A Description of the Building of Sargon II's City in the Book of Judith

Judith Verses 1:2-4: Fortifying (Building) a City

Commentators on the book of Judith, I [Damien F. Mackey] find, do not tend to linger much over this little passage, which reads:

"He built walls around Ecbatana with hewn stones three cubits thick and six cubits long; he made the walls seventy cubits high and fifty cubits wide. At its gates he raised towers one hundred cubits high and sixty cubits wide at the foundations. He made its gates seventy cubits high and forty cubits wide to allow his armies to march out in force and his infantry to form their ranks".

It might not be surprising that any commentator who considers the Book of Judith to be other than a genuine history would show little interest in so dry an account. Charles, for instance, does not even comment on it. Whilst Dumm takes it entirely as allegorical:[1] “The “wall” and its gateway are of such fantastic proportions that one may assume the author merely wishes to suggest an image of massive power and permanence”. Moore has written along somewhat similar lines as has Dumm here, looking for a metaphorical meaning in these verses, though in the process comparing the Book of Judith account to the actual Median city of Ecbatana. He thus, unlike Dumm, does supply also some interesting factual detail:[2]

"… surrounded … with walls … seventy-five feet wide. Although scholars have often compared the walls of Ecbatana with those of other great cities, such as Babylon (seventy-five feet wide [Herodotus Hist. 1.178]) or Nineveh (wide enough for three chariots to drive abreast on it [Diodorus Siculus, Historical Library 2.3]), to make such comparisons is really to miss the author’s point: while Ecbatana’s grandeur and massiveness attested to the almost superhuman power of Nebuchadnezzar, who was able to conquer such a city, his army was still unable to take insignificant Bethulia, a town protected only by the God of Israel (so Steinmann, p. 48).
All the prodigious dimensions in vv 2-4 are totally fictitious, the invention of the author to evoke an atmosphere of grandeur. To date, no such protective walls have been found at Ecbatana, although, in fairness, it must be noted that because the modern city of Hamadan now covers it, Ecbatana has not been scientifically excavated by archaeologists. On the other hand, other great Persian cities, such as Persepolis, have been excavated thoroughly; and no such protective walls have been found there, either".

The whole thing though takes on a far deeper significance if one regards the Book of Judith, as I do, as being a true history, set in the era of king Hezekiah of Judah, with the city of “Ecbatana” therefore to be looked for in Mesopotamia, not in ‘Persia’.
When scanning these three verses (Judith 1:2-4) in translation above, one finds a heavy use of the pronoun “he”, but not one reference to a personal name. However, it is generally presumed that the king doing the building (fortifying) of this “Ecbatana” is Arphaxad, considering that the latter had just, in the previous verse (1:1), been named as ruler “over the Medes in Ecbatana”.
Such a connection, though, I think is quite unlikely to have been the case in reality. We saw in Chapter 7 (p. 179) that Merodach-baladan may have been, even in his composite form of [I] and [II], a very modest builder indeed. Whereas the building work described in verses 2-4 is on a massive scale,[3] prompting Moore to label it all as “totally fictitious”.

The king who was doing all the magnificent building work in Mesopotamia at this time was in fact Sargon II (Nebuchadnezzar), and the city then being worked on was his pride and joy, Dur-Sharrukin, and not Babylon. Dur-Sharrukin’s foundations had been laid half a dozen years ago (Year 6), and, four years later (Year 10), the king had stayed at home to work on the decoration of its palaces when his Turtan had marched to the west. The work must have been well advanced by now (Year 12) and the whole project would be completed and dedicated in a further half dozen years.
The Book of Judith chapter 1 is all about Nebuchadnezzar, not Arphaxad, and this is no doubt an intentional aspect of the story’s drama, to show what a mighty foe Israel was up against. Moore had referred above to “the almost superhuman power of Nebuchadnezzar”. Arphaxad is just a necessary ‘parenthesis’. Confusion may have arisen over the fact that the historical ‘Nebuchadnezzar’ could boast two mighty cities: namely, Nineveh (as Sennacherib) - called “the great city of Nineveh” in Judith 1:1 - and Dur-Sharrukin (as Sargon II) - called “Ecbatana” in 1:2-4. Roux, unaware that Sargon II was Sennacherib (who had initially favoured Nineveh) contrasts Dur-Sharrukin instead with Calah (Kalhu):[4]

"As a war-chief Sargon liked to live in Kalhu (Nimrud), the military capital of the empire, where he occupied, restored and modified Ashurnasirpal’s palace. But moved by incommensurable pride, he soon decided to have his own palace in his own city. In 717 B.C. were laid the foundations of ‘Sargon’s fortress’, Dûr-Sharrukîn, a hitherto virgin site twenty-four kilometres to the north-east of Nineveh, near the modern village of Khorsabad …".

It would not surprise if Dur-Sharrukin were quickly forgotten, and later easily confused with some better known city such as Babylon. For, as Lloyd has explained:[5] “If … we turn to Khorsabad, we find a city built, occupied and abandoned in the space of a single generation”. I think that such a case of forgetfulness might have applied to the city described as being ‘built’ in the Book of Judith 1:2-4, and thus I suggest that the multiple usages of the pronoun “he” in the translation of these verses all refer to Nebuchadnezzar, rather than to (the usual view) Arphaxad; that the only reference to the city ruled by the latter is in the case of the first mention of “Ecbatana”. The second reference to “Ecbatana”, immediately following it, is actually therefore a reference to the king of Assyria’s jewel city, Dur Sharrukin. The amended text (1:1-4) I propose, should read something like this:

It was the twelfth year of the reign of Nebuchadnezzar, who ruled over the Assyrians in the great city of Nineveh. (In those days Arphaxad ruled over the [Chaldeans] in [Babylon]). He [Nebuchadnezzar] built walls around [Dur-Sharrukin] … he made the walls seventy cubits high … he raised towers …. He made its gates seventy cubits high and forty cubits wide to allow his armies to march out in force and his infantry to form their ranks. Then King Nebuchadnezzar made war against Arphaxad in the great plain ….

Admittedly, the text as it reads here abruptly juxtaposes “Ecbatana” in the first and second mention – which I am arguing actually intend two different cities. So much so in fact that I am inclined to think, borrowing that phrase from Moore (refer back to p. 27), that “something is now missing …”. On the positive side, there does now seem to be a consistency in the fact that this belligerent king of Assyria, having purposely had the gates of his new city made tall enough and wide enough to accommodate the exit of his massed army, should then (in the next sentence, so to speak) make war against his foe.
Later though, in 1:14, “Ecbatana” resorts back to its first meaning of Arphaxad’s city, which Nebuchadnezzar successfully assaults.
That the walls and gates of Dur-Sharrukin were indeed formidable, we might glean from these accounts of their measurements by Lloyd, with which I shall juxtapose relevant portions of the Book of Judith:[6]

"The city which [Sargon II] laid out took the form of a square, with sides measuring rather more than a mile each, and was surrounded by towered walls with seven gateways. …".

[Nebuchadnezzar] built walls around Ecbatana … At its gates he raised towers.

"The city walls, which were over 20 m thick, were revetted at their base with dressed stonework up to a height of 1.10 m. Behind this facing, undressed stone was roughly laid to form a base for the brick upper structure, which terminated in a crenellated parapet with stone merlons. … the palace platform had a facing of stone in blocks up to 2.7 m long, weighing as much as 23 tons apiece. …".

… walls … with hewn stones three cubits thick and six cubits long; he made the walls seventy cubits high and fifty cubits wide ….

The possibly meaningful measurements that can be compared here are (a) the length of the stone blocks, 2.7 metres long, according to Lloyd, and 6 cubits long according to Judith 1:2, and (b) the thickness (width?) of the city’s walls, over 20 metres thick, or 50 cubits wide. What however immediately complicates any attempted comparison are (i) the variations in measurements and (ii) the fact that the Book of Judith is obviously using round figures, not precise mathematical numbers. “Then, as now”, explains Moore,[7] “the standards of weights and measurements varied not only among the nations but also within the same nation, depending upon time, place, and circumstance”. The cubit, for instance, can vary in length from approximately 440 mm - 640 mm, with what Petrie has called the ‘eastern foot’ being, as he has written, “one-sixth longer than 21.6 [inches] i.e. 25.2” (640).[8] “At Khorsabad” he wrote earlier, which is the place of interest here, “there was a standard of 10.8 (276.8)”.[9] Berriman gives what he has called the “Assyrian Foot” as 329 mm.[10]

And Berriman gives the “Assyrian cubit” as 494 mm.[11]

Of course a third complicating factor is that we do not know (iii) to which actual cubit the author of Judith is referring.
Anyway, taking the ‘Assyrian cubit’ of 494 mm as an approximation, and multiplying it by the Book of Judith’s “six cubits”, we get (494 x 6 =) 2964 mm, or 2.9 metres, comparing favourably with Lloyd’s 2.7 metres for the length of the blocks. And, for the thickness of the walls, we then get (494 x 50 =) 24700 mm, or 24.7 metres, as compared with Lloyd’s “over 20 m thick”. What this does indicate at least is that the Book of Judith has provided us with reasonable figures of measurement, that can indeed be applied to significant Mesopotamian cities, and are not merely fictitious or fantastic.

[1] Ibid.
[2] Op. cit, pp. 124-125.
[3] “The word ‘built’ corresponds to the Heb. banah, which may also have the meaning of repairing with the added notion of enlarging, cf. Jos 19:50; Jg 21:23 … ) …”. Leahy, op. cit, ibid.
[4] Op. cit, p. 315.
[5] The Archaeology of Mesopotamia, pp. 210-202. Emphasis added.
[6] Ibid, pp. 197, 203.
[7] Op. cit, p. 125, n. 2, with reference to O. Sellers’ ‘Weights and Measures’, IDB, IV, pp. 828-839.
[8] Measures and Weights, p. 7.
[9] Ibid, p. 6.
[10] Historical Metrology, p. 55.
[11] Ibid, p. 29.

