Saturday, January 13, 2007

Like father, like son

The most recent and substantial studies of the Assyrian eponym canon provide several surprising ramifications, ultimately revealing fraud by Sargon II and Sennacherib in the form of record tampering. Their combined manipulations produced a shrinkage of 18 years in the Assyrian and Babylonian records for their era, a period of extreme astronomical significance and a loss in exact cadence with Babylonian eclipse lists of the same era which kept records at 18 year intervals—one lost entry meant 18 lost years. As a matter of record, the basic discrepancy between the Bible’s chronology and Assyrian/Babylonian records from 781-700 BC is 12 and 18 years at various intervals, intervals that fit Sargon’s tampering and, later, Sennacherib’s adjustments exactly.

Sennacherib’s motives and tactics are more easily understood and discerned. Once his fraud is sniffed out, Assyriology actually needs the Bible to rescue its remaining credibility. Otherwise, any discovered fraud renders several centuries of reconstructed Assyrian history as highly suspect. Scholars could soon find themselves agreeing with the Bible. But before presenting evidence and arguments, let us review the astronomical side of this historical puzzle, keyed to three lunar eclipses Ptolemy used to anchor the years of his canon of Babylonian and Persian kings. Science says Ptolemy’s eclipses were right on schedule (see Understanding Hezekiah's Sign post), but Hezekiah’s sign says this is impossible.

To briefly review, Hezekiah faced a life-threatening illness and was told by Isaiah that God would heal him and save Jerusalem from capture as well. Isaiah asked Hezekiah which sign of confirmation he would prefer, for the sun's shadow to move forward or backward ten steps on the dial of Ahaz. Hezekiah chose the latter, knowing such a miraculous event would confirm Isaiah's predictions of healing and deliverance. Though Ahaz’ step sundial has long been destroyed, by process of elimination we can know its design exactly. All we need to know is that the Jews kept time in hours, which they did. So how many steps per hour did Ahaz’ dial have? Not one, two, four or any other number but three. There are not enough daylight hours to allow one step per hour because Hezekiah's choice of 10 steps forward or backward requires 20 hours. The science of eclipses also eliminates any number but three because any other number would not permit science to calculate Ptolemy’s eclipses as precisely on schedule--if earth's rotation changed to move the shadow backwards.

A design of three steps per hour means each step counted 20 minutes of time. Ten steps counts 3 hours 20 minutes. Since the shadow went backward, a minimum of another 3 hours 20 minutes is needed to get the shadow (and earth’s rotation) back to its original position—at which point modern astronomical calculations are valid again. God very likely did not slam rotation into reverse then violently reverse rotation once more after 3 hours 20 minutes. Just as we do when driving our cars, God put on the brakes, decelerating for about 30 minutes each time before changing direction. That brings the total length of Hezekiah’s miracle sign to 7 hours 40 minutes (±), which sounds a powerful alarm to every astronomer familiar with eclipse science.

Here is why. Any loss of approximately eight hours of rotation causes every subsequent solar and lunar eclipse for a period of 18 years to be a clone of its previous Saros sibling. That is unheard of in known science but science actually requires it since eclipses are very punctual, occurring in cycles of 18 years 11 days 7-8 hours. All (lunar) eclipses would be virtual clones if the cycle were just 18 years 11 days. But the earth’s rotation produces roughly 120° movement over the last few hours each cycle. Three cycles are needed before similar eclipses recur. Hezekiah’s sign produced one 18-year cycle of clones. Much as it would today, such a written astronomical record prompted denial by later generations of Babylonian magi. They recorded their lists on clay tablets, which tablets had to be transcribed as the records expanded. Back to back eclipses of largely identical description would appear to be an unfortunate blunder by weary scribes long since dead. Later generations fixed (eliminated) the mistakes, losing 18 years of history in the process since that is exactly how much history each record represented.

If we recall, the biblical record was 18 years greater than the secular historical record. At this point the Bible has science as an ally, and potentially the Babylonian eclipse lists, though based on the speculation the lists were later edited at some point before Hipparchus translated them into Greek. This would partially explain Ptolemy’s difficulties in assembling his canon. But what about Assyrian and Babylonian records?

The assembled evidence is formidable. The Assyrian canon is also known as the Eponym Canon or limmu chronicles. Several king lists and fairly substantial annals of kings support the apparent history. The Babylonian Chronicle, though slender, is in accord with the Assyrian record. We are able to find considerable agreement between the Assyrian and Babylonian records because Assyrian kings largely controlled the Babylonian throne throughout this period, either occupying dual thrones or appointing a son or Babylonian leader to govern the region. In addition, the limmu chronicles are a seemingly impartial list of honored officials appointed each year, and Assyrian documents were commonly dated to the year of the current limmu, as well as some Babylonian records. This makes it possible to further synchronize Assyrian and Babylonian records. Scholars have remarked that the various kings’ annals were written to please the king in question and preserve the record of his accomplishments. Little expense was spared so some records, however glossy, have fared well over the centuries. But the king lists and limmu lists seem impartial enough. Scholars have hoped these records were above reproach, but the surviving evidence yields clues that the record has been corrupted.

At the moment the most definitive work compiled on the Assyrian canon was published in 1994, The Eponyms of the Assyrian Empire 910-612 BC. Author Alan Millard gives exhaustive comment and review as well as including reproductions of the actual cuneiform records in his appendices. Millard’s observations and the cuneiform is all that is required to expose fraud by Sennacherib late in his reign, probably about the time his famous annals were written.

