlier, the first robbery is believed to have occurred within months of Tut’s death. Oils and unguents were conspicuously absent from the tomb, and for these to have been of importance to thieves, the thieves would have needed to obtain them very quickly, before they spoiled. The second robbery, however, is believed to have occurred some years later, during Horemheb’s reign. The primary reason for this is because the name of one of his priests was found on a jar inside Tut’s tomb. This same person is known from the historical record to have been in charge of repairing Thutmosis IV’s tomb, which was robbed during Horemheb’s reign. The evidence, then, suggests that this same priest was in charge of resealing Tut’s tomb, and left his mark by signing his name on one of the jars inside the tomb.

EGYPT’S LONGEST REIGNING KING

The ancient Egyptians believed that their mummified kings, if deemed worthy in the afterlife, would become gods and live forever, ruling from the divine realm. They also believed that the king, in his divine afterlife, would need all the trappings of his earthly life. For this reason, kings were buried with furniture, clothes, food, dishes, chariots, weapons – all the things the king used on a daily basis during life. Ancient Egyptians did not kill and bury servants or slaves with their kings as some ancient cultures did; instead, the Egyptians built small statues – called ushabtis – which represented the king’s servants, and who would subsequently accompany him on his journey through the underworld.


One of Tut's ushabtis, situated inside a niche in the burial chamber

The tomb of every New Kingdom pharaoh, other than King Tut, was looted and cleaned out in antiquity. Ancient priests even removed many of the kings’ mummies from their tombs and stored them in caches, hoping to save the precious body (which was necessary for survival in the afterlife) from destruction by thieves. These kings’ mummies exist in museums today because the protective caches were found. Only Tutankhamun’s tomb was never emptied out; only Tutankhamun’s mummy was never stolen from its coffin and either moved or destroyed; and only Tutankhamun continues to lie in his own tomb in the Valley of the Kings, even to this very day.

In that sense, one of the least significant kings of the New Kingdom era has become, for us, the most enduring and best remembered.

“Three thousand, four thousand years maybe, have passed and gone since human feet last trod the floor on which you stand, and yet, as you notice the signs of recent life around you – the half-filled bowl of mortar for the door, the blackened lamp, the finger mark upon the freshly painted surface, the farewell garland dropped upon the threshold – you feel it might have been but yesterday. The very air you breathe, unchanged throughout the centuries, you share with those who laid the mummy to its rest. Time is annihilated by little intimate details such as these…”

~ Howard Carter

* In writing this series of essays, I have used a number of online and print resources. Among the most prominent online resources were www.touregypt.net, www.kingtutone.com, www.griffith.ox.ac.uk, and www.wikipedia.org. Print resources included Howard Carter's book "The Discovery of the Tomb of Tutankhamun," and "Ancient Egypt: An Illustrated Reference to the Myths, Religions, Pyramids, and Temples of the Land of the Pharaohs," by Lorna Oakes and Lucia Gahlin. Perhaps the best resource I found was the Theban Mapping Project's website at www.thebanmappingproject.com. The Theban Mapping Project is a foundation dedicated to electronically mapping all the tombs and temples of Thebes, including the Valley of the Kings. This website has fully interactive 3D images of all the tombs in the Valley of the Kings, complete with descriptions, dimensions, and color images. It is an absolutely wonderful resource.

The Life, Death, and Modern Discovery of Pharaoh Tutankhamun, Part III

INTRODUCTION

Following the death of the teenage pharaoh Tutankhamun, his principle advisor, Ay, became king and ruled for roughly four years. We have already looked at the circumstances surrounding Tut’s death and Ay’s ascension to the throne, so now we turn to a brief look at who Ay was, and how his own successor’s reign helped ensure that the young King Tut would be forgotten to history.


A well-preserved bust of Tut

AY’S RISE TO POWER

Ay was a commoner most likely born in the Egyptian town of Khentmin, where he commissioned the building of a small temple.


A 15-foot statue of Ramesses II's daughter (and later wife), Meritamun, at Khentmin (modern Akhmim)

Ay is believed to be the son of Yuya, a priest of the god Min and later a prominent military advisor to Amenhotep III. Ay’s sister was most likely the queen of Amenhotep III, Tiye. Yuya, as the father-in-law to Amenhotep, was honored by that pharaoh with his own tomb in the Valley of the Kings, a rare privilege for someone who was otherwise not royalty.


Yuya's chariot, found in his tomb in the Valley of the Kings. Prior to the discovery of Tut's tomb, the tomb of Yuya and his wife was the least disturbed of any royal tomb in the Valley of the Kings.


Yuya's wooden sarcophagus


Yuya's inner and outer coffins


The death mask of Yuya's mummy


The death mask of Yuya's wife, Tjuya

No doubt thanks to the prominence of his priestly father and queenly sister, Ay appears to have moved up quickly through the social hierarchy of ancient Egypt, becoming a successful military leader and later an advisor of Amenhotep’s son and successor, Akhenaten.


A bust of Ay

Genealogically, Akhenaten would have been Ay’s nephew. There is also some evidence to suggest that Ay’s daughter was none other than Akhenaten’s principle wife, Nefertiti.


One of the most famous busts in all of ancient Egyptian art, depicting Akhenaten's powerful wife, Nefertiti

Akhenaten appears to have relied quite a bit on old “Uncle Ay,” and Ay stayed loyal to his king when Akhenaten instituted his religious revolution, outlawing the Egyptian pantheon and instituting a monotheistic worship of the sun disc god, the Aten.


Akhenaten (left) and Nefertiti, along with three of their daughters, spending a "family moment" beneath the rays of the Aten

Ay appears to have gone along with this change, and his loyalty apparently paid off for him – Ay was allowed to commission the building a tomb for himself in Akhenaten’s city of Akhetaten, and Ay was elevated to the “Overseer of All the King’s Horses,” a prominent military position within the charioteering division of the king’s army. Additionally, in his tomb at Akhetaten, one of Ay’s titles is given as “Fan-Bearer on the Right Side of the King,” a position which implied close personal associations with the king.


Ay and his wife worshipping the Aten in Ay's Akhetaten tomb


The 8-pillared hall in Ay's extensive tomb in Akhetaten

It cannot be known for certain whether Ay went along with his nephew’s monotheism out of genuine religious conviction, or whether it was simply political convenience. However, the fact that Ay helped lead Egypt’s return to the old pantheon after Akhenaten’s death would imply that Ay’s religious convictions were more politically motivated than spiritually motivated. In the opinion of many historians, Ay was simply a shrewd politician who knew how to follow the undercurrents of society and affairs of state in order to elevate his own status and power. And, of course, it worked. Ay managed to finagle his way into the kingship after Tut died.

THE REIGN OF AY

Tut’s master general, or Commander of the Armies, was a man named Horemheb, and Horemheb was apparently designated as Tut’s successor, a conclusion arrived at by the fact that Horemheb was named Tut’s “deputy” and regnal “son.” However, as we have already seen in a previous installment, Ay managed to outmaneuver Horemheb, in part by marrying Tut’s widow and claiming the throne for himself. The exact methods used by Ay to outwit Horemheb, however, are not clear.

As previously stated, Ay ruled for only about four years. By ancient Egyptian standards, he would have been an old man by the time he took the throne, and it is likely that he died a natural death, though the circumstances of his demise are not known. During his brief reign, he commissioned the building of several temples, and continued promoting the return to the old pantheon, which he, of course, had helped initialize as the principle advisor to Tut.

Following his own death, Ay was buried in a modest tomb in the Valley of the Kings (abandoning his original tomb in Akhetaten).


An unusual scene depicting Ay hunting ducks, from his tomb in the Valley of the Kings

It is uncertain whether Ay had any children of his own, but his chosen successor was a military officer named Nakhtmin who is noted on artifacts from Ay’s period as being the “King’s Son.” It is not clear, however, if this was literal or metaphorical.


Nakhtmin, the chosen successor of Ay, and likely his son

The problem, of course, is that Nakhtmin did not end up succeeding Ay to the throne.

HOREMHEB’S RISE TO POWER

Horemheb, the Commander of the Armies, and the named successor of Tut who had been outwitted for the throne by Ay, finally had his day and secured the throne from Nakhtmin after Ay’s death.


General Horemheb

Like Ay’s ascendancy, just how Horemheb pulled this off is unclear, but there can be little doubt that his position as Tut’s chosen successor played a prominent role. Furthermore, since Ay was a commoner who had managed to usurp the throne following the young Tut’s death, it is likely that the royal legitimacy of any of his own offspring would have been challenged. Ay was not of royal blood, and Ay had, himself, never been named as a royal successor, so any proclamations of succession that he made during his reign would not have been binding after his death. Horemheb was also a commoner, but had been named by a legitimate king – Tutankhamun – as a successor. These circumstances are likely what led to Horemheb’s rise to power. The fact that Nakhtmin was only a young military officer, and Horemheb was a veteran politician and master general of all the armies, no doubt played a significant role as well.

