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Egyptian language

Authentic Ancient Names and Words in the Book of Abraham and Related Kirtland Egyptian Papers

2005 FAIR Conference

Authentic Ancient Names and Words in the Book of Abraham

and Related Kirtland Egyptian Papers

John Tvedtnes 5 August 2005

John Tvedtnes is senior resident scholar at the BYU Institute for the Study and Preservation of Ancient Religious Texts. He earned a BA in anthropology, a graduate certificate in Middle East area studies, an MA in linguistics, and an MA in Hebrew at the University of Utah and did postgraduate work at the University of California (Berkeley) and the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. He taught for seventeen years at the University of Utah and the Salt Lake and Jerusalem centers of Brigham Young University. He has published nine books and more than 200 articles. While many of his writings have appeared in books, magazines, and journals for a Latter-day Saint audience, some of his works have been published by the University of Utah, the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, the Pontifical Biblical Institute, and the Journal of Near Eastern Studies. He is a convert to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and has served in numerous positions, including a full-time mission in France and Switzerland and stake and district missions in Utah and Israel.

[This was a graphics rich presentation. This transcript does not include slides from the presentation. They can be viewed in the video of this lecture on our Youtube site. Links provided at the end of the text.]

JOHN TVEDTNES: Over the last century a number of scholars have looked at names and other transliterated words in the Book of Abraham and in the Kirtland Egyptian Papers in an attempt to determine their authenticity. In some cases it can be demonstrated that the name is actually attested in Ancient Near Eastern documents. For unattested names it is sometimes possible to postulate an etymology based on known words in Egyptian and other ancient languages in use in the time of Abraham.

While I can claim credit for some of the work contained in my presentation today, it is appropriate to acknowledge that I’ve drawn upon research by various others such as Hugh Nibley, A. Richards Durham, Robert F. Smith, John Gee and John

M. Lundquist. Indeed one of the most thorough researchers of the Book of Abraham onomasticon is Robert F. Smith most of whose contribution is embodied in a series of unpublished manuscripts that he shared with me during the 1960s and ‘70s. I’ve mentioned some of his research in previous publications. I must

acknowledge however that I’ve added my own contributions and I’m the only one who can really be faulted for any mistakes here.

One of the primary sources of the names used in this study is of course the Book of Abraham as published in our Pearl of Great Price. These names have been carefully compared with the forms as found in the four extant handwritten manuscripts of the Book of Abraham, one of which you see on the left here, that’s held in the LDS Church Archives.

Joseph Smith’s explanation to the Facsimiles, published with the Book of Abraham though not part of the text itself, are another source of names. The third source comprises various handwritten documents prepared in Joseph Smith’s day and known collectively as the Kirtland Egyptian Papers. There are ten such documents and some of them are multi-page, this includes the notebook entitled Grammar and Alphabet of the Egyptian Language; a smaller handmade notebook called Valuable Discovery of Hidden Records; and another notebook entitled

F.G.W. and William standing evidently for Frederick G. Williams and probably William Lyon Phelps; along with other loose sheets a few of which comprise Egyptian texts copied by one or more of the scribes but with no English commentary at all. This is something that John Gee loves because he can work with those. Some of the latter include material copied from papyri that are not currently extant. Because they provide no information on names they are excluded from this present study.

Some of the names that interest us relate to ancient Egypt itself and to people who were among the earliest rulers thereof.

Abraham 1:23 and 25 notes that the founder of Egypt was the daughter of Noah’s son Ham named Egyptus. It has long been noted that in the earliest handwritten manuscripts the name is written Zeptah which you can see here. As A. Richards Durham noted some years ago both forms derive from one of the Egyptian names for the capital city of Lower Egypt Memphis which was ît-kA-Ptaú ‘ (if you don’t put in the right vowels) meaning the “Residence of the spirit of Ptaú”—the name appears even in that form on a Ugaritic tablet.

When the Greeks came to Egypt in the time of Alexander the Great, they had to modify the name in order to pronounce it in their own language. Greek had no ‘h’ sound so they simply dropped the consonant at the beginning and the end of the name itself.

The ‘t’ had already been dropped from the end of the word for ‘residence’ which is how it is in Coptic—it’s ‘a’—often the feminine ending dropped off of those in later forms of the Egyptian language. Instead of unvoiced ‘k’ the Greeks used its

voiced equivalent the ‘g’ sound. Finally they added the masculine singular suffix ‘os’, this gave them the form Aigyptos which became Aegyptus in Latin. And this is the origin of course of the name Egyptus as used in the printed versions of the Book of Abraham and the English form of the name of the country itself Egypt.

Ptaú whose name appears as the last element in the Egyptian form was the creator god in the story told of the ancient city of Memphis. Zeptah, the form used originally by Joseph Smith, likely means “Son or daughter of Ptaú.” The Egyptian has it as, here I’ve written it as the masculine on the upper left hand side there you can see, (inaudible) which would be the feminine. The feminine however later on dropped the ‘t’ so it’s easier to pronounce it and they both look alike or both sound alike in later forms of Egyptian. But the Hebrew- if it has a Hebrew meaning it would’ve been understood as Zeh Ptaú “This is Ptaú”—in other words this is the god Ptaú or the discoverer of Egypt.

Indeed earlier Egyptologists translated the ‘s’ as a ‘z’ and so if we pronounce this as the Egyptian, ‘zeh’ instead of ‘sa’ that would fit with the way they used to transliterate it.

As in most Hebrew words, the feminine suffix was often dropped in later forms of Egyptian. In the Egyptian text known as Astarte and the Sea the goddess Astarte, corresponding to the Egyptian goddess Isis or Isis(?), is actually called (inaudible) in other words “the daughter of Ptaú” so she has that very title.

The Semitic verb Ptah means to open, to discover. The Egyptians held that the Temple at Memphis was constructed on the first piece of land rising from the floodwaters and the same tradition was attached to various other spots where temples were built along the Nile.

An Armenian text attributed to the 4th century A.D. Christian historian Eusebius declares that ‘Egypt is called Mizraim(?) by the Hebrews’—which is close, in Hebrew it’s Mitzraim but he came close considering that it was Greek translated into Armenian—‘and Mizraim lived not long after the flood for after the flood, Ham son of Noah begat Egyptus or Mizraim who was the first to set out to establish himself in Egypt at the time when the tribes began to disperse this way and that.’ Here we have Egyptus then being a man.

A similar account is found in Abraham 1:23-24 except that here it’s a woman:

      1. The land of Egypt being first discovered by a woman, who was the daughter of Ham, and the daughter of Egyptus, which in the Chaldean signifies Egypt, which signifies that which is forbidden;
      2. When this woman discovered the land it was under water, who afterward settled her sons in it; and thus, from Ham, sprang that race.

So, I should make one point here before we move on though because somebody is probably going to look at this and then say, ‘Well why is it that you said then- why does the Book of Abraham say that it means ‘forbidden’ in Chaldean? Well my guess is that it’s analogous to what happens in Russia. Does anybody know how the word ‘Mormon’ is used in Russia? They heard about the Mormons in the United States and these were bad people because all the books they ever had on it were anti-Mormon. We start sending missionaries to Russia, the Soviet Union almost- after 1989. These missionaries come in and they said, ‘We’re Mormons’ and people say, ‘Oh you’re those awful people.’ But other people in Russia have been called Mormons for some time, it’s a group of evil-doers they say and so they’ve used the term ‘Mormon’ meaning evil-doers instead of more good if some of you like that better explanation.

Hugh Nibley has dealt with the Egyptian traditions about the goddess who discovered Egypt rising out of the floodwaters. In one text she is called ‘the daughter of Ptaú’ which, as noted above, is one possible meaning of the name ‘Zeptah’. In some accounts she is Isis, sister-wife to Osiris—both sister and wife—and mother of Horus the first king of Egypt making one wonder if Egyptus married her own brother, Mizraim who is the son of Ham mentioned in the Bible and after whom Egypt takes its name in Hebrew.

Nibley draws attention to the account of Herakleides, which was unavailable to Joseph Smith, who wrote “It was first a woman named Aegyptia who established her son and introduced weaving. Because of her, the Egyptians set up an image of Athena,” the Greek goddess, “as Ephorus says in his work on Europa.”1

About 440 B.C. the Greek historian Herodotus wrote that the Egyptian priests “told me that the first man who ruled over Egypt was Min, and that in his time all Egypt, except the Thebaic canton,” that’s Thebes, “was a marsh, none of the land below Lake Moeris then showing itself above the surface of the water.”2

In his Chronicle, the 6th century A.D. Christian historian John Malalas wrote that, “the first king of Egypt belonged to the tribe of Ham, Noah’s son, he was pharaoh who was called Neko.” While Malalas evidently confused the pharaoh of Abraham’s time with the pharaoh Neko of the 6th century B.C.—the time of King Josiah—it is interesting that Abraham 1:20-21 notes that “Pharaoh signifies king by royal blood. Now this king of Egypt was a descendant from the loins of Ham, and was a partaker of the blood of the Canaanites by birth.”

One of the Kirtland Egyptian Papsers notes that Abraham “was forewarned of God to go down into Ahmehstrah, or Egypt, and preach the gospel unto the Ahmehstrahans.” The word may be related to the Hebrew Mizraim—it sounds a

bit like it. The name for Egypt and for one of Ham’s sons who is the eponymous ancestor of the Egyptians in Genesis 10 and 1 Chronicles 1.

The Hebrew is actually a dual form, as reflected by the suffix ‘aim’—so Mizraim really means two Egypts if you will due to the fact that ancient Egypt was considered to be comprised of two parts—Upper and Lower Egypt—that were subsequently united.

