A Mediator (‘M’) can help resolve an Epistemological Crisis (‘EC’) – i.e. when Participants (‘P’s) cannot agree about what is ‘true’, by shifting the focus upon ‘facts, to a collaborative exploration of underlying interests and shared procedural standards.

Unlike a judge who adjudicates upon the P’s rights, M can use specific techniques to bridge the gap between the P’s ‘conflicting realities’, i.e. their ‘narratives’.

In ‘Whose Justice? Which Rationality?’ (1988), Alasdair MacIntyre argues that ‘rationality’ is rooted in specific traditions, challenging Mediators to abandon the quest for a neutral, ‘universal ground’ in favour of navigating conflicting, tradition-bound perspectives.

M can use an EC as a catalyst for change by shifting the ‘focus’ from ‘what is true’, to how each P ‘constructs their own subjective truth’.

Mediator Tools include:

1. ‘Challenging Naïve Realism’ – M can help each P to recognize that their ‘common sense’ is often a ‘fallible’ interpretation rather than a direct reflection of ‘reality’.

2. ‘Neutral Education’ – M may neutrally explain the existence of ‘cognitive biases’ or ‘System 1′ fast-thinking errors, which can correct biased thinking and encourage more deliberate, ‘System 2’ reasoning.

3. ‘Encouraging Epistemic Humility’ – By highlighting that truth is often perceived through subjective ‘webs of belief,’ M can encourage each P to view their own claims as being ‘fallible’ rather than as being universal ‘absolute truths’.

4. ‘Slowing down the thinking process’ – EC’s often trigger high-intensity emotions that lead to rapid, biased decision-making.

M can slow down the thinking process by:

(a) ‘Asking Open-Ended Questions’ – This forces the P’s to use ‘analytical reasoning’.

(b) ‘Strategic Breaks’ – Implementation of ‘cooling-off’ periods of at least 20 minutes, i.e. to help release a P from the powerful grasp of a stormy emotional state caused by ‘biased’ thinking.

These Mediator Tools will be discussed in my forthcoming book about the ‘Mediation of Cultural Heritage Disputes’, see www.carlislam.co.uk

Comments added:

An Interntional Cultural Heritage Dispute is an ‘Epistemological’ dispute, because it is not just a fight over who owns an object, but a fight over how we know what that artefact is and what it means.

At its core, ‘Epistemology’ is the study of knowledge, i.e. of how we determine what is ‘true’ or ‘valid.’

In Cultural Heritage Disputes, the Participants (‘P’s’) use different ways of knowing to claim authority: 

(i) ‘Scientific v. Traditional Knowledge’ – A museum might claim an artifact is a ‘specimen’ to be studied via carbon dating and DNA (Western empirical knowledge). A source community might claim it is a ‘living ancestor’ or a sacred being (ancestral/spiritual knowledge). Both sides are using different frameworks to define the object’s reality.

(ii) ‘Authority and Expertise’ – These disputes ask – Who has the right to produce knowledge about this item? 

When a colonial institution categorises an indigenous object, they are asserting that their academic classification is more ‘true’ than the community’s oral history.

(iii) ‘The Meaning of Tr’ – If a Greek statue is seen by one person as ‘universal art’ (Enlightenment value) and by another as a ‘national soul’ (cultural identity), they aren’t just disagreeing on its location—they are disagreeing on its fundamental nature. 

In short, it’s a conflict between different systems of truth.

Comments added:

For a mediator, Alasdair MacIntyre’s After Virtue offers a philosophical framework to move beyond seeing conflict as merely a clash of individual interests. His work suggests that mediation can be a space where ‘incommensurable'” moral languages are translated and where virtues are recovered through shared ‘practices’ and ‘narratives.’ 

Here is what a mediator can learn from the philosophy of After Virtue:

1. Understanding ‘Emotivism’ in Conflict

MacIntyre argues that modern moral discourse is in a state of ‘disorder’ where people use moral terms (like ‘justice’ or ‘rights’) as if they were objective, but actually use them only to express personal feelings or to manipulate others. 

