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The fundamental problem was that n.o.body could be sure what language Linear B was written in. Initially, there was speculation that Linear B was a written form of Greek, because seven of the characters bore a close resemblance to characters in the cla.s.sical Cypriot script, which was known to be a form of Greek script used between 600 and 200 B.C B.C. But doubts began to appear. The most common final consonant in Greek is s, and consequently the commonest final character in the Cypriot script is[image] , which represents the syllable se-because the characters are syllabic, a lone consonant has to be represented by a consonant-vowel combination, the vowel remaining silent. This same character also appears in Linear B, but it is rarely found at the end of a word, indicating that Linear B could not be Greek. The general consensus was that Linear B, the older script, represented an unknown and extinct language. When this language died out, the writing remained and evolved over the centuries into the Cypriot script, which was used to write Greek. Therefore, the two scripts looked similar but expressed totally different languages. , which represents the syllable se-because the characters are syllabic, a lone consonant has to be represented by a consonant-vowel combination, the vowel remaining silent. This same character also appears in Linear B, but it is rarely found at the end of a word, indicating that Linear B could not be Greek. The general consensus was that Linear B, the older script, represented an unknown and extinct language. When this language died out, the writing remained and evolved over the centuries into the Cypriot script, which was used to write Greek. Therefore, the two scripts looked similar but expressed totally different languages.
Sir Arthur Evans was a great supporter of the theory that Linear B was not a written form of Greek, and instead believed that it represented a native Cretan language. He was convinced that there was strong archaeological evidence to back up his argument. For example, his discoveries on the island of Crete suggested that the empire of King Minos, known as the Minoan empire, was far more advanced than the Mycenaean civilization on the mainland. The Minoan Empire was not a dominion of the Mycenaean empire, but rather a rival, possibly even the dominant power. The myth of the Minotaur supported this position. The legend described how King Minos would demand that the Athenians send him groups of youths and maidens to be sacrificed to the Minotaur. In short, Evans concluded that the Minoans were so successful that they would have retained their native language, rather than adopting Greek, the language of their rivals. power. The myth of the Minotaur supported this position. The legend described how King Minos would demand that the Athenians send him groups of youths and maidens to be sacrificed to the Minotaur. In short, Evans concluded that the Minoans were so successful that they would have retained their native language, rather than adopting Greek, the language of their rivals.
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Figure 58 A Linear B tablet, c. 1400 A Linear B tablet, c. 1400 B.C B.C. (photo credit 5.4) [image]
Although it became widely accepted that the Minoans spoke their own non-Greek language (and Linear B represented this language), there were one or two heretics who argued that the Minoans spoke and wrote Greek. Sir Arthur did not take such dissent lightly, and used his influence to punish those who disagreed with him. When A.J.B. Wace, Professor of Archaeology at the University of Cambridge, spoke in favor of the theory that Linear B represented Greek, Sir Arthur excluded him from all excavations, and forced him to retire from the British School in Athens.
In 1939, the "Greek vs. non-Greek" controversy grew when Carl Blegen of the University of Cincinnati discovered a new batch of Linear B tablets at the palace of Nestor at Pylos. This was extraordinary because Pylos is on the Greek mainland, and would have been part of the Mycenaean Empire, not the Minoan. The minority of archaeologists who believed that Linear B was Greek argued that this favored their hypothesis: Linear B was found on the mainland where they spoke Greek, therefore Linear B represents Greek; Linear B is also found on Crete, so the Minoans also spoke Greek. The Evans camp ran the argument in reverse: the Minoans of Crete spoke the Minoan language; Linear B is found on Crete, therefore Linear B represents the Minoan language; Linear B is also found on the mainland, so they also spoke Minoan on the mainland. Sir Arthur was emphatic: "There is no place at Mycenae for Greek-speaking dynasts...the culture, like the language, was still Minoan to the core."
In fact, Blegen's discovery did not necessarily force a single language upon the Mycenaeans and the Minoans. In the Middle Ages, many European states, regardless of their native language, kept their records in Latin. Perhaps the language of Linear B was likewise a lingua franca among the accountants of the Aegean, allowing ease of commerce between nations who did not speak a common language.
For four decades, all attempts to decipher Linear B ended in failure. Then, in 1941, at the age of ninety, Sir Arthur died. He did not live to witness the decipherment of Linear B, or to read for himself the meanings of the texts he had discovered. Indeed, at this point, there seemed little prospect of ever deciphering Linear B. witness the decipherment of Linear B, or to read for himself the meanings of the texts he had discovered. Indeed, at this point, there seemed little prospect of ever deciphering Linear B.
Bridging Syllables After the death of Sir Arthur Evans the Linear B archive of tablets and his own archaeological notes were available only to a restricted circle of archaeologists, namely those who supported his theory that Linear B represented a distinct Minoan language. However, in the mid-1940s, Alice Kober, a cla.s.sicist at Brooklyn College, managed to gain access to the material, and began a meticulous and impartial a.n.a.lysis of the script. To those who knew her only in pa.s.sing, Kober seemed quite ordinary-a dowdy professor, neither charming nor charismatic, with a rather matter-of-fact approach to life. However, her pa.s.sion for her research was immeasurable. "She worked with a subdued intensity," recalls Eva Brann, a former student who went on to become an archaeologist at Yale University. "She once told me that the only way to know when you have done something truly great is when your spine tingles." those who knew her only in pa.s.sing, Kober seemed quite ordinary-a dowdy professor, neither charming nor charismatic, with a rather matter-of-fact approach to life. However, her pa.s.sion for her research was immeasurable. "She worked with a subdued intensity," recalls Eva Brann, a former student who went on to become an archaeologist at Yale University. "She once told me that the only way to know when you have done something truly great is when your spine tingles."
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Figure 59 Alice Kober. ( Alice Kober. (photo credit 5.5) In order to crack Linear B, Kober realized that she would have to abandon all preconceptions. She focused on nothing else but the structure of the overall script and the construction of individual words. In particular, she noticed that certain words formed triplets, inasmuch as they seemed to be the same word reappearing in three slightly varied forms. Within a word triplet, the stems were identical but there were three possible endings. She concluded that Linear B represented a highly inflective language, meaning that word endings are changed in order to reflect gender, tense, case and so on. English is slightly inflective because, for example, we say "I decipher, you decipher, he deciphers"-in the third person the verb takes an "s." However, older languages tend to be much more rigid and extreme in their use of such endings. Kober published a paper in which she described the inflective nature of two particular groups of words, as shown in Table 17 Table 17, each group retaining its respective stems, while taking on different endings according to three different cases.
