Archaeology as a Love Affair

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Archaeology is a love affair between an archaeologist and an ancient ruin. The ruin heap may be a shipwrecked galleon, an isolated stone circle in a vast desert, or the fallen walls of a fortress still uncovered by the sands of time. There are some 5,000 ruin heaps in ancient Palestine, within the modern states of Jordan and Israel. Only a few hundred have attracted excavation, mostly small soundings and emergency clearances. Some thirty sites have been the scene of large-scale excavations, but even at these, much remains to be dug. This leaves some 98% of its major ruins still untouched by an expedition. Even with all these untapped resources, Palestine is probably the scene of the most intense archaeological activity on earth.

Most of the major ruins are tells. This Arabic word, like its Turkish counterparts tepe and hüyük, designates a roughly cake-shaped hill or mound with sloping sides, its layers comprising the remains of the succeeding peoples who called it home. The Hebrew of the Bible speaks of a town standing on its tell (Joshua 11:13) and of making a town a tell forever (Joshua 11:13), that is, destroying it so thoroughly that it would never be inhabited again.

Why build a new town on a ruin heap? Perhaps the most compelling reasons were similar to those which attracted the first inhabitants to the site. Three of the most important factors were a convenient and sufficient water supply, access to highways and trade routes, and a defensible position. While in the flat land of Mesopotamia tells are commonly built up from ground level, in Palestine the first occupants usually settled on a flat-topped rocky outcrop. This higher location provided an overview of the neighborhood, often for miles around, an advantage in case of attack. As its succeeding towns rose and fell the tell grew higher, its slopes steeper, and its attractiveness as a defensible site for new occupants increased. Substantial ruins gave new colonists confidence in the sufficiency of the water supply and provided their own advantage.

Even after centuries of neglect and abandonment the stumps of earlier defense walls made renewal of the defenses relatively simple, and the walls and tumbles of stone buildings provided a convenient supply for the new builders: When newcomers found lines of earlier stone walls, they frequently dug them out. The trench that remained was eventually filled with later materials, thus forming so-called “robber trenches” to plague the archaeologist. “Robber trenches” are eloquent testimony to one advantage in settling a new town on an old ruin.

Many newcomers used even more than the building materials of their predecessors. Often defenses follow the earlier lines, streets and paths continue a similar pattern, and houses abandoned for centuries have their walls re-erected. It is quite common to have the same town defense line reused for over 2000 years.

Through the last 10,000 years and down to the present day colonists in the Near East have settled new sites and reused those of their predecessors. As a result each tell has its own occupational history. Some have had only one or two periods of occupation, others as many as two dozen. Some may have been occupied only in the second millennium B.C., others only for a few centuries in the first millennium A.D. Gaps in settlement at a site may range from a few years to a few millennia. Some settlements on a tell suggest a flourishing town, others stagnation.

Its occupational history is only one facet of a tell’s character. Its setting is another. It may be commanding or vulnerable, picturesque or unimpressive. Its location influences another facet of its character, its degree of sophistication. Its situation may suggest that it was a cosmopolitan center of 024commerce or a caravansary, a governmental center or an agricultural hamlet. Its dimensions also have a bearing on its character. The depth of occupational debris varies from a few inches to over 70 feet at majestic Beth-shan. In extent Palestinian tells range from tiny citadels 150 feet in diameter to sites of some 25 acres.

The small size of Palestinian tells deserves more than passing attention. Tells can be expanded only with great difficulty. Shechem in the sixteenth century B.C. provides an example of expansion by the dumping of a massive fill and incorporating additional space within the town wall. At contemporary Hazor expansion on a much larger scale was undertaken. A fortified town of 185 acres (¼ sq. mi.), six times larger than the original tell, was created by digging a ditch to serve as a defensive moat and using the dirt as a platform on which to erect the defense wall. Hazor is of exceptional size for Palestine but only begins to compare in size with the larger towns of Palestine’s neighbors. Few of Palestine’s towns ever needed more living space than their tell provided, and excess population could normally be accommodated in caves or hovels near the base of the mound.

