
Great Pyramid timeline shattered as new clues point to older origins
'I don't seek to take it away from them, but I think they were inheriting a very ancient tradition and completing a monument that already stood in basic form on the Giza Plateau.' One of Hancock's central arguments centers on the erosion patterns of the nearby Great Sphinx , saying that only heavy rainfall over thousands of years could have caused such deep weathering. 'No such rains were on the Giza Plateau 4,500 years ago, but they certainly were at the end of the last Ice Age,' he said.
However, renowned Egyptologist Dr Zahi Hawass has disputed these claims . He told the Daily Mail he had discovered workers' tombs dating to the 13th century BC and dismissed the erosion theory, attributing the Sphinx's damage to millennia of wind, not rain. 'If someone built this pyramid 12,000 years ago, aren't you going to leave any evidence at the site to prove that?' said Dr Hawass. 'Me and my colleague, Mark Lehner, have excavated Giza for the last 50 years. All that we discovered until now has to do with the Fourth Dynasty.'
The Great Pyramid of Giza is the largest Egyptian pyramid, and was constructed by Pharaoh Khufu, who ruled during the Fourth Dynasty of the Old Kingdom. It is one of three within the Giza plateau, the other two include the Pyramid of Khafre and the Pyramid of Menkaure, as well as the Great Sphinx. All shrouded in mystery due to their unclear construction methods, precise astronomical alignment and still-debated purpose. Dr Hawass shared further insights during a July appearance on the Matt Beall Limitless podcast, including details about a planned excavation inside the Great Pyramid to search for Khufu's lost tomb.
Hancock, however, remains unconvinced that any burial ever took place inside. 'It's well known that no burial of any Pharaoh was ever found in the Great Pyramid or, for that matter, in any of the 100 pyramids in Egypt,' said Hancock, who is known for his controversial theories about ancient civilizations. 'It's well known that no burial of any Pharaoh was ever found in the Great Pyramid or, for that matter, in any of the 100 pyramids in Egypt,' said hancock. 'Some of that can be attributed to tomb robbery, but in the case of the Great Pyramid, it was completely closed and sealed until Arab raiders under Khalif Ma'mun broke in.
'They were expecting to find enormous treasures and wealth, but instead, they found a completely empty building with nothing inside.' Hancock also rejected the mainstream view that the Great Pyramid was built in just 23 years during Khufu's reign, calling that idea 'absurd.' Instead, he proposed that the structure may have taken hundreds, even thousands, of years to complete.
Adding to his theory, Hancock pointed to the massive bedrock foundations beneath the three pyramids at Giza, naturally existing formations that were leveled before construction. While most archaeologists believe the foundations are natural, Hancock believes the platforms themselves are much older. He linked the structures to a lost epoch known in Egyptian lore as Zep Tepi, or 'The First Time,' citing astronomical alignments between the pyramid platforms and Orion's Belt as it appeared 12,500 years ago.
'At 4,500 years ago, the stars of Orion's Belt didn't match up,' he said. 'The Great Sphinx was looking at the sun rising against the background of Taurus. But in 12,500 BC, it aligned perfectly with Leo.' Dr Hawass, however, dismissed Hancock's claims as unfounded, emphasizing that the ancient Egyptians left behind detailed records of the Great Pyramid's construction. 'The Wadi El-Jarf Papyri is a diary from an overseer named Merer,' he said. 'He wrote, 'I am from the Delta. I was hired by Khufu and held the title of inspector, with 40 workmen under me.'
The papyri also describe how Merer led crews to the Tura quarries to cut fine white limestone, which was then transported on wooden sledges to cargo boats. These vessels docked at harbors built in front of each pyramid. 'Egyptian history has no gaps that would justify dating the pyramids to 12,000 or 20,000 years ago,' Hawass added. 'That era, known as the Epipaleolithic period, marked the earliest stages of civilization, far too primitive for monuments of this scale.'
