Extreme Archaeology of the Black Desert, Jordan 

Yorke Rowan, on behalf of the Eastern Badia Archaeological Project (EBAP) team 

 

Our adventures in extreme archaeology in the Black Desert of Jordan bring known expectations. We know that the long first day includes loading a Toyota Hilux and larger cargo truck; various stop offs to pick up water tanks, ice, and fuel; driving two hours off road through the rough basalt; arriving to unpack, build camp, inhale dust and flies; ending with the inevitable search for the first night’s mealThe sore limbs, chapped lips, more flies, snakes and melted ice are also all known. What was unknown during the 2018 expedition was the two days of torrential rains, wind and lightening. The soggy beginning brought on by this unusual weather episode encouraged us to appreciate the warm days that followed, and the pleasant discoveries of a region that can look so starkly unwelcoming. Logistics are a challenge in an area without cell phone reception and far from food and water, even for our small team of ten people.  

 

Figure 1. The team surveys their soggy surroundings after the final rain at Wisad Pools (Photo: Y. M. Rowan) 

 

 

Returning to Wisad Pools for the first time since 2014, a primary goal of the Eastern Badia Archaeological Project was to complete the excavation of building W-80, a large structure with multiple building phases and occupations. These episodes indicate people lived in the building sporadically over at least 700 years during the Late Neolithic (C14 indicates intermittent occupation from the mid7th to mid6th millennia cal. B.C.)Situated on the southeastern edge of the harra (basaltic landscape), Wisad Pools consists of a short drainage (c. 1.5 km long) that flows from a plateau to a qa’ (mudflat) about ten meters lower in elevationNatural and blocked sections of this drainage created nine pools, surrounded by hundreds of collapsed basalt structureswhich until now had no known age or function. The pools of water attracted people and animals for millennia. Using basalt boulders and slabs as their medium, people pecked rock art representing animals and hunting traps, and the occasional human. Yet most of the animals depicted are not found in our excavations. 

Figure 2. Petroglyph depicting ibex and two hunters (Photo: A. C. Hill) 

 

Continuing the excavation of the large structure W-80, we were surprised to find deeper, continuing depositsAlthough very good news, this required establishing the connections between depositional phases and structural remodeling that occurred later in the building’s life. For example, the narrow entrance of the main northeast door was created by inserting a wall section into the earlier, much wider entrance. By removing this blocking wall to expose an earlier, roughly paved entrance, a working platform rich in artifacts was discovered. We found a large pierced mother of pearl plaque tucked away at the base of the later entrance. 

Figure 3. Mother of pearl plaque found at the threshold (Photo: G. O. Rollefson) 

 

Below this level at the same threshold, a large worked block of red ochre was unearthed, pressed vertically into the ground. At a slightly higher level, we have reported on a cache of caprine/gazelle astragalae (Rowan et al. 2015a: Fig. 11a).  

Conducted in 1 x 1 m squares and 5 cm spits, the excavations of these earlier interior layers had smaller hearths, ashy deposits, and small grinding slabs with handstones. In the later occupations, surfaces included massive grinding slabs and deep fire pits, suggesting significant changes not only in the structure but also its use. Around the central standing stone we discovered a concentration of mandibles and crania from gazelle, suggesting a foundation deposit.

Figure 4. Cache of gazelle mandibles and crania fragments at the base of the central pillar in W-80 (Photo: B. Heidkamp).   

 

 In the same shallow pit a polished sphere strengthens the idea this was a ritual deposit. Another cache of caprine/gazelle astragalae found at the base of this pillar leave little doubt that these were intentional ritualized deposits.  

After four seasons of excavation at Wisad Pools, our perceptions of the area are becoming radically transformed. We cannot attribute all of the many structures to the Late Neolithic period, but evidence points to a substantial building and reuse of the area during this time. The impressive structures and rich deposits hint at the repeated use by hunter-herders who returned and lived near the pools, possibly for substantial parts of the year. Although we might see this arid landscape as bleak and barely habitable for short periods, those soggy first days remind us that the ancient inhabitants developed strategies to thrive and build hamlets in the Black Desert despite the many unknowns. 

  

Back to London 

 

OmarJoseph Nasser-Khoury [Birzeit University – Palestine] 

 

At the risk of using a cliché, I find it a bit hard to believe that a year has already passed since the start of the first phase of the project Documentation of the British Museum’s Palestine Textiles Collection. I remember the frantic last minute proposal writing and organising efforts communicated through pastmidnight e-mails fired back and forth across the world. Not much has changed; especially not the frenzy or past-midnight e-mails! Indeed, the excitement is reassuringly undiminished and chaos as always, reigns supreme. Now as I prepare for my return to London to resume the second, and possibly final, phase of the project, I reflect on last year’s experience. 

 

In 2018, I spent more than four months at the British Museum and updated more than 400 museum records. The bulk of my time was spent at the Textile Centre at Blythe House (BH) in West London working under the supervision of Helen Wolfe and Imogen Laing (Collections Managers at the BM Textile Centre). On a typical day I would arrive at 10 and work until 16:30/17:00, although my times were flexible. For each object record that I updated I had to physically examine its corresponding textile (usually a garment) to ensure that all information entered was accurate and correct to my best possible knowledge. In many cases, exact information could not be discerned, especially in terms of dating or the content of synthetic material, and therefore generalisations had to be made (time periods, like early 20th century, or 1930’s were entered instead of exact dates) in order to avoid misinformation. A lot of the time I found that I had to ask Helen or Imogen for a second opinion, or refer to external references, like Shelagh Weir’s Palestinian Costume (1989) to assist me in identifying some aspects of the textile and/or updating the record. In some instances, I had to surrender to my ignorance and proceed with the best possible generalisation. The alternative was a series of research rabbit holes that had me wondering far off into the realms of the obscure and usually irrelevant. At the beginning, one of the most confusing (and maddening) instances was to differentiate between indigo-dyed linen and cotton. Indigo dye actually coats the textile fibres, thus masking and altering the original texture and weight of the fibre which makes it a great feat of tactility and observation to discern one from the other. With time more hints became apparent and the task grew easier. Nonetheless, I have since become very suspicious of indigo dyed textiles and will always have that unsettling question: linen or cotton? 