For ease of discussion, each Linear B symbol was a.s.signed a two-digit number, as shown in Table 18 Table 18. Using these numbers, the words in Table 17 Table 17 can be rewritten as in can be rewritten as in Table 19 Table 19. Both groups of words could be nouns changing their ending according to their case-case 1 could be nominative, case 2 accusative, and case 3 dative, for example. It is clear that the first two signs in both groups of words (25-67- and 70-52-) are both stems, as they are repeated regardless of the case. However, the third sign is somewhat more puzzling. If the third sign is part of the stem, then for a given word it should remain constant, regardless of the case, but this does not happen. In word A the third sign is 37 for cases 1 and 2, but 05 for case 3. In word B the third sign is 41 for cases 1 and 2, but 12 for case 3. Alternatively if the third sign is not part of the stem, perhaps it is part of the ending, but this possibility is equally problematic. For a given case the ending should be the same regardless of the word, but for cases 1 and 2 the third sign is 37 in word A, but 41 in word B, and for case 3 the third sign is 05 in word A, but 12 in word B. changing their ending according to their case-case 1 could be nominative, case 2 accusative, and case 3 dative, for example. It is clear that the first two signs in both groups of words (25-67- and 70-52-) are both stems, as they are repeated regardless of the case. However, the third sign is somewhat more puzzling. If the third sign is part of the stem, then for a given word it should remain constant, regardless of the case, but this does not happen. In word A the third sign is 37 for cases 1 and 2, but 05 for case 3. In word B the third sign is 41 for cases 1 and 2, but 12 for case 3. Alternatively if the third sign is not part of the stem, perhaps it is part of the ending, but this possibility is equally problematic. For a given case the ending should be the same regardless of the word, but for cases 1 and 2 the third sign is 37 in word A, but 41 in word B, and for case 3 the third sign is 05 in word A, but 12 in word B.
Table 17 Two inflective words in Linear B. Two inflective words in Linear B.
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Table 18 Linear B signs and the numbers a.s.signed to them. Linear B signs and the numbers a.s.signed to them.
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The third signs defied expectations because they did not seem to be part of the stem or the ending. Kober resolved the paradox by invoking the theory that every sign represents a syllable, presumably a combination of a consonant followed by a vowel. She proposed that the third syllable could be a bridging syllable, representing part of the stem and part of the ending. The consonant could contribute to the stem, and the vowel to the ending. To ill.u.s.trate her theory, she gave an example from the Akkadian language, which also has bridging syllables and which is highly inflective. Sadanu Sadanu is a case 1 Akkadian noun, which changes to is a case 1 Akkadian noun, which changes to sadani sadani in the second case and in the second case and sadu sadu in the third case ( in the third case (Table 20). It is clear that the three words consist of a stem, sad-, and an ending, -anu (case 1), -ani (case 2), or -u (case 3), with -da-, -da- or -du as the bridging syllable. The bridging syllable is the same in cases 1 and 2, but different in case 3. This is exactly the pattern observed in the Linear B words-the third sign in each of Kober's Linear B words must be a bridging syllable. pattern observed in the Linear B words-the third sign in each of Kober's Linear B words must be a bridging syllable.
Table 19 The two inflective Linear B words rewritten in numbers. The two inflective Linear B words rewritten in numbers.
Word A Word A Word B Word B Case 1 25-67-37-57 25-67-37-57.
70-52-41-57 70-52-41-57.
Case 2 25-67-37-36 25-67-37-36.
70-52-41-36 70-52-41-36.
Case 3 25-67-05 25-67-05.
70-52-12 70-52-12.
Merely identifying the inflective nature of Linear B and the existence of bridging syllables meant that Kober had progressed further than anybody else in deciphering the Minoan script, and yet this was just the beginning. She was about to make an even greater deduction. In the Akkadian example, the bridging syllable changes from -da- -da- to to -du -du, but the consonant is the same in both syllables. Similarly, the Linear B syllables 37 and 05 in word A must share the same consonant, as must syllables 41 and 12 in word B. For the first time since Evans had discovered Linear B, facts were beginning to emerge about the phonetics of the characters. Kober could also establish another set of relations.h.i.+ps among the characters. It is clear that Linear B words A and B in case 1 should have the same ending. However, the bridging syllable changes from 37 to 41. This implies that signs 37 and 41 represent syllables with different consonants but identical vowels. This would explain why the signs are different, while maintaining the same ending for both words. Similarly for the case 3 nouns, the syllables 05 and 12 will have a common vowel but different consonants.
Kober was not able to pinpoint exactly which vowel is common to 05 and 12, and to 37 and 41; similarly, she could not identify exactly which consonant is common to 37 and 05, and which to 41 and 12. However, regardless of their absolute phonetic values, she had established rigorous relations.h.i.+ps between certain characters. She summarized her results in the form of a grid, as in Table 21 Table 21. What this is saying is that Kober had no idea which syllable was represented by sign 37, but she knew that its consonant was shared with sign 05 and its vowel with sign 41. Similarly, she had no idea which syllable was represented by sign 12, but knew that its consonant was shared with sign 41 and its vowel with sign 05. She applied her method to other words, eventually constructing a grid of ten signs, two vowels wide and five consonants deep. It is quite possible that Kober would have taken the next crucial step in decipherment, and could even have cracked the entire script. However, she did not live long enough to exploit the repercussions of her work. In 1950, at the age of forty-three, she died of lung cancer. consonant was shared with sign 05 and its vowel with sign 41. Similarly, she had no idea which syllable was represented by sign 12, but knew that its consonant was shared with sign 41 and its vowel with sign 05. She applied her method to other words, eventually constructing a grid of ten signs, two vowels wide and five consonants deep. It is quite possible that Kober would have taken the next crucial step in decipherment, and could even have cracked the entire script. However, she did not live long enough to exploit the repercussions of her work. In 1950, at the age of forty-three, she died of lung cancer.
Table 20 Bridging syllables in the Akkadian noun Bridging syllables in the Akkadian noun sadanu sadanu.