Interestingly, the statute upon which Nakhtmin was proclaimed as Ay’s successor has strong evidence of intentional damage, implying that Horemheb’s ascendancy was not entirely peaceful. But a policy of attempting to destroy all evidence of his predecessors, as we shall see, became the central policy, and most enduring legacy, of Horemheb’s reign.

THE REIGN OF HOREMHEB

Unlike his immediate predecessors, Horemheb apparently ruled for quite a long time, nearly thirty years. Almost from the very beginning, he made a systematic attempt to erase his enemy, Ay, from history.

We have already seen that the statue mentioning Ay’s named successor, Nakhtmin, was intentionally damaged. In addition to that, Horemheb ordered the desecration of Ay’s tomb in the Valley of the Kings. The paintings of Ay on the walls were chiseled out, along with his name, and his sarcophagus was smashed into pieces. It is likely that Ay’s mummy was also destroyed, as it has never been found. Ay’s tomb was discovered in the early 19th century, and the fragments from the sarcophagus were still on the ground, and the lid, which was intact, had been buried by debris.


A larger view of the duck hunting scene above, showing Ay in his boat, with his face and part of his body defaced


Ay's sarcophagus in his burial chamber in the Valley of the Kings. Note the repaired damage to the sarcophagus, and the defaced images of Ay in the paintings on the walls.

Horemheb also usurped Ay’s mortuary temple for himself, chiseling out Ay’s name and images, and replacing them with his own.


A bird's eye view of Medinet Habu, the holy place where the moturary temple of Ay and Horemheb was located. Some 100 years later, Ramesses III built an enormous temple here, which dominates this photo. The ruins of Ay and Horemheb's much smaller temple are located in the desert area beyond the upper right wall of the main complex.

Horemheb was clearly intent on not only ruining Ay’s passage through the underworld, but also on removing Ay from history and asserting that his kingship was illegitimate.

In addition to his revenge against Ay, Horemheb appears to have been the first pharaoh to begin a systematic destruction of all the monuments and writings pertaining to the era of Akhenaten. This era is commonly called “the Amarna Period,” because Amarna is the modern name for Akhenaten’s holy city of Akhetaten. Though Horemheb was a prominent figure in the court of the heretic king, it is not clear that he ever really accepted Akhenaten’s new religion, the way Ay apparently did. Evidence suggests that Horemheb ordered the destruction of the city of Akhetaten, and he used dismantled stones from Akhetaten in his own monuments elsewhere. Furthermore, Horemheb was probably the first pharaoh to begin systematically removing the names and images of Amarna-era kings from statutes, stelas, temples, and other structures.

Horemheb, however, appears to have left Tutankhamun’s legacy alone. This is most likely due to the fact that Horemheb’s own claim to the throne came directly from Tutankhamun, so he naturally felt that Tut did not deserve to be lumped in with the likes of Akhenaten, Smenkhkara, and Ay. During Horemheb’s reign, the tombs of both Tutankhamun and an earlier 18th dynasty pharaoh named Thutmosis IV were vandalized, and Horemheb commissioned their repair.


The remarkably well-preserved face of Thutmosis IV. Thutmosis was likely the great-grandfather of King Tut. He is remembered primarily as being the first person who ever commissioned an official government restoration of the Sphinx at Giza, which was already more than 1,000 years old at the time of Thutmosis.

Unfortunately, Horemheb’s leniency toward his patron Tut did not extend to Horemheb’s own successors. Horemheb, like a number of the kings before him, died without an heir, so he named his principle advisor, Paramessu to succeed him. Paramessu had both a son and a grandson, so Horemheb, in addition to rewarding his faithful servant, also hoped to prevent the sort of succession crises that had marked the last several generations of Egyptian royal history.

THE 19th ANCIENT EGYPTIAN DYNASTY

Paramessu took the reigns of power as an old man and only appears to have lived a year or two before his death. During that time, however, he took the throne name of Ramesses, and inaugurated Egypt’s 19th ancient dynasty. His own son was named Seti, and Seti became a very powerful king who ruled for some 10-15 years. Seti’s son, in turn, would eventually become Ramesses II, or Ramesses the Great, and would reign well into his 90’s, marking the height of Egypt’s Golden Age during the New Kingdom era.


The mummy of Ramesses II. His advanced age at death (over 90) is evident in his features.


The startlingly regal mummy of Seti I, father of Ramesses II

These early 19th dynasty pharaohs continued Horemheb’s campaign to rid Egyptian history of the Amarna period heresy. By the time of Ramesses II, the city of Akhetaten lay in ruins, and even much of the historical record discussing events of the Amarna period had been destroyed. Furthermore, 19th dynasty kings did not have the same respect for Tutankhamun that Horemheb evidently had. It did not matter that the old pantheon had been restored under the boy king; Tutankhamun was from the family line of Akhenaten, and was likely his son, and as such, his legacy got caught up in the systematic destruction of Amarna period history.

In addition to chiseling out Tut’s name and image from many structures, his name, along with that of Akhenaten, Smenkhkara, Neferneferuaten, and Ay, were omitted from several “king lists” created during the times of Seti I and Ramesses II. The so-called “Abydos King List” skips right from Amenhotep III and goes straight to Horemheb.


The Abydos King List

Furthermore, at least one historical document – a text discussing a court case that occurred during the reign of Horemheb – refers to Year 59 of Horemheb’s reign. As discussed above, Horemheb is only known to have ruled for about 30 years; however, if you take the years comprised by the reigns of Akhenaten, Smenkhkara, Neferneferuaten, Tut, and Ay, then add those to the known years of Horemheb’s reign, it equals roughly 59 or 60 years. Clearly history was being rewritten to suppose that Horemheb had directly succeeded Amenhotep III.

TUTANKHAMUN’S EXISTENCE LOST TO HISTORY

As a result of all this, within 200 years of his death, Tut appears to have been forgotten by Egyptian culture. While Akhenaten’s legacy was prominent and scandalous enough to be remembered despite attempts to destroy it, Tutankhamun – as a boy king who died young and never had much chance to secure a strong legacy – was easily forgotten. Added together with the intentional attempts to destroy all memory of the Amarna period, it is not surprising that Tut was lost to history.

The fact that knowledge of Tut’s existence was lost even to later-era ancient Egyptians is evidenced by several facts. First, the tomb of Ramesses VI, who lived and died about 200 years after Tut, was built right on top of Tut’s tomb. One chamber of Ramesses VI’s tomb, in fact, comes within about 6 feet of breaking through the entryway to Tut’s tomb. Furthermore, there is evidence of Ramesses-era construction huts built right over the entrance of Tut’s tomb. Clearly the builders had no idea that the boy king’s tomb lay right beneath them as they were digging out the earth. This further suggests that the location of the tomb was not even included on construction documents that most surely would have existed for the tomb builders in the Valley of the Kings. Tut’s existence was simply forgotten.

Second, a king list from the period of the Ptolemies, in roughly 300 B.C.E., neglects to mention Tut’s name. This list, compiled by the Egyptian historian Manetho about 1000 years after Tut’s death, was used by later historians of Egypt to list the pharaohs, and Tut’s exclusion from this list was simply perpetuated. Manetho no doubt based his king list on earlier lists, such as the aforementioned Abydos King List, but if it had been known by the time of Manetho that Tut and others were left off that earlier list, the historian Manetho would surely have added them to his own documents. His failure to do this makes it clear that Tut’s existence was long forgotten by the 300’s B.C.E.

Finally, the fact that Tut’s tomb was found largely intact, and was never cleaned out by grave robbers in antiquity, is further evidence that knowledge of his existence had been lost, even to the ancients. Many of the tombs in the Valley of the Kings have been accessible to the public since ancient times. The aforementioned tomb of Ramesses VI, for instance, has thousands of individual ancient graffiti in it, with scribbled dates as early as 25 B.C.E., and leading up through the 1st century C.E., and beyond. No one entered Tut’s tomb, because no one knew it was there.

Considering that Tut was the victim of a successful Orwellian-style attempt to rewrite history, and considering that even the ancient Egyptians who came after Tut had already forgotten him, how is it that his existence was finally discovered by modern historians? And how did the rediscovery of his existence lead to the discovery of his intact tomb in the 20th century? That will be discussed in the fourth and final installment.

The Life, Death, and Modern Discovery of Pharaoh Tutankhamun, Part II

INTRODUCTION

The young king Tutankhamun, 12th ruler of Egypt’s 18th dynasty, met a sudden and untimely end while still a teenager. The exact nature of his death is uncertain, and prevailing theories have changed over time. However, it was known almost from the time of his mummy’s discovery that he died young – this led to speculation that he had been killed, either accidentally or intentionally.

DEATH AND BURIAL

After Tutankhamun died, he was buried in the Valley of the Kings – a necropolis in the hilly southwestern desert where royalty of the New Kingdom era were buried.


The Valley of the Kings

Tut’s tomb is smaller than most royal tombs in the Valley of the Kings; its size is more in keeping with the tomb of a prominent advisor, or a royal family member. Additionally, only the burial chamber is painted – unlike most other royal tombs that have paintings on all the chamber walls. These facts, along with his untimely death, indicate that Tut was probably buried in haste, and was not buried in a tomb of his own commissioning.

