Theoretically, such lapses are punishable by expulsion from the fraternity, although it is reasonable to suspect that the handful of cases that have been discovered over the years represent the tip of the iceberg.
Nor are Freemasons particularly secretive nowadays. Beyond the signs, grips and precise ceremonies, the organization is largely an open book. Anybody wishing to approach their local Grand Lodge to discuss becoming a Mason will find their number in the telephone directory. In America, where they have always done things rather differently, lodges have even run billboard campaigns to attempt to boost their membership.
So with global Freemasonry in decline and its social significance and power arguably at it lowest point in centuries, what makes Dan Brown think the Craft is a fitting setting for the latest convoluted and faintly preposterous adventures of Robert Langdon? To answer that question, let’s examine the two parallel histories of Freemasonry—the real one, and the fanciful version that has over the years fuelled the imaginative fantasies of so many conspiracy theorists and exploitative opportunists.
- 1 - THE REAL HISTORY OF FREEMASONRY
The casual observer may be perplexed that Dan Brown finds the need to play historical hopscotch and concoct an alternative provenance for the Freemasons, as the colourful and vibrant history of the much-maligned movement is fascinating in its own right. Over the years the Masons have found themselves the enemies of kings, popes, dictators and democrats alike—there are few periods in history when the organization has not aroused fear and suspicion. Having survived the Inquisition and Nazi persecution, it’s safe to say that Freemasonry is unlikely to regard an assault by a pulp fiction novelist, albeit a highly successful one, as its darkest hour.
The practical roots of Freemasonry lie in the stonemasons’ guilds formed by working masons from the twelfth century on. However, its philosophical base is grounded far deeper—in the construction of King Solomon’s Temple on the sacred land of Mount Moriah, Jerusalem, in the tenth century BC by King David of Israel.
In Masonic lore, numerous rituals and ceremonies are based on King Solomon’s Temple, and specifically on a particularly grisly murder that is said to have been committed there. It is worth examining the history and the fanciful fables that are attached to this biblical-era temple, as they have echoes in almost every branch and aspect of Freemasonry as it exists today.
The Building of King Solomon’s Temple
Mount Moriah is one of the most controversial religious flashpoints on the face of the Earth. Three millennia on from King David’s day, the locale—now known as Temple Mount—is vigorously claimed by both Judaism and Islam, and remains one of the largest stumbling blocks to a negotiated settlement between Israel and Palestine. When then-Israeli opposition leader Ariel Sharon visited the site, in September 2000, the hostile Arab response to his visit led to the uprising that became known as the al-Aqsa Intifada.
The site is cherished because the holy books of both faiths describe miraculous events happening there. The Bible identifies Mount Moriah as the place where God commanded Abraham to sacrifice his only son, Isaac. The Koran, for its part, claims that Mohammed climbed a golden ladder of light from this sacred rock to heaven, where Allah instructed him in the forms of worship and devotion to be followed by all Muslims.
Biblical legend has it that David conquered the people of Jebus in 1000 BC and established Jerusalem as Israel’s capital city. The King intended to build a vast temple on Mount Moriah, but was forbidden to do so by God because of the copious bloody wars he had waged while on Israel’s throne. David had also sent a loyal courtier, Uriah, to certain death in battle so that he could seduce his wife, Bathsheba. In 981 BC, she bore him a son—Solomon.
David remained fixated on building a temple on the mount, and before his death he collected vast resources to allow Solomon to perform the task—the Bible claims it to have been 100,000 talents (approx 3,000 tons) of gold and one million talents (300,000 tons) of silver. After his father’s demise, Solomon commenced the construction process. As 1 Kings 5:5 has it:
Behold, I purpose to build a house unto the name of the Lord my God, as the Lord spake unto David my father, saying, Thy son, whom I will set upon thy throne in thy room, he shall build a house unto my name.
Feeling Israel did not have enough architects and skilled workers to take on the building of the temple, Solomon asked for help from Hiram I, the Phoenician King of Tyre. Hiram obliged, sending leading members of the ancient collective of builders known as the Dionysian Artificers of Tyre (see page 79) as well as thousands of labourers and thousands of tons of Lebanese timber. He also dispatched a man who was to become central to the narrative of the Freemasons—Hiram Abiff, Tyre’s most gifted architect and mathematician.
Described in I Kings 7:14 as ‘a widow’s son…a worker in brass…filled with wisdom and understanding’, Hiram Abiff oversaw the entire temple project, alongside King Solomon himself and Hiram, King of Tyre. Work on the temple began in the fourth year of King Solomon’s reign, 956 BC, and lasted for seven years. The largely Phoenician workforce built the edifice in the prevailing Phoenician or Egyptian style, which meant that a small outer vestibule, flanked by two ornate bronze pillars named Jachin and Boaz, led into a larger middle chamber. This transition room was known as Hekal, or Holy Place.
The centrepiece of the temple was the Sanctum Sanctorum, or Holiest of Holies, a windowless chamber that it is said was lined throughout with gold and Lebanese cedar. This central room was intended to house the Ark of the Covenant—the stone tablets passed by God to Moses on the Mount—a jar of manna and the Rod of Aaron—the staff carried by Moses’ brother, which supposedly grew buds and bore fruit when Moses carried it into the Tabernacle (see Numbers 17:8). Only rabbis and holy men could enter these inner chambers of Solomon’s Temple—non-ordained Jews worshipped outside the building.
It is believed that King Solomon’s Temple was finished around 949-948 BC. Despite its striking design and glitteringly ornate interior, it was actually fairly small: 90 foot long by 30 foot wide and 45 foot tall. However, as this feat of ancient engineering was nearing completion, Masons believe that the genius architect overseeing the process, Hiram Abiff, was brutally slain.
The Hiramic Legend: The Murder of Hiram Abiff
It is—to say the least—a moot point whether a gifted early stonemason named Hiram Abiff was really killed at King Solomon’s Temple. The Christian scriptures that detail the building of the temple make no reference to this occurrence, and nor do Islamic texts covering this period. Despite this, the murder has become a centrepiece of Masonic faith, education and ritual.
Freemason literature claims that Hiram Abiff, as well as being the chief designer and architect of the temple, supervised the project’s prodigious workforce: beneath him, claims the Book of Kings, were 3,300 foremen and 150,000 masons and labourers. Solomon and the two Hirams are said to have divided these workers into three ranks, dependent on ability.
These levels were Entered Apprentice, Fellow of the Craft and Master Mason. The rates of pay increased as a worker improved his skills and was promoted, with a Master Mason being the most prestigious and best remunerated. Workers queuing to be paid by King Solomon’s clerks would identify their rank by giving the wages clerk the secret password and sign that identified each level of employment.
One of Hiram Abiff’s many duties was deciding which employees were ready to take on more onerous duties and be promoted to Fellow of the Craft or Master Mason. The chief