 

It is worth mentioning that in addition to my specialist academic knowledge in the field of historic rural Palestine textiles, I myself am a maker and designer whose approach to textiles and dress is from a hands-on technical point of view. I have often felt that to have the ability to understand the deeper story behind an ethnographic object one needs to also understand how it was made just as much as why. Compreheniding the chemistry of colours and dyes, composition of constituent materials, as well as the techniques of making provide us with more clues when it comes to identifying, understanding and analysing each object. I have since 2006 dedicated the bulk of my time toward studying and understanding historic rural dress from Palestine and have been ingaged in making dress and researching and writing about embroidery 

 

Resuming this project is vital in so far as it will offer a sense of completion and achievement that I feel necessary both personally and professionally. The questions and research avenues opened up during last year’s experience, were far too many to adequately tackle or give time to. The sheer joy of having the chance to return and have such unique access to one of the world’s finest collections of Palestine textiles cannot be overstated. Especially when it is complemented with a world-class team who are all too generous with their time, support and wisdom. 

 

This project is supported and hosted by the Department of the Middle East and the International Training Programme at the British Museum, in partnership with the Palestine Exploration Fund, the British Council and Birzeit University Museum. 

 

  

‘Supposedly a Bird’ Couching embroidered silk sleeve insert in the Bethlehem area style on a village woman’s dress from Lifta (Jerusalem area) – late 19th to early 20th century. The British Museum Collection: Photo by OmarJoseph Nasser-Khoury 2018 

 

 

 

Tallis – Solid Wall of EmbroideryCross-stitch embroidery in red floss silk on the skirt of an indigo dyed linen Jillayeh (coat-dress) from Ramallah area – late 19th or early 20th century. The British Museum Collection: Photo by OmarJoseph Nasser-Khoury 2018 

 

The Making of a Pasha: Charles Moore Watson 

 

Dr Michael Talbot 

Lecturer in the History of the Ottoman Empire and Modern Middle East, University of Greenwich 

BBC & AHRC New Generation Thinker 

 

 

 

‘My dear Watson,  

Long live the Pasha! May Your Excellency enjoy every bliss, and flourish like the palm in which the doves sit and sing their love songs.’  

Herbert Kitchener, cited in Stanley Lane-Poole, Watson Pasha (1919) 

 

With this rather teasing note, Herbert Kitchener congratulated Charles Moore Watson on being awarded the rank of mirliva, or major-general, in the Egyptian army in 1885. This high office came with the Ottoman title pasha, with the result that Watson would ever be known as Watson Pasha“. An engineer by training with an interest in surveying, Watson was keen supporter of the Royal Geographic Society. A visit to Palestine in 1891 sparked an interest that would eventually lead him to becoming involved with the Palestine Exploration Fund, the chairmanship of which he would assume in 1905. However, he had cut his teeth in the Middle East surveying the White Nile in the mid-1870s, before participating in the British invasion of Egypt in 1882. Watson subsequently took on a number of senior duties in the military administration of that country. His involvement in organising the Egyptian armed forces led to him publishing an English-Arabic vocabulary for military use, and being awarded the title of pasha.  

 

 

Figure 1: Charles Moore Watson, 1887, from gallica.bnf.fr 

 

Kitchener’s mockery of Watson’s new title was not, however, directed at Watson himself, but rather at the ornate and elaborate style of writing found in the Middle East. In the archives of the PEF, there is a document that gives us an idea of what he was talking about, and it relates directly to Watson’s promotion. When I first saw the document, I’d expected it to be something to do with the British consulate in Jerusalem. From a brief initial glance over, it seemed to be a bog-standard Ottoman command, but with no mention of any of the usual names or places in Palestine for the period. In my haste, I’d missed out the key detail – the name of the subject of the command. This was in part because I hadn’t expected to see an English name followed by an Ottoman title. It was therefore a nice surprise to read out “Vatson Pasha” when I sat down and read through the document properly. 

 

 

 

Figure 2: “Watson Pasha”, PEF-DA-MISC DOCS-1 

 

Dated 21 Safer 1304 in the Islamic hijri calendar – that’s 19 November 1886 – this source is the official confirmation by Sultan Abdülhamid II of Watson’s new rank. Although Egypt had been under British military occupation since 1882, Abdülhamid II was still ruler of his province of Egypt on paper. Egyptian coins continued to bear his name, and commands issued by the Khedive in Cairo – technically a viceroy but basically an autonomous ruler – still had to be approved by Istanbul. Indeed, the dramatic flowery squiggles on the bottom left of the page indicate that this document was produced ‘in the locality of Well-Protected Constantinople’.  

 As proof of its genuineness, Watson’s imperial order is headed by the tuğra, the calligraphic cartouche of the sultan’s name, declaring to the entire world that this is the true command of ABDÜLHAMİD KHAN SON OF ABDÜLMECİD KHAN, THE EVER VICTORIOUS!  