Case 1 sa-da-nu sa-da-nu Case 2 sa-da-ni sa-da-ni Case 3 sa-du sa-du
A Frivolous Digression Just a few months before she died, Alice Kober received a letter from Michael Ventris, an English architect who had been fascinated by Linear B ever since he was a child. Ventris was born on July 12, 1922, the son of an English Army officer and his half-Polish wife. His mother was largely responsible for encouraging an interest in archaeology, regularly escorting him to the British Museum where he could marvel at the wonders of the ancient world. Michael was a bright child, with an especially prodigious talent for languages. When he began his schooling he went to Gstaad in Switzerland, and became fluent in French and German. Then, at the age of six, he taught himself Polish.
Like Jean-Francois Champollion, Ventris developed an early love of ancient scripts. At the age of seven he studied a book on Egyptian hieroglyphics, an impressive achievement for one so young, particularly as the book was written in German. This interest in the writings of ancient civilizations continued throughout his childhood. In 1936, at the age of fourteen, it was further ignited when he attended a lecture given by Sir Arthur Evans, the discoverer of Linear B. The young Ventris learned about the Minoan civilization and the mystery of Linear B, and promised himself that he would decipher the script. That day an obsession was born that remained with Ventris throughout his short but brilliant life. Evans, the discoverer of Linear B. The young Ventris learned about the Minoan civilization and the mystery of Linear B, and promised himself that he would decipher the script. That day an obsession was born that remained with Ventris throughout his short but brilliant life.
Table 21 Kober's grid for relations.h.i.+ps between Linear B characters. Kober's grid for relations.h.i.+ps between Linear B characters.
Vowel 1 Vowel 1 Vowel 2 Vowel 2 Consonant I 37 37.
05 05.
Consonant II 41 41.
12 12.
At the age of just eighteen, he summarized his initial thoughts on Linear B in an article that was subsequently published in the highly respected American Journal of Archaeology American Journal of Archaeology. When he submitted the article, he had been careful to withhold his age from the journal's editors for fear of not being taken seriously. His article very much supported Sir Arthur's criticism of the Greek hypothesis, stating that "The theory that Minoan could be Greek is based of course upon a deliberate disregard for historical plausibility." His own belief was that Linear B was related to Etruscan, a reasonable standpoint because there was evidence that the Etruscans had come from the Aegean before settling in Italy. Although his article made no stab at decipherment, he confidently concluded: "It can be done."
Ventris became an architect rather than a professional archaeologist, but remained pa.s.sionate about Linear B, devoting all of his spare time to studying every aspect of the script. When he heard about Alice Kober's work, he was keen to learn about her breakthrough, and he wrote to her asking for more details. Although she died before she could reply, her ideas lived on in her publications, and Ventris studied them meticulously. He fully appreciated the power of Kober's grid, and attempted to find new words with shared stems and bridging syllables. He extended her grid to include these new signs, encompa.s.sing other vowels and consonants. Then, after a year of intense study, he noticed something peculiar-something that seemed to suggest an exception to the rule that all Linear B signs are syllables.
It had been generally agreed that each Linear B sign represented a combination of a consonant with a vowel (CV), and hence spelling would require a word to be broken up into CV components. For example, the English word minute would be spelled as mi-nu-te, a series of three CV syllables. However, many words do not divide conveniently into CV syllables. For example, if we break the word "visible" into pairs of letters we get vi-si-bl-e, which is problematic because it does not consist of a simple series of CV syllables: there is a double-consonant syllable and a spare -e at the end. Ventris a.s.sumed that the Minoans overcame this problem by inserting a silent i to create a cosmetic -bi- syllable, so that the word can now be written as vi-si-bi-le, which is a combination of CV syllables. inserting a silent i to create a cosmetic -bi- syllable, so that the word can now be written as vi-si-bi-le, which is a combination of CV syllables.
However, the word invisible remains problematic. Once again it is necessary to insert silent vowels, this time after the n and the b, turning them into CV syllables. Furthermore, it is also necessary to deal with the single vowel i at the beginning of the word: i-ni-vi-si-bi-le. The initial i cannot easily be turned into a CV syllable because inserting a silent consonant at the start of a word could easily lead to confusion. In short, Ventris concluded that there must be Linear B signs that represent single vowels, to be used in words that begin with a vowel. These signs should be easy to spot because they would appear only at the beginning of words. Ventris worked out how often each sign appears at the beginning, middle and end of any word. He observed that two particular signs, 08 and 61, were predominantly found at the beginning of words, and concluded that they did not represent syllables, but single vowels. and end of any word. He observed that two particular signs, 08 and 61, were predominantly found at the beginning of words, and concluded that they did not represent syllables, but single vowels.
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Figure 60 Michael Ventris. ( Michael Ventris. (photo credit 5.6) Ventris published his ideas about vowel signs, and his extensions to the grid, in a series of Work Notes, which he sent out to other Linear B researchers. On June 1, 1952, he published his most significant result, Work Note 20, a turning point in the decipherment of Linear B. He had spent the last two years expanding Kober's grid into the version shown in Table 22 Table 22. The grid consisted of 5 vowel columns and 15 consonant rows, giving 75 cells in total, with 5 additional cells available for single vowels. Ventris had inserted signs in about half the cells. The grid is a treasure trove of information. For example, from the sixth row it is possible to tell that the syllabic signs 37, 05 and 69 share the same consonant, VI, but contain different vowels, 1, 2 and 4. Ventris had no idea of the exact values of consonant VI or vowels 1, 2 and 4, and until this point he had resisted the temptation of a.s.signing sound values to any of the signs. However, he felt that it was now time to follow some hunches, guess a few sound values and examine the consequences. that the syllabic signs 37, 05 and 69 share the same consonant, VI, but contain different vowels, 1, 2 and 4. Ventris had no idea of the exact values of consonant VI or vowels 1, 2 and 4, and until this point he had resisted the temptation of a.s.signing sound values to any of the signs. However, he felt that it was now time to follow some hunches, guess a few sound values and examine the consequences.
Table 22 Ventris's expanded grid for relations.h.i.+ps between Linear B characters. Although the grid doesn't specify vowels or consonants, it does highlight which characters share common vowels and consonants. For example, all the characters in the first column share the same vowel, labeled 1. Ventris's expanded grid for relations.h.i.+ps between Linear B characters. Although the grid doesn't specify vowels or consonants, it does highlight which characters share common vowels and consonants. For example, all the characters in the first column share the same vowel, labeled 1.
