Summary: Part 2 of a 2-part installment on the re-discovery of a Hebrew manuscript from Cairo that has generated excitement over recent months. Here, we look at its discovery, subsequent loss, and re-discovery 112 years later.
The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul; the testimony of the LORD is sure, making wise the simple; the precepts of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes; the fear of the LORD is clean, enduring forever; the rules of the LORD are true, and righteous altogether. More to be desired are they than gold, even much fine gold; sweeter also than honey and drippings of the honeycomb. – Psalm 19:7-10 (ESV)
The Disappearance of Cairo’s Crown **
When Prof. Yoram Meital* visited Cairo in 2017 to document the city’s historic synagogues, he knew he might encounter literary remnants of the Jewish community’s once vibrant life. It was no secret that old and precious manuscripts had once resided in the city’s historic synagogues. However, decades of complicated Jewish existence in the area had left the whereabouts of many of these uncertain. Among those missing was the crown of Cairo, a remarkable 11th century manuscript containing the Ketuvim, or Writings, section of the Bible produced by the scribe Zechariah Ben Anan.
The term “crown” in the name is translated from either “keter,” (כתר) or “taj,” (תאג) used variously depending on custom and geographic place of origin. These manuscripts were essentially reference books that preserved the authoritative biblical source-text for copyists of the Hebrew Bible. In this way, for centuries, scribes maintained what is known as the Masoretic Text – the standardized text that serves as the basis for the Hebrew Bible and the Old Testament of the Christian Bible.
In the marginal notes of these books, scribes would log data such as minor differences in the spelling of words. For example, the word “Shiloh” appears in both 1 Samuel 1 and 1 Samuel 2. The Hebrew spelling is different in each one of these occurrences. To make sure that the copyist is careful to preserve that difference, the Masorah notes the fact of the difference and records the frequency of these variations. This meticulous attention to detail helped assure accurate transmission of the text by preventing the copyist from intentionally or unintentionally standardizing the spelling with a single form that he may prefer.
The whereabouts of Cairo’s crown had been unknown for decades. The last documented encounter was in 1981 when an Israeli team had processed it for catalogue in microfilm. At that time, referencing a 1905 article published by Richard Gottheil, the team keyed the various manuscripts it documented to Gottheil’s list using his original numbering. Today, many of these manuscripts are missing or show evidence of having been pilfered by thieves.
A Foggy Fate: When Manuscripts Go Missing
Desecration or even outright theft of manuscripts is not unusual. In an era before the printing press, when everything was done by hand, manuscripts were masterful works of scholarship and craftsmanship. This is particularly true of biblical manuscripts, which represent the zenith of manuscript production. Their value and remarkable magnetism leave them especially open to exploitation.
Upon reflecting over the manuscripts he encountered in the Cairo synagogues, Richard Gottheil wrote:
“One need not be a bookworm to develop enthusiasm for these Bible codices. They are magnificent in their grandeur, veritable chefs-d’euvre of the scribal art. One stands before some of these venerable monuments with feelings not unlike awe; immense masses of parchment, the pages ranging from twenty to fifty centimeters in height. Think of the love, the veneration, the piety, the sacredness that are here embodied; the amount of money spent, the effort expended, and the care with which the finished volumes were prized.” [1]
Regrettably, the qualities that make biblical manuscripts remarkable also make them susceptible to exploitation. Sometimes, pages with illuminations of biblical scenes or passages of poignant texts are cut out and stolen. This mutilation may be inflicted by unscrupulous patrons who covet a page for a collection, or perhaps for use as a personal amulet.
At other times the culprits are profiteers looking to monetize a Bible by parting out valuable sections for sale. These individuals perpetrate their butchery unconcerned about the treasures they steal or destroy. In any case, whether for use as a magic charm, or for profit, the effect of the desecration is the same.