Eusebius declared that Mizraim was indeed the founder of the Egyptian race and from him the first Egyptian dynasty must be held to spring.

As noted earlier, Eusebius also identified Egyptus with Mizraim. If, as the Book of Abraham says, Egyptus was a daughter of Ham rather than a son, it is possible that she married her brother just as the Egyptian traditions have. Isis marries her brother Osiris; and from them would derive the Hebrew name of Egypt. This would explain the Egyptian myths about Osiris the god who actually ruled Egypt anciently marrying his sister and that was followed by some of the pharaohs.

In fact some of the pharaohs in order to make sure that they were marrying into the royal line married not only their sisters but sometimes their daughters and I know of at least one case where one married his mother. It’s really a strange idea from our point of view but it was perfectly normal in their days, they wanted to preserve this particular line.

The term ‘Rahleenos’ is found in Abraham 1:14 and indicates that it means ‘hieroglyphics’ referring to one of the writing systems used in ancient Egypt. The word ‘hierogluphikos’ is Greek and means sacred or priestly writing. Perhaps it equates to Egyptian ‘Ra-nes’ which would mean the “tongue/language or speech of Ra”—Ra being the Egyptian sun god and head of the pantheon in the city of On or Heliopolis ‘Sun city’ (not Arizona—Egypt). (Laughter)

(I should apologize for those who know how Egyptian is written but the fonts I use will not let me stack these properly so you have to read it all the way across the line.)

The Egyptian ‘n’ often corresponds to the Semitic ‘l’. The same is true also of the ‘r’; the Egyptian ‘r’ is sometimes used for the Semitic ‘l’ when it transliterates Semitic words, Hebrew, Canaanite, whatever. And, in fact, sometimes the two are used together to denote an ‘l’.

So when we look at ‘nes’ here from the Egyptian it could easily be ‘las’ ‘ras’ any of those, lāšōn (Hebrew), lisān (Arabic), I believe to be cognate with the Egyptian word. On the surface this Egyptian explanation does seem to fail because

Abraham 1:14 says that the system of Egyptian characters called ‘figures’ in that passage “is called by the Chaldeans Rahleenos, which signifies hieroglyphics.” So according to the Book of Abraham these are actually Chaldean, this is a Chaldean name not the Egyptian name but one of the manuscripts of the Book of Abraham says it was called that by the Egyptians and then the word Egyptian is crossed out and Chaldean is written above it. So it seems to me that originally it was perhaps intended to denote Egyptian.

A number of Latter-day Saint scholars have taken in hand to provide ancient etymologies for the names of the Egyptian gods inscribed in the Book of Abraham. The earliest was Hugh Nibley followed—actually there were some who did it before him—followed in the late 1960s and early 1970s by Robert F. Smith, whose work though mostly unpublished has, in my opinion, stood the test of time.

John Gee and others have more recently reexamined the names and come to similar conclusions. John M. Lundquist also noted that each of the gods or idols mentioned in Abraham 1:17 appears in the compilation of some 3,800 Mesopotamian deities published in 1950 by Anton Deimel.3 Many of these names are Akkadian a Semitic language related to Hebrew and more distantly to Egyptian.

Critics often dismiss the four gods depicted below the lion couch in Facsimile 1 of the Book of Abraham as mere canopic jars in which the viscera of a diseased person were placed during the mummification process. They put the heart and the viscera in there; the only part of the body they threw away and did not mummify was the brain. They didn’t know that’s what made you think, in fact they extracted the brain—they had a little hooked instrument they put up through the nostril and they’d pull the brain out piece by piece. The procedure is very similar to abortion by the way. Scary huh? Well at least if you’re dead you don’t feel it.

While it’s true that these were canopic jars and that the various body parts were placed in them, these do depict the four gods known as the sons of Horus though one text calls them the sons of Osiris and indeed in Facsimile 2, Fig. 6, which I have here in an insert, Joseph Smith describes them as representing “this earth in its four quarters.” Some of the sons of Horus were in fact associated with the cardinal directions and we’ll see this in our description of each of them.

There was a kind of a strange thing going on in 1912 with the Reverend Spalding who asked several Egyptologists to comment on this and Samuel A.B. Mercer came back and he said, ‘Oh he doesn’t know what he’s talking about this Joseph Smith. These aren’t the four quarters of the earth; these are the four cardinal directions not quarters. It’s a real difference.’ However another Egyptologist

Budge whom some of you have heard of also he used- he translated it as quarters- “four quarters” instead of four cardinal directions.

Well let’s look at each of them. The god whose name is rendered ‘Elkenah’ in the published versions of Abraham 1:6-7, 13, 17, 20 and 29 appears with variant spellings in the Kirtland Egyptian Papers. In two of the manuscripts it is always spelled ‘Elkkene’. This is also the spelling in another of the manuscripts where it was changed later to ‘Elkenah’, that was mss 4 just prior to publication it was changed from ‘Elkkene’ to ‘Elkenah’ and that was the version that was published.

This to me suggests that ‘Elkkene’ more closely approximates the way Joseph Smith intended to transliterate it. Robert F. Smith noted that the form ‘Elkkene’ seems to correspond with the form of El-kuni-ir§a “El, the maker of the of the earth” which is found in the Hittite text. It’s actually a Canaanite title of the God El; it’s in the text about Asherah. It’s also known in the Phoenician title ‘l qen `r§ “El, creator of the earth” together with the name baalshemayon(sp?) which means “the lord of heaven”, so it parallels that in an eighth century manuscript from the Phoenician king Azzitawatah. The title clearly corresponds to the Hebrew El- Elyon konei shamayim va-aretz which msseans “El the most high God, creator of heaven and earth.” It’s translated “Possessor” in the King James Version, that’s from Genesis 14:19, 22; and so, the title has been around for a long time.

The Hebrew name Elkanah is found in the Bible (1 Samuel 1:1), it’s a hypocoristic form of the same name that we just mentioned dropping off the ending element of it, the God El, head of the Canaanite pantheon, was identified by the Egyptians with the hawk-headed sun god Ra in their myth of Ra and Isis where he is also called Iry pt tA “Maker of heaven and earth” the same title. The depiction labeled the idolatrous god of Elkenah in Abraham Facsimile 1, Fig. 5, is the Egyptian jackal-headed god who is associated with the East where the sun rises. Indeed the verb denoting the rising of the sun derives from this same root.

John Lundquist has suggested another potential source of the name Elkenah, the Akkadian dIl-gi-na. The d part is just what we call a determinative, it derives from Sumerian and it refers to divine names. You don’t pronounce it though actually but it is written. So here we have the same kind of name that (inaudible) at the beginning is the same as El, it means god also and so his suggestion was that this was the origin of it, this Akkadian name.

Nibley noted the report from Bar-Hebraeus, a medieval Jewish scholar who became a Christian, that in the days of Abraham’s father, Terah, the Egyptians adopted Chaldeism and made an image in honor of Kenos(sp?). Kenos may very well be related here to Elkenah.

The god Libnah is mentioned in Abraham 1:6, 13 and 17. The god identified by this name in Abraham Facsimile 1, Fig. 6, is the falcon-headed Egyptian god who is identified with the West.

Another Egyptian god, the jackal-headed (inaudible), we usually call him Anubis in English. Anubis, who is the jackal god who is called ‘the lord of the west’ and also ‘lord of the white land’—probably “white” because this word lebānāh comes from a word meaning “white”. The jackal is a nocturnal prowler; he goes out by moonlight to find his prey and so is often associated with the moon. One of the Hebrew terms for moon, as we see here, is found in several Bible passages, three of them, it’s lbanah, the feminine form of laban, which you normally read as Laban, the brother of Rebekah in the Bible. The same term lebānāh, meaning “white, or moon”, is used in the medieval Hebrew story of Abraham to denote the moon that Abraham studied in his youth. In the Bible, Laban is one of Abraham’s great nephews while the form Luban from the same root is a place name in records found at Ebla near Abraham’s homeland. The Bible also mentions a Canaanite city named Libnah which is also mentioned on a list of cities conquered by the Egyptian King Thutmose III. So it’s well attested that we have here a moon god if you will.

Deriving from the same root is the name Lebannon, Lbanown in Hebrew, which means “white place”; probably so-called because of the snow that’s atop Mt.

Lebanon. In the Zohar, a medieval Jewish text citing the Song of Solomon in the Old Testament, says of Lebanon that it should be reworded Lbanah thou moon who receivest thy light from the sun. Julius Levy considered Lebanon to derive from the Canaanite moon-god Laban while John Lundquist drew attention, again, to an Akkadian god dLaban, same name—these gods didn’t change much from one country to the other when they spoke similar languages, languages that were related—(inaudible) noted the variant forms of the name of Lebanon: Lbanown in Hebrew, Libnah in Phoenician, Libnana in Assyrian and (inaudible) in Hittite.

The god called Mahmackrah, in the published version of the Book of Abraham, is depicted in Abraham facsimile 1, fig. 7. He’s the baboon-headed god who represented the North—an element perhaps found in his name because the word mútt means “north”. Is it possible that that’s what we have at the beginning of this name? It is possible. The name used in the Book of Abraham however may be related to a Hebrew word, the word mimkār which means “merchandise” since Egypt’s principal trading partners were to the north. Closer in pronunciation however is the Akkadian divine name dMa-mi-hi-rat which is in Deimel’s list again as quoted by Lundquist. A. Richards Durham has actually proposed two possible etymologies that I had not included in this and since I’m saying that now maybe I should add that there are other possibilities that are not included in

today’s presentation, I just didn’t have enough time to get them all together. I expect I’ll do that sometime in the near future.