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Ventris had noticed three words that appeared over and over again on several of the Linear B tablets: 08-73-30-12, 70-52-12 and 69-53-12. Based on nothing more than intuition, he conjectured that these words might be the names of important towns. Ventris had already speculated that sign 08 was a vowel, and therefore the name of the first town had to begin with a vowel. The only significant name that fitted the bill was Amnisos, an important harbor town. If he was right, then the second and third signs, 73 and 30, would represent -mi- and -ni-. These two syllables both contain the same vowel, i, so numbers 73 and 30 ought to appear in the same vowel column of the grid. They do. The final sign, 12, would represent -so-, leaving nothing to represent the final s. Ventris decided to ignore the problem of the missing final s for the time being, and proceeded with the following working translation: Town 1 = 08-73-30-12 = a-mi-ni-so = Amnisos This was only a guess, but the repercussions on Ventris's grid were enormous. For example, the sign 12, which seems to represent -so-, is in the second vowel column and the seventh consonant row. Hence, if his guess was correct, then all the other syllabic signs in the second vowel column would contain the vowel o, and all the other syllabic signs in the seventh consonant row would contain the consonant s.
When Ventris examined the second town, he noticed that it also contained sign 12, -so-. The other two signs, 70 and 52, were in the same vowel column as -so-, which implied that these signs also contained the vowel o. For the second town he could insert the -so-, the o where appropriate, and leave gaps for the missing consonants, leading to the following: Town 2 = 70-52-12 = ?o-?o-so = ?
Could this be Knossos? The signs could represent ko-no-so. Once again, Ventris was happy to ignore the problem of the missing final s, at least for the time being. He was pleased to note that sign 52, which supposedly represented -no-, was in the same consonant row as sign 30, which supposedly represented -ni- in Amnisos. This was rea.s.suring, because if they contain the same consonant, n, then they should indeed be in the same consonant row. Using the syllabic information from Knossos and Amnisos, he inserted the following letters into the third town: the time being. He was pleased to note that sign 52, which supposedly represented -no-, was in the same consonant row as sign 30, which supposedly represented -ni- in Amnisos. This was rea.s.suring, because if they contain the same consonant, n, then they should indeed be in the same consonant row. Using the syllabic information from Knossos and Amnisos, he inserted the following letters into the third town: Town 3 = 69-53-12 = ??-?i-so The only name that seemed to fit was Tulissos (tu-li-so), an important town in central Crete. Once again the final s was missing, and once again Ventris ignored the problem. He had now tentatively identified three place names and the sound values of eight different signs:
Town 1 = 08-73-30-12 = a-mi-ni-so = a-mi-ni-so = Amnisos = Amnisos Town 2= 70-52-12 = ko-no-so = ko-no-so = Knossos = Knossos Town 3 = 69-53-12 = tu-li-so = tu-li-so = Tulissos = Tulissos
The repercussions of identifying eight signs were enormous. Ventris could infer consonant or vowel values to many of the other signs in the grid, if they were in the same row or column. The result was that many signs revealed part of their syllabic meaning, and a few could be fully identified. For example, sign 05 is in the same column as 12 (so), 52 (no) and 70 (ko), and so must contain o as its vowel. By a similar process of reasoning, sign 05 is in the same row as sign 69 (tu), and so must contain t as its consonant. In short, the sign 05 represents the syllable -to-. Turning to sign 31, it is in the same column as sign 08, the a column, and it is in the same row as sign 12, the s row. Hence sign 31 represents the syllable -sa-.
Deducing the syllabic values of these two signs, 05 and 31, was particularly important because it allowed Ventris to read two complete words, 05-12 and 05-31, which often appeared at the bottom of inventories. Ventris already knew that sign 12 represented the syllable -so-, because this sign appeared in the word for Tulissos, and hence 05-12 could be read as to-so. And the other word, 05-31, could be read as to-sa. This was an astonis.h.i.+ng result. Because these words were found at the bottom of inventories, experts had suspected that they meant "total." Ventris now read them as toso and tosa, uncannily similar to the archaic Greek tossos tossos and and tossa tossa, masculine and feminine forms meaning "so much." Ever since he was fourteen years old, from the moment he had heard Sir Arthur Evans's talk, he had believed that the language of the Minoans could not be Greek. Now, he was uncovering words which were clear evidence in favor of Greek as the language of Linear B. he was fourteen years old, from the moment he had heard Sir Arthur Evans's talk, he had believed that the language of the Minoans could not be Greek. Now, he was uncovering words which were clear evidence in favor of Greek as the language of Linear B.
It was the ancient Cypriot script that provided some of the earliest evidence against Linear B being Greek, because it suggested that Linear B words rarely end in s, whereas this is a very common ending for Greek words. Ventris had discovered that Linear B words do, indeed, rarely end in s, but perhaps this was simply because the s was omitted as part of some writing convention. Amnisos, Knossos, Tulissos and tossos tossos were all spelled without a final s, indicating that the scribes simply did not bother with the final s, allowing the reader to fill in the obvious omission. were all spelled without a final s, indicating that the scribes simply did not bother with the final s, allowing the reader to fill in the obvious omission.
Ventris soon deciphered a handful of other words, which also bore a resemblance to Greek, but he was still not absolutely convinced that Linear B was a Greek script. In theory, the few words that he had deciphered could all be dismissed as imports into the Minoan language. A foreigner arriving at a British hotel might overhear such words as "rendezvous" or "bon appet.i.t," but would be wrong to a.s.sume that the British speak French. Furthermore, Ventris came across words that made no sense to him, providing some evidence in favor of a hitherto unknown language. In Work Note 20 he did not ignore the Greek hypothesis, but he did label it "a frivolous digression." He concluded: "If pursued, I suspect that this line of decipherment would sooner or later come to an impa.s.se, or dissipate itself in absurdities."