• Mediators often encounter parties who seem to be speaking different languages even when using the same words. MacIntyre suggests this isn’t just a communication breakdown, but a result of emotivism—the belief that moral claims are nothing more than expressions of preference. Recognizing this helps a mediator understand why rational argument often fails to resolve deep-seated ethical disputes. 

2. Mediation as a ‘Practice’

MacIntyre defines a practice as a cooperative human activity where “internal goods” (excellences specific to that activity) are realized. 

• The Lesson: Mediation itself can be viewed as a practice. To be a ‘good’ mediator is not just about following a set of rules (external goods like money or status), but about cultivating virtues like justice, courage, and honesty that are internal to the process of conflict resolution. The mediator’s goal is to help parties engage in their own shared practices (like parenting or running a business) more virtuously. 

3. Narrative Unity and Life Stories

One of MacIntyre’s most famous concepts is that human life has a narrative unity. We are ‘storytelling animals’ who can only understand our actions within the context of our life’s story. 

• The Lesson: Conflict often arises when someone’s “narrative” is interrupted or challenged. A mediator can learn to look for the underlying story each party is living out. By helping parties see themselves as characters in an unfolding narrative—rather than just “sovereign choosers” making isolated decisions—a mediator can find more meaningful paths toward resolution. 

4. Navigating ‘Incommensurability’

MacIntyre identifies that modern arguments are often incommensurable, meaning there is no neutral third standard to judge between them (e.g., an argument based on ‘rights’ vs. one based on ‘utility’). 

• The Lesson: Instead of trying to find a ‘perfect’ rational compromise that satisfies both sides’ abstract principles, MacIntyre’s philosophy suggests focusing on local, communal traditions. A mediator can look for the shared ‘tradition’ or ‘community’ the parties belong to, which might provide the shared moral vocabulary they currently lack in the abstract. 

5. Moving Toward ‘Phronesis’ (Practical Wisdom)

MacIntyre champions the Aristotelian idea of phronesis, or practical wisdom—the ability to apply general virtues to specific, messy situations. 

• The Lesson: Mediation is the ultimate arena for phronesis. It requires the mediator to move away from rigid checklists and toward a “virtue ethic” where the right course of action is determined by the specific needs of the parties and the unique context of their conflict. 

The Enlightenment focus on ‘objective truth’ and the ‘scientific method’ is the wrong tool for a Mediator in any dispute, because: (i) a Mediator is not a ‘fact finder’; and (ii) Mediation is not a ‘Trial.’ The European Enlightenment largely operated on the assumption of a single objective reality that exists independently of human observation. This belief was deeply rooted in the era’s commitment to reason, empiricism, and a mechanistic worldview ‘Post-structuralism’ argues that ‘truth’ is constructed through ‘language’ and ‘power’. In ‘post-structuralism’, ‘truth’ is not a fixed thing waiting to be discovered. It is something that is produced. Words do not just reflect reality. Instead, the way we label and categorise things actually creates our understanding of them. Institutions, including Law, use language to decide what counts as ‘common sense’ or ‘objective truth.’ Therefore, whoever controls the ‘narrative’ controls what society accepts as being ‘true’. It basically moves the ‘goalposts’ from asking – ‘Is this true?’ to asking – ‘Who does this truth benefit’ and ‘how was it built?’ So, if a Mediator treats one participant’s [‘P’s’] story as being ‘fact’; and the other P’s [‘P.2’] as being ‘wrong,’ then they lose neutrality and will alienate P.2. Furthermore, using the ‘scientific method’ or ‘rationality’ as the only valid tool often privileges the person who is most articulate or ‘logical’ by Western standards. This can silence emotional, cultural, or intuitive ways of communicating that are just as vital to resolution of an international Cultural Heritage Dispute. ‘Post-Modernists’ see the claim of ‘rationality’ as a ‘power play’. When a Mediator says – ‘Let’s be rational,’ they are often unconsciously imposing their own set of assumptions on the P’s, rather than allowing them to define their own needs. In a scientific framework, you diagnose and ‘fix’ a problem. In Mediation, the goal is often ‘transformation’. Therefore, focusing on evidence prevents the P’s from exploring the underlying dynamics and values which actually drive the dispute. While rationality can helps build a bridge, using ‘absolutism’ as a tool for reasoning usually just builds a wall. A ‘bridge’, it is about clarity, common ground, and solving problems together. But when ‘absolutism’ is used as a tool for reasoning, it often ignores the ‘irrational’ parts of being human, i.e. emotion, intuition, and nuance, which enable a connection to be made. In other words, by operating on the premise that universal, inflexible rules apply in all situations, ‘absolutism’ ignores crucial, often ‘irrational’ elements such as emotion, intuition, and contextual nuance. That is because P’s do not usually feel heard by a ‘spreadsheet’; they feel heard by a ‘person’.

