The story of the Dead Sea Scrolls is full of intrigue: an extraordinary desert discovery, a mysterious cult, wars both ancient and modern, a treasure hunt, and an international affair.
Between Jerusalem and the west coast of the Dead Sea, amid the rocky mountains, scorched by the sun of the Judean Desert, over the waters of the world’s saltiest lake, there are few signs of life. Any fish that is swept here by the current of the Jordan River swiftly dies. Once it was called the Sea of Sodom, for it was believed that in its depths lay the ruins of a city leveled by God. Land animals somehow get by. Arabian leopards lived here long ago; now all you see is the occasional Nubian ibex, viper, or a hopping sand partridge. Over the wasteland fly birds with various names: fan-tailed ravens; Arabian babblers; barn swallows. Humans did not survive easily here, and perhaps that is why the local caves were favored by old hermits. Today the only inhabitants are nomadic Bedouin tribes. It turns out, however, that this has not always been the case. The ruins of an ancient settlement were discovered in the nineteenth century on a marl terrace, a mile or so from the Dead Sea shore. So far scientists have no definitive answer as to who lived there.
Through Fences and Over the Ocean
One day in 1947, three shepherds from the Ta’amire tribe—Muhammad az-Zib (or edh-Dhib), Jum’a Muhammad, and Khalil Musa—were wandering just north of these ruins. They had lost sight of one of their goats. Muhammad noticed it had run into a cave in the mountainside, so he dashed over, grabbed a rock, and threw it inside to scare the animal. Instead of a frightened bleat, the boy heard the clatter of a clay pot smashing. As he entered the cave, the shapes of ceramic jugs danced before his eyes in the gloom. Some of the vessels were destroyed; others sealed and untouched. He opened one of them; inside was a scroll wrapped in canvas.
The Bedouin were no strangers to archaeological finds—they lived near to the ancient site of Qumrān and often helped archaeologists. Digs had been conducted in the settlement since the mid-nineteenth century. The first was carried out in 1851 by Félicien de Saulcy, and others followed him. The boys, and the adults with whom they shared the news, were well aware of how valuable their find could be. The scrolls of Cave 1, as this first cave came to be known, made their way to Bethlehem, into the hands of an Armenian antiquities dealer named Kando. He was apparently interested enough in the Bedouins’ find to try his luck and soon began exploring the caves in the Qumrān area. For the time being, the seven mysterious manuscripts stayed with him.
News of the discovery eventually reached a famous Jewish archaeologist, Eleazar Sukenik. Born in the Russian Empire, in Belostok (today’s Białystok in Poland), the scholar’s accomplishments included founding the Department of Archaeology at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. Yet getting to the manuscripts in 1947 was no easy task: the British Mandate for Palestine had ended, Jerusalem was divided, and relations between Jews and Arabs were strained to breaking point. Sukenik arranged to meet Kando’s son at the entrance to the military zone at the border of Jerusalem. The archaeologist received a fragment of the scrolls through an opening in the fence. He needed only one glance to know he had to take the risk and travel to Bethlehem. Despite his family’s protests, he set off. It was worth it. He managed to avoid the dangers, and he got his hands on three manuscripts: Hymns, The War Scroll, and Isaiah (or Isaiah b). Their study occupied him for the rest of his life.
The remaining four—Isaiah (or Isaiah a; also 1 Qlsaa), a commentary to Pesher on Habakuk, the Genesis Apocryphon, and the Community Rule—were purchased by the Metropolitan of the Syrian Orthodox Church in Jerusalem, Athanasius Yeshue Samuel, also known as Mar Samuel. He tried to expand the collection, reaching out to some Bedouins who could supply him with more scrolls. When, however, the nomads came to the Armenian District in Jerusalem, they were turned away at the gates of the St. Mark Monastery where Mar Samuel resided. They did not look dignified enough to cross the threshold and come inside. The Metropolitan did attempt to explain that there had been a misunderstanding, but he received no second chance. Perhaps this was fortunate, because he then took all four of his manuscripts abroad.
A few years later, they reappeared on the other side of the world. On June 1, 1954, The Wall Street Journal ran the following ad: “Biblical manuscripts dating back to at least 200 BC are for sale. This would be an ideal gift to an educational or religious institution by an individual or group. Box F 206.” The object of the transaction was the four scrolls Mar Samuel had brought to the USA, and the Metropolitan himself wrote the ad. Only one person responded. The lack of offers did not mean it had failed to arouse interest. Hershel Shanks, founder of the Biblical Archaeology Society and author of Understanding the Dead Sea Scrolls, stresses that these scrolls were found in Jordan and illegally imported, with neither the knowledge or consent of the state. They were undoubtedly a treasure, but a fairly problematic one.
