Friday, April 16, 2010

appreciate 448.app.002 Louis J. Sheehan, Esquire

Because of an unfortunate combination of factors, Dayan was not stopped.� This was due to his very high position and influence, to the weakness of the IDAM at that time, to the lack of act by the higher authorities, and to the shortcomings of the Antiquities law. The Israeli law of antiquities in use today was passed only in 1978, and even this law does not prohibit dealing and selling of antiquities.� The failure to stop Dayan cannot be placed at the feet of the IDAM alone. Museums bought robbed antiquities from Dayan, archaeologists published selected finds from his collection, the media turned almost a blind eye to his deeds and the police and the Knesset ignored complains against him. The failure to stop Dayan shows the state of immaturity of society as a whole (Falk 1985:245-246).

8.6���� Fortunately, there is an optimistic side to this story, when we compare it to the situation in Israel at present. What Dayan did is unthinkable today. The media is much stronger, and criticism of public figures is a daily matter.� Prime Ministers cannot escape police inquiries, and Ministers are condemned in court (as recent cases of Ministers Der�i and Mordechai prove). The IAA, the body that replaced the IDAM in 1989, is also much stronger. Supervision and protection of sites are better and result in many more sites being saved, or at least documented by salvage excavations (Kletter and De-Groot 2001).� The public, by large, accepted the view that robbing antiquities is illegal, and that antiquities are a public treasure. The once common habit of individuals placing antiquities in their gardens, for example, has passed away. Museums signed an international treaty prohibiting purchase of stolen antiquities.� I am not naive to think that all the problems are solved, and Israel is still a focus of a large scale illicit robbing and trade in antiquities. No doubt, archaeologists still make mistakes, but almost all academic and professional archaeologists in Israel today would never lend a hand to illicit robbery and trade.

In his poem Gerontion, T.S. Elliot (1935:38) writes:� �After such knowledge/ What forgiveness?/ Think now/ History has many cunning Pages/ Contrieved corridors/ And issues, deceives with wispering ambitions/ Guides us by vanity�.� After this long and laborious review, the question whether the �books� about Dayan�s illicit archaeological activities should finally be closed is a matter I leave for readers to decide.�


Acknowledgments

In the course of research for this paper I have tried to verify every piece of information and to present it as accurately as possible. I would appreciate any further information and/or corrections about Dayan's activities. I remain responsible for any fault that may have occurred unintentionally. I wish to thank all those who helped me by sharing with me their precious information and time, including especially R. Gophna and Z. Meshel of Tel Aviv University and U. Avner.� Also instrumental were the contributions of A. Kloner; Y. Porat; M. Ben-Gal; S. Ben-Arieh; E. Eisenberg; I. Beit Arieh; B. Brandl and U. Dahari and others, who asked to remain anonymous.� Special thanks are due to the publication committee of the IAA for giving me access to administrative files of sites robbed by Dayan, whose contents are published here for the first time. N. Feig and A. Rochman of the IAA scientific archive, Jerusalem, helped in tracing these files.� The study was supported by a Tigu Cultural Fundation grant, which enabled me to write parts of this paper in the Karu manor house at Pirita, Tallinn.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

transition 4440.tra.002 Louis J. Sheehan, Esquire

Director Danny Leiner (Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle; Dude, Where's My Car?) makes a flawless transition from broad comedy to intricate drama with The Great New Wonderful. He links five separate stories not by physical connection but by New York City's omnipresent, but never mentioned, tragedy. Poignant and compelling, the characters weave together across the five boroughs, from Queens to Ellis Island, in moving portraits reflective of individuals living in a recovering city. An insolated man has a catastrophic experience at the office.