Comments added:

• ‘The Mechanistic Worldview in the Enlightenment’ – Figures like Isaac Newton led the charge here, viewing the universe as a giant clock. If it’s a machine, it has fixed rules that don’t care whether a human is looking at them or not.
• ‘Empiricism in the Enlightenment’ – Thinkers like John Locke and Francis Bacon argued that we learn through our senses. The ‘scientific method’ became the tool to filter out human bias and get to that ‘single objective reality.’
• ‘Universalism  in the Enlightenment’ – Because they believed truth was objective, they also believed it was universal, i.e. the same laws of physics or logic should apply to everyone, everywhere, at all times. 
• Modern critiques (like ‘Postmodernism’ or ‘Quantum Mechanics’) often challenge this by suggesting the observer does affect the reality, but for the Enlightenment, the goal was definitely to find the ‘view from nowhere.’
• Ai – ‘Post-structuralism is an intellectual movement that emerged in France during the 1960s as a critique of structuralism. It challenges the idea that language, culture, and social systems have fixed, stable, or universal meanings. Instead of searching for a single “truth” or a deep underlying structure, post-structuralists argue that meaning is fluid, context-dependent, and always subject to change. 
• Core Concepts:
  • Instability of Meaning: Post-structuralists believe there is no direct link between a word (signifier) and its meaning (signified). Meaning is created through a “play” of differences between words, making it impossible to pin down one final, absolute definition.
  • Critique of Binary Oppositions: The movement interrogates common “opposites” in Western thought (e.g., male/female, nature/culture, speech/writing). It argues these are not natural but are hierarchical constructions where one side is unfairly valued over the other.
  • The Death of the Author: Proposed by Roland Barthes, this idea suggests that an author’s intention is not the “correct” way to read a text. Instead, the reader becomes the primary source of meaning, bringing their own context and perspective to every interpretation.
  • Power and Knowledge: Closely associated with Michel Foucault, post-structuralism explores how “truth” is often a product of power relations. It examines how certain discourses (ways of talking and thinking) gain authority and define what is considered “normal” or “true” in society. 
• Key Figures
  • Jacques Derrida: Famous for developing deconstruction, a method for taking apart texts to reveal their internal contradictions and hidden assumptions.
  • Michel Foucault: Focused on the history of systems of thought (like medicine and prisons) and how they exercise power through the production of knowledge.
  • Roland Barthes: Originally a structuralist, he later moved toward post-structuralism by emphasizing the plurality of meanings in texts.
  • Judith Butler: Applied post-structuralist ideas to gender, arguing that gender is a “performance” rather than an inherent essence.
  • Julia Kristeva: Explored how language is disrupted by pre-linguistic drives and social exclusions. 
• Structuralism vs. Post-Structuralism

• While often used interchangeably with Postmodernism, post-structuralism is more specifically a philosophical and linguistic methodology, whereas postmodernism is a broader cultural and historical era.’ 

• In ‘Post-Structuralism’, truth isn’t an objective ‘out there’ reality. Instead, it’s seen as a byproduct of discourse. Thinkers like Michel Foucault argued that those in power use language to define what is considered ‘true’ or ‘normal, effectively creating truth to maintain social structures. Because language is fluid and power shifts, truth is always unstable and evolving rather than fixed. 

‘Ethical Intuitism’ is a philosophical view that basic moral truths are self-evident and accessible by immediate ‘intuition’ rather than complex reasoning.

