Ancient Astronomy: An Encyclopedia of Cosmologies and Myth

The author Graham Hancock has gone further, arguing that the entire layout of temples at Angkor had another purpose. It formed a gigantic model on the ground of the constellation Draco, just as (he and others have supposed) the Pyramids of Giza in Egypt modeled Orion’s Belt. Although this may sound like a simple extension of the idea of human constructions modeling the cosmos, it is ill conceived at a number of levels. For one thing, the idea of producing literal “maps” of the stars in the sky, as opposed to symbolic models of the gods in heaven, has no known place in Hindu beliefs and practice. In other words, this is an idea totally divorced from the social context in which it is supposed to have operated. Second, the construction of successive temples would have needed to have conformed to a very specific grand plan conceived before any of the building started and strictly adhered to by one ruler after another. Third, in order to make the orientation fit the appearance of the constellation in the sky, one has to assume that the plan was conceived around the year 10,500 B.C.E. Though it is not beyond the bounds of possibility that sacred sites might have been recognized for one reason and then retained their sacredness, it is sheer fantasy to suggest that a fixed plan could have been perpetuated for more than 11,000 years. Likewise, the idea of a “lost golden age” at such an early date flies in the face of well-established archaeological evidence from all over the world.

But how, then, does one explain the apparent fit of the temple positions with the pattern of stars in Draco? The answer is that apparently impressive matches like this can easily arise fortuitously, especially if one is prepared to be selective with the data. There are many temples at Angkor, many bright stars in the sky to choose from, and one can project the curved surface of the sky onto the flat surface of the ground in various ways. Certain temples, such as the Baphuon and Bayon, do not fit stars, and certain bright stars in the relevant part of Draco, such as Eltanin (г Dra) and Altais (д Dra), do not fit temples. Furthermore, the fit in the remainder of cases is not always impressive. It is possible to argue that there were inevitable errors in the process of identifying the correct location, multiplicities of purpose, and other difficulties in practice. But these possibilities (for which there is no direct evidence) provide no justification for selecting data arbitrarily in order to obtain more impressive fits. This is a flawed game that one plays at one’s peril.

The example of Angkor serves to show the severe dangers of seeking astronomical correlates of spatial patterns in archaeological data too keenly and taking interpretations far too far without heeding the constraint of cultural evidence. We do not need to go to such lengths to acknowledge that astronomical and cosmological symbolism was deeply engrained in this extraordinary group of monuments.

See also:

Cardinal Directions; Constellation Maps on the Ground; Methodology.

Pawnee Star Chart; Pyramids of Giza. Star Names.

References and further reading

Coe, Michael D. Angkor and the Khmer Civilization. London: Thames and Hudson, 2003. Hancock, Graham, and Santha Faiia. Heaven’s Mirror, 115–198. London: Penguin, 1998.

Higham, Charles. The Archaeology of Mainland Southeast Asia: from 10,000 BC to the Fall of Angkor, 321–355. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989.

Krupp, Edwin C. Skywatchers, Shamans and Kings, 303–310. New York: Wiley, 1997. Malville, J. McKim. “Angkor Wat: Time, Space and Kingship.” Archaeoastronomy: The Journal of Astronomy in Culture 17 (2003), 108–110. Stencel, Robert, Fred Gifford, and Eleanor Morуn. “Astronomy and Cosmology at Angkor Wat.” Science 193 (1976), 281–287.

Wheatley, Paul. The Pivot of the Four Quarters: A Preliminary Enquiry into the Origins and Character of the Ancient Chinese City, 257–267, 436–451. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1971.

Antas

Antas are a distinctive type of dolmen concentrated in the Alentejo region of central Portugal and the bordering provinces of western Spain. Anta in Portuguese simply means “dolmen,” but the word has been appropriated to signify a particular method of construction. A large, flattish stone was set in the ground on its side to act as the backstone. Two further slabs were then placed upright leaning against it, one on each side, then a further pair was added with each one leaning against one of the earlier pair, and so on, to form a chamber with a single entrance. Most commonly, seven stones were used in total. A flat capstone was finally placed horizontally on top. Antas vary considerably in size, the smallest chambers being under 2 meters (6 feet) wide and no more than 1.5 meters (5 feet) high, while the largest measure over 5 meters (16 feet) wide and 4 meters (13 feet) high. A magnificent example of the latter is the Anta Grande do Zambujeiro near Йvora.

A remarkable feature of the antas is their pattern of orientation. Michael Hoskin, a British historian of astronomy, surveyed 177 of them in the 1990s, using a compass and clinometer to determine their axial orientation (the direction along the axis of symmetry toward the entrance) and their astronomical potential in terms of the declination of the indicated horizon point. According to Hoskin, not a single orientation falls outside that part of the horizon on which the sun rises at some date in the year. Many different groups of later prehistoric monuments within western Europe show distinctive orientation signatures, but the implications of this group’s signature seem particularly clear: the antas faced sunrise on some day in the year, per-

The seven-stone anta at Mellizo, one of a number found near Valencia de Alcбntara in Extremadura, western Spain, close to the border with Portugal. (Courtesy of Clive Ruggles)

haps the day on which construction commenced.

If so, then we must add a qualification. The spread of orientations does not correspond to what one would expect if these dolmens were constructed at random times in the year. If that were the case, we would expect more orientations to fall toward the two ends of the solar range (where its rising position changes less from day to day, and so it spends more days) than in the middle. The actual anta orientations, on the other hand, fall mainly toward the middle of the range. This could be explained in one of two ways. The first possibility is that they were merely oriented roughly eastwards. In this case, the fact that the most extreme orientations happen to fall close to the edges of the solar range, that is, in the solstitial directions, would be seen as purely fortuitous. The other possibility is that tombs were constructed preferentially at certain times of the year, namely spring and/or autumn. Hoskin suggests the latter, arguing that in the spring and summer the needs of agriculture or animal herding would take precedence, but if work on dolmen construction commenced in the fall, it could reliably be completed during the ensuing winter.

See also:

Solstitial Directions. Prehistoric Tombs and Temples in Europe. Declination; Solstices.

References and further reading

Belmonte, Juan Antonio, and Michael Hoskin. Reflejo del Cosmos, 35–40. Madrid: Equipo Sirius, 2002. [In Spanish.]

Chapman, Robert. Emerging Complexity: The Later Prehistory of South-East Spain, Iberia and the West Mediterranean. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990.

Hoskin, Michael. Tombs, Temples and their Orientations, 85–100. Bognor Regis, UK: Ocarina Books, 2001.