The paintings on the tomb indicate that there were eight official mourners for the deceased pharaoh, and that Tutankhamun’s principle advisor, Ay, presided over the funerary proceedings. Ay is depicted performing the “Opening of the Mouth” ceremony on Tutankhamun.


Ay, at right, performing the Opening of the Mouth ceremony on Tut's mummy

This was a religious ritual that symbolized the breathing of life into the deceased. The same wall also depicts the spirit of the king (his “ka”) being welcomed by the goddess Nut and the green-skinned god of the underworld, Osiris.


Full image of the rear wall. Ay and Tut at right. Nut greeting Tut in the center. Tut and his ka embracing Osiris at far left.

Another painting in the tomb depicts Tut’s sarcophagus begin transported to burial on a sledge accompanied by three advisors, one of whom may have been the general of Tut’s armies, Horemheb. According to one source (http://www.egyptsites.co.uk/), this is an unusual type of scene, and was more common in private tombs than royal tombs.

Other paintings show Tut, accompanied by the jackal-headed Anubis, standing before the goddess Hathor.


Anubis at left, Tut in the center, and Hathor at right offering an ankh to Tut

Still another shows Tut being welcomed by Isis, Hathor, and Anubis. Additionally, one wall is decorated with a series of apes, representing a passage from the Amduat – an Egyptian funerary text. This text told of the sun god’s passage through the 12 hours of the night before his rebirth at dawn. The Egyptians believed their kings would make this passage in a solar boat, and the apes represented the first hour of the 12-hour passage.


The baboons of the first hour. Note Tut in his solar boat at the top left.

The fact that only the first hour was depicted in art is indicative of the haste with which Tut was evidently buried, and the limitations of the small tomb.


A shot showing three walls of the tomb. At right are the eight mourners, pulling Tut's coffin on a sledge

Tutankhamun did not have any surviving children; he was buried along with two mummified daughters, both apparently stillborns. His wife, however, seems to have outlived him by several years, and there is an intriguing mystery about just what happened to her in the wake of his death. This mystery may also serve as a clue to determine how Tutankhamun, himself, met his end.

WAS TUT MURDERED?

As I mentioned above, many historians have speculated that Tutankhamun was murdered. The most recent and prominent of these historians is American Egyptologist Bob Brier, who wrote a best-selling book called “The Murder of Tutankhamun: A True Story” in 1998, followed by several television documentaries discussing the same subject. Buy the book here.



Brier’s theory was largely based on a 1960’s X-ray exam of Tut’s skull which indicated the pharaoh had suffered head trauma. This was based on a bone fragment that was discovered in the rear of the cranium – a fragment apparently broken off from some other spot in the skull. Furthermore, an expert used by Brier to analyze the X-ray film suggested that there was evidence of a subdural hematoma at the base of the skull. This sort of injury occurs with a major blow to the head. The bone fragment, according to Brier and his expert, came from the site of this trauma.


The pointer indicates the spot of the alleged subdural hematoma. The bone fragment in question is in the upper left corner of the dark skull cavity.

However, the presence of a subdural hematoma and a bone fragment – while indicating a probable cause of death – does not tell us whether it was intentional or accidental.

However, other historical evidence also suggests foul play, and it was this evidence, together with the 1960’s radiological data, that led Brier to speculate on a murder plot surrounding Tutankhamun.

THE HITTITE LETTER

Among the historical evidence suggesting foul play, the most prominent is an ancient correspondence that has come to be known as the Hittite Letter. This letter, and the story surrounding it, comes to us from the capital of the Hittite empire, Hattusa. The correspondence was sent to the Hittite king Suppiluliuma I, and was sent from a widowed Egyptian queen, called Dakhamunzu in the Hittite annals. This name – Dakhamunzu – is believed to be a Hittite translation of the Egyptian title “Tahemetnesu” – the Royal Wife.

In the letter, this Egyptian queen informs the Hittite king that her husband has died without any male heirs. The implication is that she is fearful about what will happen to her without any sons to protect her. She goes on to say that she knows the Hittite king has many sons, and she asks him to send one to her, so she can marry him. She finishes by saying that she is afraid that she will be forced to marry “one of her subjects.”

The Hittite king received this letter with great suspicion. According to Hittite chronicles, he sent an envoy to Egypt to meet with the queen and determine if the story was legitimate. When the envoy returned, confirming the queen’s story, the king sent one of his sons, a prince named Zannanza. Zannanza, however, was ambushed at the borders of Egypt and murdered.

Most Egyptologists believe the queen in question was Tutankhamun’s widow, Ankhesenamun.


Bust of Queen Ankhesenamun

The time period fits, as does the content of the letter. King Tut died without any obvious heirs, leaving his wife without a royal protector. Furthermore, other kings of the era – such as Amenhotep III and Akhenaten – clearly had successors in line for the throne.

Putting the evidence together, an intriguing scenario begins to form. Without a son to take the throne and bring her under his protection, Ankhesenamun appears to have been fearful that she would be forced to marry one of her subjects. This may seem odd at first glance, but it is clear that no widowed Egyptian queen would have been forced to marry a common laborer or farmer, even under the direst of circumstances. Most historians believe Ankhesenamun was referring to one of Tut’s advisors – a man of power and influence, but still a non-royal commoner (thus, one of her “subjects”). Bob Brier believes this person was Tut’s principle advisor, Ay.


One of the few surviving busts of Ay

According to Brier’s theory, Ay had his heart set on succeeding Tutankhamun to the throne, and there could have been no better way to legitimize his claim than by marrying Tutankhamun’s young widow. Ankhesenamun, however, seems to have been repulsed by this idea, so she appealed to the Hittite king to send her a royal prince. Brier believes Ay got wind of Ankhesenamun’s treachery and had the Hittite prince murdered when he arrived in Egypt.

After that, it appears that Ankhesenamun was left without much choice; she apparently married Ay and helped to legitimize his claim to the throne. This is testified to by an artifact discovered in the 1930’s listing Ay and Ankhesenamun as the royal couple.


A ring depicting Ay and Ankhesenamun married

Shortly after Ay became pharaoh, Ankhesenamun disappears from the historical record, and Ay’s own tomb depicts another woman as his principle wife.

This evidence, when connected back to the radiological evidence of a subdural hematoma and bone fragment in Tut’s mummy, makes Ay a prime suspect for also murdering Tut. Ay, the king’s principle advisor and a shrewd politician, would have made most of the important decisions during the young pharaoh’s reign. This taste of unrestricted power may have tempted Ay to use his own influence to arrange Tutankhamun’s assassination. Afterward, he pressured Tut’s widow to marry him, in order to seal his claim on the throne. When she tried to subvert this by asking the Hittite king for a princely husband, Ay stepped in and murdered the prince before he could reach Ankhesenamun. After marrying Tut’s widow and securing the throne, Ay had her killed as well. In the aforementioned painting in Tut’s tomb, where Ay is shown performing the Opening of the Mouth ceremony on Tut’s mummy, Ay is depicted already wearing a royal crown. This is unusual, and is yet more evidence for Brier and others that Ay may have been involved in duplicity regarding Tut’s death. In his book, Brier even goes so far as to suggest that Ay was responsible for the murders of Tut’s predecessors, Smenkhkara, Neferneferuaten, and even Akhenaten (although there is no historical evidence to suggest any of these pharaohs was murdered).

For Brier, Ay was the classic villain willing to wait many years for his prize, and willing to lie, cheat, steal, and kill to achieve his cunning and well-crafted goal.

Whatever the case, Ay lived only a short time, ruling for about four years before his death.

ANALYSIS OF THE MURDER THEORY

While Brier’s theory is certainly intriguing and makes for a great story, his ideas are probably more fiction than fact.

First of all, much of the evidence drawn from the Hittite Letter and the Hittite annals is speculative – we do not know for certain that the author of the letter was, in fact, Ankhesenamun. Secondly, even if she was the author, we do not know if her fears were actually the result of pressure from Ay, or simply that she feared being caught up in the tribulation that was surely to follow the death of a pharaoh without an heir. It may simply have been that she feared being forced to marry a commoner – any commoner, even a royal advisor – which, after having first been the daughter of a pharaoh, and later the wife of a pharaoh, would have been understandably horrifying for her. Finally, even if Ankhesenamun was the author, and even if her fears were due to pressures from Ay, that does not mean that Ay was responsible for Prince Zannanza’s murder, and it certainly does not mean that Ay arranged the assassinations of Tutankhamun and his predecessors.

In the end, Brier’s conclusions are, at best, speculation based on very circumstantial evidence. In Brier’s defense, however, he openly admitted at the time of the book’s publication that his “charges” against Ay would not hold up in a modern court of law, but were simply speculations based on the evidence.*

But what about the radiological evidence of trauma to Tut’s skull? That was, after all, a key aspect to Brier’s theory. Unfortunately for Brier (as we shall see), and actually resulting, in part, from the hype surrounding Brier’s theory, a more detailed study of the mummy using CT technology took place in 2005, about seven years after Brier’s book was published.

MODERN RADIOLOGICAL STUDIES ON TUTANKHAMUN’S MUMMY

The CT study in 2005 conclusively dismissed the earlier studies and found no significant evidence of trauma to Tut’s skull.


