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'PYRAMID
OF SECRETS'
FOREWORD
By
ALAN F. ALFORD
On
an isolated limestone plateau, a few miles west of Cairo, there
stands a group of monuments that counts collectively as the sole
survivor of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World: the three
pyramids of Giza. Here, among this elegant triple arrangement,
we find one structure in particular that has befuddled the minds
of scholars and laymen alike for hundreds of years. It is known
as the Great Pyramid.
Foremost
among the Egyptian pyramids in its size, and unique in its precision
of build and complex interior
design, the Great Pyramid
has generated endless speculation on three central issues: Who
built it? How was it built? Why was it built? It is the “why” question – arguably
the most controversial of all – that is the exclusive focus
of this book.
Why did
the architect of the Great Pyramid require such phenomenal size
and exceptional precision? Why did he require
such an extraordinary
array of passages and chambers? There are few clues in ancient
Egyptian writings, and still fewer in the Pyramid itself, whose
uninscribed stones stand in mute testimony to the monument’s
essential mystery.
In
search of an answer, the logical first step is to study the civilisation
of ancient Egypt, which left
behind a legacy
of
more than one hundred pyramids in all. Such has been the
task of modern
Egyptology, which has justifiably made the connection between
the pyramids and the kings who each, in their personage,
encapsulated the mystery of ancient Egyptian religion. Since
the death of
the
king was indisputably a defining moment in ancient Egypt,
it is logical to suppose that the pyramid was a tomb for his
mummified
body. Moreover, since the rebirth, or resurrection, of the
king’s
soul, or spirit, was an integral part of the same defining
moment, it is logical also to suppose that the pyramid effected
the translation
of the king’s soul to the sky and ‘other world’.
Indeed, this second supposition is confirmed absolutely in
the names of the pyramids and the inscriptions (the Pyramid
Texts)
which were included in certain pyramids some two centuries
after the Great Pyramid was built (according to the official
chronology).
Thus Egyptology arrived at the same conclusion that had been
reached by the ancient Greeks: that the pyramids were the
tombs of the
kings, and that the Great Pyramid was the tomb of Khufu (Cheops).
But, going one stage further, it declared, in the immortal
words of E.A. Wallis Budge, that the Pyramid was ‘a
tomb
and nothing but a tomb’.
And
yet, doubts have persisted. For, in the case of the Great Pyramid
in particular,
it is not readily apparent why a tomb
needed to
be built so big; nor why a tomb needed to be built to such
an unprecedented degree of precision; nor why a tomb needed
to be
given such a complex
array of passages and chambers. It is because of these
doubts – these
unexplained anomalies, as it were – that alternative
Pyramid theorists have queued up to suggest that the Pyramid
is something
more than a tomb, or something other than a tomb.
The problem, in a nutshell, is that whilst the Pyramid
is a pyramid, it
is a very exceptional and unusual pyramid.
Over
the centuries, dozens of different theories have been suggested.
For nearly
two thousand years, it was claimed
that the Pyramid
was the Granary of Joseph. In the 19th century, the Pyramid
was regarded as a biblical prophecy in stone, or a repository
of
divinely-inspired weights and measures. Then, in the
20th century, came a deluge
of theories: the Pyramid was interpreted as a giant water
pump or power plant, a sundial or almanac, an astronomical
observatory,
a repository of wisdom from a lost civilisation, a temple
of initiation, a navigation beacon for alien spacecraft,
or an
air raid shelter
against meteorite impacts.
Whilst
history has yet to judge all of these alternative theories, it
does reveal a common pattern
in that the
theorist tends
to see in the Pyramid a reflection of his own contemporary
culture
and
the prevailing technology of his day. The monument
thus acts as a mirror to modern opinions and beliefs, and,
being bare
and devoid
of inscriptions, is wholly incapable of contradicting
the prejudices and preconceptions that are projected
onto it
in man’s over-keen
and eager attempts to solve the enigma. In short, the
Pyramid tells us more about ourselves than it does
about itself.