Canonicity of Judith

Book of Judith Part of Catholic, but not Jewish, Canon

Hebrew Canon

“The book of Judith is not a part of the Hebrew canon. It is an “outside book” …”.[1] Moore gives his reasons for why he thinks the book was not accepted as canonical by the Rabbis, contrasting it here with the fate of the Book of Esther:[2]

The book of Esther had a long and difficult time attaining Jewish canonicity, but it finally did so. … Yet the book of Judith, which in its Semitic form had all the essentials of Palestinian Judaism (i.e., God, prayer, dietary scrupulousness, sacrifice, Temple, Jerusalem – none of which are [sic] even so much as mentioned in the MT of Esther …), was never admitted to the Palestinian canon, nor is the book known to have been present at Qumran.

… Judith may have been excluded from the Hebrew canon because the Rabbis, who were responsible for fixing the canon in the last stages of the canonizing process, disapproved of the book’s universalism, i.e., its accepting attitude toward the towns of Samaria and its approval of an Ammonite’s admittance into the Jewish faith (so Steinmann ….).

… There is genuine merit to Craven’s view that Judith was simply too radical a woman for the rabbis who fixed the Jewish canon to memorialize:

To accept the Book of Judith as a canonical book would be to judge the story holy and authoritative. And to judge the story of the woman Judith holy and authoritative could indeed have been deemed a dangerous precedent by the ancient sages. … she is faithful to the letter of the law but not restricted to traditional modes of behavior. … she fears no one or thing other than Yahweh. Imagine what life would be like if women were free to chastise the leading men of their communities, if they dared to act independently in the face of traumas, if they refused to marry, and if they had money and servants of their own. Indeed if they, like Judith, hired women to manage their households what would become of all the Eliezers of the world?

I suspect that the sages would judge that their communities simply could not bear too many women like Judith. The special genius of this story is that it survived and grew in popularity despite its treatment at the hands of the establishment. ….

Craven again, citing several commentators in support, will refer to “the often made claim that the Book of Judith represents one of the best examples of Jewish story-telling …”.[3]

Moore, with a quote from Orlinsky, now gives what he considers to be the most likely reason amongst those he has already mentioned as to why BOJ was not accepted into the Hebrew canon. And I would agree with his estimation here, though I would note at least also the apparent historical and geographical anomalies in the book:[4]

However, the most likely reason for Judith’s omission from the Hebrew canon is, as H. M. Orlinsky (Essays in Biblical, pp. 279-81) has noted, that the rabbis could not accept it because the book ran counter to their halakah … that a Gentile convert to Judaism had to be circumcised and baptized in order to become a Jew. … In other words, not only did Judith have Achior, an Ammonite, accepted into Judaism, which in itself ran counter to Deut 23:3 … but he was not baptized.

To canonize a book – that is, to make it officially a source of doctrine – when the doctrine did not conform to that of the canonizers, was too much to ask. The Book of Esther, with all its “faults”, offered nothing specific that violated Pharisee halakah. (p. 218)

Enslin, too, has focussed primarily upon the apparently irregular Achior-as-an-Ammonite situation, as the reason for BOJ’s not having become a part of the Hebrew canon, comparing - and contrasting - it with the unusual situation of Ruth:[5]

The author of the book relates that after the triumph of Judith, an officer in the camp of Holofernes, Achior, an Ammonite, “joined into the house of Israel”. According to the Pentateuch, “An Ammonite or a Moabite shall not enter into the assembly of Yahweh, even to the tenth generation shall none of them enter into the assembly of Yahweh forever” [Deuteronomy 23:4] …. If the book of Judith should gain acceptance into the Holy Scriptures, it would contradict the Pentateuchal laws. It is true that Ruth was a Moabite and she converted to Judaism, nevertheless the book of Ruth became a part of the Holy Scriptures. The sages, in order to reconcile the contradictory and opposing view between the book of Ruth and the Pentateuch, declared that the Pentateuchal prohibition regarding the Ammonite and the Moabite referred only to the male but not to the female …. Thus the book of Ruth could be very well accepted in the Hebrew canon.

He goes on to tell which Jewish sage it was who was of sufficient authority to have prevented canonical acceptance of BOJ: namely, Gamaliel:[6]

It is also true that sages during the Second Commonwealth encouraged proselytism regardless of race and no obstacles were placed against the Ammonites. A Mishne relates: “On that day, came Judah, an Ammonite proselyte, and stood before them in the Beth Hamidrash, and said to them, ‘May I enter into the community?’ Rabban Gamaliel said to him: ‘You are not allowed.’ Rabbi Joshua said to him: ‘You are allowed’.” … Thus we have to conclude that in the academy of Javneh there was a division of opinion among the sages regarding the acceptance of Ammonite proselytes. The opinion of Rabbi Joshua became the established law. The opinion of Rabban Gamaliel, however, was enough to keep the book of Judith from inclusion in the Hebrew Bible.

Enslin, continuing on with his discussion of Achior, now turns to a consideration of circumcision and baptism:[7]

Again, it is stated in the book of Judith that when Achior converted to Judaism, he was circumcised; it does not say that he was baptized. During the Second Jewish Commonwealth, the ritual of immersion was not required for conversion to Judaism. At the conclave of the year 65 CE, it was decreed that a proselyte must go through the rites of baptism in order to enter the Jewish community. … The fact that in the book of Judith it is stated that Achior became a proselyte by circumcision alone without baptism was enough to keep the book out of the Hebrew canon. If this book should be included in the Hebrew Bible, it would mean that the book of Judith was holy and authoritative; thus there would be a contradiction between the statement in Judith and the decree of the sages who maintained that baptism is a sine qua non.

As his final reasons for BOJ’s non acceptance into the Hebrew canon, Enslin will argue that the book was written too late for it to have been an ‘inspired’ text, and, moreover, it was written in the ‘diaspora’:[8]

The book of Judith was written in a late period, after the time of Antiochus Epiphanes, as we shall subsequently show. According to the rabbinic tradition, books written after the Persian period were not “inspired” … thus they could not be a part of the Hebrew Bible. Esther’s story was placed in the time of Ahasuerus, while the story of Judith was placed after the time of Antiochus Epiphanes [sic], long after prophecy ceased in Israel. Again, the book of Esther was written in Judaea, while the book of Judith was compiled in the diaspora, and that is also a good reason for its not being included in the Hebrew canon.

No books written in the diaspora were included in the Hebrew Bible.

Damien F. Mackey has already though, in Chapter 7 of his post-graduate thesis, A Revised History of the Era of King Hezekiah of Judah and its Background, begun to pave the way for a resolution to the Achior problem, which is apparently the most serious obstacle to the Book of Judith’s canonical acceptance,[9] by hinting at an identification of Achior with Ahikar, a nephew of Tobit, and hence a Naphtalian Israelite, not an Ammonite. He then discusses this Achior in more detail later in this chapter (e.g. pp. 46-47), along with the other matters raised by Enslin, of late authorship, and, supposedly written in the diaspora (e.g. pp. 58-59).

Catholic Canon

“Although the book did not form part of the Hebrew Canon”, as Leahy explains:[10]

… the [Catholic] Church considered it from the beginning as divinely inspired, having received it together with the other sacred books contained in the LXX. It was quoted with approbation by Clement of Rome (I Cor 55) and cited on an equality with other Scripture by Clement of Alexandria (Strom. 2, 7), Origen (De Orat. 13, 29; Hom. 9 on Jg; Hom. 19 on Jer.) and Ambrose (De Off. Min. 3, 13). The Councils of Hippo (A.D. 393) and Carthage (A.D. 397 and 419) enumerated it among the canonical books. St Augustine (De Doctrina Christiana 2, 8) had it on his list of sacred books.

And Dumm tells:[11] “[Judith] never came into the Hebr. Canon, but it was adopted for reading for the feast of Hannukah, and even Jerome [who did not accept the book as canonical] admitted that the work was “read” in the Church. Final recognition of its canonicity came with the Council of Trent”. Consequently, as Leahy explains (regarding the early C20th view):[12]

The vast majority of Catholic critics regard the book as a record of fact and they endeavour to answer the difficulties urged in the name of history against its accuracy. The arguments which they advance are the following: (a) Jewish and Christian tradition and all commentators prior to the sixteenth century regarded the book as historical; (b) the minute historical, geographical, chronological and genealogical details indicate a straightforward narrative of real events; (c) the author speaks of descendants of Achior being alive in his time (14:6), and a festival celebrated annually up to his day in commemoration of Judith’s victory (16:31). Those who uphold the historicity (or, at least, a historical nucleus) of the narration take the view that ‘Nabuchodonosor’ and ‘Arphaxad’ are pseudonyms disguising historical persons whose identity cannot be ascertained with certainty.

---

[1] M. Enslin, The Book of Judith, p. 24. Cf. Leahy, op. cit, ibid.

[2] Op. cit, pp. 86-87.

[3] Op. cit, p. 6 and n. 20.

[4] Op. cit, p. 87. “Halakah”, Moore notes, “is that body of Jewish Law in the Talmud which interprets and supplements the laws of the O.T”, n. 75.

[5] Op. cit, pp. 24-25.

[6] Ibid, p. 25.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid, pp. 25-26.

[9] Moore has allowed for the possibility of “a number of considerations” rather than simply “the [one major] reason why Judith was not included in the Jewish canon”. Ibid. His emphasis.

[10] Op. cit, ibid.

[11] Op. cit, ibid.

[12] Op. cit, ibid.

What's Missing from Your Bible? The Book of Judith

Taken from:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/956079/whats_missing_from_your_bible_the_book.html?cat=34

August 22, 2008
by
Michael Segers

Some Modern Versions of the Bible Include Judith, Some Do Not.