Dr. Zahi Hawass, Secretary General of the Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities, by Tut's mummy as it enters the CT scanner

The researchers did not find evidence to support Brier’s own conclusions about a subdural hematoma, and the team concluded that the bone fragment was from damage that occurred post-mortem, possibly even in the 20th century. Their conclusion on this point was primarily based on the fact that no other evidence of head trauma existed to explain the fragment, and the fragment itself was not covered in embalming materials, as it would have been if it had been loose inside the skull during mummification.

Additionally, the team found no evidence of any disease process in the body, and asserted that: “Judging from his bones, the king was generally in good health…There are no signs of malnutrition or infectious disease in childhood…”

The 2005 researchers, instead, concluded that Tutankhamun died from a massive fracture to his left femur.


Tut's legs, side by side, in an enhanced CT image. The view is roughly centered on the knees. The arrow points to the fracture, which moves from that spot down to the right.

This fracture had been noted before, but had been dismissed by earlier researchers as having occurred after death – either during embalming or during excavation in the 20th century. The CT study, however, indicated that it occurred very shortly (no more than several days) before death and had become infected with gangrene, almost certainly leading to Tut’s demise. Speculation is that the young king may have been thrown from a horse or injured in a chariot accident. Falling from a great height could also have caused the same injury, but such a fall would almost certainly have broken the pelvis as well, and Tutankhamun’s pelvis was intact.

While ruling out murder by blunt force trauma to the head, and concluding that Tut likely died from a leg fracture, the team admitted that their examination could not evaluate other possible murder scenarios, such as poisoning.

Other interesting information was gained from this CT examination. Of note is that Tutankhamun had an overbite, which was a trademark of many of his royal ancestors and provides a genetic link between Tutankhamun and his predecessors. Additionally, the teenage Tut also had an impacted wisdom tooth, which may have caused him discomfort. Finally, it was found that Tutankhamun had a slightly cleft palate and an elongated skull.


Enhanced CT images of Tut's head (bottom). Note the elongation, depicting a dolichocephalic skull

This is significant not just for historical purposes, but also because it connects him to an unidentified mummy found in another tomb in the Valley of the Kings – a tomb called KV55.

TOMB KV55

KV55 was discovered in 1907, about fifteen years before the discovery of Tut’s tomb. The artifacts found in KV55 indicate a connection with Tut’s 18th dynasty, and it is commonly believed that the tomb was built to hold the mummy of Queen Tiye, the wife of Amenhotep III and mother of Akhenaten (if it is true, as discussed in the first installment, that Akhenaten was Tutankhamun’s father, then Tiye would have been Tut’s paternal grandmother).


Queen Tiye, wife of Amenhotep III, and probable grandmother of Tut

The sealed door of the tomb actually had Tutankhamun’s name on it, causing its earliest excavators to believe they had found the boy king’s tomb. The mummy found inside KV55 was male, leading many to suggest that the body was that of Queen Tiye’s son, Akhenaten, whose mummy has otherwise never been found. The theory is that Akhenaten’s body was moved, from its tomb in the city of Akhetaten to his mother’s tomb in the Valley of the Kings, for protection long after his death. What happened to Tiye’s mummy is a mystery.

Curiously, this mummy also had a cleft palate and an elongated skull, like Tut. Surviving art of Akhenaten and his family routinely depicts them with very long, almost distorted, heads. It is assumed that these stylized images are simply exaggerations of a known familial trait. If that is true, then this is simply more evidence that the unknown mummy from KV55 is, indeed, Akhenaten, and that Akhenaten was, in fact, Tutankhamun’s father. Of course, the wrench in all this is that a lot of evidence (though not all) suggests that the mummy in KV55 was only about 20 years old – far too young to be Akhenaten, but perhaps just about right to have been his brother and direct successor, Smenkhkara – Tut’s uncle. So the mystery simply deepens. In the end, it is all speculation. What can be certain is that the mummy in KV55 is genetically related to Tutankhamun and his predecessors, and may, itself, be pharonic.

Tutankhamun clearly lived during a time of great social and religious upheaval. The reign of his predecessor, Akhenaten, and the effects that Akhenaten’s religious revolution had on Egyptian society, were certain to reverberate down through the ages, much as modern British people still remember the treachery of Oliver Cromwell and the failed British Commonwealth. While Tut’s own reign was apparently inconsequential, the circumstances of his ascendancy, and the circumstances of his demise, were clearly significant events in Egyptian society. Yet, it is a fact that King Tut was lost to history. By the time Egyptology began to emerge as a valid post-Enlightenment science in the 19th century, knowledge of Tut’s existence had been lost. His tomb, his monuments, his statues, his pictures, even his name, were all absent from the historical record. We now know that even the ancient Egyptians, in centuries after his death, had forgotten his existence.

To understand why, we must next turn to the reign of Horemheb, Tut’s principle military advisor, and the man who took the throne after Ay’s short kingship.


* My “criticism” of Brier in this essay should not be taken as a general criticism of Brier as an Egyptologist. In fact, I have great respect for Brier’s work (he is known in some circles as “Mr. Mummy”), particularly in his role as a “champion” for Ancient Egypt, helping to bring the study of Egyptology to “the masses,” so that even amateur enthusiasts like me can study and learn about this fascinating culture.

Bastille Day

Celebrated each year on July 14th, Bastille Day commemorates the day in 1789 when the Bastille prison was stormed by insurgents, sparking the French Revolution. Bastille Day is for the French what Independence Day is for Americans.

France was a tinderbox in the summer of 1789. The cost of supporting the colonies in the American Revolution had drained the government of money, and heavy taxation of the bourgeoisie had raised the ire of many French people. In response to this, the Third Estate – the group who represented the bourgeoisie in government – reformed itself into the National Constituent Assembly, promising to form a constitutional government. This was naturally opposed by the powerful First and Second Estates – those groups which represented the nobility and clergy, and constituted only 3% of France’s total population. The sheer strength in numbers of the National Assembly, however, forced the First and Second Estates, as well as the king, to capitulate, and its authority was finally recognized.

The National Assembly spent the summer of 1789 rousing support among the populace. Paris, in particular, was feverish with the revolutionary spirit. The French had seen the success of the colonists in America against their monarchical oppressors; the French felt that they, too, could bring down their tyrannical overlords.

On July 11th, Louis XVI made what would prove to be a fatal mistake when he gave into the suggestions of his council and reorganized his cabinet. Among those who were ousted was the finance minister Jacques Necker, who had been particularly sympathetic to the cause of the National Constituent Assembly. This move outraged average Frenchmen and women; they saw it as a decisive step by the royalists toward putting down the growing liberation movement. Their fears were further encouraged by the arrival of royal troops in Paris, where the National Assembly was meeting. Groups of armed Frenchmen began forming, roused to action by various spirited leaders and bourgeois revolutionaries, often bearing busts of Necker as they called the people to arms. Over the next few days, skirmishes and riots broke out, and Paris began to descend into anarchy.

By the 14th, the revolutionaries had gathered some 30,000 weapons, but had very little ammunition or gunpowder. They knew, however, that munitions were being stored in the Bastille prison – that ancient symbol of royal tyranny and oppression.

Constructed during the Hundred Years’ War in the 14th century, the Bastille was already 400 years old by the time of the French Revolution. Dark and imposing, with eight towers and 80-foot walls, it was built entirely of stone blocks, more a fortified castle than a prison. In fact, it had initially been just that – a military stronghold to defend Paris. Not until the reign of Louis XIII in the early 17th century did the Bastille become a state prison.

Though the prison was large, its general inmate population was small – less than 50 prisoners at any one time. In July of 1789, only seven prisoners were being held there – four convicted of forgery, two listed as “lunatics,” and one man imprisoned for writing pornography. What mattered to the revolutionaries, however, was not so much the prisoners inside the Bastille, but the ammunition and gunpowder stored there. Furthermore, as a symbol of old France and the monarchy, the Bastille was an obvious target for rioters enraged at the transgressions of the king.

Sometime around mid-morning on July 14th, about 600 rioters began surrounding the prison, demanding its complete surrender, including its inmates and military stores. Despite its bulk, the Bastille was only guarded by about 120 soldiers. These troops were led by a French commander named Bernard-Rene de Launay. De Launay began negotiations with spokesmen for the rioters, but his attempts to make terms with them were refused.

In the early afternoon, the crowd outside, growing hot and restless with the passing hours, began attacking the closed drawbridge, cutting its chains and storming into the inner courtyard. Many of the rioters were armed, and a 3-hour gun battle ensued, with a number of the attackers being killed. The rioters, however, were reinforced by deserting French soldiers who brought cannons with them. By 5:30 that afternoon, De Launay, realizing there was no hope of holding out, surrendered the fortress to the rioters, and the Bastille fell into the hands of the revolution. Despite surrendering completely, De Launay and several of his officers were beaten, killed, and beheaded, and their heads paraded through the streets of Paris.

Within a matter of months, the Bastille was completely dismantled, Louis XVI was ousted from his opulent palace at Versailles, and the revolution – which would last for a decade – was well underway.