 

 

Figure 3: The tuğra of Sultan Abdülhamid II and the first two lines of the command, PEF-DA-MISC DOCS-1 

 

Underneath the tuğra, the text itself is formulaic, but in the typical Ottoman court style is written in the beautiful divani script, intended to be both aesthetically pleasing and hard to copy. It also contains the grand and poetic imperial language contained in most kinds of official Ottoman correspondence. Let’s take a look at the opening line of text: 

“Most august commander of the commanders, pillar of the esteemed noblemen, possessor of might and honour, beneficiary of the of limitless benevolence of the all-knowing king, one of the commanders of my imperial Egyptian soldiers, Watson Pasha, who at this time has been bestowed and gifted the duty of the eminent rank of major-general by the lofty hem of my robe.”

Sounds pretty impressive, doesn’t it? But it sounds even better in the original, because in Ottoman Turkish the first part (from “Most august” to “all-knowing king“) makes up the formal epithet (elkab) attached to Watson’s new rank – and it rhymes. I’ve included a full transcription of this document the end of this post for those who might be interested, but it’s worth trying to give this part a read out loud in the original Ottoman Turkish to appreciate the flow of the title; I’ve highlighted the rhyming bits for emphasis:  

“Emir ül-ümera ül-kiram, umdet ül-kübera ül-fiham, zü’l-kadir ve’l-ihtiram, el-muhtass bi-mezid-i inayet ül-melik ül-allam”

So Kitchener’s ridicule of the poetic nature of Ottoman writing had a bit of a point. But mockery aside, this shows Watson being formally tied in to the centuries’-old practices of the Ottoman court, even if the circumstances in the late nineteenth century were rather different.  

The command goes on to explain the rationale behind how and why this promotion was to be confirmed: 

“Through my high imperial sign let it be known that: By virtue of the skill and competence of your knowledge, you who are the aforementioned pasha have been bestowed the duty of the eminent rank of major-general by the declaration and communication made by the Khedive of Egypt. Having done so in this manner, my high imperial command and order decrees that, the attainment of the said rank being in accordance with the necessary requirements received from the Imperial Council, this my present mighty and supreme command has been issued and [the rank] conferred. “

Here we can see the chain of events. Khedive Tawfiq of Egypt, in the rather awkward position of being both Ottoman viceroy and British protectee, granted Watson his promotion within the British-run Egyptian army. But the Egyptian army, as the command noted above, was still technically the Ottoman sultan’s. Keeping up so far? So the command went to the sultan’s imperial council in Istanbul, finally to be approved by the sultan’s order. This process took quite a while. Watson received his initial promotion in Egypt in July 1885, so well over a year had elapsed by the time he received this formal confirmation in November 1886.  

 

 

Figure 4: Lines three to five of the command, PEF-DA-MISC DOCS-1 

 

Now recognised as an Ottoman general and pasha, Watson had to be presented with the standard terms and conditions for an Ottoman imperial military appointment: 

“You have in this way received your promotion by the requirements of my favour and authority, and in taking on the rank of major-general, on all occasions you will show the proofs of your expertise and integrity and give all your care and effort in discharging the affairs of your office. Beware! You shall never in any way do anything in contravention of my imperial consent, nor contrary to the order of the state. May you prosper, thrive, and grow in strength.”

The irony in the text is delicious. Watson, a military officer who had taken a prominent part in the British invasion that had seized control of Egypt, and who was now acting as a senior administrator of the occupation, had been warned not to do anything that would betray the sultan.  

Ottoman official commands may not have spoken of doves in palm trees as Kitchener jested, but in the flowing poetic script of a formulaic promotion document, we can witness the imperial transition in Egypt, with the British firmly set in the country but with the Ottomans still making their claim. We also have a new document in the archives of the PEF to add to our knowledge of the life and career of that pillar of the esteemed noblemen, Watson Pasha.   

 

————————————- 

 

Transcription of the original Ottoman Turkish text 

 

ABDÜLHAMİD HAN BİN ABDÜLMECİD HAN EL-MUZAFFER DAİMA 

 

(1) Emirü’l-ümeraü’l-kiram umdetü’l-küberaü’l-fiham zü’l-kadr ve’l-ihtiram elmuhtass bi-mezid-i inayetü’l-melikü’l-allam  asakir-i Mısriye-i şahanem ümerasından olub bu defa uhdesine mir-i livalık rütbe-i muteberesi tevcih ve ihsan kılınan Vatson Paşa damen-i muallaya 

 

(2) tevki-i refi-i hümayunum vasıl olıcak malum oldur ki sen ki paşa-yı muma-ileyhsin senin derkar olan dirayet ve liyakatın cihetiyle uhde ki mir-i livalık rütbe-i muteberesi tevcihi Mısır Hidiviyeti canibinden ifade ve işar olunmuş ve ol vecihle icrası  

 

(3) hususuna emr ve irade-i seniye-i mülukanem müteallik şerefsüdur olmak olmağın mukteza-yı münifi üzere rütbe-i mezkureye nailiyetini mutazammın Divan-ı Hümayunumdan işbu emr-i celilü’il-kadrım ısdar ve ita olundu   sen dahi bu vecihle nail olduğun 

 

(4) iltifat ve itibara mütehattim ve mir-i livalık rütbesine müterettib olduğu üzere her halde umur-u memurende ibrazasardirayetmendi ve istikamete mezid-i itina ve sarfmakderet ve zinhar hilafrıza-yı şahanem ve muğayir-i nizam bir gune hal ve hareket 

 

(5) vukua gelmemesine bezl ve say ve kudret eyleyesin  tahriren fi’l-yevmü’l-vahid ve’l-ışrin min şehr-i Saferü’l-hayr li-sene erbaa ve selasü mie ve elf 

 

Be-makamKostantiniye el-Mahruse 

The Stonemasons of Beit Jala: Location, Skill, and Passion

By Dan Koski

[part 1 of 2]

The quiet hilltop city of Beit Jala that overlooks Bethlehem and the Jordan Valley in the West Bank has, by and large, escaped the interest of Biblical scholars, archaeologists, chroniclers and greater travelogues, but any serious student of the Holy Land will have at the very least come across its name or passed on through this Christian village. Yet the village has made its mark in more ways than one, including, quite literally, a mark in stone through its legacy of stonemasons.