The god called Korash in the Book of Abraham and depicted in Facsimile 1, Fig. 8, is a human-headed god who represents the South. It is possible that Korash in fact is from the Egyptian kA-rsy which would means “spirit of the south”. Nibley noted that the Egyptian goddess Hathor was worshipped in Saba. Today we call it Yemen, which in fact is a good Arabic-Hebrew name meaning south; and that she was worshipped by the people of Quraish. The Quraish tribe is the tribe that gave birth to the prophet Mohammed and in fact there is one tradition that the person who wanted to kill Abraham, the one who wanted him to be actually slain for not worshipping the pagan gods, was a fellow named Korash. John Lundquist draws attention to another possibility, the Akkadian divine name dKur-ra-su-ur-ur and John Gee has noted also that KArs (and I’m not sure if I spelled that one correctly because I don’t have it written down but I remember you mentioning it) that this is attested in New Kingdom Egypt.

Here’s one of my favorites, funny guy, funny name. The god Shagreel is mentioned only in Abraham 1:9 where he is said to be “the sun.” In this connection, one may perhaps compare the Egyptian hawk-headed god Sokar who is a form of the sun as depicted in fig. 4, facsimile 2, with the addition of the Semitic term El at the end—El meaning of course “God.” More likely, in my opinion, is Robert F. Smith’s identification with the Canaanite (inaudible) “the gates of El” “the gates of God”, a title of the Canaanite god (inaudible) who in the Ugaritic text is called in fact “gate of the sun.” An Akkadian seal impression has Shamash, the sun god, rising between two mountains on each side of which are hinged doors mounted by lions. The Egyptian Sokar is sometimes accompanied by a pair of lion guards and it’s (inaudible), we see them here, that’s the sun god rising between the mountains- between these two- actually they look more like, to me, they look more like cheetahs because they have spots but the face is more like a lion. I think they have a lion’s mane there. Anyway the name (inaudible) means “twin lions” or “twin gates.” The twin lions guarding city gates were known amongst other Ancient Near Eastern peoples including the Hittites who did a lot of that and these later made their way into Western Europe and even into the United States where today they flank the entrances of libraries, museums and other public buildings and of course in Salt Lake City, the human-headed lions that guard the entrance to the Masonic Temple.

We should also compare the title Shagreel with the name Sheariah which in fact means the “gates of Jehovah” ‘yah’ in this case where ‘yah’ is substituted for ‘El.’ Sheariah is in fact found in the Bible, in 1 Chronicles 8:38 and 9:44. So the Hebrew form of the plural, which is not in those two passages, it has the singular

there, would be Sheariel. The Semitic name for ‘gate’ is also known in Egypt by the way in later text because it was borrowed from Canaanite.

The names of celestial bodies are found in the third chapter of Abraham, in the explanation of Facsimile 2 and in the Egyptian Alphabet and Grammar and other Kirtland Egyptian Papers.

The star named Kolob, and it’s called a star, I know that there are some websites that say the Mormons are crazy they think God lives on a planet called Kolob. The passage never says it’s a planet and never says God lives there either; it says it’s closest to where he lives. Anyway the star named Kolob is so-called “because it is near unto me” (Abr. 3:3) or near “the residence” (Fac. 2, Fig. 1) or “throne of God” (Abr. 3:9). Facsimile 2, Fig. 1 describes it as “nearest to the celestial.” This explanation is attractive because it creates a wordplay in the Book of Abraham; a feature known from the underlying Hebrew of both the Old Testament and the Book of Mormon. The wordplay being between “near” and “Kolob” because in fact the word for Kolob can mean near; there are several possibilities to explain and I’m going to talk about those now.

Janne Sjodahl was the first to compare the name with the Arabic qalb “core, marrow, heart, intelligence”, however because ‘l’ and ‘r’ often interchange in Semitic languages, one should also note Arabic QRB “proximity, near, midst” which is cognate to Hebrew qārōb “near” or “close.” Robert F. Smith prefers the latter and notes that it appears in the sense of “near one” as a title of God in Psalm 119:151 where it parallels the word qedem which means the “primeval one” or the “ancient one” (that’s in verse 152). Smith notes that the cognate Ugaritic qurb often refers to the dwelling place of El, the chief God, in the Canaanite pantheon in the expression “midst of the source of the two deeps” where the word rendered “midst” is in fact this same word qurb meaning “near”.

Another possible Hebrew etymology is the Hebrew KLB “dog” originally pronounced kalb just as it is in Arabic. This is used to denote the star Regulus in Arabic while the Syriac, which is also kalb denotes the star Sirius, the brightest star in the heavens. There’s a wonderful article that Dan Peterson, and John Gee, and Matt Roper (I think), were the three who (if I left something off that you can fill it in later) but they wrote a really nice article on Kolob and its place in the sky and what it meant for Abraham.4

In Arabic, this term KLB “dog” also denotes the constellation of Canis Major which is Latin meaning “Great Dog”, we call it the Big Dipper but that’s not what is was called anciently, as the brightest star in the constellation of the Big Dipper, Sirius is called Alpha Canis Majoris which is “number one big dog” or top dog I guess. Another name for the star is Canicula, a Latin word for ‘Little Dog’.

Akkadian sources call Sirius (inaudible) the “dog of the sun”. In ancient Egypt the Nile began to rise at the helical rising of Sirius, that is when it came up just before the sun and bringing the annual torrent of Nile water laden with rich volcanic soil from the south and depositing it on the cultivated land.

I should mention by the way you notice how the one has a ‘q’ the other has a ‘k’? That’s very important, at least in Arabic, it’s not as important in Hebrew but I always try to get my Hebrew students to pronounce the two differently. In Israel they pronounce the two ‘k’ just that- it’s just like a regular ‘k’ in English. But in ancient times they were pronounced quite differently. One is pronounced way in the back of the throat, the other is pronounced farther up and in Arabic they make a big distinction and my reasoning with my students was, if you don’t make the distinction and you speak in Arabic and you want to tell a girl, “I love you with all of my heart” which is the word that’s coming up next, you don’t want to end up saying “I love you with all of my dog.” (Laughter) I think that struck a note with most of them.

So, this is the other one I want to have QLB which is “heart” in Arabic. There are some Egyptian equivalents to that, I didn’t put them up here. There’s a couple of cognates that are related directly to that. In the Sumerian text known as the Descent of Inanna, one of the more ancient texts from the Middle East, the goddess Inana goes down into the Underworld to free her husband Dumuzi who is the god who brings rain during the season of rain, and on the way back to heaven she stops at a place called Kulab which is designated as a tree of some sort. We don’t know why this happens there but there Dumuzi gets to sit on his throne and puts on his royal apparel which he has not been wearing while he’s been in prison.

The term Olea is used to denote the moon in Abraham 3:13. It resembles the Hebrew term yārēaú which is just one of two words meaning “moon” or “month.” Even in English month comes from the word moon by the way, as does Monday— Moon’s Day. The Egyptian word for moon is Iah which is cognate to the Semitic term. In Facsimile 2, Fig. 1, the moon’s name is given differently however, it’s called Floeese. This name is similar to the Kli-flos-is-es that we find in some of the Kirtland Egyptian Papers. Kli makes a lot of sense. Kli is a good Hebrew word, it means a vessel in the sense of a plate or a bowl or even a spoon or a tool, a tool of any kind, a hammer or whatever. The word looks like it is finishing in the name of the Greek goddess, or the Greek form I should say, of the Egyptian goddess Isis; and I have no clue what flos is supposed to mean unless any (inaudible) here could explain that to us. (Laughter) The second one as well, I don’t have a clue on that one but we’ve got some starts here, somebody research that one and give us a report next year.

Shinehah is an interesting one (Abr. 3:13) calls the sun Shinehah which seems to be related to the Hebrew word šānāh which means “year.” The year is defined by the annual circuit of the earth about the sun and to the ancients was determined by where the sun rose each day during the year. The Semitic verbal form means “to change,” that is to change seasons and other changes, or “to repeat” and is the source of the numeral two because you start over—once you finish a cycle you start over again so it’s the second cycle. The Egyptian cognate is the verb šni which is “to encircle, enclose or surround” and the noun from that is šnw which means “circuit or circumference”. From this also we get the name of the ring (inaudible) which is depicted with the little (I don’t think I did that one up there did I? No, I didn’t. Sorry you won’t see that one.) Hugh Nibley followed by Robert F. Smith and Kerry Shirts have suggested that the name Shinehah derives from the Egyptian term plus the Egyptian word ‘heh’ or ‘nhh’ meaning “eternity, or eternal” and so that would be then the “eternal circuit” or as Nibley put it “one eternal round” which book we hope to see soon.

Janne Sjodahl suggested that the name Olaha Shinehah mentioned in Doctrine and Covenants 117:8, from July 8, 1838, is related to the terms for “moon” Olea which we saw a moment ago and Shinehah for the “sun.” These were used as code words in early days of the Church beginning with the first Doctrine and Covenants in 1835.

There are several other terms that are related to the sun in the Book of Abraham materials, I just don’t have time to go into all those and they are not as certain as some of these that I’m looking at.