On the 100th anniversary of the storming of the Bastille, great celebrations were held in Paris, commemorated in a famous painting by Claude Monet. Within two years, in 1880, the day was selected as the French National Holiday, and it has been celebrated in France ever since, most notably with a massive parade along the Champs Elysees and an evening of fireworks.

The Life, Death, and Modern Discovery of Pharaoh Tutankhamun, Part I

INTRODUCTION

Tutankhamun (“toot-onk-ah’moon”) – more widely known as “King Tut” – ruled during Egypt’s turbulent 18th dynasty, dying around 1325 B.C.E. He was, in fact, one of the most insignificant kings in all of ancient Egyptian history. This, of course, is highly ironic, considering that Tutankhamun has become, for modern folks, the most famous of all the kings of ancient Egypt. We have Howard Carter’s astonishing and quite accidental discovery of Tut’s tomb in 1922 to thank for this.



This story will be told in a series of four installments, the first covering Tut’s life and lineage, the second discussing Tut’s death and its implications, the third covering the history of how Tut’s existence was lost from historical knowledge, and the fourth detailing the discovery of his identity, and ultimately his tomb, in the early 20th century.

In an attempt to make the confusing names a bit easier to follow, here is a “cast of characters” appearing in this real-life drama (the pharaohs are listed in the order in which they ruled):

Pharaoh Amenhotep III
Pharaoh Akhenaten
Queen Nefertiti, principle wife of Akhenaten
Queen Kiya, secondary wife of Akhenaten
Meritaten, oldest daughter of Akhenaten and Nefertiti
Queen Ankhesenamun, third daughter of Akhenaten and Nefertiti, wife of King Tut
Pharaoh Smenkhkara
Pharaoh Neferneferuaten
Pharaoh Tutankhamun
Hittite Prince Zannanza
Pharaoh Ay
Pharaoh Horemheb

THE FACTS OF TUTANKHAMUN’S LIFE

Tut’s life – like the lives of most ancient Egyptian figures – is more mystery than established fact. Egyptologists know he became pharaoh as a child, was married to a royal princess named Ankhesenamun, and died at roughly 18 years of age.


Tut and his wife, as depicted on Tut's throne

It is also known that Tutankhamun was preceded on the throne by the infamous Akhenaten, the great heretic king who rejected all of Egypt’s traditional gods, and instituted a sort of early monotheism, worshipping only the sun disc god, the Aten.


Akhenaten worshipping the sun disk god

As part of this religious revolution, Akhenaten moved Egypt’s capital city from Thebes to a place called Akhetaten. Akhetaten was the heretic king’s own creation, built in the desert as a sort of ancient Mecca or Jerusalem – a holy city dedicated to the Aten.


The ruins of Akhetaten

As can be imagined, Akhenaten’s actions constituted an enormous upheaval in Egyptian customs and way of life. The powerful priesthood was rendered irrelevant, and it became illegal to worship any god but the Aten. It was, indeed, a period of great religious persecution.

Tutankhamun appears to have grown up in the North Palace of Akhetaten, part of the royal household (just how he was related will be discussed later).


Ruins of the North Palace at Akhetaten

However, when Tut came to the throne at about age 9, he did away with his predecessor’s religious upheavals and reinstituted the old pantheon of gods. As part of this reversion back to traditional Egyptian religion, Tutankhamun moved the capital back to Thebes and began a campaign to build new temples to the old gods. His birth name had actually been “Tutankhaten” – a reference to the monotheistic sun disc god – but Tut changed his name in Year 2 of his reign, replacing “aten” with “amun.” Amun was the principle god of the traditional pantheon. The same was true of his wife, Ankhesenamun, whose birth name had ended with “aten” instead of “amun.” It was a move by the royal couple to show that they were not in line with the religion of the heretic king who preceded them. Unfortunately, as will be seen in a later installment, Tutankhamun would ultimately pay part of the penalty for his predecessor’s sins.

It is important to note that because Tutankhamun was so young when he came to the throne, his principle advisors would have been functionally running the kingdom for him, and making all the decisions. Thus, most every “official” transaction during his kingship was performed by others. It has been suggested that Tut himself may have had very little say in reinstituting the old religious traditions. Instead, these political moves would have been orchestrated by those acting in his name. The two major players in this situation were Ay and Horemheb – the former being the equivalent of a prime minister, and the latter being a prominent military leader. Both had also served in the court of Akhenaten, and both had their eye on the kingship, as we shall see.

Although Tutankhamun is depicted in art wearing the khepresh – the traditional blue war crown of the pharaohs – there is not much evidence that Tut ever actually fought in a military campaign.


Statue of Tut wearing the Blue War Crown

He is depicted in art hunting lions and other dangerous animals, and there is at least one scene depicting him in battle with Syrians and Nubians (the Syrians coming from modern day Palestine and the Nubians from modern day Ethiopia).


Tut in battle against the Syrians

These battles with Syria and Nubia are corroborated by similar battle scenes in the tomb of Tut’s general, the aforementioned Horemheb. However, most historians do not believe Tut himself would have taken part in these campaigns, because of his age.

After a relatively uneventful reign of about ten years, Tutankhamun died suddenly, of uncertain causes, and was buried hastily in a small tomb in the Valley of the Kings – a tomb that was most likely originally intended for someone else.

SPECULATION ON LINEAGE

Many historians believe that Tutankhamun was the son of Akhenaten, by one of that king’s secondary wives, Queen Kiya.


Queen Kiya, possibly Tut's mother

This, however, is not certain. It is possible that Tut was a half-brother or nephew of Akhenaten. What we do know is that Akhenaten was the son of the pharaoh Amenhotep III, had six daughters – one of whom would later become the wife of King Tut – and was succeeded directly by two shadowy pharaohs named Smenkhkara and Neferneferuaten. The origins and identities of these two pharaohs are unclear, however they seem to have been co-regents, and only reigned for a few years before Tut took over. Speculation about the specifics of these two rulers is widespread and remarkably divergent (there are even disagreements about whether they were male or female), so it is best to simply assert that we know very little about them, where they came from, or what they did. That they were genetically related to Akhenaten and Tutankhamun is about the only thing most historians agree on.

Based on what I have read, the following is a likely (although certainly not final) scenario: Amenhotep III had two surviving sons, the elder being Akhenaten, and the younger being Smenkhkara. Upon Amenhotep’s death, Akhenaten took over, did away with the traditional gods, and forced everyone into monotheism. He is known to have had six daughters with his principle wife, Nefertiti. Of these six, Meritaten is the oldest and most prominent. One of Akhenaten’s secondary wives, Kiya, however, bore him a son – the future King Tut. Because succession was not always clear or well-established in ancient Egypt – the way it is in most monarchies today – there was some question as to whether Tut was the rightful heir to Akhenaten’s throne, since he was a son only by a secondary wife. Akhenaten’s brother, Smenkhkara, was the principle leader of this “anti-Tut” contingency. Since Tutankhamun was only a toddler at the time, Smenkhkara more or less pronounced himself pharaoh and took over the reigns of leadership. To legitimize his position, he married his niece Meritaten, Akhenaten’s oldest and most prominent child. As a result, their reign became a sort of co-regency, with Meritaten taking the throne name Neferneferuaten. Their reign, however, lasted only two or three years, cut short either by the natural deaths of both, or by a coup led by supporters of Tutankhamun. Whatever the reason, after their deaths, the path for Tut’s kingship was unimpeded, and he became the 12th pharaoh of Egypt’s 18th dynasty.

It should be quite clear by now just how many theories there are, and how little we can really know for certain when it comes to King Tut’s lineage. It all becomes a big jumble of strange names and incestuous marriages (for instance, some evidence suggests Tut’s wife, Ankhesenamun, was first married to her own father, Akhenaten, and bore him a child). What can be said for certain is that Tutankhamun was related somehow to Akhenaten and no doubt to Smenkhkara, and that Tutankhamun’s wife was the third daughter of Akhenaten, and probably Tutankhamun’s own half-sister.

The story of Tutankhamun’s death and the intrigue that surrounded it – both in how Tut died, and in what happened, politically, after his death – is perhaps even more captivating than the story of his life. These issues will be discussed in the next installment.

A Brief Response to R. Douglas Geivett's Article: "The Epistemology of Resurrection Belief"

R. Douglas Geivett is, by all accounts, a respected philosophy professor at Biola University in California, and his body of work, among other things, covers the philosophy of religion and epistemology. Epistemology, in lay terms, is the study of the foundation, nature, and validity of human knowledge. Applied to religion, epistemology studies what we can know about God and the stories of the Bible, and how our knowledge of the world impacts our religious views. Geivett is, by his own assertion, a Christian and a theist in the classical sense of those terms. In regards to the resurrection, he states: “As I see it, the best causal explanation for a bodily resurrection is a miracle – an act of God.”

