Disestablishmentarianism

Sometimes the punchline falls on the storyteller.

Those of a certain age may recall the once-popular term disestablishmentarianism. At 24 letters, it's nearly the length of the entire alphabet. This term originated in the 18th century to describe a movement aimed at freeing oneself from the grip of established religious institutions. It saw a revival among countercultural figures in the 1960s, symbolizing a desire to break free from entrenched political systems.

A disestablishmentarian movement is emerging in the realm of Egyptology. Individuals captivated by the wonders of ancient Egypt, who observe archaeological evidence diverging from the established academic narrative, find themselves needing to shed the oppressive weight of the accepted story.

Evidence supporting an alternative history is surfacing, often documented through high-definition videos.

Herodotus (circa 484 — circa 425 BC), the Greek historian known for his writings about Egypt, poetically asserted that the ancient Egyptian civilization was “the gift of the Nile.” In contrast, Egyptology is the gift of European scholarship. In a nation where the remnants of imperialism are largely reviled, Egyptology stands as an exception.

Contemporary Egyptian authorities remain sensitive about adhering to the established narratives of Egyptology, which have roots in the 18th and 19th centuries, primarily through exploration—often labeled as looting—by French, German, Italian, and English adventurers. Later, Americans joined this historical exploration.

Major collections of Egyptian artifacts, housed in venues like the Louvre, the British Museum, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, began during this era. The individuals involved vied for recognition in weaving a narrative that accounted for millennia of history.

With an air of arrogance, some prominent Egyptologists proclaim, “I discovered this! It was me!” This is usually followed by, “I know everything definitively. I am always right, pyramidiot!” Believe or leave.

For centuries, Europeans and Americans took as much as they could from Egypt, moving artifacts to museums and institutions for further study. Extensive galleries are filled with mummies, statues, and an endless array of fascinating objects—sometimes even complete temple interiors. Much more remains in storage, hidden from view.

However, this accumulation barely scratches the surface of what still lies within Egypt.

Tourism has long been a cornerstone of the Egyptian economy. The 2011 revolution and the pandemic severely impacted this vital source of income. Consequently, the Egyptian antiquities administration has opened previously restricted archaeological sites for paid access.

This newfound accessibility has allowed savvy, well-researched individuals, equipped with modern technology, to explore significant and often overlooked sites—unhindered by the rigid academic framework. Armed with high-quality cameras, these intrepid explorers are combing the Giza Plateau, Saqqara, and other locations along the Nile for evidence that starkly contradicts mainstream Egyptology.

By funding their own permits to photograph these previously off-limits areas, these independent researchers continue to gather and share documentary evidence of advanced artifacts that standard narratives fail to explain adequately.

To those of us unable to experience these wonders firsthand, a heartfelt thank you for your meticulous efforts! (Special thanks to Ben at UnchartedX).

The stone containers in question have emerged with an even larger and more surprising presence than previously acknowledged.

So We Are Told

Authority can be rather dismissive when challenged.

For centuries, Eurocentric scholars have traced the origins of Western culture back to ancient Classical Greece, often viewing it as disconnected from the far older civilization along the Nile. However, the Greeks proudly acknowledged their pursuit of knowledge in Egypt, often declaring that they sought education there. The connections between the Greek and ancient Egyptian cultures extend back approximately 2,500 years.

The continuity of ancient Egyptian civilization is unparalleled in human history. The roots of Egyptian culture reach twice as far back in time as its eventual decline, compared to our distance from the dawn of the Roman Empire.

Cultural practices and rituals persisted largely unchanged for three millennia before the Greeks arrived. Distinguishing between a statue from the 3rd or 1st millennium BC can be nearly impossible based on superficial features alone.

Architectural remnants consistently display the same forms, century after century. A glance at any temple, irrespective of its construction date, instantly reveals its Egyptian origin. This civilization etched their values and beliefs in stone and papyrus (and prior to that, animal skins). They diligently maintained their cultural identity over an extended period.

