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Authors: Luis Miguel Rocha
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proclaims?’ He paused dramatically. ‘The nineteenth century initiated a feverish archaeological search for proof of the “facts” ’ – he sketched quotation marks in the air when he said this word – ‘narrated in the Bible. They excavated everywhere there was a site. Palestine, Egypt, Mesopotamia, a host of sites in the Near and Middle East. They wanted to find Solomon’s temple, the remains of Noah’s ark, anything to confirm the facts of the Bible. Paul Emile Botta, the French consul in Mosul, began the race, Austen Henry Layard, an English diplomat, was next, then another Englishman, also named Henry, embarked on the search.’
Rafael looked at him for the first time. He could do without the history lesson. He’d known this argument for years.
‘Do they pay you to teach this?’ he asked scornfully.
‘After decades of excavations, smiles, delusions, anxieties, what did they find?’ He left the question hanging in the air, ignoring Rafael’s remark. Jacopo made a circle with his thumb and finger. ‘Zero,’ he proclaimed triumphantly. ‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing?’ Rafael asked.
‘Absolutely nothing,’ Jacopo reiterated. ‘Nothing to confirm a single fact mentioned in the Old or New Testament. But they came to another conclusion: names of people and places appear in the Bible that the Greeks and Romans had never heard of. They’re mentioned only in the Bible, and nowhere else.’
‘On January 4, 2003, a block of limestone was discovered with inscriptions in ancient Phoenician of a detailed plan for the recovery of the first Jewish temple, Solomon’s,’ Rafael said. ‘It was found on the Temple Mount, in the old city of Jerusalem.’
‘The Haram al Sharif, as the Muslims call it,’ Jacopo added, visibly pleased with himself.
‘The fragment dated from the time of the biblical king Jehoash, who reigned more than twenty-five hundred years ago. If you’re so well versed in the Bible, then you must remember chapter twelve, verses four, five, and six, specifically, from the Second Book of Kings, where it’s related that Jehoash, king of Judah, ordered all the money from the Temple collected to use in its restoration.’
‘Allegedly,’ Jacopo offered with a smile. ‘They never let me see that discovery. Nor was there further information about it.’
‘In 1961,’ Rafael continued, ‘an excavation of an ancient amphitheatre, ordered built by Herod the Great in Caesarea in the year 30 B.C ., revealed a limestone block, accepted as authentic. A partial inscription was found on it.’
Jacopo and Rafael quoted at the same time:
DIS AUGUSTIS TIBERIEUM
PONTIUS PILATUS
PRAEFECTUS IUDAEAE
FECIT DEDICVIT.
Jacopo applauded, smiling. ‘Pilate’s stone. It proves only the existence of Tiberias and Pilate, which was never in doubt, and confirms that Pilate’s office was prefect, or governor, and not prosecutor,’ Jacopo argued. ‘Do you have more?’
‘It’s a work in progress. Don’t forget we’re talking about millennia of history on top of history. But you never know when something new might appear, and you better than anyone know that it’s a slow process.’
Jacopo lifted his arms and opened his hands. ‘Let the sophists return. They’re forgiven.’
A light rain fell on them as they left the terminal, wetting their faces and clinging to their clothes.
‘Shitty weather,’ Jacopo complained.
The police had sent a car to take them to the place where Zafer had been found by an addict who was using the private spot to get high. Instead he found an old man stretched out on the floor on his stomach, lifeless.
The warehouse was in the north of the city, far from the tourist traffic and glow that made Paris the City of Lights. A collection of projectors, powered by a generator that made a monumental noise, lit up the interior and exterior of the building. The cadaver had been picked up during the afternoon. A technician collected all the evidence that could reveal anything
Rafael looked at him for the first time. He could do without the history lesson. He’d known this argument for years.
‘Do they pay you to teach this?’ he asked scornfully.
‘After decades of excavations, smiles, delusions, anxieties, what did they find?’ He left the question hanging in the air, ignoring Rafael’s remark. Jacopo made a circle with his thumb and finger. ‘Zero,’ he proclaimed triumphantly. ‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing?’ Rafael asked.
‘Absolutely nothing,’ Jacopo reiterated. ‘Nothing to confirm a single fact mentioned in the Old or New Testament. But they came to another conclusion: names of people and places appear in the Bible that the Greeks and Romans had never heard of. They’re mentioned only in the Bible, and nowhere else.’
‘On January 4, 2003, a block of limestone was discovered with inscriptions in ancient Phoenician of a detailed plan for the recovery of the first Jewish temple, Solomon’s,’ Rafael said. ‘It was found on the Temple Mount, in the old city of Jerusalem.’
‘The Haram al Sharif, as the Muslims call it,’ Jacopo added, visibly pleased with himself.
‘The fragment dated from the time of the biblical king Jehoash, who reigned more than twenty-five hundred years ago. If you’re so well versed in the Bible, then you must remember chapter twelve, verses four, five, and six, specifically, from the Second Book of Kings, where it’s related that Jehoash, king of Judah, ordered all the money from the Temple collected to use in its restoration.’
‘Allegedly,’ Jacopo offered with a smile. ‘They never let me see that discovery. Nor was there further information about it.’
‘In 1961,’ Rafael continued, ‘an excavation of an ancient amphitheatre, ordered built by Herod the Great in Caesarea in the year 30 B.C ., revealed a limestone block, accepted as authentic. A partial inscription was found on it.’
Jacopo and Rafael quoted at the same time:
DIS AUGUSTIS TIBERIEUM
PONTIUS PILATUS
PRAEFECTUS IUDAEAE
FECIT DEDICVIT.
Jacopo applauded, smiling. ‘Pilate’s stone. It proves only the existence of Tiberias and Pilate, which was never in doubt, and confirms that Pilate’s office was prefect, or governor, and not prosecutor,’ Jacopo argued. ‘Do you have more?’
‘It’s a work in progress. Don’t forget we’re talking about millennia of history on top of history. But you never know when something new might appear, and you better than anyone know that it’s a slow process.’
Jacopo lifted his arms and opened his hands. ‘Let the sophists return. They’re forgiven.’
A light rain fell on them as they left the terminal, wetting their faces and clinging to their clothes.
‘Shitty weather,’ Jacopo complained.
The police had sent a car to take them to the place where Zafer had been found by an addict who was using the private spot to get high. Instead he found an old man stretched out on the floor on his stomach, lifeless.
The warehouse was in the north of the city, far from the tourist traffic and glow that made Paris the City of Lights. A collection of projectors, powered by a generator that made a monumental noise, lit up the interior and exterior of the building. The cadaver had been picked up during the afternoon. A technician collected all the evidence that could reveal anything
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