In the book “The Resurrection of Jesus: John Dominic Crossan and N.T. Wright in Dialogue,” edited by Robert B. Stewart and including not only a dialogue between the two historians in the title, but also a series of essays by various religious scholars, Geivett presents an article discussing the epistemology of beliefs about the resurrection. In this article, Geivett discusses the merits of Wright and Crossan’s individual methods and conclusions, and makes the argument that while Wright appears to approach his scholarship with a “worldview neutral” approach, Crossan’s approach is somewhat biased by his own beliefs – that is, Crossan’s work is not entirely “metaphysically neutral.”

To put this in perspective, we must first take a very brief look at who Wright and Crossan are, and what Geivett means by “metaphysically neutral.”

N.T. Wright is the current Bishop of Durham in the Anglican Church, and is a very well-respected and noted New Testament scholar. He is also, as might be imagined considering his professional position, a classical theist.

In regards to the resurrection, Wright believes that the best conclusion to draw from the available historical evidence is that Jesus really was resurrected bodily from the dead. No other conclusion can best explain the available evidence. As Geivett points out, however, Wright resists the urge to attribute this resurrection necessarily to God – even though Wright, as a theist, no doubt believes God was responsible. In Geivett’s opinion, Wright refrains from attributing the resurrection to God because the answer to the question of how Jesus came to be resurrected requires adherence to a specific worldview – in this case, classical theism. Obviously, if one believes in God, then the clear assumption would be that God was responsible for Jesus’ resurrection. But since, in Geivett’s opinion, Wright’s resurrection scholarship strives for “worldview neutrality” (that is, he attempts to keep his own theistic beliefs out of his professional scholarship), Wright does not ever make this “God raised Jesus bodily” assertion directly, and instead ends his arguments at what can be known from the objective evidence at our disposal. Thus, he believes the evidence suggests Jesus was raised physically from the dead, but does not openly assert that God was necessarily responsible for it, because the objective historical evidence, by itself, cannot support this otherwise subjective assertion.

John Dominic Crossan, like N.T. Wright, is a very well-respected New Testament scholar who has published dozens of books and articles, and is an Emeritus Professor of Religious Studies at DePaul University, having spent most of his professional career there. Unlike Wright, Crossan is not a classical theist, and is probably better described as a “progressive non-theist Christian” – that is, he considers himself a Christian in that he follows and attempts to emulate the life of Christ, but does not believe in a theistic god, or in the divinity of Jesus.

Crossan’s conclusions about the resurrection follow a groundbreaking method of using not only canonical and non-canonical textual evidence, but also the evidence of 1st century secular history, anthropology, archaeology, geography, and human psychology. In other words, Crossan’s method employs contextual background as well as textual evidence. Using these methods, Crossan asserts that the resurrection was naturalistic in origin, resulting from the firm conviction of the earliest Christians that they had experienced the resurrected Jesus. Crossan believes these early Christians experienced apparitions, or visions, of Jesus similar to visions of dead friends and relatives that many people, even in modern times, experience. These early Christians interpreted these apparitions the only way that a 1st century person could interpret them – as literal appearances by a resurrected Jesus. In other words, they did not have post-Enlightenment understandings of the world to help them see that these were just manifestations of their grieving minds. An empty tomb may also have contributed to their mistaken interpretation (although Crossan only “concedes” an empty tomb for the sake of argument – his own belief is that Jesus was not likely buried in a tomb).

In Geivett’s opinion, however, Crossan’s methodology is not worldview neutral (that is, his method is biased), because Crossan himself is not a theist. For Geivett, it stands to reason that Crossan, as a non-theist, would ultimately conclude non-theistic origins for the resurrection of Jesus. He states this quite explicitly in his article:

No wonder Crossan disagrees with Wright about the nature of the resurrection. No wonder he concludes that Jesus did not literally rise bodily from the dead. For what is denied by his metaphysical commitments precludes the possibility of a literal bodily resurrection of Jesus by God…[Crossan’s] verdict as a New Testament historian does not [diverge] from his worldview commitments at all. It is not metaphysically neutral.

There are two problems that I have with Geivett’s criticism of Crossan (although, in his defense, Geivett claims that his assertions are “by no means a criticism of Crossan’s methods,” since historians have no choice but to sometimes allow their own beliefs to “inform their historical judgment” when the evidence has gaps).

My first issue should already be obvious to anyone who has been following my train of thought in this essay. How is it that Crossan, as a non-theist, is biased in his non-theistic interpretations of the resurrection, but Wright, as a theist, is somehow not biased in his theistic interpretations of the resurrection? It would seem that Geivett is applying a double standard to Crossan – which may stand to reason since Geivett, as a classical theist, naturally disagrees with Crossan’s conclusions. Geivett attempts to reconcile this problem by the argument I illustrated above in regards to Wright’s resurrection theology: Wright, despite being a theist, does not go so far as to assert that God must have been responsible for raising Jesus bodily from the dead. In the name of neutrality, Wright leaves such an assertion – which requires subjective belief rather than objective evidence – out of his conclusion. Regardless of that (because it is beside the point, in my opinion), I am by no means convinced that the “best” explanation of the available data is that Jesus was physically and literally raised from the dead (which is what Wright concludes). Therefore, I would argue with Geivett that Wright’s conclusion is, in fact, informed by his own theistic beliefs, inasmuch as Crossan’s conclusion is informed by his own non-theistic beliefs.

The problem here, in addition to being an apparent double standard on the part of Geivett, is that Geivett’s entire argument is philosophical in nature, and therefore is not grounded in reasonable reality. If Crossan’s conclusions are biased by his non-theistic beliefs, then the same argument could be made to suggest that non-goblinists are biased when they conclude there are no goblins in their garden. Is there such a thing as a theistic Christian who denies the divine aspects of the resurrection, or a non-theist who affirms the divine aspects of the resurrection? I certainly do not know of any, because such positions would be contradictory by their very nature. Even Geivett seems to agree with this when he says, “But what else could explain the phenomenon of a bodily resurrection [other than God]? I can’t think of a single other plausible explanation.” Then later, “Suppose you don’t believe in God. What’s the likelihood that you would…conclude that Jesus had risen bodily…? I’d say not likely at all.”

My second issue with Geivett’s criticism of Crossan’s method is that he seems to be putting the cart before the horse, or, to use another silly metaphor, placing the chicken before the egg. Geivett seems to assume that Crossan is, and always has been, a non-theist, and that his conclusions, therefore, are biased by those non-theistic worldviews. This might be a reasonable argument, if it were true that Crossan had always been a non-theist. I do not claim to know every detail of Crossan’s personal spiritual journey, but I do know that it is very common within religious scholarship for scholars to enter the field as traditionally-believing Christians, and to end up becoming, after looking at the evidence neutrally, non-theists, agnostics, or progressive Christians. I have made the argument before that this sort of biblical scholar – the kind that starts off as a traditional believer, follows the evidence where it leads, and ends up rejecting traditional belief – is by definition the most “unbiased” type of scholar. Of course, the reverse would also be true – a scholar who starts off as an agnostic or non-theist, follows the evidence where it leads, and then becomes a traditional believer, would also be “unbiased.” However, I do not personally know of a single religious scholar that this path applies to.

In regards to Crossan, I do know that he began his career as a theologian – a priest in the Anglican Church. He later left the priesthood and began developing his aforementioned non-theistic conclusions about the nature of Jesus and God. This would imply, then, that Crossan began his career as a classical theist, ended up rejecting this position after careful, unbiased study, and became the non-theist progressive that he is today. If this is true – and I think it is – then Geivett’s assertion that Crossan’s methods are biased by his non-theism is completely without merit. Crossan’s methods were and are unbiased, which is why he ended up rejecting the traditional beliefs of his younger years, and now accepts a more naturalistic explanation for the resurrection.

I agree with Geivett when he says that we should “take care to recognize, as far as possible, the real limits of our knowledge and understanding.” I also agree with him when he acknowledges that any historian must sometimes apply personal worldviews when evaluating historical data. What this means, in the end, is that no historical conclusion – especially in the field of New Testament scholarship – is ever completely without personal bias. We all bring our own beliefs and ideas to the table when we begin to study the available evidence for the stories of Jesus. Recognizing this inherent human non-neutrality is, I believe, one of the most important steps in opening the door to meaningful and mutually valuable dialogue in the field of religion.

Logic Fallacies and Biblical Scholarship

In a recent essay, I introduced the Straw Man argument, which is a type of logic fallacy involving the misrepresentation of an opponent’s position, and the subsequent attack of that misrepresented caricature.

Another type of logic fallacy is the Ad Hominem fallacy, which involves an attempt to discredit the person making an argument, rather than discrediting the argument itself. “Ad hominem” is a Latin phrase meaning “against the person.”

Ad Hominem arguments have many incarnations, and I frequently get a version of this fallacy when discussing issues related to biblical scholarship and traditional Christian beliefs. It typically happens when I write an essay discussing particulars of the Gospel stories, and it usually goes something like this: “You don’t even believe the stories in the Gospels are literal history, so how can you quote from those stories to make your point?” This is a version of the Ad Hominem fallacy because it ignores the salient points of whatever argument I am making, and instead attempts to refute my arguments by suggesting that I, as a non-literalist, am not at liberty to quote Biblical texts to support an assertion, and any such assertions I make must, by necessity, be rejected. As I mentioned above, I have been confronted with this argument many times, by both Christian friends and strangers.