Most modern printings of the King James Version (or Authorized Version) of the Bible omit fourteen books that were included as the Apocrypha when the King James Version (also known as the Authorized Version) first appeared in 1611. Roman Catholics include eleven of those books in their
versions of the Bible, and other Christian groups give the Apocrypha various levels of regard, as you can read in my article on the Book of Tobit (link at end of article).

Another book of the Apocrypha, missing from most modern Protestant versions of the Bible, is the book of Judith, which tells the story of a young widow, who saves her town, Bethulia. She attracts the attention of Holofernes, the leader of the Assyrians, who are besieging her town. Judith gains his trust, but when he drinks too much and passes out, she cuts off his head. The Assyrians flee, and the siege of Bethulia is over.

The Book of Judith, like other books of the Apocrypha, is no longer found in the original Hebrew versions, only in Greek translations. Scholars say that there are phrases in the Greek that sound as if they were originally written in Hebrew, even though the Hebrew version no longer exists.

Judith is an intriguing person. Delilah, a gentile woman, led to the death of the Jewish hero Samson (Judges 16). Judith, on the other hand, is a Jewish woman (her name means Jewess) who kills the gentile hero Holofernes. Both women reveal a recurring Old Testament prejudice against women, who rely on outright deceit to accomplish their goals, even noble ones. Rachel, for example, in chapter 31 of Genesis, steals her father's household idols, then, sits on them and says that she cannot stand up (when her father is searching for them) because she is menstruating.

When a Revision of Ancient History Meets Conservative Academia

 by

 

Damien F. Mackey

 

In all honesty I would have to say that, generally speaking, I was fairly and helpfully served during my experience of writing two post-graduate theses at the University of Sydney (Australia) for the purpose of exposing the problems with the conventional system of ancient history and chronology. It was only at the end that matters become most unsatisfactory, as one can read further on.

 

- In the case of the first thesis completed in 1993, The Sothic Star Theory of the Egyptian Calendar, an MA by Research that was intended by me to be a critical and searching examination of the very foundations of the conventional chronology, I encountered only one case of blatant bias from an examiner. This was when the thesis was first submitted for marking. At the urging of a non-University colleague, I wrote a strong letter of complaint to the Dean of the Faculty of Arts, then Paul J. Crittenden, which was effective, as the latter informed me (letter of 23 December 1992) that the offending marker would no longer have any further part in the process. Moreover, my supervisor from the University’s History Department, Dr. Noel Weeks - though he was of an entirely conventionalist persuasion - persisted patiently throughout the entire writing of the thesis, ever offering his good advice and encouragement.

But it also needs to be said that all of the impetus, and the best ideas, for this thesis, originated outside the University.

Eventually the thesis was passed on both historical and scientific (archaeo-astronomical) grounds and I was buoyed by examiners’ comments that my “… critical analysis [was successful] when examining the opposite points of view. Indeed, most get a thrashing …”, and that the way now lay open for “a more acceptable alternative” model of history to be presented.

It was the latter task that really held the more interest for me.

However, as I had been again well advised by the non-University colleague, one needed first of all to come to grips with, and to refute, the text-book system. In relation to this notion of refutation, I was also boosted by my supervisor’s description of my thesis, in the end, as “irrefutable”.

 

But, as there was no further interest shown by the University after that, I looked elsewhere for getting my thesis and articles publicised, especially the Internet, where my articles began to be picked up by Johnny Zwick at the California Institute for Ancient Studies (www.specialtyinterests.net/).

I was also a co-founder of the Australian Marian Academy (name later enlarged by Cardinal Andrzej Maria Deskur, President Emeritus of the Pontifical Council for Social Communications, in the Vatican, to Australian Marian Academy of the Immaculate Conception), that had its own publications and Newsletter. And, although this Academy’s interests ranged far beyond a revision of ancient history, this latter study - particularly with its ramifications for biblical history - still held great fascination for all of the Academy’s members.

 

- The opportunity to write that “more acceptable alternative” model at post-graduate level came in the year 2000, when Professor Rifaat Ebied of the Department of Semitic Studies (later Hebrew, Biblical and Jewish Studies), invited me to write a PhD thesis on the era of king Hezekiah of Judah (c. 700 BC, conventional dating). I eagerly took up this opportunity because a pet project of mine, on which I had been working for many years, namely to establish the historicity of the pseudepigraphal Book of Judith, had resolved itself in this very era of Hezekiah. In other words the Judith incident, which I firmly considered to be historical, had occurred - as far as I was concerned - late in the reign of king Hezekiah. I now envisaged a huge project:-

 

Volume One of this new thesis would be a reconstruction of ancient history from c. 2000 BC down to the era of king Hezekiah of Judah in 700 BC; whilst-

Volume Two would show how the Book of Judith integrated into the era of this same king Hezekiah.

 

The results of this “truly Herculean synthesizing effort,” as one examiner called it, were mixed. As with the first submission of the previous thesis, this one too was

 

(a) passed by one examiner,

(b) given a mixed reception by another one, who insisted that much more work needed to be done, and

(c) failed by a third, who called it “a disaster and a sad one”.

 

Thankfully, for me, this last examiner would not be involved in the second marking of the thesis.

It was generally considered that my Judith material (Volume Two) was workable and that perhaps I should concentrate on that in its relationship to the era of king Hezekiah.

But I had initially intended to offer a new model of ancient history, as well as to establish the Book of Judith as historical. So, in the re-writing of the thesis, though this time I based myself far more firmly upon the era of king Hezekiah, I also deliberately included in the thesis title the “background” to Hezekiah’s era (thus A Revised History of the Era of King Hezekiah of Judah and its Background), thereby enabling for me to fan out, and to include history going back some two centuries or so prior to Hezekiah’s reign. This span also allowed me to tackle probably the three most knotty problems that the revision of history has so far encountered: namely,

 

(i) “The Assuruballit Problem” of the el Amarna period;

(ii) where to locate the long-reigning Ramses II in the revision; and

(iii) the almost unresolvable Third Intermediate Period.

 

All three problems (i-iii) were, as it happens, in range of the reign of king Hezekiah of Judah in my revised context.

In fact, I never ceased to be amazed, during my writing of this particular thesis, just how much important history, when revised, converges in this approximate era.

Now, it was with the second marking of this new thesis that my problems with the University of Sydney really began to become manifest. Despite two international examiners passing the thesis at Doctorate level, and also recommending that it, or parts thereof, be published, the Doctorate was not awarded due to the entirely negative (from the point of view of approval) marking of the “in-house” 3rd examiner, as well as the Assessor (4th examiner), who was later called in, and who completely took the side of the 3rd examiner.

A fuller treatment of this matter can be read in:

 

Damien F. Mackey's Defence of Post-Graduate Thesis

Against 3rd Examiner's Criticisms

 

https://www.academia.edu/3690102/Damien_F._Mackeys_Defence_of_Post-Graduate_Thesis_Against_3rd_Examiners_Criticisms

 

 

This defence was allowed by the Faculty of Arts (though, in the end - and I had fully anticipated this - it made not the slightest difference whatsoever).

Was the whole experiment worth while of running two theses of radical historical revision through conservative academia?

Yes, definitely, because it enabled me to write, at the highest level (the second at the most demanding PhD level), a brace of theses that rigorously tested the conventional system and found it wanting, and that then proceeded to create the basis for a new model.

However, because conventional academia moves so slowly as to be quite imperceptible, at least in this subject area, then I should advise fellow revisionists who might also be contemplating a University thesis on the subject to look elsewhere, to work independently of any conservative institutions.

 

An Interesting Additional Note:

 

Here is the furious reaction by the US examiner, art historian Professor Lewis M. Greenberg, to the assessment of my thesis by the Arts Faculty of the University of Sydney:

 

"I am distressed over your latest news [thesis result], except to say how sorry and angry I am over your plight. …. I would also say that [the University of Sydney’s Arts Faculty’s] behavior is unprecedented and unprofessional and you may quote me. Their actions are totally unacceptable to me and go beyond the groundrules for judging your degree worthiness. Once a majority of your examiners have approved the thesis, that should be it!! The University of Sydney will never be taken seriously so long as it continues this kind of nonsense. If there had been a tie, then I might understand the need to bring in an additional reader – but NOT under these circumstances! By their actions, the University of Sydney has impugned my reputation as well as that of the [other examiner, at Cambridge University]. UACCEPTABLE! – and you may quote me. At the least, both I and the [Cambridge examiner] should have been consulted and advised re the need to bring in an outside individual. Since this was not done, this “unofficial” individual [4th examiner] should carry no weight …. This is discrimination and a violation of the department’s fiduciary scholastic responsibility. The University of Sydney has made a mockery of the entire thesis process and turned your Ph.D doctorate into a farce. …. The Ph.D process has been sullied and all of this is only one more horrific footnote to that process. The fact that all this has been done AFTER A SECOND version of your thesis was submitted and judged makes this whole situation that much more odious. Why didn’t they do this after the first version was judged?…. I read and re-read the examiners’ comments (including my own). The negative [3rd] examiner was vile! He was merely showing off what HE knew. His comments were so pompous and arrogant that they were insulting to the two other readers as well. The graduate committee [University of Sydney Arts Faculty] is a farce as far as I am concerned. They don’t want you to get the degree, plain and simple. The rest is all shadow play …. Professor Ebied [thesis supervisor] is totally unprofessional. From day one, he has handled this entire matter (including your first go round) as some kind of novice. He never communicated with me even though he was here in Princeton and acts totally spineless. What an advisor he is! …".