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


The Independent
2 hours ago
- The Independent
Shroud of Turin imprint might not be from human body, study says
The imprint of a human-like figure on the Shroud of Turin may have come from a shallow sculpture and not an actual person, according to a new study that sheds more light on the world's most studied archaeological artefact. The shroud measuring 14ft by 3.6ft first emerged in the 1350s, bearing the faint image of a man that many believe to be the imprint of Jesus Christ. It displays the frontal and dorsal figures of an adult man with signs of physical violence. Researchers have long debated the origin of the linen cloth, with some dating it to around the time of Jesus Christ's crucifixion and others deeming it a medieval forgery. Now, a study by a Brazilian designer claims the shroud is most likely 'a medieval work of art'. Cicero Morares is known for using 3D digital modelling to analyse how different types of cloth drape over various shapes or figures and to map their respective contact areas. The study, published in the journal Archaeometry, employs an open-source software to assess how fabric forms impressions from a full three-dimensional human body as compared to a low-relief sculpture formed by raising a figure slightly from a flat background. 'Two scenarios were compared,' the study says, 'the projection of a three-dimensional human model and that of a low-relief model.' The low-relief figure produced an imprint on the fabric similar to that on the Turin shroud. 'The results demonstrate that the contact pattern generated by the low-relief model is more compatible with the Shroud's image,' it concludes. Morares says the scenario of fabric contouring a low-relief sculpture shows greater similarity to the observed contours on the shroud while the projection of a 3D human body results in a 'significantly distorted image'. The designer suspects such a sculpture may have been made of wood, stone or metal and likely pigmented only in the areas of contact to produce the kind of pattern seen on the shroud. 'The accessible and replicable methodology suggests that the shroud's image is more consistent with an artistic low-relief representation than with the direct imprint of a real human body,' the study says. The findings, according to the Brazilian researcher, supports a hypothesis of the shroud's origin 'as a medieval work of art'.


The Guardian
14 hours ago
- The Guardian
The Origin of Language by Madeleine Beekman review – the surprising history of speech
The story of human evolution has undergone a distinct feminisation in recent decades. Or, rather, an equalisation: a much-needed rebalancing after 150 years during which, we were told, everything was driven by males strutting, brawling and shagging, with females just along for the ride. This reckoning has finally arrived at language. The origins of our species' exceptional communication skills constitutes one of the more nebulous zones of the larger evolutionary narrative, because many of the bits of the human anatomy that allow us to communicate – notably the brain and the vocal tract – are soft and don't fossilise. The linguistic societies of Paris and London even banned talk of evolution around 1870, and the subject only made a timid comeback about a century later. Plenty of theories have been tossed into the evidentiary void since then, mainly by men, but now evolutionary biologist Madeleine Beekman, of the University of Sydney, has turned her female gaze on the problem. Her theory, which she describes as having been hiding in plain sight, is compelling: language evolved in parallel with caring for our 'underbaked' newborns, because looking after a creature as helpless as a human baby on the danger-filled plains of Africa required more than one pair of hands (and feet). It needed a group among whom the tasks of food-gathering, childcare and defence could be divided. A group means social life, which means communication. The evidence to support Beekman's theory isn't entirely lacking, though a lot of it is, necessarily, circumstantial. We know that the compromise that natural selection hit upon to balance the competing anatomical demands of bipedalism and an ever-expanding brain was to have babies come out early – before that brain and its bony casing were fully formed. One of the discoveries of the newly feminised wave of evolutionary science has been that alloparents – individuals other than the biological parents who contribute parenting services – played a critical role in ensuring the survival of those half-cooked human children. Another is that stone age women hunted alongside men. In the past it was assumed that hunting bands were exclusively male, and one theory held that language arose to allow them to cooperate. But childcare was another chore that called for cooperation, probably also between genders, and over years, not just hours or days. Luckily, the reconfiguration of the head and neck required to accommodate the ballooning brain had a side-effect of remoulding the throat, giving our ancestors more precise control over their utterances. With the capacity to generate a large range of sounds came the ability to convey a large range of meanings. To begin with, this was useful for coordinating childcare, but as speech became more sophisticated, alloparents – particularly grandmothers – used it to transmit their accumulated knowledge, thereby nurturing infants who were even better equipped to survive. The result of this positive feedback loop was Homo sapiens, the sole survivor of a once diverse lineage. Alas, Beekman takes a very long time to get to this exciting idea. She spends about half the book laying the groundwork, padding it out with superfluous vignettes as if she is worried the centre won't hold. Once she gets there, she makes some thought-provoking observations. Full-blown language probably emerged about 100,000 years ago, she thinks, but only in our line – not in those of our closest relatives. 'We may have made babies with Neanderthals and Denisovans,' she writes, 'but I don't think we had much to talk about.' And whereas others have argued that language must have predated Homo sapiens, because without it the older species Homo erectus couldn't have crossed the forbidding Wallace Line – the deep-water channel that separates Asia and Australasia – she draws on her deep knowledge of social insects to show that communication as relatively unsophisticated as that of bees or ants could have done the made a persuasive case for the role of alloparents in the evolution of language, Beekman concludes that we did ourselves a disservice when we shrank our basic unit of organisation down from the extended to the nuclear family. Maybe, but historians including Peter Laslett have dated this important shift to the middle ages, long before the Industrial Revolution where she places it, and the damage isn't obvious yet. Language is still being soaked up by young children; it's still a vehicle for intergenerational learning. It may take a village to raise a child, but as Beekman herself hints, a village can be constituted in different ways. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion The Origin of Language: How We Learned to Speak and Why by Madeleine Beekman is published by Simon & Schuster (£25). To support the Guardian buy a copy at Delivery charges may apply.


