unbecoming their situation and — with such ferocity as to make one wonder’.10 No one dared support them. No one dared risk the wrath of the now solidly entrenched consensus. ‘And the scholarly sheep’, as Eisenman says, ‘fell into line.’11 So far as Roth and Driver were concerned, their interests and reputations weren’t confined exclusively to Qumran research. In consequence, they simply retired from the arena, not deeming it worthwhile to pursue the matter further. That this should have been allowed to happen testifies to the timidity and docility of other researchers in the field. It remains a black mark in the record of Qumran scholarship.
If the international team had exercised a monopoly before, their position now appeared to be unassailable. They had outmanoeuvred two of their most potentially formidable adversaries, and their triumph seemed to be complete. Roth and Driver had been driven to silence on the subject. Allegro had been discredited. Everyone else who might pose a threat had been intimidated into compliance. By the late 1960s and early 1970s, the hegemony of the international team was virtually absolute.
By the mid-1980s, such opposition as existed to the international team was scattered and disorganised. Most of it found expression in the United States, through a single journal,
The insiders, the scholars with the text assignments (T.H. Gaster, professor emeritus of Barnard College, Columbia University, calls these insiders ‘the charmed circle’), have the goodies — to drip out bit by bit. This gives them status, scholarly power and a wonderful ego trip. Why squander it? Obviously, the existence of this factor is controversial and disputed.14
That Smith’s exhortation was ignored again bears witness to academic faint-heartedness. At the same time, it must be mentioned that Smith’s exhortation was unfortunate in that it implicitly passed the blame from the international team, the real culprits, to the Israeli government, which had more immediate problems on its hands. The Israelis had kept their side of the bargain, made in 1967, that the international team would be allowed to retain their monopoly, provided they published; the international team had not. Thus, while the Israeli government might have been irresponsible in letting the situation continue, it was not to blame for the situation itself. As Eisenman soon came to realise, most Israelis — scholars and journalists alike, as well as government figures — were appallingly ignorant about the true situation, and, it must be said, indifferent to it. Through this ignorance and indifference, an outdated status quo had been allowed to continue intact.
In 1985, however, the same year as the conference reported by
The Department of Antiquities proceeded to confront the international team on the question of publication. What accounted for the procrastination and delays, and what kind of timetable for publication could reasonably be expected? The director of the team at the time was Father Benoit, who on 15 September 1985 wrote to his colleagues.17 In this letter, a copy of which is in our possession, he reminded them of Morton Smith’s call for immediate publication of photographs. He also complained (as if he were the aggrieved party) about the use of the word ‘scandal’, not just by Morton Smith, but by Ne’eman as well, in the Knesset. He went on to state his intention of recommending John Strugnell as ‘chief editor’ of future publications. And he requested a timetable for publication from each member of the team.
Compliance with Father Benoit’s request was dilatory and patchy. The Department of Antiquities, prodded by Ne’eman, wrote to him again on 26 December 1985, repeating its request for a report and for answers to the questions it had raised.18 One cannot be sure whether Benoit based his reply on reliable information received from his colleagues, or whether he was simply improvising in order to buy time. But he wrote to the Department of Antiquities promising definitively that everything in the international team’s possession would be published within seven years — that is, by 1993.19 This timetable was submitted, in writing, as a binding undertaking, but of course no one took it seriously, and in personal conversation with us, Ne’eman stated he had heard ‘on the grapevine’ that the timetable was generally regarded as a joke.20 It has certainly proved to be so. There is no prospect whatever of all the Qumran material, or even a reasonable part of it, appearing by 1993. Not even the whole of the material from Cave 4 has been published. Following Allegro’s volume for
Nonetheless, the intensifying pressure engendered panic among the international team. Predictably enough, a search began for a scapegoat. Who had brought the Israeli government into the affair? Who had briefed Ne’eman and enabled him to raise the issue in the Knesset? Perhaps because of the repetition of the word ‘scandal’, the team concluded Geza Vermes to have been responsible. In fact, Vermes had had nothing whatever to do with the matter. It was Robert Eisenman who had briefed Ne’eman.
Eisenman had learned from the omissions of Roth and Driver. He appreciated that the entire edifice of the international team’s consensus rested on the supposedly accurate data of archaeology and palaeography. Roth and Driver had correctly dismissed these data as irrelevant, but without confronting them. Eisenman resolved to challenge the international team on their own terrain — by exposing the methodology and demonstrating that the resulting data were irrelevant.
He opened his campaign with the book that first brought him to our attention,
Eisenman, however, refused to let his efforts be consigned to oblivion. By 1985, his second book,