A Reader's Indignant Response to Post-Graduate Thesis Marking

Maria Honey, a book publisher, who has taken a keen interest in the progress of my (Damien Mackey’s) post-graduate thesis, "A Revised History of the Era of King Hezekiah of Judah and its Background", has expressed her “incredulity and disappointment” at the fact that this thesis, although passed by two international examiners, with parts of it recommended for publishing by these, was rejected out of hand by a third (“in-house”) examiner and ultimately relegated to an MA status. What particularly infuriated Maria, as she says in her e-mail (16 March 2009), was the fact that the Assessor (or 4th examiner), who was later brought in to give a final verdict, had exhibited what Maria considered to be such “glib, facile and sloppy work, at no time making any specific reference to the thesis, or to the favourable examiners, but had fawningly agreed with the 3rd examiner”.
 

Maria’s indignant e-mail has prompted me to post up my complete defence of the thesis (see two previous posts), as invited by the Faculty of Arts (though to no avail), in which one can read the whole story of the marking of this thesis and can form one’s own opinion about the matter.

Comments on the "Recommendations of the Arts Faculty of the University of Sydney" Submitted by Damien F. Mackey Regarding the Latter’s PhD Thesis

Attention: The Dean
Faculty of Arts

31st March 2008

After waiting a full year, the second time round, since I had submitted my thesis for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, I was finally presented with the outcome of the long deliberations (your letter to me of 10 January, 2008). To this stage I have been awarded a Master of Arts only, and not the intended Doctor of Philosophy. Though the Arts Faculty has given me an opportunity “to comment on the foreshadowed resolution”.

Whilst I had been quite prepared to accept a fair overall decision I could not help but being struck, after reading the examiners’ four sets of comments (three examiners and an Assessor/4th examiner), by the complete lack of objectivity and independence of the Assessor, as it seemed ‘taking shelter entirely behind’ (to use the phrase of a colleague of mine) the comments of the unfavourable 3rd examiner, whose criticisms I also found to be quite one-sided and inadequate. And this despite the recommendations by two of the three examiners (the 1st and 2nd), that the doctorate ought to be awarded, and even that a large part of the thesis could be published.
I cannot accept this critical combination (3rd and 4th examiners) as being a valid assessment of my difficult and detailed thesis.

The Assessor’s decision, against awarding the doctorate, seemed to be based entirely on the views of the 3rd examiner, who had previously ruled in the negative. This is immediately commented upon by those who have now read the 4th examiner’s remarks. In fact the Assessor says as much in one of only two paragraphs, when writing:

"I fully agree with the detailed comments of the third examiner who has laid out the main weaknesses of the thesis, and they should be consulted for more detail on my position".

This Assessor did not in fact make even one specific allusion to any aspect of my thesis, nor to the comments of the two favourable examiners. Not once! The Assessor gave, apart from the paragraph already quoted, only one other (fairly large) paragraph that was critical of the thesis, in general terms, without any specific references whatsoever: e.g., “methodology utilized is flawed”; “not aware of up-to-date bibliography” (nothing specified); “has ignored major basic studies in field” (none mentioned); “treatment of ancient texts … is literal and naïve”; “does not ultilize tools such as dictionaries”; “does not regard or address questions of possible sources, genres … variants in different versions”; “arguments are irrational”; “conclusions … unsubstantiated and fanciful”. Compare these with the 3rd examiner’s very similar, general points, “argument … quite unbalanced and skewed”; “failure to incorporate some key primary sources”, “never appraised or weighed in terms of genre, accuracy …”, “vast majority of the argument was premised on a series of unproved ‘if’ statements”; “conclusions … not … congruent”.

The 3rd examiner had, in a total of 16 numbered paragraphs of criticism, offered only one remotely favourable paragraph (re-numbered 1), right at the end, “one minor strength in the thesis”, but heavily qualified (“with some reservation”, “in no way provides an opening to salvage the thesis”). The 3rd examiner had at least, though, provided a systematic series of points (sometimes specific) of criticism. The Assessor had then, presumably with the full set of examiners’ comments at hand, ‘sheltered completely behind’ the 15 critical points of this 3rd examiner, without once alluding to the favourable 1st and 2nd examiners. In fact if one counts the total number of paragraphs submitted by the 3rd and 4th (Assessor) examiners, namely eighteen, it will be found that only one of these entire eighteen paragraphs (the 3rd examiner’s last one) shows even the least semblance of being favourable, and this is still heavily qualified as just shown.

So there you have it, half a decade of work on an extremely difficult PhD thesis ultimately brushed aside in a most biased fashion! In the opinion of another colleague: “This is discrimination and a violation of the department’s fiduciary scholastic responsibility”. One would at least have expected in the case of a PhD that a fair assessment of the overall effort would have been made, whether or not one had agreed with the conclusions reached. That is exactly how the 1st examiner begins:

"The primary reason for requiring a doctoral dissertation is to give the PhD candidate an opportunity to demonstrate his/her ability to conduct original research at the highest level in one’s chosen area of specialization. Let it be said at the outset that Damien Mackey has displayed this academic achievement whether or not you agree with his conclusions and/or his methodology".

Whilst, according to the 2nd examiner:

"… [Mackey] has fulfilled the scholar’s brief by showing his capacity to sift evidence carefully, as well as consulting mainstream opinion. …. The thesis fulfills the stated criteria necessary to achieve the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. It makes an original contribution to knowledge, shows copious evidence of independent critical ability on the part of Mackey, as well as having discovered new facts".

Neither of these examiners may necessarily agree with the actual model being proposed, and both personally in fact queried some of my specific identifications (e.g., “I am uncertain of all his identifications” [1st examiner]; or, “some suggestions offered by the thesis were somewhat perturbing … however these are the bone of scholarly contention”, [2nd examiner]), but both of these examiners had judged the thesis fairly on its stated terms, concluding that it was an “original” work and one that had satisfactorily achieved its intended aims. Their comments showed no bias, and also indicated that each examiner had the critical ability to cope with the complexity of the project at hand.

The 3rd examiner on the other hand delivered a completely one-sided view, with no indication that he/she could cope with the newness of this thesis and the methodological problems that this necessarily involved. This 3rd examiner, as one observer sees it, “was merely showing off what HE knew”. Whilst I shall take up in more detail in the APPENDIX [See previous post] following this letter the 3rd examiner’s criticisms, I shall here give just one example of how I think this examiner missed the whole point. In paragraph #13, we read: “… there was an assumption that any notion of a ‘dark age’ is of necessity an anomaly which needs to explained [sic] away. This, however, was not demonstrated”.

My comment: The whole foundation however upon which my entire thesis was built was that the centuries of presumed ‘dark age’ (c. 1200-9/700 BC) are an artificial device necessitated by the chronological over-extension of Egyptian history (Sothic chronology) that has become the marker for the other nations (such as Greece, Anatolia and Ethiopia). That apparent artificiality was the very reason for my proposing what I considered to be my “more acceptable alternative” model, as a previous examiner had said was now justified; an ‘alternative’ to the Sothic theory that does not require the insertion of these particular dark ages. I nowhere claimed that ‘any notion of a dark age’ is unwarranted, as the 3rd examiner claims, just this specific period of dark age. In Chapter 1 of my thesis I had painstakingly included a large portion of critical Sothic theory, summarizing what I had laid out in that previous thesis (Masters, 1993), in order to emphasise that this was the foundation upon which this new PhD thesis was being built, and that this latter was the “more acceptable alternative” that a previous examiner had said was now allowable. Moreover, in Chapter 1 I listed a full page (p. 18) of archaeological anomalies that a diverse range of competent scholars have encountered in conventional history, pointing to a necessary lowering, by centuries, of Egyptian chronology.

How, then, can the 3rd examiner say that ‘this was not demonstrated’?

Furthermore, as we shall also find in the APPENDIX, the 3rd examiner is inclined to selectivity, several times mentioning only one aspect (sometimes quite minor) of a multi-facetted reconstruction, and then treating that as if it were the only evidence provided.

The final verdict by the Assessor, based upon the 3rd examiner, not only casts my research in a “naïve” and “irrational” light, but also does the same for the credibility and professionalism of the 1st and 2nd examiners, not to mention those who had passed the previous MA. In good faith I wrote and submitted my thesis on an approved topic, in consultation with my supervisor, Professor Rifaat Ebied, and in the full understanding that – in the climate of academic freedom that universities are supposed to enjoy – I should not be expected to write a thesis according to someone else’s demands, and that it would be written and examined free from prejudice.

But, above all, I wrote and submitted my thesis in the genuine belief that my endeavour would contribute – however little – to academic research, and would be helpful in introducing an archaeologically-based model of history that might hopefully serve as a “more acceptable alternative” to the current model. In this aim I was successful (‘fulfilled the stated criteria’) according to two examiners (who, as I said, may not necessarily agree with my particular model), with the 1st examiner going so far as to say that my thesis made “… far more historical sense than currently accepted thinking”; whilst, according to the 2nd examiner I had “… evaluated the arguments of so-called conventional scholars soundly …. I particularly appreciated [Mackey’s] usage of archaeological data to support his argument”. And all this despite the enormity of the task undertaken”, despite, according to the 1st examiner, “… [Mackey’s having] taken on a vast amount of material …”; “subject-matter” that, according to the 2nd examiner, “[covered] an enormous expanse from Egypt to Mesopotamia”.

Not once, however, did the 3rd or 4th examiners refer to the degree of difficulty involved in one’s putting together so far-reaching and ground-breaking a doctoral thesis (including the scarcity of mainstream literature dealing with the actual issues faced)!