Millard points out that Assyrian kings were allowed to serve as limmu once, early in their reign. If a king was fortunate enough to reign 30 years, he was allowed to serve as limmu again in his 31st regnal year. Millard also notes that Assyrian scribes etched horizontal rulings in their records to indicate a change in government as a new king began to reign, and once after a spectacular witnessed solar eclipse. Though variations appeared over time, some scribes also included a tally of the prior king’s regnal years above the horizontal ruling. But the surviving record (which resides in the British Museum) shows a deviation for Sennacherib. Partially defaced, the cuneiform reads “[ ] years” followed by an etched horizontal ruling above Sennacherib’s name. The apparent year is 687 BC, assumed to be Sennacherib’s 19th year as king. The tally of years, though illegible, and the horizontal ruling indicate the death of Sargon II—18 years late—or the completion of a 30 year cycle by Sennacherib, which is the only historically viable choice. But this requires the conclusion 12 years are missing.

Millard’s observations again provide sufficient explanation. Limmus were officials chosen from various regions in the Assyrian empire. It seems certain traditions were followed based on superstition in which a king imitated the pattern of a great predecessor, usually his father, in selecting the geographic regions (and thus officials) honored. Presumably the gods had favored successful kings, so following their geographic order in selecting limmus was recommended to continue in divine favor. Kings did exert their will, wisely honoring their military commanders and other court officials with some discretion, but the geographic influence prevailed with only a few deviations, perhaps because a city had been destroyed (possible rebellion) or renamed, or perhaps to include new areas which had come into Assyria’s expanding empire. Kings usually began the geographic cycle anew at the start of their reign. Sennacherib did not. Instead the surviving record shows he merely continued his father Sargon’s pattern. But if we restore the traditional geographic sequence, 12 years suddenly reappear, shifting the problematic reference to Sennacherib as limmu from his 19th to his 31st year as king in agreement with Millard’s comments mentioned earlier. But if a cloud of suspicion is cast over the integrity of part of the limmu canon, the whole suffers.

Why would Sennacherib shorten his reign, thus diminishing his longevity and glory in the eyes of future generations? Because Sennacherib’s reign did not begin with a bang, but a whimper: one of his armies was divinely destroyed outside Jerusalem in the year 713 BC (not 701). Sennacherib and Assyria were severely weakened and Babylon promptly began a period of stubborn rebellion led by Merodach Baladan (II), son of Baladan. Looking back on his reign, Sennacherib saw many internal accomplishments, but a tarnished military record. It took years to subdue Babylon, sparking intense hatred for that nation. After Sennacherib’s assassination, his son Esarhaddon took steps to make peace and rebuild Babylon. But the Babylonians so hated Sennacherib they eliminated reference to his reign over their nation from most of their records. Ptolemy was forced to indicate periods of no king (interregnums) for the times Sennacherib held the throne.

For his part, Sennacherib removed mention of 12 years reign by Merodach Baladan (II) from official Babylonian records. Thus he slighted an enemy and balanced the records of Assyria and Babylon to cover his deceit. But Sennacherib’s authorized annals reveal his guilt, aided by astronomy. Sennacherib boasted he had installed Bel-ibni on the Babylonian throne early in his reign, about 715 BC. Conveniently, a Babylonian eclipse record cites the reign of Bel-ibni in 703 BC, revealing a cover-up by Assyrian scribes.

Another curiosity of the Eponym Canon is that a 150-year tradition of brief notations (usually detailing military activities) abruptly ended during Sennacherib’s reign about the time of his disastrous campaign against Judah and Jerusalem. Never to resume again. Nor did Sennacherib honor a military commander as limmu until late in his reign, another lapse with tradition. None of these issues is individually conclusive evidence, but the faulty regnal tally, horizontal ruling and second limmu listing at the 19th year of Sennacherib is hard archaeological evidence. As an acknowledged authority, Millard has provided all the insight we need. Once we discover 12 additional years of history, eclipse science requires six more missing years beyond any possible dispute. Again, the Eponym Canon provides the clues.

The surviving record shows two faulty regnal tallies and that Shalmaneser V continued Tiglath-Pileser’s limmu pattern rather than beginning the traditional cycle anew. Restoring traditional limmu patterns produces four new years, then two more years. These discoveries actually represent the first instance of fraud by Shalmaneser’s brother, Sargon II, a deception which Sennacherib merely imitated. Shalmaneser and Sargon shared regnal chores, but Sargon was subordinate. When Sargon came to sole power late in life, his military accomplishments seemed attributed to Shalmaneser by official records so Sargon destroyed his brother’s records and tinkered with the Eponym Canon to shorten Shalmaneser’s apparent reign to five years, lengthening his own reign in the process. Sargon subsequently took the throne of Babylon, only to discover regnal records revealed Shalmaneser V held the Babylonian throne for five years, long after the Assyrian records now reported his death. So the 12-year reign of Merodach Baladan (I), son of Iakin, and the 5-year reign of Shalmaneser were inverted, restoring harmony between the records of Babylon and Assyria. Sargon also had what is now called the SDAS king list compiled with regnal tallies cited to support the newly created record. Centuries later, Ptolemy never had a chance to discern these tactics, failing to understand there were two Merodach Baladans, or that between Sargon and Sennacherib 18 years of history had been trimmed. Nor could Ptolemy imagine the consequences of Hezekiah’s sign, if he was aware of it at all.

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