The only person who would take the risk of causing an affair was Sukenik’s son Jigael Jadin, a high-ranking officer in the Israeli army, who eventually abandoned a military career to pursue archaeology, like his father before him. When he found out about the ad, he realized two things. First: he had to have those scrolls. Second: he could not purchase them himself. The priest could recognize him and refuse to sell them. Making an official transaction with a representative of the State of Israel could have gotten Mar Samuel in trouble with Jordan. Talks thus went through professional negotiators, a friend of Jadin’s taking part in the process. Hershel Shanks suspects, however, that Samuel was aware of the whole deception. He knew that only the Israelis would have decided to purchase the troublesome treasure. And like Jadin, he knew that it could not take place through official channels.
The transaction succeeded: all seven scrolls found in Qumrān ended up in Israeli hands and are presently in the Israel Museum in Jerusalem.
Letter by Letter
At the same time that the Jewish archaeologists were conducting their studies, digs were underway in Qumrān. More manuscripts were being found, more caves were being discovered—and inside, new scroll fragments. They were collected in the Palestine Archaeological Museum (today the Rockefeller Archaeological Museum) in East Jerusalem. Jordan, which supervised the museum’s creation in those tempestuous times, agreed to have an international team work on reconstructing the texts, under the guidance of the museum’s director, Roland de Vaux—a French Dominican and the director of the École Biblique (the French School of Biblical and Archaeological Research, the oldest Catholic learning institution in Jerusalem).
De Vaux had been living in Jerusalem since 1934 and first took part in the archaeological digs in Qumrān in 1951. Though the intention was to make the study group international, it had no representative of Israel or the Jewish people in general. It was claimed that De Vaux was antisemitic, yet the truth is that, whatever his own views, he simply could not have invited any Israelis to take part. The team was operating with the support of the Jordanian Department of Antiquities, and owing to the political climate of the time they would not have consented to a representative of Israel joining their group. De Vaux was thus joined by John M. Allegro and John Strugnell from the UK, Jean Starcky and Maurice Baillet from France, and Frank Cross from the USA. Yet it was a Pole who was regarded as the outstanding specialist—a priest nominated for the job by France, Józef Tadeusz Milik. He knew ten languages fluently, including five ancient ones, and he worked through more of the scrolls than any other team member. Time magazine called him the “fastest man with a fragment.” Cross recalled that Milik had a marvelous sense of humor, and his robes (which he gave up in 1969 after getting married) were always streaked with ash, as he liked to work on the scrolls with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
The research cemented the scholars’ friendship. They also spent time together outside the “scrollery” (at the Palestine Archaeological Museum), conversing over wine and going on trips. Though the work was surely satisfying, it could also be frustrating and laborious. The majority of the manuscripts did not survive intact. Sometimes a whole cave had to be combed to find a scrap the size of a fingernail, stripping the layers of sand and rock millimeter by millimeter. The uncovered fragments had to be deciphered, even though the writing was often unlike what the scholars knew from other ancient texts, and there was a wide field of interpretation. All this meant a near forty-year wait for the publication of the scrolls’ contents, in 1991.
Altogether, archaeologists managed to find around eight hundred scrolls, of which only twelve were fully intact. The manuscripts were scattered between eleven caves. For instance, in Cave 4, fragments of five hundred scrolls were found, while the finds in Caves 5 to 10 were less impressive. In Cave 11 they found the famous Temple Scroll, which was later uncovered by Israeli soldiers during the Six-Day War in 1967 under the floorboards in the home of the antiquarian Kando. Most of the manuscripts were written on goat or sheep skin or papyrus (only one, The Copper Scroll, was engraved in metal) in Hebrew and Aramaic, though some were in Greek. The oldest manuscript dates to 250 BCE, further back than the settlement in Qumrān, which is estimated to have been founded in 125 BCE–68 CE (though some theories claim the local civilization came about in 700–586 BCE).
Time passed, and work on the scrolls did not advance. This meant that, despite the lack of progress, De Vaux’s teams still had exclusive access to the manuscripts. The standstill was so pronounced that the fragments were moved from the scrollery to the cellars of the Palestine Archaeological Museum. In 1967, during the Six-Day War, the museum was captured by Israeli soldiers, who promised they would not interfere in the team’s work. The scientists were meant to carry on as before: they shared out the manuscripts, and, once assigned, the text was meant to remain in the “owner’s” hands until their research was complete.
The team’s procrastination caused an uproar in academia. They were accused of preventing other scholars from having access to the scrolls. Later, things got even more serious. One of the Brits, Allegro, believed Jesus was foreshadowed in the Messiah mentioned in the manuscripts, which would have meant that the Qumrān community had practiced an early form of Christianity. De Vaux and others opposed this thesis, accusing him of defending the exceptionality of Christianity, in particular its “official” narrative, and concealing evidence to oppose this. When John Strugnell replaced De Vaux as head of the team, he announced that work would be completed by 1996.