I have no difficulty whatsoever with constructive criticism. But I am convinced – and I am sure that many other academics would share my opinion (and some have already vehemently said so) – that the combination of comments by the 3rd and the 4th examiner (Assessor) go far beyond what is normally understood by the phrase ‘constructive criticism’. But not only is my credibility at stake here, as I have already noted. The 3rd and 4th examiners have impugned the professional reputations of the two other international examiners (1st and 2nd), and of those who had passed my previous thesis (1993). This is a real slur on the academic integrity of all of these. Not once in the space of a mere two paragraphs does the Assessor mention the 1st and 2nd examiners, but alludes only to the 3rd examiner and fully takes that examiner’s side. But rarely does one feel that the 3rd examiner, either, is making direct contact with the actual substance of my thesis. It all smacks of the a priori.

As I have just said, I have no problem at all with constructive criticism. But I do not accept the biased combination of the 3rd and 4th examiners as being reasonable. The thesis has been firmly passed by two international examiners, and should therefore be awarded the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

Yours sincerely
Damien F. Mackey
....

Damien F. Mackey's Defence of Post-Graduate Thesis Against 3rd Examiner's Criticisms

Appendix:

Exposing the Inadequacies of the 3rd Examiner’s Points in the Context of my Proposed
‘More Acceptable Alternative’ Model

The 3rd examiner, unlike the Assessor, does make some points that are specifically relevant to the thesis, though he/she, just like the Assessor, never exhibits having come to terms at all with the overall complexity of the thesis, as had the 1st and 2nd examiners. Many of the 3rd examiner’s key points of criticism ignore some of the most fundamental aspects of my PhD thesis.

Nor is there the least admittance by either the 3rd or the 4th examiner that the conventional system has its serious flaws. The chronologico-historical and art-historical anomalies that have been addressed in this thesis - and that are acknowledged by many competent scholars from different fields (see e.g. p. 18 of my thesis) - are genuine problems. This will become further evident from the following pages.

The 3rd examiner’s 15 paragraphs can be broken down basically into alleged “weaknesses” relating to:

(i) methodology, four paragraphs (1-4);

(ii) primary and secondary sources, three paragraphs (5-6, 12);

(iii) ‘alter egos’, vague similarities or similar equations for place names, five paragraphs (7-11, also 5 again);

(iv) ‘dark age’, one paragraph (13); and

(v) footnotes/aesthetics, two paragraphs (14-15).

Then there follows that ‘favourable’ final paragraph (1) pointing to “one minor strength”: “The suggestion that the reigns of some of the Ramessides may have been concurrent was plausible …”.

My comment: As if any work that may throw light on the important Ramesside era could be regarded as “minor”! [Moreover, a revision of the history of the Ramessides in relation to king Hezekiah constituted a major part of my thesis, namely Volume One, Part III (pp. 188-372)]. The 1st examiner seems to have appreciated this, when commenting: “pp. 339-340 – admirable attempt to recast the latter part of the 20th Dynasty [Ramesside] which has always appeared as a somewhat gray area”

Let us consider the 3rd examiner’s five areas of criticism in turn.

(i) Methodology (paragraphs 1-4)

Regarding methodology, a major criticism offered by the 3rd examiner was that “tentative” points “were used as significant foundations for further conclusions”. The 2nd examiner had also used the word “tentative”, but with some proper understanding. Thus: “Whilst [Mackey’s] conclusions are somewhat tentative – and could not be otherwise – he has fulfilled the scholar’s brief …”.

This 2nd examiner had, like the 1st examiner, fully appreciated that a completely new model of history must be of a tentative nature.

The 3rd examiner though gives the impression that the whole thesis was basically a castle built in the air. “The vast majority of the argument was premised on a series of unproved ‘if’ statements”. “… numerous tentative points were effectively treated as … pivotal …”.

My comment: My entire thesis was in fact built upon the most solid of foundations, even if the superstructure atop this may be subject to some future alteration. As I have been at pains to demonstrate, my PhD thesis was built upon:

1. A successful MA thesis that showed the inadequacies of the conventional chronological scheme, and with an examiner pointing to the opportunity now for an ‘alternative’ model to be undertaken.

[My Abstract justifies my blazing of this new trail based on comments made by an examiner of my 1993 MA. Then, on p. 8, I argue my new thesis as being a logical development of my MA. This is repeated on p. 10 of Chapter 1. To reinforce all of this, I give a summary of my MA, beginning on p. 11. Pp. 16-21 make clear how much chronology and archaeology currently hang on Sothic dating. I summarise my efforts on this in my Conclusion, pp. 103-106].

Moreover:

2. My thesis was built upon a credible archaeological/stratigraphical foundation, as the 2nd examiner also happily noted: “I particularly appreciated [Mackey’s] usage of archaeological data to support his argument”.

The 3rd examiner seems to have completely overlooked the solid foundations of this extensive work.

Next:

3. As the thesis progressed into (as it must) the “alternative” model realm, my higher level foundation (for the background to king Hezekiah’s era) - still anchored though securely on 1. and 2. - became the now quite vast body of revisionist publications, based initially on the research of Drs. I. Velikovsky and D. Courville. As the 2nd examiner could clearly see: “[Mackey] has based his arguments on the chronological revisions of the Sothic calender [sic] thus following the footsteps of Velikovsky and Courville”. But not in a slavish fashion: “However, he has not been reticent to apply his critical ability, assessing and (where necessary) re-adjusting their datum”.

Continuing on now right into the era of king Hezekiah of Judah, my foundations (still dependent on 1-3) were:

4. Five interlocking biblical (cf. 2 Kings 18:10)/neo-Assyrian correspondences,

coinciding with the Fall of Samaria (c. 722/21 BC), namely:

(a) Fall of Samaria; (b) beginning of Sargon II of Assyria’s rule; (c) sixth year of Hezekiah of Judah; (d) ninth year of Hoshea of Israel; (e) year one of Merodach-baladan II as king of Babylon, according to Sargon’s testimony: “In my twelfth year of reign, (Merodach-baladan) .... For 12 years, against the will (heart) of the gods, he held sway over Babylon ...”.

[I discussed points (a)-(e) in detail in Chapter 1, pp. 21-28, returning to this in similar detail in Chapter 5, pp. 125-129, and then fully supplementing it in Chapter 12, pp. 349-350, and finally summarising it all on p. 372, Summary of Volume One].

Thus, I set out a clear foundational progression (1-4), whilst the ‘alter ego’ methodology was firmly established at the outset of my PhD thesis as being a key method to be used therein.

[See also Chapter 3, pp. 52-53, for the beginning of my explanation of my ‘multi-identifications’ methodology, based on a very solid Velikovskian connection; this then being taken further in Chapter 4, pp. 111-115. (See also pp. 7-8 below of this Appendix)].

Yet, typically, the 3rd examiner will write: “… the whole notion of ‘alter egos’ was simply not justified …”.

Other criticisms of a methodological nature made by the 3rd examiner were: “The argument itself did not flow. It often changed subject suddenly …”. But no examples/references are given. By contrast, the 2nd examiner – once again appreciating the difficulty of the task, and the context – wrote that “the accompanying argument highlighted the complexity of the problems that [Mackey] was attempting to unravel. These were generally worked convincingly within the framework of the thesis”.

3rd examiner again:

“The thesis did not engage adequately with more conventional scholars which was necessary in order to achieve the stated goal of providing ‘a more acceptable alternative’ to their widely accepted theories.” But, according to the 2nd examiner, I have indeed in my wide-ranging thesis “evaluated the arguments of so-called conventional scholars soundly”. Moreover: “[Mackey] has fulfilled the scholar’s brief by showing his capacity to sift evidence carefully, as well as consulting mainstream opinion”.

[On p. 5 of my Introduction I told of my indebtedness to conventional scholars/archaeologists of the past. In Chapter 11, p. 276, I praised “Bierbrier’s painstaking and laudable attempts to establish a clear chronological framework for Egyptian officials and workmen for the most difficult phase” of the Third Intermediate Period [TIP]. Moreover, I make it quite clear, in my treatment of the Ramessides and the difficult TIP that I did not intend to be “dogmatic”, but “tentative”, and that “I would be highly presumptuous” were I to presume that I could fully master the situation, Chapter 11, p. 258. See also Volume Two, p. 106].

3rd examiner again: “Problems with conventional dating were exaggerated and often not considered in full, especially in terms of the solutions proposed by scholars advocating more conventional dating (e.g., Thiele). This also revealed a failure to deal with the purpose and literary-theological devices inherent in biblical chronologies”.

My comments:

For one of my key historical re-identifications, concerning Esarhaddon in relation to the neo-Assyrian succession, in Chapter 6, I actually gave detailed points, headed, “Conventional Theory’s Strengths” (pp. 135-142) as to why - although I was going to propose reasons for considering a departure from the conventional view - I nevertheless appreciated why the conventional view had a firm claim to being right. I revisited this in summary fashion also on pp. 150-151. And I returned to this point again in my final thesis Conclusion at the end of Volume Two (pp. 104-105).

Moreover, I actually discussed Edwin Thiele at great length, first introducing him into the discussion on pp. 14-15 of Chapter 1, then considering him in more detail on pp. 22-27; an analysis that I continued in Chapter 5, pp. 125-129, and also in Chapter 12, p. 349. Though critical of the fact that Thiele had, following a faulty neo-Assyrian chronology, completely eradicated those five interlocking biblical/neo-Assyrian and Babylonian correspondences [(a)-(e) in point 4. on pp. 2-3 above], I did however (on pp. 126-129) consider the merits of Thiele’s overall system, acknowledging the problems that he faced. Indeed I recognised the validity of Thiele’s points in regard to the difficulties of a chronological correspondence between kings Hoshea and Hezekiah. And I coupled this with Assyriologist H. Tadmor’s related arguments, as noted by Thiele (Chapter 1, p. 22; Chapter 5, pp. 127-128; and Chapter 12, p. 354). At the same time I pointed to the inadequacies of Velikovsky’s revision, p. 25, his “sometimes … embarrassing gaffes”, indicating also that I would significantly modify his reconstruction of the el-Amarna period in Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 9 and Chapter 10.