The small tells of Palestine are frequently called cities and the process of their urbanization is described. To ancients inhabiting the larger “cities” of Egypt, Mesopotamia, and even Syria, the fortified sites of Palestine were hardly more than “towns”. Moderns concerned with the urban crisis are likely to misunderstand a discussion of the urbanization of Palestine. If “urban” terminology is retained, accurate communication would appear to demand explicit divestment of much of its modern meaning and connotation.

With this sketch of Palestinian tells in mind, we now turn to the other partner of an archaeological love affair, the archaeologist. Among archaeologists working in Palestine there is a rich and healthy diversity, perhaps greater than anywhere else in the world. Besides local Jordanian and Israeli diggers, archaeologists come to Palestine from the United States, Canada, Great Britain, Germany, France, Spain, Italy, Netherlands, Denmark, and even Australia, Japan, and Venezuela. While directing an excavation is not a task for the weak, I have worked on digs led by men in their 20’s and in their 70’s. Archaeology has been pursued as an aristocratic avocation and by travelers indigent when they reached Palestine. Archaeologists have been attracted to Palestine by glint of treasure, prospect of adventure, interest in history, and religious fervor. Archaeological investigation has even been used as a subterfuge for spying. One excavator is trying to define the changes in pottery in the 13th and 12th centuries B.C.; another is searching for the body of Moses; a third hunts treasure mentioned in the Copper Scroll from the Dead Sea caves.

There are surprisingly few biographies of Palestinian archaeologists, or even brief sketches that convey something of the personal dimension, and balanced assessments of them have yet to be made.

Tells have attractions for archaeologists quite comparable to the enticements leading on a young lover. Tells are old or young; display a degree of beauty, sophistication, and wealth; have a distinctive shape and measurements; a more or less interesting past with greater or lesser capability of communicating it; varying accessibility; and varying prospects for the archaeological marriage. However, the archaeologist’s set of values may differ from the customary young lover. The British mystery writer Agatha Christie is reported to have said of her archaeologist husband, M. E. L. Mallowan, “It’s great to be married to an archaeologist. The older I get, the more he appreciates me.”

Of course, there are whirlwind affairs where an excavation is begun at a particular tell without pre-dig investigation of the mound’s characteristics, serious consideration of alternate sites, or even careful definition of the expedition’s purpose. Probably the current trend to return to sites of earlier excavation would be less pronounced if consideration were given to the many untouched mounds with exciting possibilities.

What can be known about a tell before excavation? Does a mound offer pre-dig indications of exciting possibilities? Many features of tells can be described without excavation—location, relation to trade routes and water supply, setting, size. Fair estimates of its defense line and depth of deposit are sometimes possible, but in many instances they can be deceptive. A careful study of the surface remains, especially potsherds, will give a picture of the site’s occupation history, though evidence especially 025for some of the early periods of occupation might be lacking. Further information on the site may often be gleaned from ancient records, particularly the Bible. At times aerial photographs, especially those taken in early spring, reveal architectural features or major installations not evident on the surface. If a major excavation is in prospect and the excavator is not satisfied by surface indications, he may conduct soundings or small test excavations to aid in his decision.

All this information is of importance as an archaeologist considers what sites are most desirable for accomplishing his excavation purposes. The Holy Land occasionally attracts diggers with misguided purposes. A recent excavator’s goal was the discovery of Moses’ body. His Biblical study led him to excavate at a site where there were no surface potsherds from the time of Moses. When a visitor convinced him that the room where he was sketching Moses’ bones postdated the age of Moses, he began blasting the natural bedrock with dynamite, convinced that Moses’ body was further down.

Legitimate excavation goals cover a broad range of interests and vary from quite general to very specific objectives. After the Samaria papyri were purchased, we were guided to the findspot. The clearance of that spot, deep in a cave, halfway from Samaria to Jericho, illustrates excavations undertaken to illumine a chance find of importance.

In another instance, when a group of Old Testament scholars wanted to form an expedition, they stipulated a large tell, primarily occupied in the Biblical period, and of significance in Biblical history. Because it was one of the few mounds to meet these qualifications without substantial remains of later occupation, Taanach was selected.

At times the historical importance of a site overrides the disadvantage of digging through many feet of late debris, as the many excavations in Jerusalem illustrate.