In ‘The Right and the Good’ (1930), the Scottish Philosopher W.D. Ross, argued that ‘moral principles’ are ‘self-evident truths’ that we come to know through ‘intuition’, rather than through ‘calculation’ or ’emotion’.

The twin pillars of his theory of ‘Ethical Intuitism’ (‘EI’) are:

(i) ‘Prima Facie Duties’ – We have several distinct moral obligations, e.g. keeping promises, gratitude, and justice, that are binding ‘at first sight.’

(ii) ‘Pluralism’ – Unlike ‘Utilitarianism’, which focuses only on pleasure, or ‘Kantianism’, which focuses on an single universal law, Ross believed there is no ‘absolute’ single master principle.

When duties conflict, we must therefore use our ‘practical judgement’ to decide which prevails in a specific situation.

By integrating these concepts, Mediators can move beyond rigid rule-following toward a more ‘responsive’ practice.

EI allows Mediators to make ‘immediate judgments’.

This is crucial when navigating ambiguous situations in which standard procedures or ethical codes may conflict, or are inadequate.

Rather than applying ‘general principles’, EI focuses on the unique, specific needs of the participants at a ‘particular moment’.

This ‘relational intuition’ helps Mediators safeguard ‘fairness’ and ‘autonomy’ more authentically than abstract rules can.

Mediators can use their intuitive ‘moral perception’ to detect when an agreement feels more like ‘resignation’ than genuine ‘consent’.

This helps them decide when to probe deeper for informed consent without overstepping their neutral role.

What often feels like a ‘gut feeling’ is actually a highly developed capacity to synthesise years of theory and experience into instant, skilful interventions.

EI provides the ‘philosophical framework’ to value this ‘expert intuition’ as a legitimate form of moral knowledge.

In complex interpersonal dynamics, EI serves as a guide for delicate moves, e.g. in facilitating constructive dialogue or in determining how to deliver evaluative messages without alienating the participants.

Using EI to shift the focus from ‘Mediating the Problem’ to ‘Mediating the Moment,’ allows for more creative and innovative settlement options.

Trust is built when participants feel that the Mediator is truly ‘attuned’ to their circumstances and needs.

EI encourages Mediators to be ‘totally present,’ which can create a safe space for breakthrough resolutions.

EI also helps Mediators quickly identify subtle deceptions or manipulative negotiation tactics e.g. ‘white lies’/ ‘fake role play’, which might otherwise disrupt the process.

This is a Mediator Tool I will discuss in the context of ‘Ethics’ in my forthcoming book – the ‘Mediation of Cultural Heritage Disputes.’
‘ is a philosophical view that basic moral truths are self-evident and accessible by immediate ‘intuition’ rather than complex reasoning.

In ‘The Right and the Good’ (1930), the Scottish Philosopher W.D. Ross, argued that ‘moral principles’ are ‘self-evident truths’ that we come to know through ‘intuition’, rather than through ‘calculation’ or ’emotion’.

The twin pillars of his theory of ‘Ethical Intuitionism’ (‘EI’) are:

(i) ‘Prima Facie Duties’ – We have several distinct moral obligations, e.g. keeping promises, gratitude, and justice, that are binding ‘at first sight.’

(ii) ‘Pluralism’ – Unlike ‘Utilitarianism’, which focuses only on pleasure, or ‘Kantianism’, which focuses on an single universal law, Ross believed there is no ‘absolute’ single master principle.

When duties conflict, we must therefore use our ‘practical judgement’ to decide which prevails in a specific situation.

By integrating these concepts, Mediators can move beyond rigid rule-following toward a more ‘responsive’ practice.

EI allows Mediators to make ‘immediate judgments’.

This is crucial when navigating ambiguous situations in which standard procedures or ethical codes may conflict, or are inadequate.

Rather than applying ‘general principles’, EI focuses on the unique, specific needs of the participants at a ‘particular moment’.

This ‘relational intuition’ helps Mediators safeguard ‘fairness’ and ‘autonomy’ more authentically than abstract rules can.

Mediators can use their intuitive ‘moral perception’ to detect when an agreement feels more like ‘resignation’ than genuine ‘consent’.