Thiele’s chronological problems with king Hezekiah though turn out to be artificial. Thiele is the one with the faulty methodology. Thanks to Thiele, Hezekiah has now become one of most vexed problems in biblical history, pp. 126, 129. Thiele, despite his “good intentions” (p. 129), ended up doing exactly what he intended not to do, when he had endeavoured to establish “a sound chronology for Old Testament times”, fitting it “into the events of the Near Eastern world” (p. 126). Consider what Thiele has now lost for us, pp. 23-24; also pp. 125-129. The 3rd examiner does not once allude to the fact that Thiele has completely eradicated an ancient multi-syncretism (a)-(e); one that the facts of modern archaeology have actually begun to support and further augment. I say (p. 128) that I shall attempt to enlarge this (a)-(e) correspondence even further by including, in Chapter 12, the Egyptian (f) and Ethiopian (g) contemporaries of the Fall of Samaria (a).

Re biblical genre and purpose, I had definitely considered these throughout my thesis: e.g. Chapter 2, p. 33, where I had argued that the Bible was “didactic, not political science”; and p. 54 my explanation of el-Amarna’s geopolitical situation in relation to the Old Testament; and p. 55, on biblical perspective; and also pp. 72-73 on the Bible’s non-sophisticated attitude to geography. Then in Volume Two (pp. 89-91), I engaged in an in-depth textual analysis of the Isaian Denkschrift. (See also p. 6 of this Appendix).

In conclusion, the 3rd examiner has completely failed to appreciate and understand the firm foundations upon which this thesis was built. This is in contrast to the 1st and 2nd examiners, who did not consider that my methodology was shallow. On the contrary, according to the 1st examiner:

Mr. Mackey is very good at weighing alternatives … I … do not feel that he is “forcing a square peg into a roundhole”. His overall analyses and discussions are in depth and quite plausible. …. He has taken on a vast amount of material … and has dealt with it in considerable depth. If specialists and scholars with an open mind will approach his work dispassionately, [Mackey] has left a great deal to be studied and reconsidered. This is a seminal work – as it should be – and a door opened wide for further exploration.

Whilst the 2nd examiner, impressed by my use of the archaeological data, also believes:

… [Mackey] has evaluated the arguments of so-called conventional scholars soundly. … the thesis … makes an original contribution to knowledge, shows copious evidence of independent critical ability on the part of Mackey, as well as having discovered new facts.

(ii) Primary and secondary sources (paragraphs 5-6, 12)

3rd examiner: “There was a failure to incorporate some key primary sources into the evidence, most notably the Babylonian Chronicles, the Assyrian King List, and Esarhaddon’s Vassal Treaty with Baal of Tyre”. By contrast, the 2nd examiner thought, regarding my “Bibliography. This was satisfactory – a testament to [Mackey’s] copious reading – and no changes are required”.

And (3rd examiner): “The primary sources which featured in the thesis were never appraised or weighed in terms of genre, accuracy, reliability, purpose, and bias …. This was acutely apparent in the use of Assyrian annals, the canonical biblical literature, and the deutero-canonical books of Judith and Tobit”.

My comment: I frequently in fact made use of the Babylonian Chronicles (e.g. Chapter 3, p. 78, Chapter 6, pp. 136-137, 147, 169), though being careful to note that this document is in fact a late source. I did indeed use the Assyrian King List (e.g. p. 131), but most notably in my discussion of “The Assuruballit Problem” [TAP], an Excursus dedicated to this very issue (pp. 230-253). I also used, extensively, the Taylor Prism, e.g. Chapter 6 (pp. 151-165); the Eponym Chronicle (pp. 144-145); the Assyrian Chronicle (e.g. p. 148); the Limmu Lists (p. 132); the ND4301 and ND4305 Nimrud fragments published by Wiseman (pp. 347-349). Moreover, the 3rd examiner here actually refers to my “use of Assyrian annals”. I also made extensive use of H. Tadmor and D. Luckenbill (Sargon II’s Khorsabad texts), with reference to the primary sources, especially throughout Chapter 6.

In fact I went even deeper than merely using primary sources and had, following Tadmor, serious cause to criticize (in relation to the document that Tadmor called “Eponym Cb6”) the fact that Assyriologists, Winckler and Delitzsch, had presumed to add the name “Sargon” where it may not originally have been, pp. 137-138.

Further to what I have already said above re my attention to genre, and to biblical perspective, much of my Chapter 1, in Volume Two (e.g., pp. 17-37), involved a discussion of the debate regarding the genre of the apocryphal Book of Judith, which I headed “A History and Critical Evaluation of [the Book of Judith]. A. Versions, Genre …”. See also my Chapter 3 (pp. 74-75) regarding how history has viewed this, and how history’s view of it has changed according to the different fashions or moral values of different epochs. In this I was notably successful, according to the 2nd examiner who wrote:

The study of the Book of Judith, in particular, showed promise. I appreciated the discussion of the book’s placement (or non-placement) in the Jewish versus the Catholic canon. The accompanying commentary also was a good piece of work. I would recommend that, with judicious editing and some reworking, this part of the thesis be suitable for publication. Re the argument of history v. ‘pious fiction’, it might be worthwhile to consider the questions of ‘intent’ and ‘audience’.

A significant amount of my Volume Two thus constituted a discussion of the textual nature of the Book of Judith, in which I concluded - following some millennia and a half of Judaeo-Christian tradition, I might add - that the book was in fact an ancient account of an actual history, and not just some sort of ‘pious parable/fiction’ (genre). My primary contribution was to show that this history was situated entirely within the era of Hezekiah.

(iii) “‘alter egos’,” “equations of a similar nature for geographic place names”, and “vague similarities” or (paragraphs 7-11, also 5);

Firstly ‘alter egos’

According to the 3rd examiner (a part of this we have already read): “The thesis suffered from the same flaws as Velikovsky’s approach, which exerted considerable influence over the argument, including lending it a starting point. In particular, the whole notion of ‘alter egos’ was simply not justified, and, in fact, beggars the imagination”.

And: “… there was a distinct failure to look thoroughly at the linguistic problems associated with the various equations of names being proposed by the ‘alter-ego’ model. This led to some rather fanciful and improbable equations which are simply not credible linguistically, let alone historically …”.

And: “… the thesis criticizes other scholars for failing to explain name correspondences (e.g., So = Saïs, p. 189) when it fails to do this many times over. This unfortunately reveals a scholarly double standard”.

My comments: If one has, as I have, embarked upon a revision of ancient history based upon the view that Egyptian history has been grossly over-extended, thereby affecting the chronologies of the nations tied to it, then one has to determine upon a methodology that is appropriate towards rectifying this situation. This must of necessity involve a shortening of chronology. But it must not go against the evidence. As the 2nd examiner has noted, my approach was archaeologically-based, hence a sound foundation underpinned it all. This is in contrast, I believe, to the latter part of Velikovsky’s revision, where - in order to merge the entire neo-Hittite empire with the Babylonian (Nebuchednezzar II’s), and make the 19th Egyptian dynasty (that is concurrent with the Hittites) the same as the 26th Egyptian dynasty, concurrent with the Babylonian empire - Velikovsky had ruptured the true and well-established archaeological sequence which indicates that the 19th dynasty must follow on directly from the 18th. This bold plan of Velikovsky’s, to accommodate his chronological shrinkage, would have been wonderful had it been workable. But it was in fact doomed to failure right from the start because it went ruthlessly against the established archaeological evidence.

Now the method of ‘alter egos’, and the merging of certain dynasties, is the one that revisionist scholars have tended to adopt to support the necessary chronological shrinkage. It makes good sense (where it does not violate the established evidence). And some very striking correspondences have already been made. I have built upon what I consider to have been the best of these, and have also significantly added to them, according to the 2nd examiner’s recognising that I have “discovered new facts”. In other words, the model that I have proposed seems to be fruitful and productive, not barren. But does not the 3rd examiner completely miss the point again by asserting, without qualification, that my equations are “simply not credible … historically …”, given that what I have produced is in fact quite a new model of history; one that according to both the 1st and 2nd examiners was convincing according to its context (e.g., 2nd examiner: “… problems [were] generally worked convincingly within the framework of the thesis”)?

Some of my linguistic equations might indeed be controversial, with even the 2nd examiner saying, “occasionally I felt he rather stretched linguistic arguments”. I could have though, for instance, in my proposed equation of Jonah with Nahum (partly based on Tobit 14:4, versions of which variously give ‘Jonah’ and ‘Nahum’) ‘stretched’ the NAH element in both names (Jo-NAH-um) as part of my evidence for identifying Jonah with Nahum. However, I resisted this temptation, due to the fact that, as I would write (Volume Two p. 94), there is “only a superficial similarity between the names”, with ‘Jonah’ containing the letter h (Hebrew he), whilst ‘Nahum’ contains the letter ch (Hebrew het). Now, regarding name linguistics, the 1st examiner thought at least:

On pp. 60ff., I found this to be a valiant effort to identify the EA correspondents and I especially like the linguistic equation of Abdi-ashirta with Dushratta [i.e., through Ab-DU-aSHRATTA, p. 67].

It is quite wrong for the 3rd examiner to claim that “there was a distinct failure to look thoroughly at the linguistic problems associated with the various equations of names being proposed by the ‘alter-ego’ model”. I especially justified my ‘alter ego’ connection for kings with the ADP (see Acronyms) or ‘Addu-principle’ (Chapter 3, pp. 68-71), according to which a king might use a different theophoric (‘god’ name) in a different region (e.g. Baal in Phoenicia; Hadad in Syria; Ashur in Assyria). This e.g. accounted for why the one king might have had dissimilar names. Another factor I suggested was the well-attested religious syncretism at the time (p. 91), with the likelihood of a Yahweh and a Baal name being used together. With ADP, el-Amarna names (presumably C14th BC) now appear abundantly in C9th texts (p. 71). Also:

[On pp. 68 I gave an explanation of possible Semitic use of Indo European names. Also on p. 174 I made it clear that, whilst certain equations may connect the same name, my identification was not based on name similarity alone; though it is nice when that happens. On pp. 208-209 I applied the ADP to Tushratta].

