Reverse Archaeology

Beit Guvrin, Israel

I stopped army-crawling for the first time in fifteen minutes and tried to catch my breath, nearly choking on rocks and dust. If I had been in this tunnel about 2,000 years ago, I would probably be very Jewish and I would probably be very afraid.

Jewish rebels dug out these underground tunnels and caves during the Third Jewish Revolt, also known as the Bar Kokhva Revolt in the early 130s AD, in which the Jewish people rose up against the Roman Empire for the third time in 70 years. These tunnels were used as supply caches and living quarters as the rebels successfully held off the Romans for four years from 132-136 AD. The entrances to these underground living quarters were purposely made to be small and tight fitting so that a Roman soldier in full armor and gear would be unable to fit in the tunnel. The rebels covered the entrances with brush and foliage; during raids or ambushs, the rebels would emerge from the ground and surprise-attack the Romans, and then disappear into these tunnels where the Romans couldn’t follow them. The Bar Kokhva rebels did this for several years before the Romans were able snuffs out the rebellion completely.

The tiny entrance of this cave featured a thirty-foot tunnel that revealed a large central cave that held entrances to other tunnels, which led to smaller spaces where two or three bodies could live and sleep. My merry band of rebels and I entered these caves and explored the adjoining tunnels for nearly an hour. Many of the tunnels were almost too small for even a small guy like me to get to my hands and knees so I dragged myself along on my stomach to squeeze through the rocky confines of these dark corridors.

After an hour of crawling around in the dark, my flashlight nearly dead, I ready to get out. I’m not claustrophobic but being thirty feet underground, closely surrounded by solid earth for a solid hour is a little disconcerting to say the least.

The exit tunnel was a little slit of space in the earthen floor that thoroughly tested one’s proficiency with the army crawl. One at a time we slithered through the opening to climb upwards towards the surface, squirming through narrow openings that I forced me twist and turn in all directions just to get my shoulders through. My arms ached from inching those first twenty feet but from what I was hearing from my comrades crawling ahead of me, I still had a long way to go.

My heart began to pound a bit harder, and it was already difficult to breathe in such tight spaces. Digging upwards, I began to crawl at the walls with renewed urgency. No Roman threat could heighten my desire to escape—not even Hamas could make me crawl faster through this tunnel than I was right now.

Soon I could see plant roots dangling from the rocks overhead, and the tunnel grew warm and steamy. I could see light ahead—real, natural light. One final push, one last tight opening to wriggle through. Covered in the same dust and dirt of the rebels who carved the caves, I pulled myself out of a hole in the ground into blinding light.

The relief and celebration that ensued was as if we’d found buried treasure. In a sense, we had. Sunlight.