Yet, a paradox exists. The most impressive and technically sophisticated artifacts from ancient Egypt are also the oldest. As time progressed, the scale and craftsmanship noticeably declined. The Egyptians were known to usurp monuments left by their predecessors; merely because a later king's name appears on a stone doesn't imply that it was created during their reign.

For instance, if you encounter a colossal object attributed to Pharaoh Ramses II (1303 BC–1213 BC), it's wise to reconsider. Yes, his cartouche (name) is inscribed, but did the object predate that inscription?

Countless artifacts made from exceptionally hard stones like granite or diorite exhibit incredibly precise finishes. In contrast, the hieroglyphic inscriptions on them often appear as rough, wobbly markings, suggesting a discrepancy in craftsmanship. For those not bound by the dogmas of academic Egyptology, these inscriptions starkly contrast with the overall quality of the objects. Two distinct timelines emerge.

The belief that an earlier phase of cultural history could be more technically advanced than later periods contradicts the prevailing view among Western scholars, who generally assume that time brings greater accomplishments. Since Egyptology was largely shaped by Western perspectives, this bias is embedded in the narrative they constructed.

Independent researchers, often viewed with skepticism by academics, have highlighted this conceptual inconsistency for decades. The works of John Anthony West, Graham Hancock, Robert Schoch, Robert Bauval, and others, which gained traction in the early 1990s, were met with disdain by Egyptologists. Their popularity prompted readers to ask challenging questions.

If Egyptologists couldn't dismiss these inquiries with laughter, they would do so with disdain.

These free-thinking authors were unafraid to point out the obvious. Egyptologists generally ignored, dismissed, or actively criticized these contributions. The reasons for their disdain are mostly protective, focused on maintaining status and preserving the integrity of their credentials. When an outsider suggests a reevaluation of established beliefs, it's often met with defensive tactics.

It is now possible for anyone to discover that the Great Sphinx at Giza might genuinely be thousands of years older than Egyptology acknowledges, but the remarkable enigma of the stone boxes has received less scrutiny.

Sample The Inscrutable

Mysteries invite exploration with an open mind.

The largest known collection of stone boxes resides at the Serapeum in Saqqara. The prevailing narrative suggests that these enormous containers were crafted to house the remains of bulls sacred to the Egyptian god Ptah, the creator of the material world. The Apis bulls symbolized the earthly manifestation of this deity, referred to as Serapis by the Greeks (the Egyptians called him Hapi), giving rise to the temple complex known as the Serapeum.

Initially constructed as isolated structures, the Serapeum later expanded into extensive underground galleries. The “Lesser Vaults” are attributed to the New Kingdom period (circa 1570 BC to circa 1111 BC), although their dating varies. An earthquake caused a portion of their ceiling to collapse, preventing further investigation.

The “Greater Vaults,” associated with the 26th Dynasty (664 BC-525 BC) and subsequent Ptolemaic rulers (305 BC-30 BC), are accessible to visitors.

Nestled within niches along the tunnel system (and one positioned mid-corridor) are 24 stone boxes weighing between 70 and 100 tons. All of these “sarcophagi” far exceed the dimensions of any known royal burial containers. They are situated mere feet from the walls of their chambers.

Notably, the floors of the caverns where these stone boxes rest can be over 8 feet lower than the walkway of the tunnels. Maneuvering and positioning these substantial objects in such confined spaces would have posed a remarkable engineering challenge.

The Serapeum was discovered in the mid-19th century by Frenchman Auguste Mariette (1821–1881). He returned to the Louvre with 230 crates of treasure, splitting the find with the Egyptian government. This indicated that the site had not been looted in antiquity. Except for one box, which Mariette dynamited to access, the 20–30 ton lids of the stone boxes were found misaligned and open. Inside, it is claimed, there were remnants of a dried black substance.

Differences exist among the boxes in their construction. The surfaces of these artifacts typically exhibit a shiny finish, suggesting that some type of liquid was employed for polishing, as evidenced by drip stains beneath the lids that match the exterior patina. While some black granite boxes bear hieroglyphs or decorative patterns, these markings are often shallow and appear to have been added long after the original surface finishing.