Yet before the fiftieth anniversary of the discovery of the scrolls rolled around, an unexpected event occurred. On September 21, 1991, William Moffett of Huntington Library in California published photographs of the manuscripts. It turned out there were copies stored in the institution’s safe, one of the extra versions deposited in several places around the world, just in case something were to happen to the originals in Jerusalem.
Just Like the Movies
In 1981, ten years before the manuscripts were published, Steven Spielberg’s Raiders of the Lost Ark hit movie theaters. It was a spectacular success; audiences loved the story of archaeologist and adventure seeker Indiana Jones. The fearless hero in a fedora and leather jacket, whip in hand, was searching for the Ark of the Covenant, a chest of great power, which held the tablets of the Ten Commandments. When Vendyl Jones (1930–2010), bible scholar, archaeologist, and Qumrānist, found out about the film with Harrison Ford, he concluded that Philip Kaufman, co-writer of the script, must have been inspired by his story. It is hard to say if this was true, but undoubtedly both the real-life and fictional Joneses had more in common than their name.
The real Jones was fascinated by the story of the Ark of the Covenant and the Tabernacle (or the Tent of the Congregation, the traveling temple of the ancient Israelites). He and his family moved to Israel, where he began research on the Copper Scroll. He believed this find was not only unique for the material it was carved on. Jones claimed that the Copper Scroll was the only one from Qumrān not based on fiction—that it was a list of sixty-four places where treasure was hidden. Ignoring protests from De Vaux and Milik, who believed the list was simply part of a folktale, he began his search. Allegro, who had translated the scroll into English, backed him up. Jones believed there was a secret passageway in the Judean Desert leading from Jerusalem to the Dead Sea shore. It was by this route that the Israelites had carried away the treasures of the Temple of Solomon around 587 BCE to keep them from falling into Babylonian hands. These included objects that were found in the Ark of the Covenant (manna vessels, anointing oil, Aaron’s staff), a chest with the gifts of the Philistines, and the breastplate of the high priest, encrusted with twelve precious stones, as well as two hundred tons of gold and silver.
Jones may not have found the Ark, but his search was not in vain. With the help of scholars and volunteers, he found a cave that he thought was named in the Copper Scroll, the Cave of the Column, and inside he found a substance which, upon examination, proved to be anointing oil and incense. These may have indeed been the treasures of the Temple of Solomon, yet, owing to the thousands of years that elapsed before their discovery, we will probably never know for sure.
Worship in the Desert
Some theories say the scrolls were the library of the ancient inhabitants of Qumrān. Yet we know little about them and nothing is certain. Roland de Vaux believed they were a society of hermits living in celibacy and that women were forbidden to enter the village grounds. Vendyl Jones disagreed, pointing to the uncovered graves of women and children. The problem is that, out of the two hundred burial sites that have been found, only a few contained the remains of women.
Aside from their lifestyle, it is also unclear what the origin of the community might have been. They are generally referred to as the “Qumrān sect.” We know that the rules for living among them were described in one of the scrolls, the Community Rule. The Qumrān celebrated holidays much like the Jews of Jerusalem (e.g., Yom Kippur), but on different dates. The manuscripts also speak of a ritual similar to baptism and a ceremony with bread and wine recalling the Last Supper. This was probably what inclined Edmund Wilson to hypothesize that an early form of Christianity was practiced on the shores of the Dead Sea.
Eleazar Sukenik, however, had a different concept: he pointed to the Essenes. This Jewish religious movement was active from 152 BCE to 70 CE (which would chronologically overlap with the Qumrān settlement). Its members, like the community described in the scrolls, practiced communal property. John the Baptist could have been an inhabitant of Qumrān brought up among the Essenes, as may be indicated by his stay in the desert and his garb. Furthermore, the place where Jesus was baptized is found near the settlement. According to the historian Flavius Josephus, whose writings are the best source of knowledge about this sect, the celibate Essenes did take in and raise children. Hershel Shanks also mentions the descendants of Zadok, the first priest of the Temple in Jerusalem. When they were driven from town by the Maccabees, they are said to have settled in the desert.
Yet none of these theories are certain. Though seventy years have passed since the first scrolls were found, it is still not known who recorded them, who gathered them, and who put them in the rocky desert caves. We cannot estimate how large a portion of them has been reconstructed or if it has been done correctly. One thing, however, is sure: “These discoveries show that Christianity is not as exceptional as was once thought,” says Bible scholar Marcin Majewski. “It conforms with a movement in ancient Judaism.”
The scholars also tried to reach az-Zib, the Bedouin goat shepherd who, according to Kando, discovered the treasure. He was never to be found. They did track down a few men from the Ta’amire tribe, but their stories did not add up. Does this mean there was never a goat in the cave or a fortuitous stone throw? Who, then, truly did find the first scrolls, and did all of them indeed reach the scholars? This we may never know.
Translated from the Polish by Soren Gauger