There were many further arguments in favour of my ‘alter ego’ comparisons, e.g:

[P. 65 Boutflower has shown the name Tabeel to have been comparable with Tab rimmon. P. 146, Tiglath-pileser III was also ‘Pul[u]’, both in history and the Bible. We know that Assyrians took different names as rulers of Babylon, p. 184. P. 179-180 my folding of the Middle Bronze I & II Ages also involved name folding. P. 138, explanation of Sargon II’s name as a throne name; Sennacherib, as a personal name. P. 139, Tobit clearly says who Sennacherib’s father was, “Shalmaneser”, not Sargon (p. 184, the name Sargon, meaning “true King”, is suspicious – he may well have been a usurper). P. 147 Tiglath-pileser is a throne name, not a personal name. P. 169 Esarhaddon was known to have had two different names. The biblical Hadoram is also Joram, p. 69, and the name Adda-danu = Balu shipti, p. 70].

In light of all this, one has to wonder if the 3rd examiner has properly read the thesis!

And to make me question this even further there is the 3rd examiner’s mistaken comment re “So = Saïs, p. 189”; this being, incidentally, the only occasion in all of sixteen paragraphs where the 3rd examiner cites a specific page (let alone Chapter, or Volume) of my thesis. By the time we have come to this p. 189 (re “So = Saïs …”), I had already given pages (see above) of linguistic arguments and principles in support of my thesis, and these would continue on, including into Volume Two, Part II (pp. 37-46) and in the Excursus, pp. 87-102. So I cannot justifiably be flatly accused of ‘failing to explain name correspondences’. My particular criticism of the So = Saïs equation was that “So” was a biblical king of Egypt, whereas Saïs is well known to have been a city in the W. Egyptian Delta. However unconvincing scholars may find some of my own equations, be they of people or places, at least I cannot be accused of ever having attempted to force an identification of one designated as a person with a known place (city), as some conventional historians have proposed in the case of So = Saïs.

That strange ‘osmosis’ (a person becoming a place) is the point of my argument here.

As I claim, my ‘alternative’ historical model is not a barren one. At least the 2nd examiner, as we read, did not think so (“new facts”). Nor did the 1st examiner, who liked e.g. the following comparisons:

p. 82 - good attempt to identify the enigmatic Kassites (who remain a real problem).

pp. 88ff. – excellent point regarding use of Hebrew in [el-Amarna] correspondence.

pp. 90ff. – a provocative and detailed discussion of the [el-Amarna] correspondence in order to identify the correspondents.

pp. 133ff. –The Sargon II-Sennacherib equation is provocative, comprehensive and near compelling. It stands as a major challenge to traditional specialists in Mesopotamian history and archaeology.

p. 180 – a tantalizing comparison between 12th and 8th century BC individuals.

pp. 180ff. – good discussion of Kassite/Assyro-Babylonian similarities.

pp. 300ff. – very good discussion of the meaning of the Israel Stele.

pp. 316ff. – good attempt to unravel the relationship between the 21st and 22nd [Egyptian] dynasties;

pp. 322-327 – drives home the point about objects identified as “heirlooms” owing to a misplaced chronology.

This same 1st examiner, too, had fully appreciated the degree of difficulty involved with certain aspects of my thesis, particularly in relation to Egypt’s most troublesome Third Intermediate Period, or TIP [i.e., Dynasties 21-26]:

pp. 358ff. – an interesting attempt to sort out “who was who” in the 21st & 22nd Dynasties. This seems to be one of the most confusing periods in Ancient Egyptian history (pace Kitchen) and may never be straightened out. Mackey is to be commended for his effort.

[Indeed, the great Egyptologist Sir Alan Gardiner had despaired of this historical period’s ever being properly resolved. See quote on p. 338 of thesis].

My thesis in fact, as I made clear (Chapter 3, p. 51), would tackle head on the three most vexed problems for the Velikovskian based revision (none of which is problem free in the conventional system), namely:

‘The Assuruballit Problem’ [henceforth TAP];

where to locate Ramses II (in the new scheme); and

the resolution of the complex TIP.

And, whilst I thought ultimately (thesis Conclusion, pp. 103-106) that I had managed to propose a positive solution to (i) and (ii), I did not claim to have done more than to provide “at least the outline of a solution - rather than a comprehensive revision - for (iii)”.

Generally, as I have said, my ‘alternative’ historical model can be fruitful, having the potential to solve some glaring, unresolved problems that have persisted in - even bedevilled - the conventional system. Some of these, which are a bit technical in full detail, I shall now illustrate in brief:

One of the most glaring problems is the lack of archaeology for a supposed 400 years of Kassite history (see section ‘dark age’ for more detail on this), completely resolved in my chronological shrinkage and identification of the Kassites with Assyro-Babylonian kings. See also the 1st examiner’s favourable comments above on my treatment of the Kassites.

The conventional system cannot explain why, whereas Assuruballit of Assyria’s father - as given in the el-Amarna letters - was called Assur-nadin-ahe, his father is named in the Assyrian King List as Eriba-Adad, not Assur-nadin-ahe. Yet so much is based on this supposed connection, as we read in Centuries of Darkness: “Thus the much vaunted synchronism between Akhenaten and Assuruballit I, the main linch-pin between Egyptian and Assyrian Late Bronze Age chronologies, is flawed and must be treated with caution” (cited on p. 231 of thesis).

My multi-identification of Tushratta enabled for me to explain how this Mitannian king had been in a position to send the statue of Ishtar of Nineveh (Assyria) to pharaoh Amenhotep III in Egypt, in the hope of curing the latter’s illness. For Tushratta was also, according to my reconstruction, Ashurnasirpal II of Assyria, pp. 73, 76-81. [See also p. 80, art evidence for Ashurnasirpal II as a contemporary of Egypt’s Late Kingdom].

***

My equation, Tushratta = Abdi-ashirta (the 2nd examiner, as we saw, liked the linguistic connection here), serves to answer my persistent question (e.g. pp. 65-67, 73) as to why two contemporary kings, Tushratta and Abdi-ashirta, ruling the same regions, and with the same ambitions and aspirations (e.g. to consolidate rule over Mitanni), never clashed, nor do their names ever appear together in the el-Amarna correspondence.

The mention in 2 Chronicles 21:16-17 of “the Arabians, who were near the Cushites [Ethiopians]”, who sacked king Jehoram’s palace in Jerusalem has bewildered biblical scholars (see my discussion in Chapter 4, pp. 112-114). E.g: “This curious verse can hardly signify that the Arabians took and plundered Jerusalem” (quote on p. 114). But it is perfectly explainable in a revised context.

In fact we often meet with cases in which the conventional scenario leads to such statements of bewilderment or astonishment, e.g:

p. 73, where Campbell had sought for “... a way to explain a Mitannian raid into upper Syria sometime during the final years of Amenophis [Amenhotep] III, carried out by Tušratta [Tushratta] while he was maintaining loyal friendship with Egypt”. But Campbell finally had to admit to having “no satisfactory explanation”. [See also Roux, p. 14 below, on Kassite archaeology].

The fairly recently published Tang-i Var inscription (see Chapter 6, p. 144, Chapter 12, pp. 350-351, 364) has thrown into complete and unexpected confusion the conventional syncretisms between Sargon II of Assyria and the 25th Ethiopian dynasty; a problem that does not exist in my renovation of neo-Assyrian history and the TIP.

And, with Sargon II to be merged with Sennacherib, as I have argued, then Thiele’s problems with harmonizing the reign of king Hezekiah of Judah against the neo-Assyrian rule are no longer relevant. As the 1st examiner notes, this (Sargon II = Sennacherib) was “provocative, comprehensive and near compelling”. [For more on this, see p. 13 below of this Appendix)].

Art-historical problems of similarities between C12th BC (‘Middle’ Assyro-Babylonian) and C8th BC (‘Neo’ Assyro-Babylonian) art (pp. 80-81, also pp. 250-251) do not exist in my model, which provides a chronological folding of the ‘Middle’ and ‘Neo’ eras.

[See also p. 250, for art of Horemheb, Egypt’s Late Kingdom, like that found in neo-Assyria; p. 251, for art depicting the ‘Sea Peoples’, again Late Kingdom, like that of Shalmaneser III of a supposedly later period].

Secondly, “equations of a similar nature for geographic place names”

There were actually rather few such geographical “equations” proposed in the thesis, and the 3rd examiner mentions only two of these, namely: “… Lachish = Ashdod; Rages = Damascus”. Regarding the first, Lachish = Ashdod, I noted Chapter 6 (p. 154) that Sargon II had, in his Annals, actually referred simultaneously to two Ashdods: “Ashdod, Gimtu [Gath?], Ashdudimmu [Ashdod-by-the-Sea], I besieged and captured”. The conventional historians do not explain why. My thesis does. They are two separate locations, with ‘Ashdod-by-the-Sea’ being the conventional Ashdod; whereas ‘Ashdod’, unqualified, is Lachish. This identification solves a host of problems, including why Sargon II, who actually took the fort of Azekah in Judah (pp. 158-159) would have studiously ignored Azekah’s neighbour fort (p. 140), the mighty Lachish. Sargon II claims to have subdued Judah (as noted on p. 154). For other resolutions, and arguments in favour of this equation, Ashdod = Lachish, see pp. 151, 160-162.