One notable box, made of red granite sourced from Aswan, approximately 500 miles away, features well-executed hieroglyphic inscriptions and incised reliefs of traditional palace wall designs, known as serekh panels. The precision of the decorative work stands out against the less shiny surface.

This container is attributed to the 26th Dynasty Pharaoh Amasis II (reigned 570–526 BC, the last before Persian domination). Its 30-ton lid was awkwardly left near the entrance, raising questions about whether it was a found object later adorned with decoration.

Measurements to determine if the lid fits the red granite box bottom were not accessible in the available research. Such details are essential because inconsistencies are sometimes overlooked in Egyptology to maintain established narratives.

Egyptologists claim that these massive containers were all created within a few centuries during the late Dynastic and Ptolemaic periods.

Eighteen of the boxes are made from a black igneous rock with varying classifications, whether granite, grano-diorite, or other equally dense minerals. They share similar shapes and exhibit unusual “scoop” marks, yet maintain a fine polish.

Aside from the red granite box linked to Pharaoh Amasis II, there are two additional smaller, unfinished boxes made from more easily shaped limestone, likely produced during the Ptolemaic era.

Another smaller red granite box, with inscribed hieroglyphs, is more carefully crafted. It was moved out of its niche in antiquity, seemingly left in a corridor, suggesting an intent for reuse.

The techniques and tools employed for shaping hard stones remained consistent throughout this historical timeframe. Why, then, would there be such a notable disparity in quality among objects crafted for the same sacred purpose over a short period? The ancient Egyptians were known for their commitment to preserving cultural forms.

Some researchers posit that the greater quantity of black granite boxes represents artifacts the Egyptians discovered and repurposed. They were able to relocate some, though the means remain unclear. While some boxes received superficial alterations with poorly executed decorations, others remain unmarked and polished.

Why the difference? Were certain sacred Apis bulls deemed more deserving of decoration than others? While the ancient Egyptians mastered consistency, Egyptologists often overlook this concept in their explanations.

Some speculate that when the Egyptians exhausted their supply of discoverable boxes, they resorted to crafting their own. Generally, these later examples discovered in the Serapeum were not fully finished or positioned.

Such hypotheses are intolerable to Egyptologists.

A plethora of images and videos (check out the catalog of the UnchartedX YouTube channel) produced by independent researchers reveals a clear distinction in technique, skill, and finishing between the majority of the boxes in the Serapeum and those of more recent creation.

If the ancient Egyptians indeed found these boxes and adapted them for their own needs, who were their original creators?

The stone boxes at the Serapeum captivate the imagination, yet deeper and possibly more significant questions arise regarding others discovered along the Nile.

Look Closer

Once settled in a narrative, one might cease to perceive reality.

Numerous locations linked to the earliest epochs of Egyptian history feature stone boxes embedded within significant monuments. The academic refrain of sarcophagi, sarcophagi, sarcophagi reverberates through scholarly circles. Clearly, at some point, Egyptians embraced the practice of being interred within stone containers, justifying their classification as sarcophagi.

However, this does not rule out the possibility that some of these boxes—and the surrounding underground chambers—were already in place. In various instances, Egyptians constructed structures atop them using entirely different architectural techniques and materials.

Moreover, if one entertains the notion that the boxes were pre-existing, a straightforward distinction can be made between earlier and later containers. From the dawn of their civilization, ancient Egyptians adored rich, colorful decorations. The boxes in question, however, are devoid of ornamentation (unless added later as poorly executed afterthoughts).

Everyone is familiar with the Great Pyramids on the Giza plateau, attributed to the Fourth Dynasty (circa 2613 BC to 2494 BC, according to standard historical accounts).

Generations of Egyptologists have fervently declared these towering structures as tombs for Fourth Dynasty Pharaohs Khufu, Khafre, and Menkaure, surrounded by a vast necropolis of ornately decorated tombs for nobles and favored individuals. Yet, the interiors of the two largest pyramids are barren.