The quality of the stonemasonry in Beit Jala is one of its many charms. From its Ottoman city centre to its more modern constructions from the British Mandate onwards, its residential, commercial and religious buildings have long been admired by pilgrims, travelers and researchers either passing through or residing in the village (Fig. 1).

Fig. 1: Historic Beit Jala buildings, late Ottoman to post-Jordanian era (photo by D. Koski).

It is said that Beit Jala was the first water-skin stop of the Holy Family en route to Egypt. With its abundance of water, relatively cool climate and proximity to both Jerusalem and Bethlehem, it is no wonder that Beit Jala took the interest of many of the disciples of Jesus who passed through it in his first few days on Earth. While identified as a Christian place of pilgrimage by at least the Ottoman era on a surviving Greek Orthodox pilgrimage map of the Holy Land in Crete, its Arab Palestinian Christian population became of equal interest by the 19th century.

With a surge in Catholic, Protestant and Russian Orthodox missionary activity in the late Ottoman Era, as well as a resurgent Greek Orthodox Church, local quality stonemasons were in high demand for innumerable building projects ranging from churches, schools and hospitals to more refined work such as statues needed for chapels (Fig. 2).

Fig. 2: Stone icon of Saint George above the lintel of a Beit Jala home (photo by D. Koski).

Being geographically close to Jerusalem and having contacts through the various Christian churches and communities which already had a keen interest in Bethlehem district, Beit Jala stonemasons had an invaluable leg up from the competition. Furthermore, with a local abundance of much-valued Jerusalem stone, known for its quality and pinkish rose-tinted hue (indeed, oral history attributes the columns of the nave within the Church of the Nativity to as being from the vicinity of present-day Beit Jala), administrators overseeing building projects could potentially use both local skill and building material, significantly reducing their overhead. The magnificent stonework of the Russian Orthodox Church of Mary Magdalene on Gethsemane and the façade of the Milk Grotto Church in Bethlehem, both completed in part by stonecutters from Beit Jala, bears witness to the quality work that could be accomplished by the end of the 19th century.

Unsurprisingly, a local market for expert stonemasonry begun to emerge in the late 19th to early 20th century, as the prosperity of several prominent Bethlehem and Beit Jala families from successful business ventures in the Americas resulted in a new urban middle class that sought to both house their growing families and show off their wealth. Unlike the family palaces of the Old City of Nablus which sought to emulate the grand hosh of Damascus, Bethlehem and Beit Jala families favored a style of residential architecture with more Western influences, with the front entrance of the home facing outwards and buffered by a small courtyard fenced off with either wrought-iron gates or a simple stone wall. Most famous of all of these homes is the Jacir Palace of Bethlehem near Rachel’s Tomb, at present the most prolific hotel in the region, if not the entire West Bank. The Greek Orthodox cemetery of Beit Jala boasts edifices which rival their Victorian peers (Fig. 3).

Fig 3: Relief panel of the Ottoman-Era Rizqallah family sarcophagus, located in the Greek Orthodox Cemetery of Beit Jala (photo by D. Koski).

Another unique structure is the Judah Salah House of Beit Jala, whose ornate decorative stone façade includes two caryatids of family members in 20th century dress.  During the Second Intifada, in which Beit Jala was occupied by the Israeli military in part due to its strategic, elevated position over Bethlehem, one of the heads of the caryatids was shot off in the crossfire between Palestinian militants and Israeli forces, and has since served as a continuous reminder of the constant threat of conflict in the region.

As a principally Palestinian Christian city, it should come as no surprise that the village includes some excellent examples of stone work on its five churches (three Orthodox, one Catholic and one Lutheran), its cemeteries and in the homes and businesses of its residents.  As elsewhere in the Holy Land, Christian and Muslim homeowners alike place commemorative stones over the front entrance of their homes as a blessing (Fig. 4).

Fig. 4: Decorate stone lintel over a 20th-century Beit Jala home (photo by D. Koski).

By far the most common depiction of Palestinian Christian stone iconography is Saint George, patron saint of Palestine, followed by an ornate cross, the Virgin Mary and Christ. Beit Jala stone icons of Saint Nicholas can also be found, for the gift-giving saint was known to have resided in a cave near what would become a monastery dedicated to Saint George (and himself) in later years.

At Virgin Mary Orthodox Church in the town’s center on sleepy summer afternoon, an inquiry on local stone sculptors at the local parish office with the priests and office workers resulted in no less than half a dozen family names without so much as a pause between names:  Matar, Saba, Abu Ghattas, Rabah, Nastas….

“See Fawzy Nastas, my father in law,” the church secretary suggests. “My wife will take you to meet him. He’s one of the best there is.”

In Part 2 of this blog, Beit Jala stone sculptor Fawzy Nastas will delve into his experience of “Making the Stones Speak.” Dan Koski is long-term a resident of Beit Jala, and can be reached at dankoski1979@gmail.com.