Despite his misgivings, Ventris did pursue the Greek line of attack. While Work Note 20 was still being distributed, he began to discover more Greek words. He could identify poimen poimen (shepherd), (shepherd), kerameus kerameus (potter), (potter), khrusoworgos khrusoworgos (goldsmith) and (goldsmith) and khalkeus khalkeus (bronzesmith), and he even translated a couple of complete phrases. So far, none of the threatened absurdities blocked his path. For the first time in three thousand years, the silent script of Linear B was whispering once again, and the language it spoke was undoubtedly Greek. (bronzesmith), and he even translated a couple of complete phrases. So far, none of the threatened absurdities blocked his path. For the first time in three thousand years, the silent script of Linear B was whispering once again, and the language it spoke was undoubtedly Greek.
During this period of rapid progress, Ventris was coincidentally asked to appear on BBC radio to discuss the mystery of the Minoan scripts. He decided that this would be an ideal opportunity to go public with his discovery. After a rather prosaic discussion of Minoan history and Linear B, he made his revolutionary announcement: "During the last few weeks, I have come to the conclusion that the Knossos and Pylos tablets must, after all, be written in Greek-a difficult and archaic Greek, seeing that it is five hundred years older than Homer and written in a rather abbreviated form, but Greek nevertheless." One of the listeners was John Chadwick, a Cambridge researcher who had been interested in the decipherment of Linear B since the 1930s. During the war he had spent time as a crypta.n.a.lyst in Alexandria, where he broke Italian ciphers, before moving to Bletchley Park, where he attacked j.a.panese ciphers. After the war he tried once again to decipher Linear B, this time employing the he made his revolutionary announcement: "During the last few weeks, I have come to the conclusion that the Knossos and Pylos tablets must, after all, be written in Greek-a difficult and archaic Greek, seeing that it is five hundred years older than Homer and written in a rather abbreviated form, but Greek nevertheless." One of the listeners was John Chadwick, a Cambridge researcher who had been interested in the decipherment of Linear B since the 1930s. During the war he had spent time as a crypta.n.a.lyst in Alexandria, where he broke Italian ciphers, before moving to Bletchley Park, where he attacked j.a.panese ciphers. After the war he tried once again to decipher Linear B, this time employing the techniques he had learned while working on military codes. Unfortunately, he had little success. techniques he had learned while working on military codes. Unfortunately, he had little success.
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Figure 61 John Chadwick. ( John Chadwick. (photo credit 5.7) When he heard the radio interview, he was completely taken aback by Ventris's apparently preposterous claim. Chadwick, along with the majority of scholars listening to the broadcast, dismissed the claim as the work of an amateur-which indeed it was. However, as a lecturer in Greek, Chadwick realized that he would be pelted with questions regarding Ventris's claim, and to prepare for the barrage he decided to investigate Ventris's argument in detail. He obtained copies of Ventris's Work Notes, and examined them, fully expecting them to be full of holes. However, within a few days the skeptical scholar became one of the first supporters of Ventris's Greek theory of Linear B. Chadwick soon came to admire the young architect: His brain worked with astonis.h.i.+ng rapidity, so that he could think out all the implications of a suggestion almost before it was out of your mouth. He had a keen appreciation of the realities of the situation; the Mycenaeans were to him no vague abstractions, but living people whose thoughts he could penetrate. He himself laid stress on the visual approach to the problem; he made himself so familiar with the visual aspect of the texts that large sections were imprinted on his mind simply as visual patterns, long before the decipherment gave them meaning. But a merely photographic memory was not enough, and it was here that his architectural training came to his aid. The architect's eye sees in a building not a mere facade, a jumble of ornamental and structural features: it looks beneath the appearance and distinguishes the significant parts of the pattern, the structural elements and framework of the building. So too Ventris was able to discern among the bewildering variety of the mysterious signs, patterns and regularities which betrayed the underlying structure. It is this quality, the power of seeing order in apparent confusion, that has marked the work of all great men.
However, Ventris lacked one particular expertise, namely a thorough knowledge of archaic Greek. Ventris's only formal education in Greek was as a boy at Stowe School, so he could not fully exploit his breakthrough. For example, he was unable to explain some of the deciphered words because they were not part of his Greek vocabulary. Chadwick's speciality was Greek philology, the study of the historical evolution of the Greek language, and he was therefore well equipped to show that these problematic words fitted in with theories of the most ancient forms of Greek. Together, Chadwick and Ventris formed a perfect partners.h.i.+p. words fitted in with theories of the most ancient forms of Greek. Together, Chadwick and Ventris formed a perfect partners.h.i.+p.
The Greek of Homer is three thousand years old, but the Greek of Linear B is five hundred years older still. In order to translate it, Chadwick needed to extrapolate back from the established ancient Greek to the words of Linear B, taking into account the three ways in which language develops. First, p.r.o.nunciation evolves with time. For example, the Greek word for "bath-pourers" changes from lewotrokhowoi lewotrokhowoi in Linear B to in Linear B to loutrokhooi loutrokhooi by the time of Homer. Second, there are changes in grammar. For example, in Linear B the genitive ending is by the time of Homer. Second, there are changes in grammar. For example, in Linear B the genitive ending is -oio -oio, but this is replaced in cla.s.sical Greek by -ou -ou. Finally, the lexicon can change dramatically. Some words are born, some die, others change their meaning. In Linear B harmo harmo means "wheel," but in later Greek the same word means "chariot." Chadwick pointed out that this is similar to the use of "wheels" to mean a car in modern English. means "wheel," but in later Greek the same word means "chariot." Chadwick pointed out that this is similar to the use of "wheels" to mean a car in modern English.
With Ventris's deciphering skills and Chadwick's expertise in Greek, the duo went on to convince the rest of the world that Linear B is indeed Greek. The rate of translation accelerated as each day pa.s.sed. In Chadwick's account of their work, The Decipherment of Linear B The Decipherment of Linear B, he writes: Cryptography is a science of deduction and controlled experiment; hypotheses are formed, tested and often discarded. But the residue which pa.s.ses the test grows until finally there comes a point when the experimenter feels solid ground beneath his feet: his hypotheses cohere, and fragments of sense emerge from their camouflage. The code "breaks." Perhaps this is best defined as the point when the likely leads appear faster than they can be followed up. It is like the initiation of a chain reaction in atomic physics; once the critical threshold is pa.s.sed, the reaction propagates itself.
It was not long before they were able to demonstrate their mastery of the script by writing short notes to each other in Linear B.
An informal test for the accuracy of a decipherment is the number of G.o.ds in the text. In the past, those who were on the wrong track would, not surprisingly, generate nonsensical words, which would be explained away as being the names of hitherto unknown deities. However, Chadwick and Ventris claimed only four divine names, all of which were well-established G.o.ds.