Perhaps the largest number of digs may be classed as salvage archaeology. Local departments of antiquities are hardpressed to investigate antiquities that must be cleared before a house, a pipeline, or a highway can be completed. Our campaign at Tell el-Fûl, where Albright had discovered the Fortress of Saul, was a salvage campaign before construction of King 026Hussein’s West Bank palace was begun. This campaign illustrated another currently common dig objective, to check and refine the results of earlier excavations.

Fortunately, none of the expeditions mentioned was required to have as an objective the securing of artifacts for foreign museums. Especially British excavations have received support from museums with the expectation that the contribution would be repaid with a group of artifacts from the excavation. Practically, this means that a selection of sites is frequently limited to a mound where the adjacent cemetery has been located, for most intact artifacts are recovered from tombs, not tells. Other excavations associated with museums are at times under pressure to pursue projects with promise of more immediate and spectacular results. Archaeologists, too, frequently by character or by pressure from their supporters, pursue excavation goals more concerned for the interest of the public media than for contributions to scientific and historical understanding.

Such are the reasons archaeologists dig in Palestine—historical, scientific, circumstantial, practical, personal, political. Sometimes a single overriding goal leads to a particular mound, but more often the choice of a tell results from a combination of considerations, and these are revised and amplified as excavation continues.

One motivation for excavation in Palestine deserves special attention. How much influence has religious, theological, or Biblical interest had on Palestinian archaeology? Does archaeology in Palestine, because it is the Holy Land, have a distinctive branch called Biblical archaeology?

Some deplore the fact that Palestinian archaeology is dominated by archaeologists with Biblical or religious concerns to the detriment of the science of archaeology. They point to frequent arbitrary links between Biblical events and archaeological finds, to the bulldozing of later occupation to expose the remains of ancient Israel, and to the popular books claiming that archaeologists have verified or “proved” the Bible. They criticize especially the current American tradition for treating Palestinian archaeology as a stepchild of Biblical studies.

Others insist that it is as natural for Palestinian archaeology to be dominated by Biblical scholars as it is for Greek archaeology to be the concern of students of the classics. While there have been archaeologists bent on proving the Bible or impulsive in suggesting Biblical connections, they have been more successful in capturing headlines than in influencing the development of scientific archaeology in Palestine. Their numbers are insignificant when compared to religiously concerned archaeologists who have made responsible scientific contributions.

Overemphasis of either perspective would do Palestinian archaeologists an injustice. Overconcern about the religious background and interests of most Palestinian archaeologists can lead to such wild and preposterous accusations as John Allegro’s charge that Pere de Vaux and the religious members of the Dead Sea Scroll team have suppressed documents scandalizing the origins of Christianity. On the other side, it is constantly necessary to persevere against an uncritical use of the archaeological material of Palestine by religious adherents or popularizers of the “archaeology-proves-the-Bible” line.

To deny the legitimacy of Biblical archaeology as a subject would be as foolish as trying to proscribe an investigation into the light archaeology sheds on the epics of Homer. It would be equally wrongheaded to claim that a mastery of Biblical archaeology is sufficient qualification for excavating in Palestine.

At its worst Biblical archaeology deals with bits and pieces of Palestinian archaeology with Biblical implications. At its best it deals with Biblical times, concerning itself with all aspects of Palestinian archaeology in the last two millennia B.C. and the first century A.D.; and it deals with the Biblical world, Palestine’s connections with Mesopotamia, Anatolia, Egypt, Greece, Rome, and beyond. In such a scope it is as sound to speak of Biblical archaeology as it is of Roman or Byzantine archaeology, disciplines dealing with the times and world of the Roman and Byzantine empires. Yet even so broadly conceived, mastery of Biblical archaeology is less than a sufficient qualification for a Palestinian archaeologist.

How do you become an archaeologist? Palestinian archaeologists must answer this question again and again, particularly 027for young archaeology enthusiasts. The answer involves considerable embarrassment, first, because most Palestinian archaeologists did not ask that question when they were young. While the situation is improving, the majority of excavators fell into Palestinian archaeology through the back door. They may have specialized in related disciplines like Biblical studies, Semitic languages, or ancient history, but very few have concentrated their studies on the disciplines required of a field archaeologist in Palestine. Most of the best Palestinian archaeologists are either self-taught masters or disciples of leading archaeologists who have gained most of their knowledge in the field. The brightest prospect for the future of Palestinian archaeology lies with those young enthusiasts who early decide on a career in Palestinian archaeology, allowing more time to master the broad and diverse disciplines required of a qualified archaeologist.