This helps them decide when to probe deeper for informed consent without overstepping their neutral role.

What often feels like a ‘gut feeling’ is actually a highly developed capacity to synthesise years of theory and experience into instant, skilful interventions.

EI provides the ‘philosophical framework’ to value this ‘expert intuition’ as a legitimate form of moral knowledge.

In complex interpersonal dynamics, EI serves as a guide for delicate moves, e.g. in facilitating constructive dialogue or in determining how to deliver evaluative messages without alienating the participants.

Using EI to shift the focus from ‘Mediating the Problem’ to ‘Mediating the Moment,’ allows for more creative and innovative settlement options.

Trust is built when participants feel that the Mediator is truly ‘attuned’ to their circumstances and needs.

EI encourages Mediators to be ‘totally present,’ which can create a safe space for breakthrough resolutions.

EI also helps Mediators quickly identify subtle deceptions or manipulative negotiation tactics e.g. ‘white lies’/ ‘fake role play’, which might otherwise disrupt the process.

This is a Mediator Tool I will discuss in the context of ‘Ethics’ in my forthcoming book – the ‘Mediation of Cultural Heritage Disputes.’

See www.carlislam.co.uk.

• ‘The Sumerian Tablet That Describes a Place Inside the Earth — And the Entrance Location It Gives’: The Sumerian Tablet That Describes a Place Inside the Earth — And the Entrance Location It Gives
• ‘The Sun Stone (The Calendar Stone)’: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zn03u3-U1fk

See – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8vpCrT0uYMk

See – Could This Hidden Megalithic Site in Mexico Point to a Globally Connected Ancient Civilization? – YouTube

‘In this on-site investigation, I travel to the hidden megalithic site of Guirun near Mitla, Oaxaca, Mexico to explore whether its strange stone features could point to a globally connected ancient civilization. From unusual nubs and bar-like protrusions to heavy damage on massive stones, this little-known site raises questions that are hard to ignore—especially when compared to places like Ollantaytambo in Peru. Guirun is one of the most overlooked megalithic sites I’ve ever seen. Almost nobody visits it, very few people talk about it, and yet it may preserve some of the clearest similarities I’ve found between Mexico and other ancient megalithic sites around the world. In this video, we hike far off the beaten path to reach the cruciform tomb of Guirun, examine the stonework up close, compare it to Peru, look at why I personally question the standard Zapotec attribution, and explore the broader mystery surrounding Mitla, underground chambers, and evidence of massive stone quarrying in the region. We also look at:

• the crude lower tomb compared to the more advanced megalithic construction above
• the strange bar-like protrusions and nubs found on the stones
• the extreme damage on the largest blocks
• similarities to Ollantaytambo and other ancient sites
• the mystery of whether the site was re-used or repurposed by later cultures
• reports of a gigantic cut stone near Mitla that may have weighed close to 300 tons.’ (Matthew David – Presenter).

See also – Uncharted Ruins: The Megalithic Ruins of Ancient Mexico – Part V

AI – ‘The primary relation between a trapezoidal shape and a pyramid in sacred geometry is that a trapezoid represents an incomplete or “truncated” pyramid, symbolizing a stage of transition, grounding, or a journey in progress rather than final spiritual attainment. 

Symbolic Connection

In sacred geometric systems, shapes are often viewed as “evolutions” of one another. 

• The Pyramid (Ascension): Represents the ultimate focus and “upward intention”. Its apex signifies the highest point of spiritual attainment or connection to the divine.
• The Trapezoid (The Path): Often found in archways or doorframes (like the Egyptian “pylon” gates), it serves as a gateway or threshold. Because it is a pyramid with its “capstone” or “head” removed, it represents:
  • The Material Foundation: The grounding required before one can reach the “point” of the pyramid.
  • Fractured or Earthbound Energy: Some traditions suggest that without the capstone, energy stretches outward rather than radiating upward, focusing on the “will” within the physical world.
  • Humanity’s Journey: While the pyramid is the destination (Enlightenment), the trapezoid is the body of the structure—the “ascent” or the work being done on the earthly plane. 