I recently posted an essay on my blog, and a shortened version on an internet religion forum, about the “sinless” nature of Jesus. In the essay, I questioned whether Jesus really lived a sinless life, as is often asserted within traditional Christianity. I illustrated seven areas in the Gospels were it appears that Jesus engaged in what any modern Christian would consider sinful behavior, including one passage where Jesus quite openly and quite explicitly lies to his disciples. My overall thesis was to demonstrate how a literal reading of the Gospels creates enormous spiritual and intellectual puzzles, and how one cannot simultaneously believe in the sin-free nature of Jesus, and also read the Gospel stories literally.

More simply, here is the crux of the problem that my essay was attempting to address:

Assertion A: All humans are inherently sinful by nature because of the Fall of Adam and Eve.

Assertion B: Humans cannot help but sin because it is part of their imperfect nature. They have no hope of being “good” without God.

Assertion C: Jesus was fully God, but was also fully human, subject to the same temptations and frailties that humans are subject to.

Assertion D: Jesus did not sin.

If A, B, and C are all true, then D cannot also be true. If D is true, then either A and B are false, and/or C is false. That was the point of my essay, and I used passages from the Gospel accounts to illustrate this.

I feared that the old Ad Hominem argument might be employed by some of my readers, so I attempted from the very start to fend them off by stating in one of the opening paragraphs: “Since most people who believe Jesus was sinless also read and interpret the Bible’s stories literally, I will be approaching this subject from a direct and literal reading of the stories. In other words, for the purposes of this essay, I will be assuming that all the Gospel stories attributed to Jesus represent literal historical actions by Jesus.”

Unfortunately, this was apparently not enough.

One of my “internet” friends, a Calvinist who is a reader of my blog and is also a member on the religion forum where I debate, made the following comment: “If you deny the veracity of scripture, why should anyone take you serious when you quote certain portions of it as true? It seems we have to accept certain propositions that [Scott] tells us are true and reject the ones [Scott] tells us aren’t true.” Although we have polar opposite views on all things religious, I have a great respect for this person’s intellect, attitude, and expressive abilities. However, I was disappointed by this comment, because it is so obviously a fallacious line of reasoning.

A critic does not have to believe in the historicity of a story in order to evaluate its content. Traditionalists assert the Gospels give historically accurate accounts. They also assert that Jesus was sinless. By their own standards, these two propositions cannot be true. That was the spirit of my argument in the essay in question. What I believe personally is completely irrelevant.

In order to refute the Ad Hominem argument of my friend, I came up with an analogy to demonstrate the irrationality of such an argument. The analogy goes like this:

Bill Jones writes a series of books called The Smith Chronicles starring a man named Joe Smith and his relative, Tom Smith. In the first book, Joe Smith lives in an old Victorian mansion on a large estate. In one scene, there is a horrendous forest fire nearby, which sparks trees in Joe’s yard, which in turn set his own house on fire. The house burns to ashes and Joe is forced to move in with his cousin, Tom. In the second book, Joe Smith lives a long and glorious life, and his whole life is spent in a beautiful Victorian mansion. After his death, the mansion is handed down to his own son, Tom, and Tom Smith raises his family there in the decades after Joe’s death.

Now, there are some people who think The Smith Chronicles are real history. They do not realize they are reading novels. They come up with creative ways to reconcile the problems between the stories. Most notably, they suggest that in the second story, the implication is that Joe Smith must have eventually rebuilt the mansion. The first story simply leaves this part out. As for the contradiction between “son” and “cousin,” these are just words that imply that Tom Smith was a relative of Joe. Or, barring that, the Tom Smith of the second book just happens to have the same name as Joe’s cousin, who stars in the first book.

Other people, however, recognize that the literalists are missing the whole point. Why try to reconcile these issues? They are just novels, meant for entertainment. Bill Jones was not trying to write literal accounts of real events.

On an internet religion forum, a skeptic decides to give the literalists some food for thought.

Skeptic: “Reading those stories literally misses the entire point and causes all sorts of intellectual conundrums. In story one, Joe’s trees catch fire, and his house burns down and he moves in with his cousin, Tom. The story tells us this happened. But in story two, Joe lives in the same house the whole time, there is no fire, and he later passes it down to his son (not his cousin), Tom. Obviously something is wrong here. Reading these stories literally causes all sorts of factual issues, which forces literalists to come up with convoluted and creative ways to reconcile them. Only when one realizes that theses stories are fiction, written for the purpose of entertainment, does one come to finally understand the deeper meaning.”

In this analogy, the skeptic does not believe the stories are literally true, but to make his point, he has to assume a literal reading of the stories, to show why they are nonsense if you read them as literal historical fact. His point, then, is to suggest that there is a better way to understand them.

However, the skeptic gets a response to his efforts.

Literalist: “Oh, well, you don’t even believe the stories are true, yet you’re trying to make a point by assuming they are true. You can’t just pick and choose. Either you accept it or you don’t. But if you don’t accept it, then don’t make arguments where you are quoting words from the stories to make your point.”

Do you see how this analogy is pertinent to the Ad Hominem argument of my opponents who suggest I do not have a right to quote from Jesus’ teachings in making a point? My own personal beliefs are irrelevant. All that matters is that the traditionalist – to whom my essay is directed – does believe the words are literal. If the words are literal, then Jesus cannot have been without sin. That is the point.

This analogy, I believe, also illustrates the lengths to which literalists will go to reconcile textual issues. Just as the “Smith literalists” attempted to sweep the contradictions between the two books together into a nice, tidy package, so Bible literalists will frequently argue that textual contradictions are not contradictions at all, but are simply “different facts” focused on by different authors. Thus, when Matthew tells us magi visited baby Jesus in a home in Bethlehem, and Luke tells us shepherds visited baby Jesus in a stable in Bethlehem, these are not contradictions, but rather different emphases by the authors: Matthew emphasized the weeks and months after Jesus’ birth, and Luke emphasized the night of Jesus’ birth. This, of course, is irrelevant to the point at hand.

I would like to think that this essay will finally put to rest the Ad Hominem fallacies against my arguments when I quote scripture to make a point. However, I recognize that these sorts of logic fallacies are common, and it is always easier to attack the person giving a sound argument than to attack the argument itself (this is also what leads to the Straw Man fallacy – a caricature of a person’s position is easier to attack than the position itself).

Fifteen Fourth of July Facts

The 4th of July is America’s Independence Day. Celebrated as such since the 1770’s, it is the day Americans celebrate their freedom from the rule of Great Britain. The date commemorates the adoption by Congress of Thomas Jefferson’s Declaration of Independence. True independence from Great Britain, of course, would not come until the end of the Revolutionary War in the 1780’s.

There are a number of interesting facts about the 4th of July, aside from its obvious importance as America’s national holiday. Consider the following:

1) Despite being “unofficially” celebrated almost since the beginning, the 4th of July was not officially made America’s national holiday until the 1940’s.

2) Declaration of Independence signer Benjamin Harrison was the father and great-grandfather of presidents William Henry Harrison and Benjamin Harrison.

3) Although “Uncle Sam” came to be associated with the U.S. government, and specifically the 4th of July, as early as the 1810’s, Uncle Sam did not become America’s national symbol until the 1960’s.

4) There is no legitimate evidence to suggest that Betsy Ross actually sewed the first American flag.

5) “America the Beautiful” was composed on the 4th of July in 1895 by a college professor named Katharine Lee.

6) July 2, 1776, was actually the day that independence was declared from Great Britain, as part of a resolution passed by Congress on that day. On that day, John Adams declared that July 2nd would go down in history as America’s day of independence.

7) Only John Hancock, who was President of the Congress, signed the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776. The others did not sign until the following month.

8) 56 men signed the Declaration of Independence, representing leaders from all 13 colonies. Pennsylvania had the most representatives with 10; Rhode Island had the fewest, with only 2.

9) Six men named William signed the Declaration of Independence; there were also six Johns, six Thomases, and six Georges. Other first names of signers included Lyman, Button, and Caesar.

10) “The Star Spangled Banner” is set to a tune that was originally a British drinking song, sung in pubs throughout England.

11) A committee selected the eagle as the national bird of the United States. Benjamin Franklin served on this committee (along with John Adams and Thomas Jefferson) and is notable because he argued fiercely for the national bird to be the turkey.

12) On July 4, 1054 – some 700 years before the Declaration of Independence – Chinese and Arab astronomers recorded the explosion of a bright supernova in the sky, which continued to be visible for several months.

13) The United States Military Academy at West Point opened its doors on July 4, 1802.

14) Folk writer Stephen Foster, famous for his songs of Americana, was born on the Fourth of July, 1826.

15) Two signers of the Declaration of Independence later became president: Thomas Jefferson and John Adams. Strangely enough, both these statesmen died on July 4, 1826, within hours of each other (this was the same day Stephen Foster was born). 1826 was also the 50th anniversary of the document’s adoption, and thus a major historical milestone. A third president, James Monroe (who was not a signer of the Declaration of Independence) also died on July 4th, in 1831.