In 1953, confident of their a.n.a.lysis, they wrote up their work in a paper, modestly ent.i.tled "Evidence for Greek Dialect in the Mycenaean Archives," which was published in modestly ent.i.tled "Evidence for Greek Dialect in the Mycenaean Archives," which was published in The Journal of h.e.l.lenic Studies The Journal of h.e.l.lenic Studies. Thereafter, archaeologists around the world began to realize that they were witnessing a revolution. In a letter to Ventris, the German scholar Ernst Sittig summarized the mood of the academic community: "I repeat: your demonstrations are cryptographically the most interesting I have yet heard of, and are really fascinating. If you are right, the methods of the archaeology, ethnology, history and philology of the last fifty years are reduced ad absurdum." ad absurdum."
The Linear B tablets contradicted almost everything that had been claimed by Sir Arthur Evans and his generation. First of all was the simple fact that Linear B was Greek. Second, if the Minoans on Crete wrote Greek and presumably spoke Greek, this would force archaeologists to reconsider their views of Minoan history. It now seemed that the dominant force in the region was Mycenae, and Minoan Crete was a lesser state whose people spoke the language of their more powerful neighbors. However, there is evidence that, before 1450 B.C B.C., Minoa was a truly independent state with its own language. It was in around 1450 B.C B.C. that Linear B replaced Linear A, and although the two scripts look very similar, n.o.body has yet deciphered Linear A. Linear A therefore probably represents a distinctly different language from Linear B. It seems likely that in roughly 1450 B.C B.C. the Mycenaeans conquered the Minoans, imposed their own language, and transformed Linear A into Linear B so that it functioned as a script for Greek.
As well as clarifying the broad historical picture, the decipherment of Linear B also fills in some detail. For example, excavations at Pylos have failed to uncover any precious objects in the lavish palace, which was ultimately destroyed by fire. This has led to the suspicion that the palace was deliberately torched by invaders, who first stripped it of valuables. Although the Linear B tablets at Pylos do not specifically describe such an attack, they do hint at preparations for an invasion. One tablet describes the setting up of a special military unit to protect the coast, while another describes the commandeering of bronze ornaments for converting into spearheads. A third tablet, untidier than the other two, describes a particularly elaborate temple ritual, possibly involving human sacrifice. Most Linear B tablets are neatly laid out, implying that scribes would begin with a rough draft which would later be destroyed. The untidy tablet has large gaps, half-empty lines and text that spills over to the other side. One possible explanation is that the tablet recorded a bid to invoke divine intervention in the face of an invasion, but before the tablet could be redrafted the palace was overrun. large gaps, half-empty lines and text that spills over to the other side. One possible explanation is that the tablet recorded a bid to invoke divine intervention in the face of an invasion, but before the tablet could be redrafted the palace was overrun.
Table 23 Linear B signs with their numbers and sound values. Linear B signs with their numbers and sound values.
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The bulk of Linear B tablets are inventories, and as such they describe everyday transactions. They indicate the existence of a bureaucracy to rival any in history, with tablets recording details of manufactured goods and agricultural produce. Chadwick likened the archive of tablets to the Domesday Book, and Professor Denys Page described the level of detail thus: "Sheep may be counted up to a glittering total of twenty-five thousand; but there is still purpose to be served by recording the fact that one one animal was contributed by Komawens...One would suppose that not a seed could be sown, not a gram of bronze worked, not a cloth woven, not a goat reared or a hog fattened, without the filling of a form in the Royal Palace." These palace records might seem mundane, but they are inherently romantic because they are so intimately a.s.sociated with the animal was contributed by Komawens...One would suppose that not a seed could be sown, not a gram of bronze worked, not a cloth woven, not a goat reared or a hog fattened, without the filling of a form in the Royal Palace." These palace records might seem mundane, but they are inherently romantic because they are so intimately a.s.sociated with the Odyssey Odyssey and and Iliad Iliad. While scribes in Knossos and Pylos recorded their daily transactions, the Trojan War was being fought. The language of Linear B is the language of Odysseus.
On June 24, 1953, Ventris gave a public lecture outlining the decipherment of Linear B. The following day it was reported in The Times The Times, next to a comment on the recent conquest of Everest. This led to Ventris and Chadwick's achievement being known as the "Everest of Greek Archaeology." The following year, the men decided to write an authoritative three-volume account of their work which would include a description of the decipherment, a detailed a.n.a.lysis of three hundred tablets, a dictionary of 630 Mycenaean words and a list of sound values for nearly all Linear B signs, as given in Table 23 Table 23. Doc.u.ments in Mycenaean Greek Doc.u.ments in Mycenaean Greek was completed in the summer of 1955, and was ready for publication in the autumn of 1956. However, a few weeks before printing, on September 6, 1956, Michael Ventris was killed. While driving home late at night on the Great North Road near Hatfield, his car collided with a truck. John Chadwick paid tribute to his colleague, a man who matched the genius of Champollion, and who also died at a tragically young age: "The work he did lives, and his name will be remembered so long as the ancient Greek language and civilization are studied." was completed in the summer of 1955, and was ready for publication in the autumn of 1956. However, a few weeks before printing, on September 6, 1956, Michael Ventris was killed. While driving home late at night on the Great North Road near Hatfield, his car collided with a truck. John Chadwick paid tribute to his colleague, a man who matched the genius of Champollion, and who also died at a tragically young age: "The work he did lives, and his name will be remembered so long as the ancient Greek language and civilization are studied."
6 Alice and Bob Go Public
During the Second World War, British codebreakers had the upper hand over German codemakers, mainly because the men and women at Bletchley Park, following the lead of the Poles, developed some of the earliest codebreaking technology. In addition to Turing's bombes, which were used to crack the Enigma cipher, the British also invented another codebreaking device, Colossus, to combat an even stronger form of encryption, namely the German Lorenz cipher. Of the two types of codebreaking machine, it was Colossus that would determine the development of cryptography during the latter half of the twentieth century.
The Lorenz cipher was used to encrypt communications between Hitler and his generals. The encryption was performed by the Lorenz SZ40 machine, which operated in a similar way to the Enigma machine, but the Lorenz was far more complicated, and it provided the Bletchley codebreakers with an even greater challenge. However, two of Bletchley's codebreakers, John Tiltman and Bill Tutte, discovered a weakness in the way that the Lorenz cipher was used, a flaw that Bletchley could exploit and thereby read Hitler's messages.