A second embarrassment is that there is no general agreement upon a satisfactory academic program to prepare qualified Palestinian excavators. Some would prefer a training program emphasizing methods of digging, observing, recording, classifying, analyzing, comparing, and publishing archaeological material. Others feel that academic preparation should concentrate upon a broader training in the languages, literatures, histories, and archaeological findings of Palestine and her Near Eastern neighbors. With this background, they argue, the practical aspects of digging, observing, and such, can be more effectively learned in the field.

This disagreement is well illustrated in differing views of what should be included in a final excavation publication. The first view would insist that the goal is to report as accurately and completely as possible what the excavator did, what was found, and its precise content. The publication should avoid interpretations, which should be left to specialists in anthropology, sociology, biology, geology, theology, the various dimensions of history, and the like. Those favoring a broader training would hope that the archaeologist’s background and firsthand contact with the material would put him in the best position to draw historical conclusions and to evaluate critically the conclusions of other technical specialists. Those who espouse this viewpoint argue that archaeologists who fail to understand their material historically have not acted as responsible archaeologists.

At his best the archaeologist must also be a historian. Many of the historical implications of archaeological material will never be made unless they are made by the excavator himself.

A recent final report has been criticized for including a chapter considering what implications the archaeological material had for the character and origins of the people that produced the material. While the critic thought that such considerations should be consigned to an article in a learned journal, the author of the report felt his task as an archaeologist would have been unfulfilled, had such considerations been ignored.

An ideal background for a Palestinian archaeologist would obviously include the best of both kinds of training—plus development of skills in other areas besides. The list of subjects to be examined or mastered is all too formidable: study of the methodology of the archaeological process from digging to publication, mastery of the typological development of pottery and other artifacts in Palestine and related 028material in the Near East and beyond, a thorough background in the history and archaeology of Palestine and its neighbors, a knowledge of a group of Semitic languages and their relations, with special attention to palaeography, acquaintance with current language, custom, and culture in Palestine and the Near East. Even with thorough grounding and firsthand acquaintance in all these areas, a person might turn out to be a dismal failure as an excavation director.

Among additional indispensible qualifications are administrative and organizational skills, ability to work effectively with people, discretion in dealing with experts and their findings, and ability to write lucidly. A scholar with a brilliant comprehension of Palestine’s history, archaeology, and languages is not necessarily a comparably skilled organizer and administrator. In fact, it would seem a fair judgment to estimate that very few of the brilliant Palestinologists have had the requisite organizational and administrative ability to bring a large excavation to successful fruition. The brilliant mind is likely to be determined to control the minute details of the excavation and its interpretation, and get lost in such detail. A common administrative failure is not organizing for final publication. So many digs expend all their money and energy in the field, the staff disperses, and little or nothing is done about publication, until perhaps a decade later the excavator, having failed to organize his staff for publication, gets out a disappointing final report.

The path of Palestinian archaeology is littered with digs and diggers who fell by the wayside because of personal contentions and squabbles. A large part of these may be assigned to poor administrative leadership in such matters as accepting on dig staff persons who cannot adjust to camp life, duplication in assignment of responsibilities, dictatorial manners and procedures, lack of an adequate network of communication. Larger summer excavations are sometimes personal relations powderkegs. Professors fly to the Near East one day and the next supervise excavation in the hot sun for eight hours. If they are new supervisors, they have to learn the procedures and methods of digging while they try to get laborers who understand little or no English to employ these methods. Even the best of preparations leaves some staff with frayed emotions, and after weeks of bearing the heat of the day and mosquitoes of the night, personal explosions are bound to occur. At worst, excavations fall apart and disband. Such conditions require an excavator to be a skilled leader and cultivator of good human relations.