In
consequence, alternative Pyramid theories, lacking
for the most part an authentic ancient perspective,
are destined
to
collapse like waves upon the firm shore of common
sense (although, to
be
fair, some useful ideas have occasionally emerged).
This
leaves us with the orthodox theory, which, having its roots
in the religion of ancient Egypt, has uniquely
withstood
the
test of time, and has even gained strength from
the diversity of the
speculation that has been arrayed against it. Indeed,
such has been the durability of the ‘tomb
and tomb only’ theory
that it is nowadays often presented as a fact rather
than a theory.
But
although Egyptology has made great strides in understanding the
civilisation
of ancient Egypt,
it too has been
compromised inevitably by modern-day prejudices
and
preconceptions,
which have coloured its view of Egyptian religion,
with a knock-on
effect
for its interpretation of the pyramids. Here,
the main problem has been the Judaeo-Christian bias
of Egyptology’s founding
fathers, who tried to explain Egyptian religion
by reference to modern concepts such as monotheism
and polytheism. But there have
been other biases at work too, such as uniformitarianism,
or anti-catastrophism. Together, these biases
have left an indelible mark on the modern
interpretation of ancient Egypt – an interpretation
which has been used unquestioningly by pyramid
experts such as I.E.S.
Edwards, J.P. Lepre, Mark Lehner, and Miroslav
Verner.
How
serious is this problem? In 1993, the Egyptologist Dimitri Meeks
penned a devastating
indictment
of his predecessors and colleagues for the
bias they
had shown
in their interpretations
of ancient
Egypt. In his acclaimed book La Vie Quotidienne
des Dieux Egyptiens
(Daily Life of the Egyptian Gods), he
wrote:
From
the beginnings of Egyptology, the specialists have always
been inclined to make
qualitative
judgements – this is a symptom
of their often well-disguised concern
to show us an
Egypt that conforms, on the one hand,
to notions of moral
and aesthetic decorum palatable to a majority, and,
on the other, to our mode of logical
thinking. Whether
in the domain of beliefs, artistic expression,
lifestyle
or writing, Egypt is glorified, in the scholarly works
or the proliferating exhibitions devoted
to it,
only for those aspects of its civilisation
that command an approving
consensus based on the most widely shared contemporary
values. Egypt becomes acceptable only
when fitted out
with the identity we, applying our modes
of thinking
and being, foist upon it – at the cost of seeing
what is alien to us in Egyptian culture as no more
than a mask
behind which a higher reality is concealed.
Indeed, this reality is considered the ‘higher’ the
more it can be made to seem like the ultimate source
of our contemporary world. We are less
interested in acquiring knowledge of Egypt than in
recognising ourselves in Egypt... Appeals to the latest
philosophical
theories and speculations, or to modern scientific
research on multivalued logic and the founding principles
of rationality, show to what extent all the questions
asked have to do, first and foremost, with the
researcher’s own way of thinking... What would
Egypt become if it were finally taken for what it was – neither
morally acceptable nor morally shocking, and still
less the mother of our own conceptions – what
if not something completely other? The time is ripe
for posing the
question... The moment has come, then, to read or reread
the texts, not to bring them into line with
our own fantasies, as in the past, but to try to understand
what they really mean.
Is
it possible that Egyptology, saturated by 19th and 20th century
modes of thinking,
has missed the full significance
of ancient
Egyptian religion,
and
thus misinterpreted
the architecture of the Great Pyramid?
In
a companion volume to this book, to be published shortly, I argue
that ancient
Egyptian religion was
not a solar
monotheism, or Sun
cult, as Egyptologists
believe, but rather a ‘cult of creation’,
i.e. a cult whose primary aim was to celebrate
and re-enact perpetually the myth of the creation
of the Universe.
Furthermore, I argue, the king did not personify
the Sun-god, or the son of the Sun-god, as Egyptologists
maintain, but rather the creator-god, in that
his personage
embodied the soul, or spirit, of the creator.