The Stonemasons of Beit Jala: Making the Stones Speak

By Dan Koski

[part 2 of 2]

Fawzy Nastas of Beit Jala is one of the most prolific stone sculptors in the West Bank. Having first learned his trade as an apprentice to his father during the renovation of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in the 1960s, he is the third stonemason within four generations (his grandfather having fled the country due to mass conscriptions into the Ottoman Army). Fawzy speaks English with a soft Italian accent; a remnant of the many years in which he studied stonemasonry in Italy. His workshop is witness to over five decades of consistent work in the Holy Land and abroad; commemorative grave markers for the Christian deceased, a veritable iconostasis of stone icons for residential and commercial homes, life-sculptures of national, civic and religious figures ranging from the Virgin Mary to Palestinian civic and national leaders (Fig. 1).

Fig. 1: Beit Jala stone sculptor Fawzy Nastas in his workshop (photo by D. Koski).

His commissions both sacred and secular can be found across the Holy Land. Some have suffered the fate of continual conflict in the nation; an enormous statue of Christ was vandalized by sectarian extremists while in a studio in Jerusalem; another statue of the Palestinian national leader Abd al-Qadr Al-Husseini, commissioned by a West Bank university, was decapitated by Islamic fundamentalists who objected to the life-sized imagery being so prominently placed (a copy was made and the original, now restored, stands sentinel in front of the Nastas family home) (Fig. 2).

Fig. 2: Samples of stone icons for sale in Fawzy’s workshop, traditionally placed above the front door of Palestinian Christian homes and businesses (photo by D. Koski).

No mere artisan, Fawzy holds a doctorate degree from the Academy of Fine Art in Brera, Milano, and is frequently called to lecture on and represent Palestinian stonemasons and artists in conferences and exhibitions across the country. His knowledge of the history of the craft extends to delightful folk stories, such as an oft-repeated legend of one of the first well-known stonemasons of Beit Jala, Jabra Saba, who while working on the Jacir family home of Bethlehem (now the Jacir Palace) kept pestering the French architect for his next assignment at the building project. The architect, tired of the conversation, eventually blurted out a command: “go make a monkey!” – a task which the eager artisan eagerly set himself to and promptly displayed his finished work to the exasperated architect some time later.

Other legends of the works of Beit Jala stonecutters take on a darker side; for as with many other places where grand homes and buildings from eras past are part of local history, stories of haunted houses occasionally surface.  The afore-mentioned Salah house of Beit Jala, now past its prime, plays the part of the haunted house in many children’s neighborhood games and stories, while a long-standing story of a boy who once visited the Jacir Palace described meeting a man in outdated clothes – and then identified him from a mural portrait of the original owner, long since deceased (Fig. 3).

Fig. 3: The Judah Salah Family home of Beit Jala, considered one of the finest examples of Beit Jala stonework (photo by D. Koski).

A Future?

Now reaching his sixth decade of stonemasonry, Fawzy continues to work exclusively with his hands, and also teaches stone masonry. Like many other artisans in related fields, he is wary of the future of his craft.

“They use robotics and computers,” Fawzy says, speaking of the new generation of stone sculptors in general. “They don’t know how to draw, and they can’t finish (the fine-detailing) of their work. There are people who come to me with offers to work on projects with computers, but I refuse. To work on art, it must be done by hand. Almost every year, I am going to symposiums across the world for art, to represent Palestine. The question is, why are they choosing me? It is because, in my opinion, I am working by hand.”

Will stonemasonry in Beit Jala survive this century? With an exception of a few artistically-inclined souls, the younger men of Beit Jala do not see stone sculpting as a viable future. Today, Beit Jala is better known for its disproportionate number of doctors, engineers, and academics, for another legacy of Beit Jala’s proximity to Jerusalem and Bethlehem has been access to private schools, missionary organizations and civil society organizations that continue to open doors to higher education in Palestine and abroad. With an exception of a few artistically-inclined souls, the younger men of Beit Jala do not see stone sculpting as a viable future.

While taking photos of decorative lintels and stone icons. I came across a construction site near the city centre. A skeletal frame of a new building using more expensive stone dressing is going up, and while not even the exterior walls of the first floor have been completed, a large stone icon of Saint George slaying the dragon (Fig. 4), complete with a blessing and an inscription of the year in which the foundation of the structure was laid, has been placed at the upper center of the street entrance.

Fig. 4: Stone icons of Saint George, patron of Palestine, Christ, and other Christian figures, created by Fawzy Nastas (photo by D. Koski).

The smooth polished stone face of Saint George, untarnished as of yet by exhaust fumes and the intensity of the Palestine sun, looks on over the old city of Beit Jala and towards Jerusalem.

 

 

 

 

Dan Koski is a long-term resident of Beit Jala, and can be reached at dankoski1979@gmail.com. A special thank you to Faten Nastas Mitwasi, artist, Chairwoman of the Visual Arts Department of Dar Al-Kalima College and daughter of Fawzy Nastas, who is preparing a book on Palestinian stonemasonry.

Archaeologists in Print

By Amara Thornton

Over the course of two afternoons sometime in 2015, I wandered around the shelves of the PEF’s Library. I’d been there many times before, for meetings and archive research. But this time I came as a browser, my eyes scanned the spines as I paced round the room. I was focused on finding archaeologists’ popular publications. It was the subject of my postdoctoral research, now published as my first book, Archaeologists in Print: Publishing for the People (UCL Press).