Breaking the Lorenz cipher required a mixture of searching, matching, statistical a.n.a.lysis and careful judgment, all of which was beyond the technical abilities of the bombes. The bombes were able to carry out a specific task at high speed, but they were not flexible enough to deal with the subtleties of Lorenz. Lorenz-encrypted messages had to be broken by hand, which took weeks of painstaking effort, by which time the messages were largely out of date. Eventually, Max Newman, a Bletchley mathematician, came up with a way to mechanize the crypta.n.a.lysis of the Lorenz cipher. Drawing heavily on Alan Turing's concept of the universal machine, Newman designed a machine that was capable of adapting itself to different problems, what we today would call a programmable computer. Newman designed a machine that was capable of adapting itself to different problems, what we today would call a programmable computer.
Implementing Newman's design was deemed technically impossible, so Bletchley's senior officials shelved the project. Fortunately, Tommy Flowers, an engineer who had taken part in discussions about Newman's design, decided to ignore Bletchley's skepticism, and went ahead with building the machine. At the Post Office's research center at Dollis Hill, North London, Flowers took Newman's blueprint and spent ten months turning it into the Colossus machine, which he delivered to Bletchley Park on December 8, 1943. It consisted of 1,500 electronic valves, which were considerably faster than the sluggish electromechanical relay switches used in the bombes. But more important than Colossus's speed was the fact that it was programmable. It was this fact that made Colossus the precursor to the modern digital computer.
Colossus, as with everything else at Bletchley Park, was destroyed after the war, and those who worked on it were forbidden to talk about it. When Tommy Flowers was ordered to dispose of the Colossus blueprints, he obediently took them down to the boiler room and burned them. The plans for the world's first computer were lost forever. This secrecy meant that other scientists gained the credit for the invention of the computer. In 1945, J. Presper Eckert and John W. Mauchly of the University of Pennsylvania completed ENIAC (Electronic Numerical Integrator And Calculator), consisting of 18,000 electronic valves, capable of performing 5,000 calculations per second. For decades, ENIAC, not Colossus, was considered the mother of all computers.
Having contributed to the birth of the modern computer, crypta.n.a.lysts continued after the war to develop and employ computer technology in order to break all sorts of ciphers. They could now exploit the speed and flexibility of programmable computers to search through all possible keys until the correct one was found. In due course, the cryptographers began to fight back, exploiting the power of computers to create increasingly complex ciphers. In short, the computer played a crucial role in the postwar battle between codemakers and codebreakers.
Using a computer to encipher a message is, to a large extent, very similar to traditional forms of encryption. Indeed, there are only three significant differences between computer encryption and the sort of mechanical encryption that was the basis for ciphers like Enigma. The first difference is that a mechanical cipher machine is limited by what can be practically built, whereas a computer can mimic a hypothetical cipher machine of immense complexity. For example, a computer could be programmed to mimic the action of a hundred scramblers, some spinning clockwise, some anticlockwise, some vanis.h.i.+ng after every tenth letter, others rotating faster and faster as encryption progresses. Such a mechanical machine would be practically impossible to build, but its "virtual" computerized equivalent would deliver a highly secure cipher. mechanical encryption that was the basis for ciphers like Enigma. The first difference is that a mechanical cipher machine is limited by what can be practically built, whereas a computer can mimic a hypothetical cipher machine of immense complexity. For example, a computer could be programmed to mimic the action of a hundred scramblers, some spinning clockwise, some anticlockwise, some vanis.h.i.+ng after every tenth letter, others rotating faster and faster as encryption progresses. Such a mechanical machine would be practically impossible to build, but its "virtual" computerized equivalent would deliver a highly secure cipher.
The second difference is simply a matter of speed. Electronics can operate far more quickly than mechanical scramblers: a computer programmed to mimic the Enigma cipher could encipher a lengthy message in an instant. Alternatively, a computer programmed to perform a vastly more complex form of encryption could still accomplish the task within a reasonable time.
The third, and perhaps most significant, difference is that a computer scrambles numbers rather than letters of the alphabet. Computers deal only in binary numbers-sequences of ones and zeros known as binary digits binary digits, or bits bits for short. Before encryption, any message must therefore be converted into binary digits. This conversion can be performed according to various protocols, such as the American Standard Code for Information Interchange, known familiarly by the acronym ASCII, p.r.o.nounced "a.s.skey." ASCII a.s.signs a 7-digit binary number to each letter of the alphabet. For the time being, it is sufficient to think of a binary number as merely a pattern of ones and zeros that uniquely identifies each letter ( for short. Before encryption, any message must therefore be converted into binary digits. This conversion can be performed according to various protocols, such as the American Standard Code for Information Interchange, known familiarly by the acronym ASCII, p.r.o.nounced "a.s.skey." ASCII a.s.signs a 7-digit binary number to each letter of the alphabet. For the time being, it is sufficient to think of a binary number as merely a pattern of ones and zeros that uniquely identifies each letter (Table 24), just as Morse code identifies each letter with a unique series of dots and dashes. There are 128 (27) ways to arrange a combination of 7 binary digits, so ASCII can identify up to 128 distinct characters. This allows plenty of room to define all the lowercase letters (e.g., a = 1100001), all necessary punctuation (e.g., ! = 0100001), as well as other symbols (e.g., & = 0100110). Once the message has been converted into binary, encryption can begin.
Even though we are dealing with computers and numbers, and not machines and letters, the encryption still proceeds by the age-old principles of subst.i.tution and transposition, in which elements of the message are subst.i.tuted for other elements, or their positions are switched, or both. Every encipherment, no matter how complex, can be broken down into combinations of these simple operations. The following two examples demonstrate the essential simplicity of computer encipherment by showing how a computer might perform an elementary subst.i.tution cipher and an elementary transposition cipher. combinations of these simple operations. The following two examples demonstrate the essential simplicity of computer encipherment by showing how a computer might perform an elementary subst.i.tution cipher and an elementary transposition cipher.