Cairo’s Crown: Hidden in Plain Sight
On July 27, 2017, Yoram Meital stood in the midst of the historic Moshe Der’i synagogue in Cairo, a monumental structure in the shape of a four horned altar. After having spent a couple of hours documenting the building’s architecture with his team, he proceeded into a library hall. It was then, while looking around, that something caught his eye on the lower shelf of a bookcase. It was a dust covered bundle of white paper with a note on the outside that read “Gottheil 22.” [2]
As the professor unwrapped the contents, to his astonishment, he began exposing one-thousand-year-old parchment pages, which he immediately recognized as biblical texts. The experience left him deeply affected. His journal entry from that day captures the moment. He wrote:
“A true treasure has been awaiting us for decades. Over the books and under heaps of dusty paper we began to unravel, one wrapping after another, more pieces of the MSS that were reviewed by Gottheil […]. I am blown away by the thought of the treasure that has been unraveled before us. Manuscripts that were written hundreds of years ago; some of them might be over a thousand years old.” [3]
What Meital didn’t know for sure, was that he had just discovered, or more accurately re-discovered, the crown of Cairo, now missing for almost forty years. How had the manuscript survived? Why was it left abandoned, and what was the meaning of the Hebrew writing “Gottheil 22?”
A Crown Incognito
On reflection, Meital and his colleagues realized that when the 1981 team documented the manuscripts in the synagogue, they identified them by the list in Gottheil’s original list, and attached numbers to them for this purpose. This reference to “Gottheil 22” was obviously such a reference. Strangely, though, a comparison with his list shows that manuscript number 22 actually refers to a different, less valuable manuscript.
The biblical codex described so far as the crown of Cairo was actually number 13. This means that from the time 22 was attached to the package, any observer relying on the number system without taking the time to investigate the contents, would have been unaware of the real treasure inside.
Could this mislabeling have somehow protected the manuscript from would-be vandals or profiteers? Could its survival have just been connected to individuals or events that are forever lost to history? At the time that Yoram Meital unwrapped the cheap white paper that enshrined this treasure, he immediately knew that it was something extraordinary. He recorded in his journal later that day:
“It would be difficult to remain indifferent to the beauty of this manuscript, which reflects the extraordinary talent of the artisans involved in its production. Especially impressive are the fine square Hebrew letters of the biblical text, the illustrations, the ornamentation, and the vocalization” [4].
Richard Gottheil’s own encounter with this and the other manuscripts a century earlier had a similarly profound impact on him. He recognized that among the treasures in the synagogue were manuscripts that could individually rival or excel the entire contents of the Cairo Genizah. He also realized how coveted they were. In 1905, he wrote:
“No wonder that such codices [are] highly prized; not many of our rich men would put their wealth into these books as rich Jews did in former times. Few of these MSS. even are to-day in Jewish hands.” [5]
Now, in 2017, historian Yoram Meital and the members of the Cairo synagogue documentation team had seemingly accidentally stumbled onto one of the most important from Gottheill’s list. In fact, it was at the top in terms of its value. But where were the others? And how could they be sure which one this was? Meital later queried:
“How is it, one wonders, that those manuscripts I found, which are a part of those described by Gottheil, are the ones that remained? It can be assumed that the Ben Asher manuscript, which was widely known and had a unique status, was removed from Egypt. At this point, we do not know whether it has been kept in its entirety or has been cut into several parts, nor do we know who is in possession of it or them. It can also be assumed that whoever removed the manuscript was well aware of its value. In addition, hardly any illustrated manuscripts remain from the collection described by Gottheil, and it can be assumed that whoever removed them from the full corpus did so deliberately, perhaps under the assumption that their monetary value would be higher.” [6]
Confirming the Facade
The precious keter that the earlier traveling Hebraist had discovered and documented in the 1905 publication was unique for several reasons. These very reasons allow for confirmation of the identity of the one Meital found. One of these is that it contained a colophon with rather extensive information. A colophon is a scribal note providing details related to original production.
In the case of this keter, it identifies the scribe who produced it, the location of production, the name of the individual who commissioned the codex, and the year and even day of completion. Additional information goes on even to document its later sale. This data was included in Gottheil’s original article, but to get at this information required sorting through the loose leaves as found by Meital. Perhaps a thief would not be capable or willing to do so. The colophon begins:
So, to begin with, we learn that the scribe who produced the manuscript was in fact Zechariah Ben Anan. Additionally, we learn that Zechariah completed the manuscript in the year AD 1028, according to the Gregorian calendar. Remarkably, this was only 20 years after the completion of the famed Leningrad Codex, which today serves as the standardized Hebrew text for Bibles today.