Archaeologists in Print details the history of popular archaeology publishing in Britain roughly between the 1870s and the 1970s. It focuses on the books that British archaeologists produced for a non-scholarly audience, how these came to publication, and how archaeologists built a public presence in order to commodify their archaeological experience in popular formats. For the most part, the archaeologist-authors featured in Archaeologists in Print were working in the Eastern Mediterranean and Middle East. Names familiar to PEF members and friends (and represented on the Library shelves) are among those included: Flinders Petrie, David George Hogarth and John Garstang, for example. Women, including Mary Brodrick, Annie Quibell, Margaret Wheeler and Dorothy Mackay, were equally active in archaeology as these more famous men, not only in excavation, but also in promotion and public archaeology, particularly through tours and guidebooks. They are highlighted in Archaeologists in Print both in a specific chapter, “The Women Who Did”, and deliberately integrated throughout the book.

Archaeologists in Print is comprised broadly of two parts. The first part is an overview, charting how archaeologists were defined through education, training, and experience (especially travel-related), revealing the role of newspapers and compendiums in enhancing archaeologists’ public visibility as experts, and examining how books were marketed through series, circulating and public libraries, and bookshops.  The second part focuses on three important publishing houses: John Murray, Macmillan & Co, and Penguin. It details the rich histories to be found in publishers’ archives, and evaluates the careers and books of a number of different archaeologists who published with these companies. The book ends with an exploration of archaeology in fiction, concentrating on three genres: romance, horror/fantasy, and crime.

I thoroughly enjoyed my foray into the fascinating history of popular archaeology publishing, and discovering some unexpectedly fruitful archives along the way. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed the writing and research!

Archaeologists in Print: Publishing for the People can be downloaded as an open access pdf free from UCL Press: http://www.ucl.ac.uk/ucl-press/browse-books/archaeologists-in-print 

Paperback and hardback copies are also available for purchase.

 

Holy Lands in the USA: Two Tabernacles and Christmas

by Crispin Paine

[part 2 of 2]

The remarkable use made of drama as a mission tool by US Evangelical Christians has attracted some attention. In Eureka Springs, Arkansas, a Holy Land has grown out of a Passion Play. The Great Passion Play Theme Park was founded in the mid-1960s on the land of his retirement home by Gerald L. K. Smith, an ageing right-wing radio evangelist who hated Blacks and especially hated Jews (he insisted that Jesus wasn’t a Jew, but that Presidents Roosevelt, Truman, and Eisenhower were.) Smith was a ‘Disciples of Christ’ minister, but also a very active politician whom even right-wing Republicans regarded as extreme. An active rabid pro-Nazi, after the War he campaigned for the release of Nazi war criminals. (The park today seems to have entirely escaped its founder’s racism: indeed, one of the attractions offered to visitors is an Israeli bomb-shelter, obtained via a colleague of Netanyahu.)

There he created his Sacred Projects, beginning with Christ of the Ozarks, a 67ft hilltop statue of Christ, following it in 1968 with the annual Great Passion Play, modelled on the Oberammergau Passion Play (Fig. 1).

Fig. 1: The Great Passion Paly stage (photo by C. Paine).

Smith’s plan was to create another major attraction: a full-size replica of the Old City of Jerusalem. He died when only the East Gate (of stone, and still impressive) had been built, and the project was abandoned (Fig. 2).

Fig. 2: The “East Gate of Jerusalem” at “The Great Passion Play Theme Park” (photo by C. Paine).

Instead, in the early ‘90s, across the neighbouring hills were set up some 25 sites illustrating particular places/stories in the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament. These are used as foci for the New Holy Land Tour, which is in effect a two-hour mobile sermon. My tour was led by a Texan who, with her husband, spends the winter as a missionary in Mexico, and the summer acting in the Great Passion Play. Seven retired people and two newly-weds were taken round in a mini-bus; all the others appeared to be Evangelical Christians. Not all, however, seemed entirely familiar with their Bibles; an initial prayer, while parked under the East Gate, was followed by a discussion of whether Christ at the Second Coming would enter Jerusalem through the East Gate. One tourist remarked that ‘the Muslims’ had created a cemetery outside the gate in order to discourage Him.

The highlight of the tour was undoubtedly the impressive replica of the Tabernacle, which gets 16,000 visitors a year (the Play gets 50,000) and where the tour-guide’s husband Rob suggested (with huge use of parallels, symbols and numerology) that “everything in the Tabernacle points to Jesus”. At each stopping-point on the tour the guide delivers a little homily drawing a Christian message from the site. Other high points are the Upper Room and the Sea of Galilee (a very pretty lake), where on larger tours actors reenact the Last Supper and Jesus walking on the water.

‘Holy Land’ attractions approached from an archaeological and historical perspective are quite common in the US. ‘Bible History Exhibits’ in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, is a very modest example, housed in a small bungalow on the main road (Fig. 3).

Fig. 3: The “Bible History Exhibits”, Paradise PA (photo by C. Paine).

The simple displays are mostly of museum reproductions of artifacts, inscriptions and manuscripts, collected over the past twenty years and carefully chosen to tell the story first of the Hebrew Bible, then of the New Testament, and then of the Bible’s impact. In the garden is a modest replica of a Palestinian tomb and an olive press. The one-hour tour is led by Dr. Stephen Myers, who describes a selection of the exhibits, following broadly the story of the Bible.

 

Holy Lands appear in all sorts of places. The nearby ‘National Christmas Center’ is the life’s work of Jim Morrison, and includes a very large collection of cribs, a replica of a 1950s Woolworths Christmas display, endless Santa Clauses from a variety of countries, and so on. It also includes a display representing the Holy Family’s journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. This is a walkthrough combining replica Holy Land buildings and full-size dioramas of market traders in a Caravansarai (‘like a modern truckstop’) and of the birth of Christ (Fig. 4). The dangers of the journey are represented by a pair of stuffed mountain lions.