As regards the equation Rages = Damascus, the 3rd examiner has made the comment: “… simply contradictory … Rages, situated in a mountainous terrain, was equated with Damascus which was correctly noted as being located in a plain …”. Now this, the only occasion when the 3rd examiner has credited me with being ‘correct’, in fact mis-states what I had actually written. I discussed all this in Volume Two, Chapter 2, pp. 38-40, where I had specifically claimed that “Rages”, a city in the mountains, must be the city of Damascus that dominated the province of Batanaea” (p. 39). Damascus, almost 700 m above sea level, is actually situated on a plateau. Secondly, I gave there very specific geographical details in order to identify this “Rages” in relation to “Ecbatana” (Tobit 5:6), which I had in turn identified (following the Heb. Londinii, or HL, fragment version of Tobit) with “Bathania”, or Bashan (possibly Herodotus’ Syrian Ecbatana as opposed to the better known Median Ecbatana). According to Tobit, “Rages is situated in the mountains, two days’ walk from Ecbatana which is in the plain”. Now Damascus is precisely two days’ walk from Bashan in the Hauran plain, as according to Jâkût el-Hamawi who says of Batanaea’s most central town of Nawâ …: “Between Nawa and Damascus is two days’ journey” (as quoted on p. 39).

What further consolidates the fact that Tobit’s ‘Ecbatana’ was in a westerly direction, rather than an easterly one, is that his son Tobias, leaving Nineveh, arrived at the Tigris river in the evening; an impossibility were he heading for Median Ecbatana in the east. And, according to the Vulgate version of Tobit, Charan, that is, Haran, is situated “in the halfway” between Nineveh and Ecbatana. The traveller is clearly journeying towards the west. Whilst Bible scholars today tend to dismiss the whole geography of the Book of Tobit as nonsensical, a simple adjustment based on a genuine version (Heb. Londinii), makes perfect - even very precise (“two days walk”) - sense of it.

Thirdly, “vague similarities”

3rd examiner: “Vague similarities were used as a means of drawing identical equations. Thus, for example, the use of kohl was found to be a similarity between Jezebel (conventionally dated to 9th century BC) and Nefertiti (conventionally dated to 14th century BC), which was subsequently used to suggest that they were probably the same person. This appeared to make the evidence fit the desired outcome”.

My comment: I hardly hung my reconstruction on this small point of the kohl.

As part of my primary foundations, 1-3, I had re-located the el-Amarna period (Nefertiti’s age) from the C14th BC to the C9th BC. The 1st examiner, according to whom: “pp. 210-222 – While the equation of Nefertiti with Jezebel is intriguing, I don’t buy it”, had conceded that: “It is a better argument for their contemporaneity rather than identity”. Note here that the 1st examiner was fully aware that my reconstruction of Nefertiti far exceeds (“pp. 210-222”) the mere mention of “kohl” (p. 221). “Kohl” is an element that the seemingly “eye witness” (P. Ellis quote, p. 221) account of Jezebel’s death has included, and it is certainly a notable feature of Nefertiti’s cosmetic make-up. But I intended it merely as just one small piece in a large jigsaw puzzle, or possible Identikit.

Now this is a typical ploy of the 3rd examiner, to minimize the evidence I used for a particular reconstruction. Indeed the very same procedure can be found in the following two instances of criticism:

(3rd examiner): “Thus, for example, to propose that two Assyrian monarchs, Sargon II and Sennacherib … were not only one and the same person, but also identical with the Babylonian monarch Nebuchadnezzar I, is a simply stunning claim. One needs far more than chronological concurrence (which itself was not convincingly argued for) to make this claim, yet no further convincing grounds were given”.

My comments: Apart from the fact that I had previously addressed the ‘dark age’ problem in ‘Middle Assyrian’ history Chapter 6, pp. 130-131, then applying this to Babylonia, Chapter 7, pp. 174-176, I had then begun to bridge the gap between ‘Middle’ and ‘Neo’ Assyrian history. I did this particularly by synchronizing the circumstances of Tukulti-Ninurta I and III, and then making a detailed comparison between Tiglath-pileser I and III, Chapter 7, pp. 181-184, accompanied also by comparisons between the Babylonian Merodach-baladan I and II (whose building works even archaeologists cannot clearly distinguish, p. 179). I also showed that a succession of supposedly C12th BC Elamite kings (known as the ‘Shutrukids’), encountered by Nebuchednezzar I, had virtually the same names as a succession of Elamite kings encountered by Sennacherib. Thus (my Table 1, p. 180):

Table 1: Comparison of the C12th BC (conventional) and C8th BC

C12th BC

· Some time before Nebuchednezzar I, there reigned in Babylon a Merodach-baladan [I].

· The Elamite kings of this era carried names such as Shutruk-Nahhunte and his son, Kudur-Nahhunte.

· Nebuchednezzar I fought a hard battle with a ‘Hulteludish’ (Hultelutush-Inshushinak).


C8th BC

· The Babylonian ruler for king Sargon II’s first twelve years was a Merodach-baladan [II].

· SargonII/Sennacherib fought against the Elamites, Shutur-Nakhkhunte & Kutir-Nakhkhunte.

· Sennacherib had trouble also with a ‘Hallushu’ (Halutush-Inshushinak).

“Too spectacular I think to be mere coincidence!”, I had remarked.

The 1st examiner, as we read, appreciated this.

[I also gave art-historical support for this ‘folding’ of eras (p. 181). And I identified, as the same person, a legendary Vizier common to both eras (p. 185-187). On pp. 184-186, I entered into a discussion of Sennacherib as Nebuchednezzar I].

Moreover, my explanation (Sennacherib = Nebuchednezzar I, pp. 184-186) solved the conundrum for the conventional history as to why the proud Sargon II, or Sennacherib, did not - like previous Assyrian conquerors of Babylon - adopt the title: “King of Babylon”, “preferring to use the older shakkanaku (‘viceroy’)” (p. 185). “That modesty however was not an Assyrian characteristic we have already seen abundantly”, I wrote. “And so lacking in this virtue was Sargon in fact, I believe, that historians have had to create a complete Babylonian king, namely, Nebuchednezzar I, to accommodate the Assyrian’s rôle as ‘King of Babylon’.”

My point here is again that this construction was built on far more than, according to the 3rd examiner, “chronological concurrence”. Moreover, I was not averse to pointing to certain defects in my own reconstruction (e.g. p. 185, a major problem).

And for the actual equation, Sargon II = Sennacherib, a matter of extreme controversy, no doubt, and one therefore requiring detailed attention, I had painstakingly throughout Chapter 6 (1st examiner used the word, “comprehensive”) gone through the successive regnal year events of Sargon II, comparing these with the successive campaign records of Sennacherib, showing that they compared remarkably well: too well, indeed, I thought, to have been mere coincidence. Here is my summary and comment on this (from p. 166):

A Question By Way of Summary

What are the chances of two successive kings having, in such perfect chronological sequence - over a span of some two decades - the same campaigns against the same enemies?

Merodach-baladan (Sargon). Merodach-baladan (Sennacherib).

2. Ellipi, Medes and Tumunu (Sargon). Ellipi, Medes and Tumunu (Sennacherib).

3. Egypt-backed Judah/Philistia (Sargon). Egypt-backed Judah/Philistia (Sennacherib)

4. Merodach-baladan and Elam (Sargon). Merodach-baladan and Elam (Sennacherib).

5. (Not fully preserved) (Sargon). (Not fully preserved) (Sennacherib).

6. Babylon, Elam and Bit-Iakin (Sargon). Babylon, Elam and Bit-Iakin (Sennacherib).

7. Elam (Sargon). Elam (Sennacherib).

[End of quote].

(iv) ‘Dark Age’ (paragraph 13);

At the beginning of Chapter 6, I resorted to the testimony of Assyriologists re some crucial phases of Dark Age in Assyrian history. I drew some of this information from the book, Centuries of Darkness, by Peter James and other scholars from different fields. Though James is a revisionist, this book (which has a Foreword by Professor/Lord Colin Renshaw, archaeologist) is now being quoted favourably in text books, e.g. by N. Grimal, A History of Ancient Egypt (Blackwell, 1992), p. 440.

I continued this discussion of Dark Age into Chapter 7, as noted above, and also returned to it in detail when analyzing the TIP in Chapter 11 and Chapter 12.

Here I would like just to take a section out of my Chapter 7, p. 175, re the Kassite archaeology, or lack thereof, to show clearly that there is something seriously wrong with the present structure:

It is not I think too much to say that the Kassites are an enigma for the over-extended conventional scheme. Roux has given the standard estimate for the duration of Kassite rule of Babylonia: “… a long line of Kassite monarchs was to govern Mesopotamia or, as they called it, Kar-Duniash for no less than four hundred and thirty-eight years (1595-1157 B.C.)”. This is a substantial period of time; yet archaeology has surprisingly little to show for it. Roux again:

Unfortunately, we are not much better off as regards the period of Kassite domination in Iraq … all we have at present is about two hundred royal inscriptions – most of them short and of little historical value – sixty kudurru … and approximately 12,000 tablets (letters and economic texts), less than 10 per cent of which has been published. This is very little indeed for four hundred years – the length of time separating us from Elizabeth 1.

[Seton] Lloyd, in his book dedicated to the study of Mesopotamian archaeology [The Archaeology of Mesopotamia] can give only a mere 4 pages [i.e., pp. 172-175] (including pictures) to the Kassites, without even bothering to list them in the book’s Index at the back.

[End of quote].

(v) footnotes/aesthetics (paragraphs 14-15)

3rd examiner: “… consistently incorrect use of such terms as ibid. and op. cit.” [para 14], and “consistently redundant use of ellipsis (…) in quotations” [para 15].

My comment: These are matters that can easily be tidied up before the thesis is bound. All three examiners had some comment to make regarding footnotes.

Though I can see no other alternative than to using ellipsis - as I have continued to do in this Appendix – when employing only selected parts of a quote.