Firdan Fadlan Sidik, MA
Independent Journalist, Graduate of the Master’s Programme in Quds Studies, Social Sciences University of Ankara
On 15 September 2025, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, accompanied by the U.S. Secretary of State and the U.S. Ambassador, inaugurated the Pilgrimage Road in Jerusalem. Central to the ceremony was the invocation of the Siloam Inscription as supposed legal evidence reaffirming ancient Jewish ties to the city. It was declared the inscription as “proof” that Jerusalem was a Jewish city 4,000 years ago.
This event quickly went viral, with competing speeches by Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan and Netanyahu circulating widely on YouTube. In stark contrast, only two days earlier, on 13 September, Erdoğan had received from Patriarch Theophilos III of Jerusalem a copy of the historic Omar Covenant, connecting the deep-rooted spiritual and historic ties between the Holy Land and Türkiye (Ottoman). The juxtaposition of these events invites a pressing question: whose claim stands on stronger historical and intellectual ground?
Debunking Netanyahu’s Fabricated History
The Siloam Inscription was discovered in East Jerusalem in 1880, during the Ottoman era, and transferred to the Istanbul Archaeology Museum in 1882, where it remains to this day. Turkish historian Erhan Afyoncu has described it as the most important of three inscriptions related to Jewish history found in Türkiye. Over the years, Israel has repeatedly sought to reclaim the inscription, but without success. Erdoğan countered Netanyahu’s claim by reminding the world that Jerusalem had been under Ottoman rule for centuries and thus tied historically to Türkiye.
Israeli sources interpret the inscription as an ancient Hebrew text from the late First Temple period (8th century BCE). Their narrative—portrayed almost as legend and myth—claims that two groups of workers excavated from opposite ends of the tunnel and met in the middle, enabling water to flow into the Pool of Siloam. This stone asserted that the ancient site validate that the Jewish people have belonged in Jerusalem for 4,000 years, since the time God said to Abraham: this is yours, as U.S. Ambassador Mike Huckabee argued. Likewise, U.S. Secretary Rubio hailed the site as symbolising “an enduring cultural and historical bond” with Jerusalem.
Yet historians like İlber Ortaylı have cautioned that no artefact can serve as a basis for modern political sovereignty. Other scholars have criticized the past Israel archaeological excavation of Silwan for their role in legitimising land claims, displacing Palestinian residents, and constructing a selective narrative that foregrounds biblical continuity while marginalising other historical layers. Moreover, UNESCO and other heritage organisations have warned that such projects privilege a single narrative, erode the integrity of the Old City, and violate international heritage obligations.
The weakness of Israel’s argument is not only archaeological but also logical. The claim that possession of a 4,000-year-old artefact provides exclusive modern political rights falls into the fallacy of argumentum ad antiquitatem—the appeal to antiquity. Age alone is neither a moral nor a legal warrant for sovereignty. Other fallacies evident in Israel’s narrative include selective evidence (cherry-picking), false continuity (telos fallacy), and rhetorical erasure of other communities’ historical presence.
The Omar Covenant and the Future of Jerusalem
To assess these rival claims, it is worth revisiting the Abraham Accords, which proclaimed the aspiration of fostering coexistence among Muslims, Jews, Christians, and peoples of all faiths. Yet the construction of the Abrahamic Family House in Abu Dhabi—a mosque, church, and synagogue on one site—remains symbolic unless translated into lived practice. Tolerance must be enacted in daily life, not confined to declarations.
This is precisely why the presentation of the Omar Covenant to Erdoğan by Patriarch Theophilos III matters. The Patriarch emphasised the enduring legacy of the seventh-century covenant attributed to Caliph ʿOmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb, which guaranteed religious coexistence in Jerusalem. Far from being a mere symbolic gesture, the meeting between Patriarch and Erdoğan was a pointed reminder of the Ottoman city’s multi-religious heritage at a time when today’s Israel policies are increasingly exclusivist. The meeting also touched on Israel’s ongoing war on Gaza, where the humanitarian crisis continues to deepen.
This context cannot be divorced from recent atrocities. On 17 July 2025, Israeli shelling struck Gaza’s Catholic Church, killing three civilians and injuring ten, including parish priest Father Gabriel Romanelli. At the time, the church was sheltering more than 600 displaced Palestinians—both Christians and Muslims. Netanyahu dismissed the strike as a “stray round,” but his apology rang hollow. Gaza’s Christian population has already dwindled to around 1,000 since October 2023, with local church authorities denouncing repeated assaults on sanctuaries as violations of international law and human dignity.
The presentation of the Omar Covenant also recalls the “Status Quo” governing Jerusalem’s holy sites. Rooted in Ottoman decrees, especially Sultan Abdülmecid I’s 1852 firman and reinforced by the 1878 Treaty of Berlin, the arrangement preserved religious rights and barred unilateral changes. It was upheld during the British Mandate and continued formally after Israel’s 1967 occupation of East Jerusalem. Crucially, the Omar Covenant has been consistently referenced in Ottoman records as the authoritative document regulating disputes in Jerusalem, from the early through the late Ottoman period, and more precisely during the establishment of the Status Quo.
In recent decades, however, this religious prohibition has been increasingly undermined by nationalist and messianic strands of Zionism. The 1997 rabbinate declaration by the Yesha Council allowing Jewish ascent after certain ablutions, the activism of organisations such as the Temple Institute, and the growing number of Jewish visitors entering the courtyards have all eroded adherence to the traditional restriction. Political actors and ministers making public incursions into the site have further contributed to the weakening of the Status Quo. In contrast, many ultra-Orthodox and conservative rabbinic authorities continue to uphold the historic prohibition, rejecting entry under present conditions as inconsistent with Jewish law. Not to mention, uncoordinated archaeological excavations by the Israeli authorities—as this article discusses—constitute another factor contributing to the destabilisation of the Status Quo.
By contrast, the Omar Covenant historically functioned as a mechanism for regulating relations over Jerusalem’s sacred geography, preserving a framework of tolerance and preventing sectarian clashes for centuries before the codification of the Status Quo. Ottoman archival material includes dozens of references to the Covenant, underlining its recognised authority as a touchstone document in disputes over the city’s holy sites.
The historical weight of the Omar Covenant thus extends far beyond symbolism. It stands as a counterclaim to Netanyahu’s politicisation of archaeology, embodying a vision of coexistence rooted in centuries of practice. At a time of rising exclusivist rhetoric, recalling this covenant is not just an academic exercise—it is a pressing reminder of Jerusalem’s shared heritage and the necessity of preserving it for all faiths under the just ruler.