The explanation to Facsimile 1, Fig. 12 reads (and I’m going to pronounce this correctly) Raukeeyang, the spelling there came from Joseph Smith’s association with his Hebrew teacher Joshua Seixas who transliterated things in this way but anybody who knows that transliteration method knows how the Hebrew word is actually spelled. Anyways the explanation reads, “Raukeeyang, signifying expanse, or the firmament over our heads; but in this case, in relation to this subject, the Egyptians meant it to signify Shaumau, to be high, or the heavens, answering to the Hebrew word, Shaumahyeem.” Which is a dual form—two heavens. This Hebrew word rāqīa does in fact mean expanse. We get the term firmament by a mistake that was made by St. Jerome when he was translating the Bible into Latin, he spelled it- he translated it firmamentum and so it came across that way in later times too. It’s true that the verb raqa(?) can mean to hammer out a sheet of metal like gold and make it a thin sheet but it can mean actually to expand in other ways as well.

The normal Hebrew word for heaven or sky is actually a dual form shemayim

which Joseph Smith here transliterated as you can see. The Arabic cognate is in

the singular, it’s samā as is the Akkadian šāmū, it’s in the singular. Hebrew is the only one that has it in this dual, as far as I know. Mitchell Dahood, a very well- known scholar now deceased from the Pontifical Biblical Institute, probably the only Arab who ever was associated with that group, actually proposed that for Palm 68:4 that instead of reading shemo, which would mean “his name”, the word should read shameh which would be “the heaven” in a singular form.

Abraham 3:13 defines Kokob as “star” and Kokaubeam as “stars, or all the great lights, which were in the firmament of heaven.” When first published in the Times & Seasons, the passage read “Kolob” in error. They’d written Kolob so many times that the typesetter thought that’s what belonged here. The manuscripts however have Kokob corresponding to the Hebrew word that we have written here kōkāb and denotes in the one singular and the other in the plural. The plural is also found two other times in the Book of Abraham and it’s called in Facsimile 2, Fig. 5 and also Abraham 3:16 it lists Kokaubeam or kōkābīm in Hebrew. The correct pronunciation (inaudible) means “the” so it’s “the stars.” Lundquist noted that one of the deities in Deimel’s list was dKakob meaning “star”. Similar, Kakkab is the name of one of the god’s mentioned in the Ebla records discovered in northwestern Syria.

Kae-e-vanrash there’s an interesting one, I’m still scratching my head over parts of this. In Facsimile 2, Fig. 5, we read about Kae-e-vanrash “which is the grand Key, or, in other words, the governing power, which governs fifteen other fixed planets or stars, as also Floeese or the Moon, the Earth and the Sun in their annual revolutions.” The element Kae may here be the Egyptian word kA which we saw earlier meaning “spirit” and the element rash at the end looks very much to me like it’s a Semitic term. In Hebrew rō’š but in Arabic Rās and ra’as (it doesn’t have the should, it has a (inaudible) sound for the cognates in Arabic) and that word means “head, or chief” and so I’m suspecting that that’s what is going on here. Now if I can only figure out what this is in the middle, so if any of you have suggestions send me email.

The Book of Abraham and associated Egyptian Papers mention the names of specific individuals whom Abraham evidently encountered during his brief sojourn in Egypt. Some of them such as Shulem and Olimlah are listed in the explanation of Facsimile 3 while others are found in the Abraham text or other texts associated therewith. I’m not going to go into all those names however.

I’d like to give some ideas on this one, Abraham 1:11 describes Onitah as “one of the royal descent directly from the loins of Ham” whose three daughters were sacrificed because they would not worship the Egyptian gods. The name may be the same as Onitos and Onitas in the Valuable Discovery notebook where there is an ‘s’ at the end instead of the ‘h.’ there he is said to have been king of Egypt

while the chapter 1 of Abraham says he was of the “royal descent.” It may correspond to the name Wenis (or usually pronounced Unas by those who transliterate it from the Egyptian). He was a pharaoh of the 5th dynasty of Egypt. He is not our man however because Unas lived long before Abraham’s time, he lived a few centuries before that, but there is an Egyptian text that indicates that the pharaoh Unas ate the boiled body parts of gods by which most Egyptologists have assumed that it means he was a cannibal—he was eating not gods, but humans and if that be the case it does make it look a little suspicious if this is the guy in whose day his daughters are being offered in sacrifice.

Two related Egyptian terms may give us clues about the meaning of the name Unas. The first is wnwt meaning “priesthood” and the second wnwty meaning “astronomer” both of which play an important role in the Book of Abraham which describes Abraham’s teachings of astronomy to the Egyptians and the rival claims of Abraham and Pharaoh to patriarchal priesthood authority.

The name Katumin also appears in the Valuable Discovery notebook, and the first passage reads, “Katumin, Princess, daughter of On-i-tas [Pharaoh] King of Egypt, who began to reign in the year of the World 2962.” The second reads, “Katumin was born in the 30th year of the reign of her father, and died when she was 28 years old, which was the year 3020.” I’m presuming she was sacrificed but the text doesn’t say that. It also appears in the form of Kah tou mun as an alternative. It may derive from the Egyptian KA-tA-Mn which would be the “spirit of the land of Min.” Min was one of the Egyptian gods; he was a fertility god in fact, who is closely associated with the land. Various classical writers claim that the first king of Egypt was named Mēnēs and that name has often been tied in with the name of the god Min.

A few specific places are named in the Book of Abraham and associated Kirtland Egyptian Papers. Of these, Egypt and Ur of the Chaldees are also known from the biblical account of the life of Abraham.

Here, we’ll look at two important place names associated with Abraham that are not in the Bible because neither place is in Egypt, these names are not derived from the Egyptian language. The plain of Olishem is named in the Abraham 1:10 as the place in Ur of the Chaldees where the Egyptians had erected an altar on which they sacrificed human beings. John L. Lundquist has noted that the name is attested in a record of Naram Sin, a 23rd century B.C. king of Akkad as Ulisum and is listed with the (inaudible) mountains and the city Ebla in northwest Syria not far from Abraham’s homeland.

Akkadian and Hebrew are both part of the Semitic language family by the way and the exchange between the ‘o’ and ‘u’ is well attested in Semitic languages.

Here’s one I kind of like- Kalsiduniash. The name Kalsiduniash is spelled in various ways in the Kirtland Egyptian Papers. In one it appears as chalsidon hish(sp?) and is identified as the land of the Chaldeans. This meaning is also given in another of the text where it is spelled as Za Ki-oan hiash, and also chalsidon hiash(sp?). It appears in other spelling forms as well in those documents.

The ending ‘iash’ is interesting to me. It is known from the name of the Cassite (inaudible) and the names of the Cassite kings of Babylon (inaudible). The Cassites controlled Mesopotamia during the 17th century B.C. This of course post- dates the time of Abraham—he was 20th century B.C.—but it’s hard to ignore the fact that the Cassites called Mesopotamia Kar-Duniash which closely resembles the name found in the Kirtland Egyptian Papers with the interchange of the ‘l’ and the ‘r’ again which are common between Semitic languages and those in the broader language family which includes Egyptian called Afro-asiatic.

A Falasha text called Teezaza Sanbat (Commandment of the Sabbath), Falasha by the way, those are the Black Jews of Ethiopia, in describing Nimrod’s attempt to kill Abraham because he would not worship the idols noted regarding the furnace into which he was tossed, ‘From that day until today it is called (inaudible)’ (which sounds very much like these two- not identical but it’s similar. The name is evidently to be tied to the Akkadian term (inaudible), a people identified with the biblical Chaldeans, or Kasidim in Hebrew, in whose land Abraham lived at the time he was brought for sacrifice. According to the conflict of Adam and Eve, and early Christian texts, among the magi who came to visit the newborn Jesus, one account names Karsundas, king of the East. I have his name at the bottom of the list but look how closely it corresponds to the others. There’s something below the surface here and I’m not quite sure what it is but we’ll continue to work on it.

As we have seen many of the names associated with the Book of Abraham and related documents have valid ancient etymologies. To be sure, there remain unanswered questions particularly about the so-called Alphabet and Grammar but it is hard to ignore the hits in the Book of Abraham. The number of names that are authentically ancient far outnumber those for which we cannot at present establish an etymology making coincidence and improbable explanation. That holds for the names, not necessarily for the words that are found, for example, in the Grammar materials.

Q: Is Rahleenos an authentic Chaldean word and if so does it mean hieroglyphics?

TVEDTNES: As far as I know it is not Chaldean. The term Chaldean is rather confusing anyway. In Joseph Smith’s day the term Chaldean usually referred to

Aramaic. Some of the books of the Old Testament are in Aramaic rather than in Hebrew and some are part Hebrew and part Aramaic.

Daniel, for example, beginning with chapter 2:5 (I think it is) and all the way through to the end of chapter 6 is all in Aramaic. The rest of it is in Hebrew. So does it mean ‘that’ Chaldean? Or does it mean Chaldean the language that was spoken by the people we call Chaldeans? Hard to say because those people spoke Akkadian; that’s what we call it at least. I don’t know what they called it.

But the question isn’t phrased in such a way to really give it a good answer, but as I did mention, the original manuscript does say (inaudible) in Egyptian and as I said, I don’t think it has anything to do with it meaning specifically that in Chaldean whatever that is, but it does make sense if it is the language of god, which would be hieroglyphics—the language of the priests.

*****

Watch this presentation, including all of the slides, on our Youtube site. Pt. 1- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUbp04NFCl0

Pt. 2- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KJk_cNFqE_E

Pt. 3- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kff_q7lW5wM&playnext=1&list=PL324F03A81448DE56

Pt. 4- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imTI8vqbwcA&feature=watch_response_rev

Pt. 5- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMykjwISwCo&feature=watch_response_rev

Pt. 6- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fFp4CgASwOc&feature=watch_response_rev

[Transcriber’s endnotes.]