We also learn that the manuscript was produced for one Isaac the son of Efraim on the 8th of the Jewish month of Tammuz. Further study of the manuscript reveals that it was originally part of a complete Bible, though only contained the third section known as the Writings by the time Gottheil described it in his list. The manuscript is of a very high quality. Thankfully, although the storage conditions were poor as observed by Richard Gottheil, it is still one of the most complete and best preserved examples from the 11th century to date. (See invisible letters discovered on Dead Sea scroll fragments.)
A New Name for an “Old Cousin”
Like sailing vessels, monumental biblical manuscripts often receive an appellation so that their identity can be easily referenced. For example, the enormously important Aleppo Codex is so named because of its residence in Aleppo, Syria for an estimated 600 years. The medieval era Kennicott Bible is so named because it was acquired for Oxford by the famous Christian Hebraist, Benjamin Kennicott in the 18th century. After the 15th century Castilian-language Bible showed up in the Casa di Alba after a 130 year disappearance, it was named the Alba Bible.
When the crown of Cairo was rediscovered, it had survived over a century simply known as “#13” in Gottheil’s list. Part of this time, it sat unattended on a dusty shelf misidentified as “Gottheil #22.” Unlike what has happened in many other instances, the research team is resolutely committed to keeping this crown in its rightful home in Cairo.
Currently, it seems destined to play a much larger role as an Ambassador to the nations and unifier of communities. At first discovery, the synagogue documentation team referred to it as “Old Cousin.” But the Historian from the Ben Gurion University has appropriately renamed the manuscript for its new role. Inspired by its colophon, it is now officially designated the Zechariah Ben Anan Manuscript, or ZBAM for short. [7]
Conclusion: The Discovery is Just the Beginning
The day that Yoram Meital rediscovered the crown of Cairo was certainly epic. Obviously, it was pivotal for the manuscript and those invested in connected disciplines of research. Certainly it was monumental for the Cairo synagogue documentation team that was involved in its recovery. Most of all, perhaps, is its significance for both the history and future of its original community in Cairo.
Biblical manuscripts have a tendency to live lives that transcend time and connect great epochs in history. The ZBAM is such a manuscript and it gives us a direct link to the preservation of the Bible in the medieval era. It’s a physical, material reminder of the principle that God’s Word is eternally settled and endures throughout generations. This is a profound reality about which we should KEEP THINKING!
“Forever, O LORD, your word is firmly fixed in the heavens.” – Psalm 119:89 (ESV)
*ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: I am grateful for the kind and collegial interaction of Yoram Meital who expressed gratitude and warmth during this writing, and for the kind sentiments communicated to me from his Egyptian colleagues.
**This particular crown should not be confused with the famous Cairo Codex, also known as the Codex Cairensis
TOP PHOTO: One of the pyramids of Giza near Cairo, Egypt. (© 2002 Patterns of Evidence, LLC.)
NOTE: Not every view expressed by scholars contributing Thinker articles necessarily reflects the views of Patterns of Evidence. We include perspectives from various sides of debates on biblical matters so that readers can become familiar with the different arguments involved. – Keep Thinking!
REFERENCES
[1] Gottheil, Richard. “Some Hebrew Manuscripts in Cairo.” The Jewish Quarterly Review, vol. 17, no. 4, 1905, pp. 611. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/1451043. Accessed 9 Mar. 2020.
[2] The narrative depicting Yoram Meital’s rediscovery comes from his article, “A Thousand-Year-Old Biblical Manuscript Rediscovered in Cairo: The Future of the Egyptian Jewish Past.” The full reference is: Meital, Yoram. “A Thousand-Year-Old Biblical Manuscript Rediscovered in Cairo: The Future of the Egyptian Jewish Past.” Jewish Quarterly Review, vol. 110 no. 1, 2020, pp. 194-219. Project MUSE, doi:10.1353/jqr.2020.0006. P.199. Accessed 9 Mar. 2020.
[3] Ibid, 200.
[4] Ibid, 205.
[5] Gottheil, 613.
[6] Meital, n. 204.
[7] Ibid, 204.