The pyramid, therefore, was not a symbol of the
Sun
and a Sun-king, as Egyptologists suggest, but
rather a symbol
of the creation and a creator-king – a
simulacrum of the creator-god in his act of rising
from the
abyss into the nascent sky. The ancient Egyptian
name
of the Great Pyramid, Akhet Khufu, proves
that it was no exception to this rule.
This
reinterpretation of Egyptian religion has
a major bearing on our understanding of the
Great Pyramid
in that
it indicates
unequivocally
that it was not
just a tomb, but something more than a tomb.
Under the solar interpretation of
Egyptian religion, the position of the tomb
vis-a-vis the pyramid is
a moveable feast.
Egyptologists thus argue that, despite the
general rule to place the tomb beneath the pyramid, the
architect of
the
Great Pyramid
raised
the tomb
into the monument’s
superstructure, in a bold attempt to keep robbers
at bay. Accordingly, the complex interior design
of the Pyramid is interpreted as ‘a tomb
and nothing but a tomb’. Under the creational
interpretation of Egyptian religion, however,
this argument becomes wholly untenable, since
it was a fundamental rule that the body of
the king be placed in the earth, beneath the
pyramid,
in order that
his soul, or spirit, would become one with
the pyramid; this in accordance with the religious
axiom ‘the body to earth, the spirit
to the sky’. That
the architect of the Pyramid would have broken
this cardinal rule is inconceivable, for it
would have destroyed the vital magic of the
pyramid
building ritual.
In
this book, I use the creational framework to reinterpret the
Great Pyramid
on three significant
levels.
Firstly,
I argue that the outstanding scale and precision of the Pyramid
was required
for religious
reasons,
in line with
the creational
symbolism
of the
monument. In other words, the creational
interpretation provides the profound motive
for the building
of the Pyramid which
is lacking in
the orthodox,
solar interpretation. This idea, if it
be accepted, resolves at a stroke two of the
three crucial anomalies that form the raison
d’etre for alternative Pyramid
theories.
Secondly,
I argue that the king was buried underneath the Pyramid, at ground
level,
in a cave-like
room called the
Grotto, where
his mummy may remain
hidden to this day.
And
thirdly, I suggest that the Pyramid’s upper system of passages
and chambers – unique to this pyramid – had
nothing to do with the tomb of the
king, but served an altogether different purpose,
namely that of a repository
and time capsule.
It
is this third level of reinterpretation – the most controversial
without a doubt – that accounts for the
bulk of this book, and indeed its
title
Pyramid of Secrets.
Today,
the Pyramid stands bare and empty,
having been plundered in antiquity.
But
what did its
upper chambers originally
contain? And
might there be
additional chambers, yet undiscovered,
whose contents remain intact? In
attempting to
answer these questions, it is all
too easy to fall prey to one’s
preconceptions. What would we deposit
in a time capsule? What would we like
to find if a secret chamber is
opened? What is in it
for us? But such an approach
would serve only to bring the Pyramid
into
line with our own fantasies (to
borrow Meeks’ phrase).
Instead, we must ask: what would
they have deposited in
the Pyramid?
On
this question, I have taken my lead firstly from
the architecture
of the
Pyramid’s
chambers, and secondly from the
creational theory of the pyramid.
For each chamber, I ask: “how
might its features make sense
if the pyramid is a symbol of
the
creation of the Universe, and
the religion a cult of creation?” By
taking this approach, I arrive
at the view that the Pyramid
was not simply a repository of
artefacts,
but rather a repository of a
religious idea, which was
expressed in a variety of ways.
And, if the reader finds my specific
suggestions – which
I will leave him to discover – passing
strange, then it may be that
his surprise is proportionate
to my
success in eluding the bias of
the modern point of view.
I
offer this book to the reader not as
a complete solution to
the mystery
of
the Great
Pyramid,
but rather as a penultimate
solution
that might
conceivably act as a platform
for future investigations and
theories – and, with a
fair wind, some dramatic discoveries.
ALAN F. ALFORD, Walsall, England,
April 2003. |