How are we to accept that these mighty Pharaohs ventured into the afterlife without the painted scenes, sculpted architectural details, engraved texts, and human-sized corridors deemed essential by the elite of the Old Kingdom?

This notion is absurd, yet it has persisted for centuries due to the existence of later, smaller pyramids featuring decorated interiors, which qualify as tombs—thus allowing larger structures to be similarly categorized in the eyes of Egyptologists. This acceptance has been unquestioned because, after all, weren't these scholars supposed to be knowledgeable?

The same conceptual flaw applies to stone boxes. Later containers were indeed crafted as coffins. Over time, their design evolved from rectangular boxes to “mummiform” shapes to better accommodate human remains. These burial boxes were richly adorned with hieroglyphs, serekh panels, deity images, and even depictions of the deceased.

The “sarcophagus” of Pharaoh Khafre displays no embellishments, nor does the supposed coffin of Pharaoh Khufu in the nearby larger pyramid. Did the Pharaoh lack the resources to finish the interior of his eternal resting place?

An intriguing tale surrounds the “sarcophagus” found within the third, smaller pyramid at Giza. Attributed to the Fourth Dynasty Pharaoh Menkaure, it contained a decorated stone box that the British later attempted to transport to London.

First, they successfully extracted it from the pyramid, which is impossible for the plain box of Khufu due to the small openings to the chamber. The Khufu box was present during construction. However, the box within the Third Pyramid was movable. Unfortunately, the ship carrying it sank en route to England.

We can never ascertain whether this object was original to the pyramid's construction or introduced later. Interestingly, unlike the larger pyramids, some chambers within the smaller Third Pyramid feature minimal decorative architectural elements. It's reasonable to question whether these, along with the presence of the removable box, indicate a reuse of an existing underground space.

Could it be that the earliest, larger, and structurally sophisticated stone pyramids were built to mark sacred sites that held tangible remains linked to an earlier civilization?

Two Levels of Technology, One Site

To explore the notion that Egyptian monumental structures were later creations signifying something significant that was already there, we can examine several examples. These highlight stark contrasts in construction techniques.

The pyramid of Pharaoh Senusret II (12th Dynasty, reigned 1897 BC-1878 BC) stands as a vast, crumbling mud brick structure at Lahun near the Nile in the Fayum. The outer limestone casing was pilfered by Pharaoh Ramses II in the 19th Dynasty. Consequently, the exposed mud bricks (unlike the stone of the older Giza pyramids) have suffered weathering. Numerous peculiarities surround this pyramid, including the location of its entrance.

The substructure beneath the pyramid is constructed from large, finely wrought granite blocks. This chamber features a rare arched ceiling, reminiscent of the one within the Third Pyramid at Giza, which was supposedly built 600–700 years earlier.

Inside lies what can arguably be deemed the most enigmatic object in all of Egypt: a large stone box.

The precision and polish of this artifact are unmatched. Crafted from a single block of red granite, it boasts an unusual shape that slopes from one end to the other. A deep lip encircles all four edges at the top, suggesting intentional design, though its purpose remains a mystery.

This box does not resemble any other “sarcophagus” found in Egypt. It may not have originally served as a Pharaoh's coffin but could have been repurposed for that function.

A similarly perplexing mystery arises from Mastaba 17, a monument attributed to the Fourth Dynasty near Meidum. Beneath a dilapidated mud brick structure lies an enormous megalithic stone chamber containing a precisely cut stone box. The esteemed 19th-century Egyptologist Flinders Petrie marveled at this space, describing the box's shape as “this early type.”

Granite boxes of this form frequently appear in very ancient Egyptian constructions. Among all ancient “sarcophagus” shapes, this particular one is the most common. Meticulously fashioned from a single piece of granite, the lid features raised rectangular edges and “bosses” or knobs at either end.

Notably, the same “boss” elements appear on precisely finished massive granite blocks at large-scale ruins in South America, such as Ollantaytambo in Peru, among many others. This suggests a shared technological approach to crafting large hard stone pieces across two distant continents at an ancient date. How could this be?

Herein lies a problem.