An excavation leader must also understand the pertinent issues and topics of conversation in a number of disciplines linked to the interpretation of his archaeological results. These disciplines include Biblical studies, comparative religion, anthropology, anatomy, art, sculpture, paleobiology, paleobotany, geology, zoology, geography, ecology, meteorology, ceramics, architecture, and even ballistics, conchology, and the like. He must be able to interpret the chemical analyses of his finds, radiocarbon and other datings, petrographic analyses, and descriptions of weaving. He must be able to consult with his surveyor, architect, and photographer on improving their results, should these prove substandard. He must have sufficient background to appreciate the problems of these experts, understand the kinds of things their efficient operation demand of the excavation, have a feel for their relative expertise, and be capable of critically evaluating their findings, though in certain instances this will be beyond his competence.

These requirements demand an almost impossible versatility, but the final qualification, ability to write, is perhaps the most difficult to find in skilled field archaeologists. 029Successful field archaeologists must have something of a sense of adventure, enjoyment of the outdoors, exhilaration at the opportunity of rallying a staff to a challenge, eager anticipation of important finds. Such a milieu is about as far as possible from the day after day plodding through records and reports and potsherds in a dusty study trying to write up excavation results. Archaeologists who rise to both situations with equal zeal are few and far between, and yet without the plodding on to publication, the archaeologist becomes guilty of destroying forever important archaeological and historical material.

If we are to mention a third embarrassment in discussing with a young enthusiast how to become an archaeologist, it is lack of adequate college and university programs for developing the skilled and well-rounded excavator just described. American undergraduates looking toward an archaeological career are too often involved in an anthropology major that is more likely to be inbred than to display interdisciplinary innovation. I know of no undergraduate program that concerns itself with the broad spectrum of skills that a future archaeologist should be gaining as an undergraduate, though some curricula provide enough flexibility for the student to plan such a program on his own initiative.

Graduate school prospects are no less dismal. I know of no program anywhere where it is possible to undertake a program providing both the requisite methodological skills for the excavator and the pertinent historical and linguistic skills required for adequate interpretation of Palestinian archaeological materials, to say nothing of contributions to the other skills indispensable for success as an excavator.

To get the most desirable background, the student will have to plan his own program and include study at other institutions beyond his degree program. He might select as the institution for his degree program either one with the broadest offerings in Near East backgrounds and linguistics or one where he can work with a respected Palestinian archaeologist, assuring that his training includes adequate field experience.

I should acknowledge that the qualifications for a Palestinian archaeologist described here are more ideal than practical. What has been said is only to encourage talented young people to begin planning their educational programs early if they ever intend to be the broadly trained leaders archaeologists should be.

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Not Too Late to Dig This Summer

It’s still not too late to participate in an excavation this summer.

Prof. Moshe Dothan and his team of archaeologists will be digging at ancient Akko from June 20 through July 29 and will accept volunteers for periods of as little as two weeks.

This season’s effort will be directed principally to deepening the existing area of excavation on the tell to the main periods of Phoenician, Israelite and Canaanite settlement. An effort will also be made to detail the relationship between Akko and Egypt already reflected in cuneiform tablets excavated in previous seasons.

For further information, write Prof. Dothan at the Center for Maritime Studies, University of Haifa, Mt. Carmel, Haifa, Israel—or just show up at Tell Akko. Picks provided at the site to all hands.

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Aharoni Dies

Yohanan Aharoni, leader of the Tel Aviv Institute of Archaeology, one of Israel’s most prominent archaeologists, and a contributor to the BAR has died of cancer at the age of 56. Aharoni led excavations at Beer-Sheva, Arad and Ramat Rachel. His most recent book The Arad Inscriptions, published in Hebrew just months before his death, won the Ben-Zvi award. A memorial to Aharoni by his colleague Professor Anson F. Rainey will appear in a forthcoming issue of the BAR. (See “Yohanan Aharoni—The Man and His Work,” BAR 02:04.)

Archaeology is a love affair between an archaeologist and an ancient ruin. The ruin heap may be a shipwrecked galleon, an isolated stone circle in a vast desert, or the fallen walls of a fortress still uncovered by the sands of time. There are some 5,000 ruin heaps in ancient Palestine, within the modern states of Jordan and Israel. Only a few hundred have attracted excavation, mostly small soundings and emergency clearances. Some thirty sites have been the scene of large-scale excavations, but even at these, much remains to be dug. This leaves some 98% of its major ruins […]