1 Hugh Nibley, Abraham in Egypt [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1981], 193 – 194.

2 The Persian Wars by Herodotus, Book 2 – EUTERPE.

3 John Lundquist, “Was Abraham in Ebla?” in Studies in Scripture II: The Pearl of Great Price, ed. Robert

L. Millet and Kent Jackson (Salt Lake City: Randall, 1985).

4 See Astronomy, Papyrus, and Covenant, ed. John Gee and Brian M. Hauglid. Foundation for Ancient Research and Mormon Studies, Provo, Utah, 2005.

 

A Few Hundred Hints of Egyptian and Northwest Semitic in Uto-Aztecan

Start Here

Question
Is there linguistic evidence linking the Book of Mormon to ancient Hebrew or Egyptian languages?

Short Answer
Some researchers, including linguist Brian Stubbs, argue that there are meaningful linguistic parallels between the Uto-Aztecan language family and ancient Semitic languages like Hebrew and Egyptian. These include shared vocabulary, consistent sound patterns, and similar grammatical structures. However, these findings have not yet been formally accepted by the broader linguistic community.
Key Takeaways
  • Linguistic comparisons suggest hundreds of potential parallels between Uto-Aztecan languages and Hebrew/Egyptian.
  • Proposed similarities include sound correspondences (e.g., b → p, t → s) and shared word meanings.
  • Some grammatical features—like plural endings and verb forms—also show similarities.
  • These patterns are presented as preliminary research, not yet peer-reviewed or widely accepted.
  • The absence of academic consensus does not necessarily mean evidence does not exist, especially in a field that develops slowly over time.

Summary

Summary

Brian Stubbs presents a detailed linguistic argument proposing connections between the Uto-Aztecan language family and Semitic languages such as Hebrew and Egyptian. Drawing on decades of research, he highlights hundreds of potential correspondences, including shared roots, similar meanings, and consistent phonological patterns such as b → p, t → s, and shifts involving pharyngeal consonants.

Beyond vocabulary, Stubbs emphasizes structural parallels—plural suffixes, verb forms, and article prefixes—that suggest deeper relationships than simple borrowing. He argues that these patterns may align with the Book of Mormon narrative, particularly the interaction of Nephite and Mulekite populations and their languages.

Stubbs acknowledges that his work has not yet been formally published or accepted by the linguistic community. However, he reports strong informal reactions from both LDS and non-LDS scholars. He concludes that the absence of accepted linguistic evidence does not necessarily mean such evidence does not exist, especially given the slow and complex nature of historical linguistics.

TL;DR

TL;DR (Too Long; Didn’t Read)

Brian Stubbs argues that there are meaningful linguistic parallels between Uto-Aztecan languages and ancient Hebrew and Egyptian. These include consistent sound changes, similar word meanings, and shared grammatical structures like plural endings and verb forms.

While this research is still developing and has not yet been formally accepted by the broader linguistic community, Stubbs presents it as evidence that language relationships described in the Book of Mormon may be more plausible than often assumed.

Note About the Slides in this Presentation

Note on Visuals:

The original slides from Brian Stubbs’ presentation were not available. The visuals included here were created using AI to help illustrate the concepts discussed. Every effort has been made to accurately reflect the speaker’s intent; however, any errors or oversimplifications are our own.

Language of the Book of Mormon Record

You’re all aware that in First Nephi—I believe it’s the second verse of the whole Book of Mormon—Nephi says that:

…I make a record in the language of my father, which consists of the learning of the Jews and the language of the Egyptians.

And of course, they left Jerusalem where Hebrew was spoken. It’s been a matter of discussion and debate among LDS scholars whether they:

  1. spoke only Hebrew; or,
  2. Hebrew and knew something of Egyptian.

But that debate has never really been resolved. In fact, I’ve discussed it with a few of the LDS scholars at BYU and mentioned to them that the real way to solve that debate is to look at American Indian languages.

Approach to Linguistic Evidence

Now, let’s give you a little background.

We don’t have time to make you linguists, and we don’t have time to teach you Hebrew and Egyptian. But we’re going to try to give you an overview of some of the basics.

The Book of Mormon is an account of:

  • the people of Lehi mainly, but others—
  • the Jaredites and
  • the Mulekites.

And of course, they came out of Jerusalem, presumably speaking Hebrew or something of the Northwest Semitic dialect, and came to the Americas. Their population increased in the Americas.

American Indian Languages and Criticism

Looking at American Indian languages, there are approximately 2,000 American Indian languages. Or there were, I should say. (There are) about a thousand now. About half of them have become extinct in the last few centuries.

The critics of the Book of Mormon say that no one has shown evidence of any American Indian language being descended from Hebrew or Egyptian, thus discounting the Book of Mormon. Or, no one has shown it to the satisfaction of the linguistic community.

Now, a linguist is a language scientist. They are the final word on whether two languages are related or not.

What Is a Language Family?

I am a linguist. I’ve been researching in a particular language family for the past 30 years, and we’re going to focus on that language family.

In fact, let’s talk about language families before we go any further.

A language family starts out some ancient time. They call this a proto-language—the original language, the old language. And from this are descended other languages.

How Languages Evolve Over Time

And interestingly, each of these languages, given time, will also separate. People move and go different places, and the language changes with time.

In fact, all living languages are always changing. So is English. Every living language changes. And from those, these become separate branches and other languages develop.

You get the picture.

Language Families in the Americas

Anyway, in the Americas there are about 2,000 languages. And these languages are organized into about 157 different language families.

That means that there are 157 different groups of related languages, each group coming from its proto form. But these different groups are not necessarily related to each other.

Some proposals have proposed that, ‘hey, this group (or this group of groups) are related in a larger picture’. And some of those will inevitably be shown to be the case. But as of now, there are about 157 language families. That’s quite a few.

Comparing Time Depth: Lehi and Other Language Families

If we look at the time depth of Lehi—Lehi came to the Americas about 2,600 years ago. Only 2,600 years ago! If we look at other language families with a time depth of 2,600 years, for example:

  • The Latin or Italic language family has descended from Latin.
  • You have Spanish, French, Portuguese, and so forth descending from Latin over about the last 2,000 years.
  • Germanic—that’s the language family that English belongs to, and also German and Dutch and many of the Scandinavian languages and so forth—all descend from Proto-Germanic, we call it, over about the last 3,000 years.

Expected vs. Observed Linguistic Patterns

So when you look at the similarities of languages descended from Latin, they’re very similar. There’s no problem seeing the relationship. Same thing with Germanic.

We should see something like that in the Americas—and yet it is problematic to see that.

First of all, if Lehi was the only one in the Americas, then there should only be one language family instead of 157. So we know that many other groups have come to the Americas besides Lehi.

Multiple Migration Sources

In fact, of these 157 language families, two of them are convincingly demonstrated to be from across the Bering Strait. Probably others were as well. But the language evidence suggests that at least two of these came from across the Bering Strait. A third one has some evidence for it.

The many sources of these language families would include Bering Strait people who entered the Americas.

Book of Mormon Peoples and Linguistic Diversity

You have Lehites or Lamanites and a few Nephites. You have the Mulekites.

Now remember, the Mulekites and Nephites mixed in the Book of Mormon about 200 BC or so—that’s just a guess. And that group of Mulekites might only be one of many.

I mean, the group of Mulekites that the Nephites mixed with would only be one of each of the branches.

Complex Population Mixing

In other words, you’d have many other Mulekite descendants, probably, and this one group mixed with the Nephites.

You’d also have other groups of Lehites, and only this one group mixed with the Mulekites.

You also probably have leftover Jaredites.

Jaredite Influence Hypothesis

My guess is that the Jaredites might be as prominent in the Americas as any, mainly because of 157 different language families.

And of course, the Jaredites date from about the Tower of Babel, which is basically the history of the earth. Since Noah, anyway.

Language Mixing in the Americas

There are probably many other sources besides those. And what happens is, when language groups get in contact with each other, the languages mix.

Many languages are mixtures of various languages. For example, English is very much a mixture. It comes from Old English originally, so it’s called a Germanic language.

However, at various points in time, English has borrowed a lot from Latin. And the two or three centuries after 1066, when the Norman French speakers conquered the British Isles and ruled for a couple of centuries, much French was borrowed into English.

English as an Example of Language Blending

So much French and so much Latin, and other times, that in an unabridged English dictionary, the Germanic part of our vocabulary is actually quite small compared to the Latin dimension of our vocabulary.

But we still call it a Germanic language.

Now, this kind of thing has probably been happening in the Americas.

  • Bering Strait languages
  • old leftover Jaredite languages
  • Lamanite
  • Nephite
  • Mulekite languages
  • and a lot of other things that have arrived in the Americas besides those

have been mixing.

And so it’s a very sticky mess.

Introducing the Uto-Aztecan Language Family

Nevertheless, there’s one language family that we’d like to focus on, and that is the Uto-Aztecan language family.

The Uto-Aztecan language family is a group of about 30 American Indian languages that linguists recognize as being one language family descended from a single proto-language called Proto-Uto-Aztecan.

Geography and Structure of Uto-Aztecan

There are about eight branches of it. In other words, it was divided into about eight different groups. And then those groups had the other descended languages.

This language family exists in the southwest United States and in northwest Mexico.

The name “Uto-Aztecan” comes from:

  • the Utes on the north here in Utah, and
  • the branch related to the Utes—which includes
    • the Shoshoni of Wyoming and
    • other languages in Nevada and
    • eastern California—and
  • “Aztecan” because that’s the south end of the language family.

Examples of Uto-Aztecan Languages

The Hopi, for example, are a Uto-Aztecan language.

