Robert Fisk’s World: You won't find any lessons in unity in the Dead Sea Scrolls

At last, I have seen the Dead Sea Scrolls. There they were, under their protective, cool-heated screens, the very words penned on to leather and papyrus 2,000 years ago, the world's most significant record of the Old Testament.

I guess you've got to see it to believe it. I can't read Hebrew – let alone ancient Hebrew (or Greek or Aramaic, the other languages of the scrolls) – but some of the letters are familiar to me from Arabic. The "seen" (s) of Arabic, and the "meem" (m) are almost the same as Hebrew and there they were, set down by some ancient who knew, as we do, only the past and nothing of the future. Most of the texts are in the Bible; several are not. "May God most high bless you, may he show you his face and may he open for you," it is written on the parchments. "For he will honour the pious upon the throne of an eternal kingdom."

The story of the discovery of the scrolls is, of course, well known. An Arab Bedouin boy, Mohamed el-Dib, found them at Khirbet Qumran in a cave in what is now the occupied West Bank of Palestine in 1947, and handed them over to a cobbler turned antiquities dealer called Khalil Eskander Shahin in Jerusalem; they eventually ended up in the hands of scholars – mostly American – in the Jordanian side of Jerusalem. Then came the 1967 war and the arrival of the Israeli army in East Jerusalem and... well, you can imagine the rest.

Now, I have to say that I looked at these original texts in the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto, a tale that was bound to engender a whole series of questions, not least of which is Canada's softly-softly approach to anything approaching controversy. At no point in the exhibition, jointly arranged with the professional (and brilliant) assistance of the Israel Antiquities Authority, is there any mention, hem hem, of the West Bank or occupation. Or how the documents found there came to be in the hands of the Israelis.