Archaeological Views: A Lucky Discovery Complicates Life

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As an archaeologist, I am often asked, “What is the best thing you’ve ever found?” Since 2011, when I began a new excavation project at the ancient Jewish village of Huqoq in Israel’s Galilee, that question has been easy to answer. Our excavations are bringing to light a monumental, Late Roman (fifth-century C.E.) synagogue building paved with stunning mosaics, including rare depictions of Samson and the first historical scene ever discovered decorating an ancient synagogue.^a

These discoveries have complicated my life in unexpected ways, some of them good, and some not-so-good. On the good side: The mosaics are truly spectacular and exciting and have attracted much media attention and interest. On the not-so-good side: The excavations have become a much longer-term project than I originally planned, and the cost of uncovering and conserving the mosaics has far exceeded our original budget, so that I must scramble to find new sources of funding each season.

One unexpected consequence of our discoveries at Huqoq is the impact they have had on my professional relationships. Because the mosaics have received extensive media coverage, for the first time in my career I find myself in the uncomfortable position of having to protect material that I am excavating from poaching, by which I mean publication or dissemination by others without my permission. This includes not only nonspecialists who visit us during the dig, but other archaeologists and even members of my own team. As a result, no one except my husband (who is a professional photographer and our dig photographer) is allowed to take photos at the site. Furthermore, I ask that participants on the excavation refrain from disseminating information about our discoveries on social media during the season—a request with which everyone has graciously complied. On the other hand, I have taken care to publish images of the mosaics after the end of each season, thereby making them accessible to other scholars and the public almost immediately (except for one unique mosaic discovered in 2014 that we are now studying and preparing for publication).

Some of my Israeli colleagues have asked why I release images of the mosaics at all; why not wait until after the excavations end and the final publication is ready? My reasons are practical. Four seasons of excavations at Huqoq have brought to light only part of the synagogue’s east aisle. It will be years before the entire synagogue has been uncovered. If the project was only a year or two long, it might be feasible to hold on to the images until the final publication is ready. But the instantaneous nature of social media makes it virtually impossible to keep the images from being disseminated in the long term, and it would be unfair to withhold them from scholars and the public. Furthermore, releasing images of the mosaics at the end of each season allows me to control the information that is made public while ensuring the accuracy of its content.

Furthermore, my Israeli colleagues have also wondered why we continue to excavate the synagogue slowly and deliberately, square by square, instead of rapidly exposing the entire building with its mosaics. The reason is simple: My goal is to excavate the site according to the best archaeological practices, which means carefully documenting the remains of all periods, including the 19th–20th-century village overlying the synagogue. The mosaics are incidental to my research goals, which are to date the synagogue on the basis of the archaeological evidence (i.e., datable artifacts such as pottery and coins found under the floors and in the foundations of the building) and to establish a typology and chronology of the local Late Roman and Byzantine pottery using material from stratified occupation levels (mostly from the ancient village, part of which we are also excavating). Furthermore, Huqoq is not a salvage excavation. The mosaics have been there for more than 1,600 years. There is no rush to expose them all at once. Archaeology is destructive, as whatever is excavated is destroyed in the process, and it is not an exact science because the experiment cannot be replicated. We only get one chance to dig something up—with no possibility of reversing errors—and therefore I want to try to get it right, both in terms of excavating 075 carefully and properly and retrieving the maximum amount of information.

Another consequence of our discoveries is that I have had to become accustomed to the fact that my professional identity is now bound up with the mosaics. As odd as it sounds, this has been a difficult adjustment for me, for the following reasons. I have been involved in archaeology for four decades, during which time I have published numerous 076 books and articles on various topics, including the archaeology of Jerusalem, Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls, ancient pottery (the topic of my Ph.D. dissertation), ancient synagogues, Diaspora Judaism in the Roman world, and the Roman army in the East. I have participated in more than 20 excavations in Israel and Greece, including codirecting the 1995 excavations in the Roman siege works at Masada. Yet, literally overnight, these four decades of work have been overshadowed by the Huqoq mosaics. Of course, the mosaics are an amazing, spectacular and important discovery. But at the same time, their discovery is a by-product of my research goals, so it feels odd when colleagues congratulate me for the mosaics. It is true that I deserve credit for deciding to dig at Huqoq, organizing and directing the project, and finding the spot where the synagogue is located. But the discovery of the mosaics is pure serendipity, as this type of synagogue building usually is paved with flagstone floors. Although a couple of similar synagogues nearby were paved with mosaics, hardly anything has survived of their floors. So I have had to adjust to becoming known for what is essentially a lucky discovery. Now, after four seasons of excavations at Huqoq, I have fully embraced the mosaics and the excitement that they continue to generate among members of my team, the scholarly community and the general public. Along the way I am learning a lot of new things—not only about synagogues and mosaics—but about how to deal with a discovery of this magnitude.

As an archaeologist, I am often asked, “What is the best thing you’ve ever found?” Since 2011, when I began a new excavation project at the ancient Jewish village of Huqoq in Israel’s Galilee, that question has been easy to answer. Our excavations are bringing to light a monumental, Late Roman (fifth-century C.E.) synagogue building paved with stunning mosaics, including rare depictions of Samson and the first historical scene ever discovered decorating an ancient synagogue.a These discoveries have complicated my life in unexpected ways, some of them good, and some not-so-good. On the good side: The mosaics are truly […]