Architectural Synergy

In archways, the trapezoidal stones (specifically the keystone) are what provide the structural stability. This mirrors the sacred geometric idea that the “square” of the material world and the “triangle” of the divine must be bridged. The archway acts as a “portal” where the trapezoidal shape guides the eye (and spirit) toward an unseen apex, effectively making every arch a promise of the pyramid’s completion.’

AI – ‘In antiquity, the “intaglio-inlay” technique was primarily used in 

Urartu (located in the Armenian Highlands), Ancient Egypt, and the 

Hittite Empire.

While various ancient cultures used intaglio (carving into a surface) and inlaying as separate methods, research highlights specific historical contexts where these techniques were integrated: 

• Urartu

 (9th–6th century BC): This civilisation is noted for developing intaglio-inlay in a systematic manner, particularly for stone carvings integrated into architectural design.

• Ancient Egypt and Hittites: These contemporary civilisations also employed the technique in their art, though it was often less central to their architectural styles compared to Urartu.
• Parthian Empire: Evidence of this technique appears in high-status jewellery, such as a 1st-century gold diadem featuring a carnelian intaglio inlay.
• Roman Empire: Intaglio-inlays were frequently used in signet rings and other personal ornaments, often featuring engraved gemstones (like carnelian or glass) set into bronze, iron, or gold bands.
• Ancient Scythian/Sarmatian Regions: Archaeological finds from the Ust-Alma necropolis (Crimea) include bronze and iron finger-rings specifically described as having intaglio-inlays. …

While the specific term “intaglio-inlay” is rarely used in South American archaeology, the technique of inlaying materials into recessed (intaglio) surfaces was practiced in antiquity, most notably for dental modifications and metallurgical ornaments. 

Inlay Techniques in Antiquity

Pre-Columbian cultures in South America utilized inlaying to enhance the prestige and visual impact of their artifacts: 

• Dental Inlays: The Moche culture of northern Peru (c. 690–735 AD) practiced decorative dental inlaying, where holes were drilled into teeth to accommodate metal inlays made of electrum. This served as a permanent marker of elite status.
• Gemstone and Metal Inlays: In Ecuador, evidence of gold and occasional emerald inlays in teeth has been documented in the coastal provinces of Esmeraldas and Guayas.
• Metallurgical Inlays: Advanced metallurgical skills in the Andean region included joining different metals or applying gold sheet to base metals (plating) to create contrasting visual effects.
• Comparison to Other Regions: While South American artisans used inlaying, the term “intaglio” is more commonly associated with Ancient Roman and Mesopotamian traditions of engraving gemstones for seal rings. In Mesoamerica (modern-day Guatemala and Mexico), dental inlays of pyrite and hematite were also a widespread tradition starting as early as 500 BC.’

Comments added:

• At Ayanis the choice of stone was Anthracite, which is a high-grade, shiny, and black mineral (a dense form of coal) used specifically to inlay into basalt blocks, creating a stark, high-contrast, and durable inscription. The extreme brittleness of Anthracite makes it difficult to carve without fracturing. Success depended on finding ‘unweathered’ lumps—dense, high-quality pieces of anthracite that lacked natural internal fissures or impurities. Instead of using high-force chisels that would shatter the stone, ancient carvers used harder stones (like quartz) or sand as abrasives to gradually wear away material. Artisans utilised pointed stones, bones, or flint as scrapers to incise fine details and lines onto the surface without the shock of a hammer blow. Once the basic form was achieved, surfaces were rubbed with increasingly fine grits of sand or emery to reveal the stone’s characteristic jet-black lustre and high sheen.
• Coincidentally, an ‘intaglio-inlay’ technique using ‘anthracite’, specifically ‘cannel coal’, was used in pre-Columbian South America to create black lithic carvings. While ‘anthracite’ is often used loosely to describe these dark, lustrous stones, scientific analysis has identified the material as cannel coal, which is found extensively in regions like Colombia and Venezuela. Historically, these black carvings were often misidentified as lignite, jet, or asphalt. Recent scientific interrogation using reflectance microscopy and FTIR has confirmed they are primarily made of cannel coal, a high-rank coal known for its uniform texture and ability to take a high polish. In the context of pre-Columbian black lithics, these carvings were sometimes used for ceremonial objects and were traded extensively across the Caribbean and mainland South America. Cannel coal artefacts have been found in the Lesser Antilles (e.g. on St. Vincent).