Cincinnati Rush Concert Review

As a devoted fan of the band Rush, I attended their Cincinnati show on Monday, June 30, 2008. This tour is the second leg of their Snakes & Arrows tour, begun last year in support of their 2007 album by the same name.

The show took place at Riverbend Music Center, an outdoor pavilion that is generally the site of any major act that plays Cincinnati. Its name is derived from its geographic location: it literally sits in a sharp bend of the Ohio River, in the spot where the river bends northward toward downtown Cincinnati. When watching a show there, you can see the river a hundred yards or so behind the pavilion.

After 34 years together without a personnel change, Rush is at the height of their virtuosic powers. Known primarily for each members’ extraordinary instrumental ability, Rush’s music is intricate, tightly woven, and emotionally powerful. The band consists of three members: Geddy Lee on bass, keyboards, synthesizers, and lead vocals; Alex Lifeson on guitar, synthesizers, and backing vocals; and Neil Peart on drums and percussion (Peart is also the band's primary lyricist). Perhaps the most impressive facet of seeing Rush play live is the fact that only three people are able to create such full, textured music. While it is true that some of the musical layers and effects are programmed sounds triggered with pedals or keys, it is significant that no one off-stage is ever triggering these effects: every musical note emitted from the speakers is either played or triggered by one of the three band members. Lee is perhaps the most proficient at this: it is not uncommon to see him playing a virtuosic bass riff, singing the lyrics, and triggering keyboard or synthesizer background sounds with his feet – all at the same time. He often gets stuck out in the middle of the stage during an interlude playing his bass, and has to run back to his console on stage left to trigger a sound or sing a lyric.

This show was my sixth since discovering Rush in about 2001. My seat was not good; I was seated in the 45th row, on the far right side of the pavilion. I was only a few yards in front of the first row of people on the lawn.

The show opened with an amusing video montage with all three band members, including a scene where Alex Lifeson awakes from a nightmare about snakes to discover Neil Peart in his bed, and a scene with Geddy Lee dressed as a Scotsman, complete with red tartan kilt and tam o’shanter.

Opening with a rocking rendition of the crowd-pleasing 1980 hit “Limelight,” the band seemed to be full of energy and enthusiasm – quite an accomplishment for three men in their late 50’s who have played nearly 100 shows, on three continents, in the last year. Following “Limelight” was a great version of 1982’s “Digital Man,” a sleeper song that frequently gets ignored on my play list, but which really comes to life in the slightly altered version played on this tour. Especially prominent is an extended “jam session” at the end that really gives the song a kick. Other first set songs included “Between the Wheels,” “Dreamline,” radio and fan favorites “Freewill” and “The Trees,” “Mission,” and several selections from 2007’s Snakes & Arrows album, including “The Larger Bowl” and “The Main Monkey Business.”

After a twenty minute intermission (Lee announced that the band needed to take a break because, basically, they were all a bunch of old men), the band opened the second set with a string of songs from Snakes & Arrows, including the crowd pleaser “Far Cry,” which contains an startlingly loud pyrotechnic display midway through, “Spindrift,” and “The Way the Wind Blows,” which features prominent blues-inspired riffing by Lifeson. Other songs included “Subdivisions,” “Witch Hunt,” “Natural Science,” and an acoustic guitar solo by Lifeson entitled “Hope.”

One of the highlights of any Rush concert is the drum solo by Neil Peart. Widely regarded as one of the very best drummers in rock n’ roll (diehard fans would say the best), Peart has won numerous drumming awards, including winning his second consecutive Drummer of the Year award this year from Drum! magazine. In 2004, Peart’s drum solo from 2002’s tour, featured on a 2003 live album, was nominated for a Grammy award for best instrumental (Peart, and Rush, lost to Brian Wilson).

Peart’s drum solo simply defies words. He sits on a stool surrounded by equipment on all sides – the 360-degree kit has a small opening at the rear to allow him to come and go. The set contains both acoustic and electronic drums, about a million cymbals – both acoustic and electronic – and an array of tuned cow bells, foot pedals, trigger pads, and an electronic marimba. When switching from acoustic to electronic drums, the entire set revolves on a pedestal, and Peart stands up and turns around to reposition himself. The solo ends with Peart accompanying the Count Basie song “Cotton Tail” – a fast-paced Big Band tune rife with brass.

The entire solo is adequately described as “jaw-dropping,” but perhaps the most impressive point comes when Peart “slows it down,” and plays a song on the electronic marimba while accompanying himself on drums. In this section of the solo, Peart plays the main beat (bass drum and snare) with foot pedals, while playing the marimba melody with his drumsticks, interspersed with complicated drum fills and cymbal crashes. The level of limb independence required to do this simply defies logic. Try to pat your head with one hand, rub your belly with the other, scratch the dirt with one toe, and draw a square in the dirt with the other toe – all at the same time – and you will get an idea of the level of ability it takes to pull off what Peart does in front of 10,000 fans every night.

The second set of the concert ended with Rush’s signature song and biggest hit “Tom Sawyer.” The song was introduced with a South Park video depicting the characters attempting to perform the song, with Cartman mistaking Tom Sawyer for Huckleberry Finn.

After exiting the stage for the customary few minutes, Rush returned for an encore, which featured a pyrotechnic display during “One Little Victory” and a deep-cut from 1976 called “A Passage to Bangkok.” The irony behind the performance of this song (popular with many fans because it is all about a trip around the world to find the best marijuana) is that during 2004’s tour, the concerts were introduced with a video clip featuring Jerry Stiller, who comments that he “hopes they play ‘Bangkok,’” but then, upon reflection, states, “Nah, they never play ‘Bangkok.’”

The final song of the encore was the popular “YYZ,” an instrumental from 1981’s multi-platinum album “Moving Pictures.”

All in all, Rush is still as great as ever. Their shows are energetic and visually-stimulating, and their virtuosity, if anything, has only increased over the last three decades. Lee’s voice does not have quite the power or control that it once had, but his ability to hit all those high notes, night after night, at his age, is a feat in and of itself.

Having discovered Rush late in their career, I always fear that each show I attend will be the last one I get to see. I definitely felt that way this year, as Rush has already indicated that they will likely take a very long “break” after this tour. They are already in their late 50’s – a long rest would mean they may not consider touring again until they are past 60. By that time, they may decide to just hang it up.

This fan, at least, hopes that is not the case.

The Straw Man Argument

The Straw Man Argument is a rhetorical fallacy that occurs when someone is presented with an argument on a topic, and responds by twisting, oversimplifying, or distorting the merits of the argument, and then attacking that misrepresented caricature.

An example of this fallacy might go as follows:

A homeowner has an enormous tree in his yard. He gets tired of cleaning up pinecones and dead leaves every autumn, so he cuts it down. His neighbors are incensed because the tree was old and beautiful, and was an important landmark that gave the street character. Furthermore, it provided shade for several yards in the area, and was also a habitat for many colorful birds and other small woodland creatures. The neighbors bring these issues to the attention of the homeowner, and the man responds by saying that birds and squirrels are not as important as human beings, and anyone too cheap to buy an awning or a gazebo to give their yard shade should refrain from accusing self-respecting folks of ecological terrorism.

The homeowner’s response is a classic straw man argument. He misrepresents the spirit of the neighbors’ issues, and instead attempts to make them look like misers who care more about animals than people. By painting them that way, they are easier to attack; thus, he has built a “straw man,” which is easier to knock down than a real person.

Perhaps one of the most famous straw man arguments was used by Richard Nixon in 1952 during the famous “Checkers” speech, given when Nixon was running for vice-president. Nixon had been pestered by critics over $18,000 in campaign contributions that he had allegedly misappropriated for personal use. In responding to these allegations, Nixon admitted that a supporter in Texas had heard that Nixon’s young daughters wanted a dog, so the supporter bought them a cocker spaniel, which they in turn named Checkers. Nixon concluded by asserting: “…regardless of what they [his critics] say about it, we are going to keep it.”

In an internet article (http://www.o4sr.org/publications/pf_v5n1/Fallacies.htm) Dave Clarke, of Eastern Oregon University, sums it up well: “…what does the dog have to do with the alleged misappropriation of $18,000 dollars of campaign funds? Nixon built a straw man. It was the money – not the dog – that was at issue!” Nixon oversimplified his critics’ complaints, and then responded to that oversimplified caricature, implying that his critics were just partisan bullies who wanted to take a dog away from two little girls. Arguments like these frequently work, but that does not mean they are not essentially unethical and dishonest.

Understanding the Straw Man Argument is important not only for academic debating, but also in every day discussions. Knowing what the fallacy entails, you may be more likely to notice it when someone “builds a straw man” against you in a debate or argument, and it can help you to put perspective on what the person is saying. But more importantly than looking for the straw man in others, watching for this tendency in yourself is vitally important. Whether you are discussing politics or religion, or just talking about whether one type of grass seed is better than another, be careful not to build straw men as you attempt to respond to what someone has said to you. Engaging in this exercise will not only make your rhetorical skills stronger, but will also make you a better listener, which is, of course, the fundamental key to effective communication in any relationship.