Pima and Papago (Tohono O’odham) in Arizona, the various Ute groups—there are about a dozen languages in southern California where the northern branch split and spread from.

There are about 15 languages in northwest Mexico: the Tarahumara (the great distance runners), and Cora and Huichol and Yaqui, and many of the Tepiman languages.

Scope and Significance of the Research

Anyway, we don’t have time to really go into a lot of detail about that. But the Uto-Aztecan language family is an American Indian language family that is one of the larger ones.

I mean, 30 languages is quite a few.

This is some research I’ve been working on for a number of years. It has not yet been published, but it will be. Give me another two or three years maybe.

Scholarly Feedback on the Research

However, I have shared it with a prominent Semiticist and a Uto-Aztecanist, and I’m a Uto-Aztecanist myself.

So I’ve shared it with my peers, and those whom I’ve shared it with privately are quite overwhelmed at the number of similarities and the closeness of them.

Morphemes and Plural Forms

For example—let’s see, let’s enlarge that a little bit. There we go. I know linguistics, but I’m technologically challenged.

Here we have the Hebrew on the left. Three different words or morphemes—which is a unit of a word—with meaning.

The plural suffix in Hebrew is -im. It’s put on the end of words, just like in English we have -s:

  • “dog” and “dogs” for plural.

In fact, this plural is in a number of words that you’re familiar with.

  • Elohim, for example, is a plural. (Corresponding to Arabic Allah.) Eloah would be the singular; Elohim, the plural.
  • Urim is a plural—ur, light; urim, lights.
  • Thummim—thum, perfection; thummim, perfections.

Anyway, the plural suffix in Uto-Aztecan is reconstructed to be -ima.

Reconstructed Forms and Pronunciation

Now, some Uto-Aztecanists will argue with that. Nevertheless, there is good evidence for that.

They would argue about the vowel in front.

By the way, I need to tell you that we’re going to pronounce the vowels like you do in Spanish or most languages of the world. If you know Spanish or any other language besides English, it’s probably close to that. English changed them all.

Agreement Among Linguists

Anyway, the plural suffix in Uto-Aztecan is -ima.

And I talked with Wick Miller, the foremost Uto-Aztecanist, before his passing, and explained all the evidence suggesting that.

He agreed that that’s a decent reconstruction for that plural suffix in Uto-Aztecan.

Grammatical Parallels: Prefixes and Verbs

There’s also a passive prefix in Hebrew ni- that’s put on the beginning of verbs to make a verb passive. You know, “I ate the apple.” “The apple was eaten.”

(By the way, that is also reciprocal and reflexive. That just means “we did it to each other”—like “I fought him,” or “he was fought,” or “we fought each other.” Those are reciprocal and passive meanings that do overlap a lot in all languages.)

In Uto-Aztecan there is a prefix na-, which also makes verbs reciprocal and passive.

Verb Correspondences

There’s also a verb—it’s yāšab in later Hebrew, but originally it was yāšab with a b, and it means “to sit down.” It also means “to dwell or reside at a place.”

Well, in Uto-Aztecan there’s a verb yasipa, which also means “to sit down” and “to reside at a certain place.”

Historical Linguistic Reconstruction

Now, those are somewhat close.

However, when we consider the fact that the Hebrew plural suffix -im came from an older form. Ima is the original form. Linguists and Semiticists can figure out, looking at related languages, that the older original form was -ima.

Then we see that the plural suffix of the Near East—in Northwest Semitic—is identical to the Uto-Aztecan plural suffix.

Shared Linguistic Origins

Also, the Hebrew ni- came from an earlier na-—Semiticists know that and agree on that—identical to the Uto-Aztecan passive, reciprocal, and reflexive prefix.

Also, the Hebrew word yāšab changed its vowel at a certain time in the history of Hebrew, and it was originally yāšiba.

And the vowel pattern of the Uto-Aztecan verb is identical: yasipa, just a change from b to p.

Sound Change Patterns

Very interesting similarities. Now, these are only three similarities.

There are about a thousand such similarities between the Uto-Aztecan language family and Hebrew and Egyptian.

Now, trying to decide how many similarities—we have lots of them here. Let’s get into it a little bit further.

Systematic Sound Correspondences

There are three basic sound changes.

Now I need to explain here that linguists have found that sounds change in consistent patterns. So that this language changes this sound this way, and another language changes it another way—quite consistently within itself.

So that later this sound corresponds to another sound in the other related language.

Examples of Sound Changes

For example, Hebrew b in dagesh positions (which means at the beginning of a word or in certain positions) changed to kw in Uto-Aztecan.

The emphatic or pharyngeal ṣ changed to s.

That “c” with a little hook under it we’re going to use to represent the ts sound. In fact, that’s how it’s pronounced now in modern Israel.

The r changed to y or i, another very common change in world languages.

Lexical Comparisons

Keeping those three sound changes in mind, look at these similarities between Hebrew words and Uto-Aztecan words.

For example, the Hebrew verb ‘to boil’ or ‘ripen’ is bašal. The corresponding word is kwasa.

It’s missing the final l, but the b corresponds to kw, and the š corresponds to s.

Semantic and Phonological Matches

The Hebrew word for ‘flesh’ or ‘meat’ is bāśar (and other meanings). In Uto-Aztecan it’s kwasi.

Again, you see the b change to kw, the š corresponds to s, and the r goes to an i or y sound. (In fact, in some of the languages, the Y actually shows up.)

The verb for babba in Arabic but ṣabba in Hebrew—means ‘to latch onto something, to grab’ —like a lizard.

Multi-Meaning Correspondence Example

Notice the double b. That would cause a kw in Uto-Aztecan.

And interestingly, this corresponds perfectly. In Uto-Aztecan, takwa means ‘to close or lock’, like it does in Arabic and Hebrew and other semitic languages. It also means ‘to catch or grasp’, like it does in Arabic.

Striking Lexical Parallel

And one of the nouns coming from that verb is a word for lizard.

Sabb—or in Arabic, ḍabb—means lizard.

And in Uto-Aztecan, takwa also means lizard.

So here you have an identical form that has all three meanings:

  • to close or lock
  • to grab
  • lizard

They match phonologically—all the sounds match. They also have those same three meanings in Uto Aztecan.

Additional Verb and Pattern Examples

In fact, here are a couple of more examples. Shāb is a past tense. Shābad is the imperfect form of the conjugation. Don’t worry if you don’t understand all the words I’m using—we don’t have time to explain it—but you can get the picture here.

Anyway, šab saqqu—you see the s lining up, the double b to the qua, and the r to the y. Same thing with ṭaq.

Here are a few others. Mayim is the Hebrew word for water. Mim, mi, mima is the word for ocean in a number of Uto-Aztecan languages. The word for shoulder is similar.

I’m just going to go real fast here.

The word for shoulder—shekem or shikmo—shikmo if it’s got a suffix. Sikum—actually with an m sometimes. The capital N just means any kind of nasal. It changes according to the letter following it.

Singab—word for squirrel. If this word existed in Hebrew, it would match Arabic in a form of shigb. We don’t have that word for squirrel in ancient Hebrew because there is no need to talk about squirrels in the Old Testament.

But the sound correspondence is among Semitic languages themselves.

Semitic Language Family Context

By the way, Semitic—I might need to explain that term—is the language family to which Hebrew, Arabic, Babylonian, Ethiopic and Semitic languages belong. Arabic is closely related to Hebrew. Oh, and Aramaic—that will be important in our discussion.

Sound Change Patterns

Anyway, šigb would be the word in Hebrew; kʷul with a silent consonant at the end is the word in Uto-Aztecan.

G changed to C—that devoicing of G and D to C and T—and B to P in other positions is also established with several examples.

Another verb—Aramaic—and by the way, yes, these are examples of r changing to y or i.

Phonetic Relationships (i and y)

By the way, those are basically the same letter. You don’t think of i and y being the same letter.

But say the vowel i between two a’s, for example aya, and if you make the vowel long, it’s ē. But if you make it short, i, then the i becomes a y.

They’re both pronounced in exactly the same place in the mouth. So whether you see an i or a y, they’re basically the same.

More Comparative Examples

Anyway, shaq, the word for comb the hair—which I don’t have too much of anymore—and in Uto-Aztecan, suk. You see the y corresponding to the y, and everything else matches fairly well.

Kara—to go in circles or to do dances. In Southern Paiute, kia—to have a round dance.

Semantic and Motion Verbs

mar, to go or flow or pass by in Semitic languages generally; in Uto-Aztecan, mia.

barr in Arabic, meaning field or land as opposed to water; kwa in Uto-Aztecan.

And there’s actually one language that has the ru, so they have three examples in a row of an r between vowels going to y in Uto-Aztecan.

Transition to Broader Examples

There are several others, but we don’t have time for everything. Let’s skip those.

Oh, here are some interesting ones. Let’s take a look at these. I’m watching my clock here.

So what we’re going to do is give a lot of examples—just look at them—and there are many very interesting ones. Then we’ll talk about what it all means.

“Adam” and Color Associations

One of the words for man in Hebrew is ʾādām. In Uto-Aztecan we have ʔitam.

Another word from that same root, ʾāḏōm, means red—and in fact the verb ʾāḏam means ‘to be red’.

In Arabic you’ve got ʾaduma, ʾadimal, and so forth. And in Uto-Aztecan, ʔitam is the word for brown. Red and brown are often associated.

Pharyngeal Sounds and Vowels

Now, the pharyngeal Hebrew ḥ is reflected by o or u. The pharyngeal ḥ is different than our English h—it’s pronounced very gutturally in the pharynx.