The Guardian
19 hours ago
- The Guardian
Animals keep evolving into anteaters. Could this be the future of humanity?
Who doesn't love an anteater? I mean, apart from ants, obviously. With their long snouts and even longer sticky tongues, they trundle around, slurping up insects like milkshakes. They have handsome, bushy tails, which they wrap around themselves at night like a blanket. And they're excellent parents. Giant anteater mothers allow their young to cling to their backs, rucksack-style, for periods of up to a year. Indeed, the surrealist artist Salvador Dalí was so taken with the giant anteater that he once took one for a walk through the streets of Paris. And before you ask, no, this wasn't a cheese dream. There is photographic evidence. As if that weren't enough, a recent study published in the journal Evolution has found that mammals have evolved into anteaters not once, not twice, but 12 times since the demise of the dinosaurs some 66m years ago. Anteaters, it seems, are a recurring trend. The finding prompted the study's lead author, Thomas Vida from the University of Bonn, to tell Science magazine: 'Things keep evolving into anteaters, somehow.' Which raises the question: will humans one day follow suit? By 'things', Vida means mammals, and by 'anteaters' he includes the four species of anteater from Central and South America, the pangolins and aardvarks of Africa and Asia, and the echidnas of Australia. Different animals, on different continents, that all practise myrmecophagy, also known as the consumption of termites and ants. If you were a parent of young children, you'd call them fussy eaters. If you were an evolutionary biologist, however, you'd point out that they're not being deliberately difficult. Instead, they have evolved to fill a very particular ecological niche. That niche is provided by the world's extensive population of ants and termites, some 15,000 species, whose collective biomass is more than 10 times greater than that of all wild mammals. At least a dozen times in evolutionary history, mammals decided that if you can't beat them, eat them, and began to consume the crunchy delicacy. Such an abundant food source can act as what biologists call a 'selective pressure'. Characteristics that enabled animals to eat more ants and termites – and thus survive better – are more likely to be passed on. Over millions of years, animals from all three major groups of mammal life, including marsupials and the egg-laying monotremes, evolved to have long, sticky tongues, reduced or missing teeth and strong forelimbs for busting into insect nests. It's a powerful example of convergent evolution, the phenomenon by which different species, in different places or times, independently evolve similar characteristics. Faced with the same problem – how do I eat these ants? – they all arrived at a similar solution. So, though they're not closely related, they possess features that are superficially similar. Convergent evolution is how echolocation (the ability to determine the location of objects using reflected sound) evolved separately in bats and dolphins, camera-like eyes evolved in octopuses and vertebrates, and opposable digits evolved in primates, koalas and chameleons. Powered flight has evolved independently at least four times – in birds, bats, pterosaurs and insects – and venom production more than 100 times, while crustaceans have evolved the classic, crab-like body plan at least five times. Known as carcinisation, it has spawned crabby memes aplenty. The evolutionary biologist Simon Conway Morris has used convergent evolution to argue that evolution is both deterministic and predictable. Rewind the tape of life, play it over again and similar-looking lifeforms would evolve, he says. This means that in theory, with enough time (many tens of millions of years), the appearance and retention of the requisite genetic mutations and, critically, the same selective pressures that shaped the emergence of former ant-eating animals, some mammals – including maybe us – could evolve gummy mouths and sticky tongues. Forget the history books, it's the cookery books that would be rewritten. Only there's a fly in the ointment. We're wrong to presume that because myrmecophagy has evolved multiple times, it is the pinnacle of some evolutionary tree. There are, after all, many more mammals that have not evolved into anteaters than have started breaking into termite mounds. The fact that convergent evolution occurs does not necessarily make it the default pathway. In addition, evolution has a way of pulling the rug. It can be predictable, but it can also be quirky and erratic. In his 1989 book, Wonderful Life, another titan of evolutionary biology, Stephen Jay Gould, argued for the importance of random events. These can be anything from lightning strikes to asteroid impacts: any unforeseen occurrence that derails the prevailing trajectory of evolution and sends it along a different path. In other words, 'sliding doors' moments that have been influencing evolution for as long as there has been life on Earth. So, just because things kept 'evolving into anteaters' in the past, doesn't mean that history will repeat itself. Which is a shame. Anteaters and aardvarks don't typically eat all of the ants or termites in a nest, but leave some behind so the colony can rebuild itself. This makes them the epitome of sustainable living. If we can't evolve into them, we can at least learn from them. Helen Pilcher is a science writer and the author of Bring Back the King: The New Science of De-Extinction and Life Changing: How Humans are Altering Life on Earth