Graham Hancock - The Sign and the Seal: The Quest for the Lost Ark of the Covenant

And as concerning the Ark of the Covenant the work thereof is marvellous. It catcheth the eye by force, and it astonisheth the mind and stupefieth it with wonder. It is a spiritual thing and is full of compassion; it is a heavenly thing and is full of light; it is a thing of freedom and a habitation ofthe Godhead, Whose habitation is in heaven and Whose place of movement is on the earth

Kebra Nagast, Ethiopia, thirteenth century

Also by Graham Hancock

Journey through Pakistan

Ethiopia: the Challenge of Hunger

AIDS: the Deadly Epidemic

Lords of Poverty

African Ark: Peoples of the Horn

Copyright 1992 by Graham Hancock

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L IBRARY OF C ONGRESS C ATALOGING-IN -P UBLICATION D ATA

Hancock, Graham.
The sign and the seal: the quest for the lost Ark of the Covenant / Graham Hancock.
p. cm.
1. Ark of the CovenantMiscellanea. 2. EthiopiaDescription and travel1981 3. Hancock, GrahamJourneysEthiopia. I. Title.
BM657.A8H36 1992
916.3047dc20 91-39041

eISBN: 978-0-307-82904-7

v3.1

First and foremost I want to thank Carol, my partner of ten years, for the precious gifts she gave me. Our marriage did not survive this book. I hope that our friendship will. Thanks, too, to my children: Sean and Leila, Luke and Gabrielle. Youve paid a heavy price for your dads commitment to his quest. I mean to make it up to you. Im enormously grateful to Donald and Muriel Hancock, to James Macaulay, and to Harold Elborn, for their constant support and interest, for their many readings of the evolving manuscript, and for the wealth of helpful suggestions and advice that they have offered. I would also like to put on record the appreciation that I feel for the invaluable contributions made by my friends Colin Skinner, Caroline Lasko, and Claire Lasko. As well as reading the manuscript at various stages, and commenting on it, they offered me consolation and solidarity in times of trouble and put up patiently with my often exasperating behaviour. In Ethiopia, Professor Richard Pankhurst was both a friend and a colleague to me. Im honoured to have worked so closely with him. And in England I benefitted greatly from the input of a series of research assistants: Sadie Maine, Alex MacIntyre, Claire Wise, David Mestecky and Julia Hallawell. In addition, my Anglophone editors on both sides of the Atlantic, Tom Weldon at Heinemann, Jim Wade at Crown, John Pearce at Doubleday Canada, as well as my literary agents Bill Hamilton and Sara Fisher, have all shown an interest in this project and a commitment to it that has been above and beyond the call of duty.

Many other people in many different walks of life have also helped along the way. Some would not want to be mentioned at all and others will, I hope, forgive me for not setting out here a list that would be too long for the available space. I cannot close, however, without expressing my very special thanks and gratitude to one person in particular Santha, who took most of the photographs in this book and who saved my life.

Graham Hancock, March 1992

It was growing dark and the air of the Ethiopian highlands was chill when the monk appeared. Stooped and leaning on a prayer stick he shuffled towards me from the doorway of the sanctuary chapel and listened attentively as I was introduced to him. Speaking in Tigrigna, the local language, he then sought clarification through my interpreter about my character and my motives: from which country had I come, what work did I do there, was I a Christian, what was it that I wanted from him?

I answered each of these questions fully, squinting through the gloom as I talked, trying to make out the details of my inquisitors face. Milky cataracts veiled his small sunken eyes and deep lines furrowed his black skin. He was bearded and probably toothless for although his voice was resonant it was also oddly slurred. All I could be sure of, however, was that he was an old man, as old as the century perhaps, that he had his wits about him, and that he did not seem to be seeking information about me out of idle curiosity. Only when he was satisfied with everything that I had said did he condescend to shake hands with me. His grip was dry and delicate as papyrus and from the thick robes that he wore, faint but unmistakable, arose the holy odour of frankincense.

Now that the formalities were over I got straight to the point. Gesturing in the direction of the building that loomed in shadowy outline behind us, I said: I have heard of an Ethiopian tradition that the Ark of the Covenant is kept here in this chapel. I have also heard that you are the guardian of the Ark. Are these things true?

They are true.

But in other countries nobody believes these stories. Few know about your traditions anyway, but those who do say that they are false.

People may believe what they wish. People may say what they wish. Nevertheless we do possess the sacred Tabot, that is to say the Ark of the Covenant, and I am its guardian

Let me be clear about this, I interjected. Are you referring to the original Ark of the Covenant the box made of wood and gold in which the Ten Commandments were placed by the prophet Moses?

Yes. God Himself inscribed the ten words of the law upon two tablets of stone. Moses then placed these tablets inside the Ark of the Covenant which afterwards accompanied the Israelites during their wanderings in the wilderness and their conquest of the Promised Land. It brought them victory wherever they went and made them a great people. At last, when its work was done, King Solomon placed it in the Holy of Holies of the Temple that he had built in Jerusalem. And from there, not long afterwards, it was removed and brought to Ethiopia

Tell me how this happened, I asked. What I know of your traditions is only that the Queen of Sheba is supposed to have been an Ethiopian monarch. The legends I have read say that when she made her famous journey to Jerusalem she was impregnated by King Solomon and bore him a son a royal prince who in later years stole the Ark

The monk sighed. The name of the prince you are speaking of was Menelik which in our language means the son of the wise man. Although he was conceived in Jerusalem he was born in Ethiopia where the Queen of Sheba had returned after discovering that she was carrying Solomons child. When he had reached the age of twenty, Menelik himself travelled from Ethiopia to Israel and arrived at his fathers court. There he was instantly recognized and accorded great honour. After a year had passed, however, the elders of the land became jealous of him. They complained that Solomon showed him too much favour and they insisted that he must go back to Ethiopia. This the king accepted on the condition that the first-born sons of all the elders should also be sent to accompany him. Amongst these latter was Azarius, son of Zadok the High Priest of Israel, and it was Azarius, not Menelik, who stole the Ark of the Covenant from its place in the Holy of Holies in the Temple. Indeed the group of young men did not reveal the theft to Menelik until they were far away from Jerusalem. When at last they told him what they had done he understood that they could not have succeeded in so bold a venture unless God had willed it. Therefore he agreed that the Ark should remain with them. And it was thus that it was brought to Ethiopia, to this sacred city and here it has remained ever since.