AI – ‘Ayanis is approximately 2,700 years old. 

The site, originally known as Rusahinili Eiduru-kai, was an ancient fortress of the Urartu Kingdom. 

Construction and History

• Founder: It was built by King Rusa II (reigned c. 685–645 BCE), the son of Argishti II.
• Exact Date: Dendrochronology (tree-ring dating) and inscriptions at the site indicate construction began circa 673–672 BCE.
• Destruction: The fortress had a short lifespan of only about 20 to 25 years. It was destroyed by a major earthquake and fire around 653–650 BCE, after which it was abandoned by the Urartians.
• Later Occupation: Excavations show a second occupational level dating to the Medieval period (10th–11th centuries CE), when the fortress was partially reconstructed. 

Archaeological Significance

The site is famous for the Temple of Haldi, dedicated to the chief Urartian god of war. Recent excavations (as of late 2024 and early 2025) have uncovered remarkably well-preserved artifacts, including: 

• Bronze Battle Gear: Three 2,700-year-old bronze shields and a ceremonial bronze helmet.
• Stonework: Intricate alabaster carvings and the longest known Urartian temple inscription (88 lines).
• Human Remains: A 2,700-year-old skeleton of a person likely killed during the earthquake that destroyed the citadel.

Anthracite was used as a distinctive inlay material for the cuneiform temple inscription at Ayanis.

While the inscription itself is primarily carved into basalt blocks, its unique aesthetic was enhanced through an “intaglio-inlay” technique: 

• Intaglio Inscription: The cuneiform characters were first deeply engraved into the stone surface.
• Anthracite Inlays: These carved-out signs were then filled with anthracite (a hard, lustrous coal) to create a striking visual contrast between the dark script and the surrounding stone. 

Key Locations of Inscriptions at Ayanis

The use of anthracite at Ayanis is a rare archaeological example of this material being used for monumental script decoration in the Urartian kingdom.’

AI – ‘No. The width at the top and base of these archways is not the same. They are defined by a wider base and a narrower top, a structural choice known as a trapezoidal shape. 

While this form is most famously associated with Inca architecture in South America, it also appears in various contexts in Egypt and Mesopotamia—though its use and frequency differed across these regions.

Region-by-Region Breakdown

South America (Inca Empire)

The Inca are the most prolific users of the trapezoidal archway. 

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• Design: Every doorway, window, and wall niche at sites like Machu Picchu is built with inward-sloping sides.
• Purpose: The wider base provides exceptional seismic stability, allowing structures to withstand the frequent earthquakes of the Andes.
• Consistency: The angle of the sides is remarkably consistent, often measured at approximately 4.5 to 5 degrees. 

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Ancient Egypt

In Egypt, the trapezoidal shape was primarily used for monumental gateways (pylons) and specific functional openings. 

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• Design: Temple pylons are much wider at the base than the top, creating a stable, sloping facade.
• Ventilation: Roof openings were often trapezoidal or conical to create a pressure difference that accelerated airflow, cooling the interior.
• Comparison: Unlike the Inca, many Egyptian residential doors and windows remained strictly rectangular, though grander ceremonial entrances adopted the tapered look. 

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Mesopotamia

Mesopotamian architecture utilized the trapezoid mainly in the construction of Ziggurats and massive mud-brick walls. 

• Design: Walls were frequently built with a batter (a slope where the base is thicker/wider than the top) to support the immense weight of mud-brick tiers.
• Mathematics: Babylonian mathematicians were highly advanced in calculating the areas of trapezoids, often using them as models for land measurement and architectural planning.
• Entrance Style: While arches were later developed (like the Ishtar Gate), early doorways were often simple rectangles or tapered openings in heavy, inclined walls. 

Key Structural Benefit: In all three regions, the wider base and narrower top served to distribute weight more efficiently toward the ground, reducing the stress on the lintel (the top horizontal beam) and improving overall structural longevity.’