Fig. 4: Traders in the caravansarai, “National Christmas Center” (photo by. C. Paine).

Not far away is the Biblical Tabernacle Reproduction. This is one of the better-known Tabernacle replicas, though certainly inferior to that at the Great Passion Play theme-park, partly because the quality of reproduction is less, but also because this one is indoors. It was created in the late 1940s as the ‘Moses Tabernacle in the Wilderness,’ by a Baptist minister in St. Petersburg, Florida. Mennonites later purchased the replica and eventually joined it with the Mennonite Information Center. The Tabernacle has partly-open sides, enabling visitors to watch while a Mennonite minister gives an explanation. More straightforward than the presentation at the Great Passion Play, nevertheless he too drew a Christian message from the experience.

In his website http://www.materializingthebible.com, James Bielo of Miami University, Oxford, Ohio, lists 433 visitor attractions worldwide themed on the Bible. ‘Some are educational, some for fun, some for devotion. Some playful, some deeply serious. Some elaborate, some simple. Some controversial, some not. A few are all of the above.’ Were he to extend his list to include other ‘Holy Land’ places, he might include such attractions as ‘Prophet Muhammad Cinematic City’ near Qom, which reproduces Mecca at the time of Mohammed, and even Vrindavan, where ISKCON is building a theme-park to celebrate the birthplace of Krishna.

Holy Lands in the USA: from the Garden Tomb to Noah’s Ark

by Crispin Paine

[part 1 of 2]

Replicas and re-imaginings of the Holy Land have been found throughout the Christian world for well over a thousand years. Today most are to be found in the US: some modest back-garden sites, some multi-million dollar visitor attractions. Last year, thanks to a generous PEF grant, I visited eleven of them.

Typical of the little sites is ‘The Garden of Hope’, a two-acre rather scruffy garden in a suburban back street of working-class Covington, across the river from downtown Cincinnati. In 1938 a Southern Baptist minister, Rev. Morris Coers, visited the Holy Land, and was so moved by the Garden Tomb that he determined to build a replica back home. His Garden opened in 1958; it is now maintained by a local church and used for occasional services and weddings, as well as for informal visits (Fig. 1).

Fig. 1: The ‘Tomb of Christ’ at ‘The Garden of Hope’ (photo by C. Paine).

Besides the replica tomb, the Garden contains a ‘Carpenter’s Shop’, with chairs for meetings or services, a mural of a 19th (?) century Palestinian carpenter, old carpentry tools given by Ben Gurion, and an Israeli flag. It contains alsoa small chapel used for weddings, with ‘a stone from the Horns of Hatton [sic]’ on which the couple stands while exchanging vows. Oddly, this building is vaguely based on a 1620 Spanish Mission church. Other Garden attractions include stones from the River Jordan, from Solomon’s Temple, and from the Good Samaritan Inn. The Garden offers a splendid view over downtown Cincinnati; beside the viewpoint sits a statue of Christ giving the Sermon on the Mount, and behind is (a label informs us) a ’30 feet cross put up by angels during the night.’

At the opposite end of the scale is the Museum of the Bible in Washington, opened in November. I was generously given a preview, plus interviews with the Director and senior staff. The museum was founded by Steve Green, a phenomenally wealthy businessman, and costed some $500m. Before the opening it had attracted some very bad publicity, because his company has been successfully prosecuted for illegally importing looted Iraqi antiquities. The museum tried desperately to distance itself, but Green remains chairman of its Board.

The museum’s focus is on the Bible as a book, and tries to engage with its history, its stories, and its impact; I was assured that it doesn’t promote any one religion or doctrine, but every faith community is given its own voice; as the director put it, they “hope for harmony, like a choir.” Certainly Catholicism receives a lot of emphasis, as does the role of the Hebrew Bible in Judaism and Jewish tradition, but it was less clear that its role in Islam is noticed.

There are six floors. The top two floors are devoted to restaurant, theatre, Biblical Garden, meeting rooms and so on, and the ground floor to reception and orientation, children’s gallery, shop and library. Between are three floors of displays. The lowest is the ‘Impact Floor’, focussed on ‘the impact of the Bible on Society, Government and Culture,’ the middle floor is the ‘Narrative Floor’, focussed on stories from the Bible. The highest is the ‘History Floor’, devoted to the history of the Bible as a book, and the most object-rich of the galleries. The Holy Land will appear in numerous places, most notably in the Hebrew Bible Walk-through, and in a substantial reconstruction, ‘The Nazareth Jesus Knew”, with volunteer actors (Fig. 2).

Fig. 2: Building Nazareth at ‘The Bible Museum’, Washington (photo by C. Paine).

Though there are many concerns, the museum – if only thanks to its size – is going to be a game-changer for religion museums. It aims to be the most technologically advanced museum in the world; the budget for technology alone is $42m.

Two attractions on an almost similar scale have been set up by the Creationist ‘Answers in Genesis’ organisation near Cincinnati. They present not the Holy Land exactly, but stories from the Bible. The Creation Museum attracts over half a million visitors a year. It was opened in 2007 as a major theme-park/museum, with the aim of persuading visitors of the truth of fundamentalist Christianity, and that the Earth was created about 6,000 years ago. The museum’s highlights are certainly the Bible Walkthrough, with its elaborate dioramas of the Garden of Eden and the famous figures of Adam and Eve, and of small children playing with baby dinosaurs (Fig. 3), but equally engaging are the animatronic figures of Noah and his family.

Fig. 3: Dinosaurs at “The Creation Museum” (photo by C. Paine).

