dwain’s thur col., 4/20/17

So is it archaeology or grave robbing?

I was watching an old western recently and some outlaws got attacked by a band of Apaches because they were pilfering their burial grounds. That scene distracted me a bit, putting me into a state of semi-deep thought in which I posed a question — where is the line between archaeology and grave robbing? Clearly, the outlaws were grave robbers.

Native American burial grounds — regardless of how old — are protected even today. Yet even as I write this, archaeologists are digging into old tombs in the Mideast.

An Associated Press story this week said archaeologists in Egypt have discovered more than 1,000 statues and 10 sarcophagi in an ancient noble’s tomb in Luxor.

The Antiquities Ministry said that the tomb was built for a judge as far back as 1500  B.C.

Through the years, I’ve visited a number of large museums. And some of them have had mummies on display. Beneath all of that ancient cloth were  bodies of people who preceded Jesus  —  maybe even when Moses was leading the Hebrew children out of Egypt. Or was that Charlton Heston?

I’ve never read just where that line I’m talking about is defined. Maybe it’s not defined. Maybe one just digs until someone hollers — legal authorities I mean.

What exactly does digging up an old pharaoh and putting him on display along with his carry-on luggage really do for us? Do we doubt that he was really buried there? Can we even be absolutely sure that this is who they say it is? It’s not like we have ancient samples of DNA to make comparisons. Of course archaeologists often can read the ancient languages, and the inscriptions are  strong clues.

Museums have always fascinated me. I was particularly impressed with the Field Museum in Chicago when I visited there. Looking at museum exhibits  puts me in another world. While gazing upon an old sword, it’s as if I can hear metal banging against metal, and maybe I see sparks fly as the point of a spear scrapes a shield. I can smell the scent of hand-tooled leather soaped by stallion sweat. And maybe I even hear the screams of fallen warriors. These are the very artifacts picked up from those battlefields. I call these “beam me up Scotty” moments, feeling as though I’m close to some kind of portal connected to those artifacts.

Recently I watched a documentary on the History Channel in which some archaeologists think they may have found the final burial place of Lazarus.  Some scholars believe that after being raised from the dead, Lazarus, Martha and Mary fled to Cyprus. These archaeologists found a coffin in an ancient church there with the inscription “the friend of Jesus” written on it. Thus supporting their theory.

In the process of this deep thought, I missed some of that old western. I don’t know if the Apaches were led by Cochise, Geronimo or Charles Bronson.

So I wonder if there ever will  be a time when some civilization will dig us up and ponder our existence. Or have we surpassed a time and that line in the sand where archaeology will be important, given all the documentation we have today?

But if not, I can see a couple of guys sitting around in their khakis and pith helmets and one asks the other, “What the heck was a hashtag all about?”

(Dwain Walden is editor/publisher of The Moultrie Observer, 985-4545. Email: dwain.walden@gaflnews.com)