For example, instead of “aha” with a regular h, it’s a very guttural sound.

And that gutturalness makes its tonality very similar to round vowels. In fact, it’s always associated with round vowels like o and u.

Pharyngeal Correspondences

So here we have—usually u is what it corresponds to in Uto-Aztecan. For example, ḥēṣ is the Hebrew word for arrow; in Uto-Aztecan it’s uṣ.

You’ve got that pharyngeal ḥ causing the vowel.

ḥāmar means to smear something—again you see the pharyngeal ḥ going to u, and the r going to y. ḥarak, same thing.

More Pharyngeal Examples

ḥālal, the verb to play the flute; in Uto-Aztecan, kulul. It’s missing the initial ḥ, but it’s got the round vowels and the two l’s. It’s very similar.

Aḥa—to cough—and ohoho, and so forth.

To cry—with that guttural ḥ—you’ve got the š corresponding to s, the r to y, and the w or u, which is also like a round vowel, corresponding to ḥ.

Relationship Between w, u, i, and y

In fact, w’s and u’s are like i and y. If you say awa, you make a u sound between two a’s, and say it faster and faster, then it becomes w.

So w’s and o’s and u’s are very similar.

The Pharyngeal ʿAyin

The pharyngeal ʿayin is also a pharyngeal. But it’s voiced pharyngeal instead of voiceless. It’s a sound unique to Semitic languages, not in European languages.

In fact, in Saudi Arabia, you have two ʿayin’s. Saʿu-di—Aʿra-bia. There’s an ʿayin between Saudi and Arabia. There are consonants between those.

Anyway, the pharyngeal also goes to w or o or u. That pharyngeal behaves very much like the other pharyngeal.

Examples Involving ʿAyin

And here are some examples. For example, the verb ṣāʿaq is the word to cry—or “to cry out”—in Hebrew; in Uto-Aztecan, soach. You’ve got that “ooa” that shows the presence of a pharyngeal.

Šaʿa—ʿāhab, to delight in or love. In Uto-Aztecan, shoa.

Oh, this is a great one. In Arabic, there is a verb to grow old—specifically used for women. It’s not used for men or any other kind of creature. It means for a woman to grow old. Its consonants are ʿ, ġ, and z—ġ-z-y. ġaẓiya.

In Tarahumara, one of our Uto-Aztecan languages—identical. And it specifically means to grow old (only women): wakaza. For some reason, there’s not such a verb for men. There’s a little bit of chauvinism in ancient languages.

Anyway, you see the ‘ayin, corresponding to the W. ġaẓiya and wakaza, word for older woman.

Shelar—hair. Šaʿar in Arabic; in Uto-Aztecan, wiša.

You see the š corresponding, the pharyngeal ‘ayin to w, and the r to e.

More Word Comparisons

Word for boy: naʿar; in Uto-Aztecan niya.

Again, the pharyngeal ayin with the w/y, and the r going to e.

Enough of that one. Let’s look at a few more here.

Final Comparative Examples

The word for forest: yaʿar. yui

To swallow: bālaʿ; in Uto-Aztecan kʷu. Again, b corresponding to kw, l to l, and ʿ to u.

The word for ‘leech’ in Hebrew and Arabic—ʿalūq. In Uto-Aztecan, wak.

Glottal Stop Behavior

The Semitic ʾaleph (glottal stop) also acts like a pharyngeal. The glottal stop is like an “uh uh” catch in the throat—ʔ.

It often went to w. In fact, it does in Arabic; glottal stops sometimes go to w.

Final Linguistic Alignments

The word for lion in Hebrew—ʾaryēh; in Uto-Aztecan, warya.

The word for “believe”: yaʾamin, ʾāman—“he believes” in Hebrew. Yahwamin means “to believe” in Uto-Aztecan. Ya amino, amino—“he believes him” or “believes it”—is another Hebrew word from that verb.

Gabrielino: -o—I know it’s missing the m, but it’s actually got the -o meaning “him” or “it” as an object.

Probability Observation

The probability of those seven segments aligning perfectly like that—I figured out manually once—it’s one in several thousand anyway, the probability of it aligning by chance.

There are a lot of other interesting words—we don’t have time to go over all of them. Let’s run to the Egyptian.

Oh yes, and what’s interesting is in Uto-Aztecan, we not only find about 600–700 similarities between Hebrew and Uto-Aztecan, we also find about 300 similarities between Egyptian and Uto-Aztecan. Egyptian & Uto-Aztecan parallels

Similarities Between Egyptian and Uto-Aztecan

This first one was not found by me. It was found by Cyrus Gordon, an internationally renowned Semiticist, who happened to notice that the Aztec word—Classical Nahuatl—for crocodile, cipactli, which comes from Uto-Aztecan supak, was very similar to the Egyptian word for crocodile, Sobek.

Oh yes—and the old perfective in Egyptian has verbs ending in -e if it was past tense or passive/stative kinds of things. Interestingly, in Uto-Aztecan there’s a mechanism that has verbs ending in -a being active or transitive, and verbs ending in -e being passive, intransitive, and stative—exactly like it is in Egyptian.

The passive -w or -ew in Egyptian—exact same thing in Uto-Aztecan. In fact, there are four ways in Egyptian to make a verb stative or passive, and one in Arabic—and Uto-Aztecan has all five of them quite prominently.

This goes into pronouns—we don’t have time for pronouns. Let’s take a look at some Egyptian words.

Egyptian Consonants and Uto-Aztecan

By the way, in Egyptian we only have the consonants. We know a little bit about the vowels from Coptic, even though they’re debatable sometimes. We have a few vowels figured out by transliterations into other languages, but a lot of it is still quite unknown.

So the Egyptian consonants for a verb meaning “to pierce” are t-k-s. In Uto-Aztecan, tikselo is the verb meaning to pierce or poke.

k-m is the verb meaning black, brown—any dark color. In Coptic, kēme; in Uto-Aztecan, koma, meaning dark gray, brown, black.

n-m-y is the word for traveling or crossing something. In Uto-Aztecan, nami means traveling, walking around, crossing an area or a river.

Wnš—or wunish, whatever the vowels were—in Coptic, onch; in Uto-Aztecan, once, onceo, and onceu, the word for “fox.”

100 out of 1000 Examples

Let’s just pick out a few of each page. Like I say, there are about a thousand of these—we’re going to show you about a hundred or 150. If you want all of them, they’re in a book in the back. By the title of this, if you want the whole story and you’re interested in this kind of thing, you’ve got all the details in 110 pages back there. We’re just getting the tip of the iceberg here.

For example, šim in Egyptian, the word for “go” or “walk”; sema in Uto-Aztecan.

Another: sbk (Egyptian), calf of the leg or lower leg; in Uto-Aztecan sepika—same three consonants. Calf of the leg, lower leg.

Oh, by the way, Coptic is a later form of Egyptian that did put vowels into it. It existed about the time of Christ.

s-b-t in Coptic; sapi in Uto-Aztecan, meaning fence or enclosure.

k-b in Egyptian, meaning cool, calm, quiet; kopa in Uto-Aztecan, quiet and calm.

Similarities Between Egyptian and Uto-Aztecan

This first one was not found by me. It was found by Cyrus Gordon, an internationally renowned Semiticist, who happened to notice that the Aztec word—Classical Nahuatl—for crocodile, cipactli, which comes from Uto-Aztecan supak, was very similar to the Egyptian word for crocodile, Sobek.

Oh yes—and the old perfective in Egyptian has verbs ending in -e if it was past tense or passive/stative kinds of things. Interestingly, in Uto-Aztecan there’s a mechanism that has verbs ending in -a being active or transitive, and verbs ending in -e being passive, intransitive, and stative—exactly like it is in Egyptian.

The passive -w or -ew in Egyptian—exact same thing in Uto-Aztecan. In fact, there are four ways in Egyptian to make a verb stative or passive, and one in Arabic—and Uto-Aztecan has all five of them quite prominently.

This goes into pronouns—we don’t have time for pronouns. Let’s take a look at some Egyptian words.

Similarities Between these two languages

By the way, in Egyptian we only have the consonants. We know a little bit about the vowels from Coptic, even though they’re debatable sometimes. We have a few vowels figured out by transliterations into other languages, but a lot of it is still quite unknown.

So the Egyptian consonants for a verb meaning “to pierce” are t-k-s. In Uto-Aztecan, tikselo is the verb meaning to pierce or poke.

k-m is the verb meaning black, brown—any dark color. In Coptic, kēme; in Uto-Aztecan, koma, meaning dark gray, brown, black.

n-m-y is the word for traveling or crossing something. In Uto-Aztecan, nami means traveling, walking around, crossing an area or a river.

Wnš—or wunish, whatever the vowels were—in Coptic, onch; in Uto-Aztecan, once, onceo, and onceu, the word for “fox.”

Egyptian Article Prefixes as Proofs

Now, Egyptian has article prefixes. For a feminine noun, wꜣ means “a bee.” tꜣ means “the,” so you’d put that on the front, meaning “the bee.” And nꜣ is the plural “the” in Egyptian, meaning “the bees.” So you have wꜣ, tꜣ, and nꜣ as prefixes to the word.

And here we have in Uto-Aztecan: the Tarahumara language has three different variants for this word “bumblebee”: napara, tapara, and wapara.

The -para part is simply a vowel change. Since the last vowel is a, it tends to change the vowels in front of it to a. That happens often in English and other languages. So para becomes para. Intervocalic t becomes r often.