The second of Answers in Genesis’s attractions opened in July 2016, and received 1.2m visitors in its opening year. There are plans for a pre-flood walled city, first-century village, Tower of Babel and a journey illustrating the parting of the Red Sea, but the main attraction at present is the wooden replica of Noah’s Ark, 510 feet long and 51 feet high. It really is astonishing. The dramatic exterior is matched by the Piranesi-like views up through the three decks, the timberwork created by Amish craftsmen (Fig. 4).

Fig. 4: Inside ‘Ark Encounter’ (photo by C. Paine).

The displays mix up conventional displays on aspects of the flood (and some more widely presenting Creationist theory) and reconstructions of animal cages and the living quarters of Noah’s family (Fig. 5).

Fig. 5: One of Noah’s disaffected workers, at ‘Ark Encounter’ (photo by C. Paine).

 

 

 

A Day in Jerusalem

By Charlotte Kelsted

In April 2018, a generous travel grant from the Palestine Exploration Fund allowed me to carry out an introductory research trip to Palestine. My research explores the attitudes and experiences of British women (colonial wives, missionaries, teachers, nurses and others) who resided in Palestine during the British Mandate (1920-1948), focusing specifically on encounters between these British women and local Palestinian Arab and Jewish communities. I started my PhD seven months ago, and this research trip has undoubtedly been the highlight of my doctoral study thus far.

After arriving into Tel Aviv late in the evening, I spent the first night of my trip at the charming Kenyon Institute in East Jerusalem. The Kenyon Institute, formerly the British School of Archaeology at Jerusalem (BSAJ), was established during the British military administration of Palestine in 1919, as result of a joint effort by the Palestine Exploration Fund, the British Academy and the Foreign Office. The library at the Kenyon Institute contains over 10,000 volumes on the Middle East and is particularly rich in material relating to Mandate Palestine.

Next to the Kenyon Institute is Dar Issaf Nashashibi, an inspiring archive and library devoted to promoting Palestinian cultural heritage. Dar Issaf Nashashibi was my first stop in Jerusalem and I was fortunate to meet Dua, Head Librarian, who was exceptionally helpful. From the top of Dar Issaf Nashashibi one can see Mount Scopus and the Hebrew University of Jerusalem (Fig. 1). Founded in 1918 and inaugurated under the British Mandate, the Hebrew University has rapidly expanded since the early twentieth century: with 270 students in 1934, in 2017 there were 23,000 students registered at the university.

Fig. 1: Mount Scopus and Hebrew University of Jerusalem (photo by C. Kelsted).

 

Next I visited the Mount of Olives to see the Dome of the Rock in all its splendour. This iconic shrine dominates the Jerusalem landscape and as the golden dome sparkled in the midday sun, the adhan from Al-Aqsa Mosque drifted up the Mount of Olives. Setting eyes on this view for the first time was a stirring moment for me, having gazed longingly at a photograph of this view from my desk in Exeter for several months prior to the trip (Fig. 2).

Fig. 2: The Dome of the Rock seen from Mount of Olives (photo by C. Kelsted).

Back in the heart of this remarkable city in the afternoon, I entered the Old City for the first time through Damascus Gate. The atmosphere that greeted me was intoxicating: narrow passageways full to bursting with fervent tourists, locals expertly weaving in and out of the crowds as they attempt to carry out their daily business, clamorous shopkeepers and street vendors selling their wares, young men speeding through the ancient, cobbled streets on motorbikes, popping up behind you without a moment’s warning and the intoxicating smell of cinnamon and other aromatic herbs and spices emanating from the souq.

Escaping the intensity of the Old City, I roamed along the ramparts from Jaffa Gate to Damascus Gate and onwards, finally reaching the Spafford’s Children Centre. I had first heard the moving story of this centre from The Right Honourable Lady Cope of Berkeley at a Remembrance Service for the British Palestine Police in November 2017, and had been looking forward to visiting ever since.

The Spafford’s Children Centre was founded by Bertha Spafford Vester – an ancestor of the Rt Hon. Lady Cope, a patron of the British Palestine Police Association – in 1925 (Fig. 3 – Special thanks to Rachel Lev at the American Colony Archives, for kindly supplying this image).

Fig. 3: Mothers, nurses and children, Anna Spafford Baby Home (today the Spafford Children’s Centre), 1925 – 1934; part of Members and Activities of the American Colony and Aid Projects, 1926 – 1937 (courtesy of American Colony Archive, Jerusalem).

Bertha’s parents, Horatio and Anna Spafford were pious Christians who moved to the Holy Land in 1881 following the loss of four of their children at sea and another to scarlet fever. On arrival in the Holy Land, Horatio and Anna Spafford founded the American Colony and embarked on a project of philanthropic work to benefit all sections of Jerusalem’s population. In 1925, inspired by the work of her parents, Bertha established the Spafford Baby Home (now the Spafford Children’s Centre). To this day, the centre aims to assist all children and families in need of support, regardless of race or religion.

In the early evening I left the Old City and headed northwards, back to the Kenyon Institute in the Sheikh Jarrah neighbourhood. On the way I came across St George’s Cathedral (Fig. 4).

Fig. 4: Façade of Saint George’s Cathedral (photo by C. Kelsted).

This cathedral was built in the late nineteenth century under the instruction of George Blyth, who had founded the Jerusalem and East Mission (now the Jerusalem and the Middle East Church Association) in 1888. This charming cathedral was the principal Anglican place of worship in the Palestine during the Mandate and thus a focal point for the British community between 1920 and 1948. Taking a moment to envision the British colonial wives, missionaries, teachers, nurses and others who would have congregated at this cathedral – several of whom taught at the adjoining school and college – was the perfect way to end my first day in Jerusalem.