First, imagine that we wish to encrypt the message h.e.l.lO, employing a simple computer version of a transposition cipher. Before encryption can begin, we must translate the message into ASCII according to Table 24 Table 24: [image]
One of the simplest forms of transposition cipher would be to swap the first and second digits, the third and fourth digits, and so on. In this case the final digit would remain unchanged because there are an odd number of digits. In order to see the operation more clearly, I have removed the s.p.a.ces between the ASCII blocks in the original plaintext to generate a single string, and then lined it up against the resulting ciphertext for comparison: [image]
An interesting aspect of transposition at the level of binary digits is that the transposing can happen within the letter. Furthermore, bits of one letter can swap places with bits of the neighboring letter. For example, by swapping the seventh and eighth numbers, the final 0 of H is swapped with the initial 1 of E. The encrypted message is a single string of 35 binary digits, which can be transmitted to the receiver, who then reverses the transposition to re-create the original string of binary digits. Finally, the receiver reinterprets the binary digits via ASCII to regenerate the message h.e.l.lO. the seventh and eighth numbers, the final 0 of H is swapped with the initial 1 of E. The encrypted message is a single string of 35 binary digits, which can be transmitted to the receiver, who then reverses the transposition to re-create the original string of binary digits. Finally, the receiver reinterprets the binary digits via ASCII to regenerate the message h.e.l.lO.
Table 24 ASCII binary numbers for the capital letters. ASCII binary numbers for the capital letters.
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Next, imagine that we wish to encrypt the same message, h.e.l.lO, this time employing a simple computer version of a subst.i.tution cipher. Once again, we begin by converting the message into ASCII before encryption. As usual, subst.i.tution relies on a key that has been agreed between sender and receiver. In this case the key is the word DAVID translated into ASCII, and it is used in the following way. Each element of the plaintext is "added" to the corresponding element of the key. Adding binary digits can be thought of in terms of two simple rules. If the elements in the plaintext and the key are the same, the element in the plaintext is subst.i.tuted for 0 in the ciphertext. But, if the elements in the message and key are different, the element in the plaintext is subst.i.tuted for 1 in the ciphertext: [image]
The resulting encrypted message is a single string of 35 binary digits which can be transmitted to the receiver, who uses the same key to reverse the subst.i.tution, thus recreating the original string of binary digits. Finally, the receiver reinterprets the binary digits via ASCII to regenerate the message h.e.l.lO.
Computer encryption was restricted to those who had computers, which in the early days meant the government and the military. However, a series of scientific, technological and engineering breakthroughs made computers, and computer encryption, far more widely available. In 1947, AT&T Bell Laboratories invented the transistor, a cheap alternative to the electronic valve. Commercial computing became a reality in 1951 when companies such as Ferranti began to make computers to order. In 1953 IBM launched its first computer, and four years later it introduced Fortran, a programming language that allowed "ordinary" people to write computer programs. Then, in 1959, the invention of the integrated circuit heralded a new era of computing. computer programs. Then, in 1959, the invention of the integrated circuit heralded a new era of computing.
During the 1960s, computers became more powerful, and at the same time they became cheaper. Businesses were increasingly able to afford computers, and could use them to encrypt important communications such as money transfers or delicate trade negotiations. However, as more and more businesses bought computers, and as encryption between businesses spread, cryptographers were confronted with new problems, difficulties that had not existed when cryptography was the preserve of governments and the military. One of the primary concerns was the issue of standardization. A company might use a particular encryption system to ensure secure internal communication, but it could not send a secret message to an outside organization unless the receiver used the same system of encryption. Eventually, on May 15, 1973, America's National Bureau of Standards planned to solve the problem, and formally requested proposals for a standard encryption system that would allow business to speak secretly unto business.
One of the more established cipher algorithms, and a candidate for the standard, was an IBM product known as Lucifer. It had been developed by Horst Feistel, a German emigre who had arrived in America in 1934. He was on the verge of becoming a U.S. citizen when America entered the war, which meant that he was placed under house arrest until 1944. For some years after, he suppressed his interest in cryptography to avoid arousing the suspicions of the American authorities. When he did eventually begin research into ciphers, at the Air Force's Cambridge Research Center, he soon found himself in trouble with the National Security Agency (NSA), the organization with overall responsibility for maintaining the security of military and governmental communications, and which also attempts to intercept and decipher foreign communications. The NSA employs more mathematicians, buys more computer hardware, and intercepts more messages than any other organization in the world. It is the world leader when it comes to snooping.
The NSA did not object to Feistel's past, they merely wanted to have a monopoly on cryptographic research, and it seems that they arranged for Feistel's research project to be canceled. In the 1960s Feistel moved to the Mitre Corporation, but the NSA continued to apply pressure and forced him to abandon his work for a second time. Feistel eventually ended up at IBM's Thomas J. Watson Laboratory near New York, where for several years he was able to conduct his research without being hara.s.sed. It was there, during the early 1970s, that he developed the Lucifer system. him to abandon his work for a second time. Feistel eventually ended up at IBM's Thomas J. Watson Laboratory near New York, where for several years he was able to conduct his research without being hara.s.sed. It was there, during the early 1970s, that he developed the Lucifer system.
Lucifer encrypts messages according to the following scrambling operation. First, the message is translated into a long string of binary digits. Second, the string is split into blocks of 64 digits, and encryption is performed separately on each of the blocks. Third, focusing on just one block, the 64 digits are shuffled, and then split into two half-blocks of 32, labeled Left0 and Right and Right0. The digits in Right0 are then put through a "mangler function," which changes the digits according to a complex subst.i.tution. The mangled Right are then put through a "mangler function," which changes the digits according to a complex subst.i.tution. The mangled Right0 is then added to Left is then added to Left0 to create a new halfblock of 32 digits called Right to create a new halfblock of 32 digits called Right1. The original Right0 is relabeled Left is relabeled Left1. This set of operations is called a "round." The whole process is repeated in a second round, but starting with the new half-blocks, Left1 and Right and Right1, and ending with Left2 and Right and Right2. This process is repeated until there have been 16 rounds in total. The encryption process is a bit like kneading a slab of dough. Imagine a long slab of dough with a message written on it. First, the long slab is divided into blocks that are 64 cm in length. Then, one half of one of the blocks is picked up, mangled, folded over, added to the other half and stretched to make a new block. Then the process is repeated over and over again until the message has been thoroughly mixed up. After 16 rounds of kneading the ciphertext is sent, and is then deciphered at the other end by reversing the process.