According to the conventional academic perspective, when these stone boxes were supposedly created, the Egyptians (and Peruvians) had only copper chisels. Eventually, bronze was introduced for the Egyptians. Neither metal effectively cuts granite; bronze barely chips it, and the edge wears out quickly. The fine precision exhibited in the stone boxes is remarkable, even by modern standards. The creation of perfect 90-degree interior corners defies explanation using the tools believed to have been available.

While Egyptologists may be comfortable with their established narrative, anyone examining the evidence can clearly see that there is more at play than their explanations suggest.

Not From Around There

Now, the crux of the matter.

In his dialogue Timaeus, Plato (circa 420-340 BC) presents the tale of a lost civilization he names Atlantis. He recounts that the Atlantean culture flourished on a group of islands beyond the Straits of Gibraltar, but extended its influence into the Mediterranean:

“…of the lands here within the Straits they ruled over Libya as far as Egypt, and over Europe as far as Tuscany.”

Plato's account clearly indicates that Atlanteans were present in what we now call Egypt. According to an ancient Egyptian priest, this civilization existed around 9,600 years before Solon, Plato's ancestor (approximately 11,600 years ago).

This timeline aligns with a catastrophic event that obliterated the Atlantean homeland. Scientific theories are gradually acknowledging that this event may have involved multiple impacts from cometary debris, known today as the Taurid stream, striking the Earth. This narrative is referred to as the Young Dryas Impact Theory, which describes a cataclysm that caused mass extinctions and significant destruction across large areas of North America.

A substantial body of scientific evidence has been compiled in peer-reviewed journals, affirming that this apocalypse indeed occurred. Interestingly, this timeline coincides with Plato's narrative of Atlantis's downfall.

Oh, no, don't make me look!

We're revisiting the deeply held Western belief that progress follows a linear trajectory; the perception of history as an arrow rather than a cycle. The entire framework of modern thought is predicated on this idea, and there are numerous reasons to question its validity. The oldest stone boxes in Egypt are among these reasons.

Those willing to investigate have compiled evidence of high-precision engineering techniques at archaeological sites throughout Egypt. Hundreds of perfectly drilled holes in hard rock, for instance, resemble the work done with power tools equipped with diamond-tipped drills. How did individuals with copper tools accomplish this?

Numerous blocks of granite have been documented with radial saw marks, including those found in the Great Pyramid. Similar marks can be observed across the Giza Plateau and at other sites. An excellent example resides in the Cairo Museum. In some instances, the saw marks reveal that the cut went awry at high speed before it could be halted, a feat impossible if done by hand.

Egyptologists are not unaware of these observations. The issue lies in their interpretative framework; they prioritize existing narratives over tangible evidence. If something doesn't conform, they simply dismiss it.

Moreover, how does this same technology manifest across the world in South America?

Egyptologists often seek manufacturing methods that align with their beliefs. One individual demonstrated a rudimentary technique (using sand, water, and a copper saw) to create a v-shaped groove in a granite block about a quarter inch deep over several days, deeming it adequate. This approach fails to address the precision evident in the ancient Egyptian context.

A striking example of this approach occurred in an old NOVA program, where a prominent Egyptologist attempted to demonstrate how a pyramid could have been constructed. He resorted to using a powered forklift. Such shortcuts to validate an existing storyline serve as mere window dressing, not genuine solutions.

Firmly entrenched in a conceptual bias, Egyptologists assert that there is no way Plato's story could hold true. He described a “Bronze Age” culture, as that was the pinnacle of civilization known to him. Yet the evidence we uncover suggests a far greater technical capability.

Where, Egyptologists inquire, is the proof of an advanced civilization in the distant past?

It's right before their eyes along the Nile. The ancient Egyptians built over the ruins of the Atlanteans they encountered, repurposing these structures for their own needs. Plato bluntly states that Atlanteans were present in Egypt, possibly seeking refuge from a catastrophic comet impact occurring on the opposite side of the globe. They constructed stone boxes to safeguard their possessions amid chaos, which the Egyptians later found beneficial.