So para is the word for bee, and it has those same three prefixes for a feminine noun. In Egyptian, bit is a feminine noun. Boy, you can’t get a much better match than that. direct word comparisons between Egyptian and Uto-Aztecan

Egyptian–Uto-Aztecan Word Parallels

A few more: Egyptian bꜣk (hawk); in Uto-Aztecan, pak.

Now we have to show you these. The word for lion in Egyptian—mꜣꜥy (consonants m-ʔ-y). Remember, the glottal stop goes to w, and i is the same as y. In Coptic, it’s moui. In Uto-Aztecan, mawya—all three consonants showing perfectly.

tjt—a shroud or garment—in Egyptian; in Uto-Aztecan, tutui—all three consonants matching.

tꜣ is the Egyptian word for earth; in Uto-Aztecan, ti, meaning dirt, dust, sand.

Sot—the word for son.

Glottal Stop Correspondence and Shifts

The word for old man, or “to be old,” in Egyptian—that’s an i, glottal stop, w—iwꜣ; in Uto-Aztecan, yowa—again, the glottal stop showing with rounding and the w.

This is wonderful: sbꜣ. In Coptic, it’s sba. But Coptic has already lost the glottal stop of Egyptian—it only has the s originally from the Egyptian. Whereas Uto-Aztecan has all three consonants still showing. But the glottal stop jumped from the third consonant to the second. So seepo is the word for star in Uto-Aztecan.

And by the way, this is a consistent pattern—the glottal stop jumping ahead for certain words or kinds of vocalizations.

Transition to Hebrew Sound Correspondences

We’re not going to have time to show you all this. I’ve got to show you one other page, and then we’ll come to some conclusions.

Anyway, after I found all of these Egyptian words, the sound correspondences of Egyptian were a little bit different than what I had found for Hebrew.

The t goes to s, and the b to p, and so forth. Then I started noticing lots of words in Uto-Aztecan as well where the Hebrew b corresponded to p.

Hebrew “b → p” Correspondence Examples

Here’s a good list of them. The p-dialect of Hebrew, for example—the word in Hebrew for lightning is baraq; in Uto-Aztecan, peraq. The word for house, bēt; in Uto-Aztecan, pet.

The word also as a verb—“to spend the night”—in Uto-Aztecan means house, and pet as a verb also means to spend the night. Betach, petirach—that’s that pharyngeal ḥ behavior, and so forth.

Another example: bōʾ means “coming,” or also “the way,” in Hebrew; po, identical in Uto-Aztecan for road or path.

This is a good one: bāṣaʿ, to look or see; bassar, to open the eyes. In Arabic, baṣar for eye—the Hebrew voweling would be bosi, which matches Uto-Aztecan pusi. This is a bit strange, but it matches. We don’t have that word in Hebrew per se.

The word for daughter, bat; in Uto-Aztecan, pate.

Discovery of a “p-Dialect” in Uto-Aztecan

And so forth. Several hundred other words showed me that there is also a p-dialect of Hebrew in Uto-Aztecan. And it wasn’t until I found all three of these that it dawned on me—I’m a little slow and dense at times—that here we have one dialect of Hebrew, or Hebrew/Aramaic (it actually has a lot of Aramaic leaning).

Northwest Semitic Connections: Hebrew and Aramaic

This p-dialect of Northwest Semitic—shall we call it—Aramaic and Hebrew are both part of the Northwest Semitic branch of Semitic. Anyway, we have a p-dialect of Hebrew, and we have it matching Egyptian, and then we have a kw-dialect of Hebrew.

Possible Book of Mormon Connection: Zarahemla

And then it comes to mind, of course, the union of the Mulekites with the Nephites—Nephites who are dealing with both Egyptian and Hebrew uniting with the Mulekites. And it would appear, at first glance—in fact, there’s a whole bunch of other evidence that I don’t have time to show you—but this actually is a descendant of the language of Zarahemla, because you have all of them.

Reactions from Linguistic Experts

Now, of course, I’ve run this privately past a few Uto-Aztecan PhDs in linguistics that I work with—they’re non-LDS—and shown these similarities, and their jaws drop. They are really quite overwhelmed with the number and quality of the similarities. But it has not been published, so give me a little more time. I need to figure a few more things out and put some other things together first.

But from both LDS specialists, Semitic specialists and non-LDS Semitic specialists, and non-Uto-Aztecanists, it seems to be a very strong case.

And you know, this is only one of the 150 language families in the Americas. There are a lot of interesting things in other language families. So it’s all yet to be worked out, and it will all come out in the wash.

Responding to Critics

So when the critics say there is no language evidence for the Book of Mormon that has been accepted by the linguistic community, they are correct. There’s nothing yet that has been accepted by the linguistic community—but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

The progress of Native American language study generally is slow. It takes about three to five lifetimes to really get a language family figured out.

Q&A

Anyway—hey, let’s take a few questions.

First question:

This asks about other language families besides Uto-Aztecan. There are people who have claimed, for example, Swadesh claimed something for the Zapotecan languages. There’s a handful of similarities with Hebrew—not enough that anybody’s really paid attention to them.

Another person has put together some similarities with Quechua in the south, and about half of those are really good and could be worked up according to linguistic methodology, but that has not been done yet. Half of them are spurious and do not work so well.

Others have claimed things for Plains Indians, Iriquoi and so forth. I’ve looked at those languages myself. In fact, the reason I focused on Uto-Aztecan is because I looked at a few dozen language families before focusing on this one. There are some interesting things in other language families, but none of them have been put together, written up, and presented convincingly to the linguistic community—not even close. And so that has not been done yet.

Second Question:

(You’re assuming I can read small print!) This talks about the Uto-Aztecans not arriving in Mesoamerica until after 900 AD. Yes, Aztecan came quite late to where it is now. They claimed to have come from the northwest of there, which is interestingly where all the other Uto-Aztecan languages are.

Not only that, but I think that with time I might figure out where they come from exactly by language comparisons and areas.

But that doesn’t mean they didn’t come from the south, go north, and then return southward—perhaps survivors of the destruction of the Nephites—while others were northward. The homeland of the Uto-Aztecans is somewhere in northwest Mexico or the southwest U.S.

Third Question

This talks about the Olmec. Yes, the Olmec are the archaeological entity in the Gulf of Mexico that might be Jaredite-related, and that the Michoacán language family is associated with the Olmec tradition. That’s probably true—I don’t doubt it at all.

And this is basically asking about Jaredite languages. Yes, I am very interested in that matter. I think a lot of American Indian languages are more Jaredite-descended than Lehite—but that’s about three more lifetimes of research.

If anybody wants to become a linguist and dive into that, they’re welcome. My life’s two-thirds over, and I’m going to focus on as many language families as I can with the Lehi problem.

Question: We see in your examples words written—do these languages have written forms?

Answer: Some of them do. Some are simply spoken languages that linguists record. Others have modern written forms—they borrowed the Roman alphabet, just like we English speakers did.

The Romans borrowed the Greek alphabet to write Latin. The Greeks borrowed the Phoenician alphabet, and the Hebrews and Phoenicians got many of their symbols from Egyptian. So English is “reformed Egyptian,” too.

Here’s a very good question, and I meant to touch upon it:

Question: There are a lot of word similarities—are there any grammatical similarities?

Answer: Yes, I have found a few, but not many. That’s my focus for the next few years—to learn Egyptian better and find some grammatical similarities.

With more research, I think we can identify time and place of Egyptian influence and so forth. That will be interesting and mostly still needs to be done.

Question: Have you made comparisons with Mesoamerican and Hebrew languages?

Answer: Yes, I’ve looked at Mesoamerican languages. There are a couple of language families I want to look into—Oto-Manguean is interesting, and Hokan is interesting—but I haven’t had time yet.

Question: Aztec being a dead language—how do we know how it sounded?

Answer: Well, Aztec is not a dead language. There are still about a million speakers of Aztecs in Mexico—different dialects descended from Classical Nahuatl. But yeah, to be sure, one of the larger languages, still about a million speakers.

The largest Native language in the United States is Navajo, about 200,000 speakers; second largest is Cherokee, about 50,000. Others are less than 10,000, some less than 100, some already extinct.

But in Latin America, you have a million speakers of Aztec, six million speakers of Quechua—lots of languages flourishing there.

They don’t insist on public education in the same way—where they must learn Spanish—so they retain their native languages more than in the U.S., where English dominates.

So I’m an English teacher and a linguist—I’m working against myself. But they pay English teachers more, so that’s what I do for a living, and I try to help Native languages stay alive by not forcing English too aggressively.

Question: Is 600–700 similar words significant?

Yes, because some language relationships are founded on 50 similarities or less.

When you get 300 for each group, that is significant. But linguists would not accept a tripartite relationship—each relationship would have to stand on its own merit.

By the time everything is sifted, there will probably be enough for each hypothesis to stand on its own merit. But—give us time.

Search topics Uto-Aztecan language family; Hebrew language connections; Egyptian language parallels; Semitic linguistics; Book of Mormon language; Nephite language; Mulekite language; Zarahemla language; sound correspondences linguistics; historical linguistics methodology; Native American languages origins; linguistic evidence Book of Mormon; Proto-Uto-Aztecan; phonology sound shifts; morphology language comparison; pharyngeal consonants; glottal stop linguistics; Hebrew Egyptian mix language; language families Americas; linguistic reconstruction methods CES Letter language claims; Mormon language evidence criticism; Book of Mormon historicity debate; Mormon Church criticism language evidence; Are Mormons Christian linguistic claims; LDS apologetics language evidence; criticism of Book of Mormon languages; Native American origins debate Mormon; Mormon archaeology and linguistics; LDS truth claims evidence

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