Saturday, March 21, 2026

Claim that Copernicus knew of Aristarchus

 



“… with some reading and piecing together of some related bits of evidence,

and thinking about context, I’m now completely convinced Copernicus

did know of Aristarchus’s hypothesis, and that he deliberately withheld acknowledgement of the fact”.

cosmiCave.org

 

Taken from: Setting the Record Straight: How Copernicus Concealed His Debt to Aristarchus—and Claimed an Intellectual Priority He Knew Wasn’t His – cosmiCave.org

 

Setting the Record Straight: How Copernicus Concealed His Debt to Aristarchus—and Claimed an Intellectual Priority He Knew Wasn’t His

 

There’s a prevailing myth in the history of science that Copernicus rediscovered heliocentrism independently—and that he had no real connection to Aristarchus, whose own theory was vague, obscure, and uninfluential. This essay dismantles that myth.

 

While researching this previous essay, trying to get all my facts straight with reference to primary sources, I found several interconnected things that are badly misunderstood at the present—things I previously thought were true, but which closer inspection showed to be false.

 

I used to think, as it’s the common consensus, that it was unclear whether Nicolaus Copernicus had known Aristarchus of Samos proposed a heliocentric (Sun-centred) model similar to his in the third century BCE—and that he probably didn’t since he never mentioned it. But with some reading and piecing together of some related bits of evidence, and thinking about context, I’m now completely convinced Copernicus did know of Aristarchus’s hypothesis, and that he deliberately withheld acknowledgement of the fact.

 

Another thing I’ve always understood to be true, which is written all over the place, is that one of the main obstacles that stood against Aristarchus’s theory being accepted in his time was the fact that we don’t see any stellar parallax in nearby stars as Earth orbits the Sun. But this, too, turns out to be an anachronistic myth—and one that’s pretty clear to see when all the relevant information is pulled together. It’s also linked to a lot of inaccuracy related to interpreting Copernicus and Aristarchus, and in a way I think it has indirectly influenced the false consensus that Copernicus likely wasn’t aware of Aristarchus’s hypothesis.

 

Consequently, while this essay’s primary purpose is to explain that Copernicus was, without a doubt, aware of Aristarchus’s heliocentric theory—in fact, he was every bit as aware of its details as anyone today is—it will also clarify some other things that people seem to commonly misunderstand, such as the anachronistic parallax myth.

 

I want to be clear: I’m not claiming Copernicus originally got the heliocentric idea directly from Aristarchus. That is too strong a claim, and I don’t think we can ever know one way or the other. Aristarchus likely became known to Copernicus at some influential point during his studies in Italy, but whether that was before or after Copernicus had thought of the basic concept, and realised for himself that e.g. retrograde motion could be explained through parallax rather than by actual backwards motion as the planets looped around a fixed Earth, we cannot know. It is reasonable to think that Copernicus realised the latter on his own, though he did not keep a detailed diary as he worked through his ideas, so we can’t confirm this.

 

So we can’t know precisely when in his early years Copernicus became aware of Aristarchus, nor how influential the Ancient Greek had been in shaping Copernicus’s theory.

 

In fact, very little is even known of the details of Aristarchus’s model, so it really can’t have been too influential. Copernicus must have come to realise much of what makes the concept so compelling on his own.

 

But still, this does not change the fact that Copernicus did Aristarchus dirty.

 

He knew Aristarchus had proposed a heliocentric theory in the third century BCE. He knew Aristarchus was a serious astronomer, e.g. the first to estimate the Sun’s distance through careful measurement and detailed geometric reasoning. And Copernicus deliberately withheld that information from both Commentariolus and De revolutionibus orbium coelestium—as he was absolutely aware of his predecessor’s theory already when he wrote his early draft.

 

This much is true. And it is also true that Copernicus made this omission so he could claim priority to the idea that the Earth orbits the Sun.

 

While he did not explicitly say this—how could he, as he omitted his knowledge of Aristarchus entirely?—he did so implicitly, by excluding Aristarchus from the broader group of Ancient geokineticists he listed in support of his proposal that the Earth moves, which he followed by explicitly claiming that he had come to the idea that Earth is orbiting the Sun on his own, “by long and intense study.”

 

Leaving Aristarchus out of that sequence worked well rhetorically, as he could cite precedent for the proposal that the Earth spins daily, or that it moves about a central fire in an abstract, metaphorical sense. And from there, Copernicus could frame himself as taking those ideas to the next level with a novel hypothesis that this moving Earth actually orbits the Sun. 

 

The omission of Aristarchus provided a clean and compelling narrative within the opening argument for his life’s work, and it’s understandable that he did it.

 

The alternative would be to frame the whole theory as something that had basically been thought of and explored in Ancient times, and eventually rejected by those who Copernicus and everyone around him thought of as intellectual authorities, leaving him to argue that while they’d eventually abandoned the idea he nevertheless proposed circling back to.

 

This more honest approach would have placed Copernicus at a much greater disadvantage, making him far more easily dismissed on superficial grounds, which he needed to avoid. “Check out my theory! Someone already thought of it 1800 years ago and the astronomers at the time eventually dismissed it as an abstract peculiarity that’s nevertheless absurd. But for the past several decades I’ve worked through the details anyway and I think I can make it work, never minding the absurdity which you’re likely to find insane.”

 

Copernicus actually acknowledged in De revolutionibus, that the idea that Earth was rapidly spinning and orbiting as he proposed seemed “absurd,” “insane,” and “almost against common sense.” To admit this, and to also say that people had nevertheless already considered the hypothesis and discarded it would have considerably heightened his disadvantage.

 

So, instead, he omitted the detail and framed the idea as novel

 

“For a long time, then, I reflected on this confusion in the astronomical traditions concerning the derivation of the motions of the universe’s spheres … having obtained the opportunity from these sources, I too began to consider the mobility of the earth. And even though the idea seemed absurd, nevertheless I knew that others before me had been granted the freedom to imagine any circles whatever for the purpose of explaining the heavenly phenomena.

 

Hence I thought that I too would be readily permitted to ascertain whether explanations sounder than those of my predecessors could be found for the revolution of the celestial spheres on the assumption of some motion of the earth … [and] by long and intense study I finally found that if the motions of the other planets are correlated with the orbiting of the earth …”.

 

So you see: this narrative does not work if Copernicus acknowledges that Aristarchus had actually beaten him to the claim, and that Copernicus was reviving something that had been rejected almost two thousand years ago, by those who had the full original manuscript to work with. Omitting Aristarchus allowed Copernicus to cast himself as the innovator rather than revivalist—to frame heliocentrism as a novel hypothesis rather than a return to an abandoned theory.

 

Copernicus’s source on Aristrarchus’s theory—Archimedes’ Sand-Reckoner—was also not widely known when De revolutionibus was published in 1543. It was first printed (purely coincidentally?) in a Latin edition of Archimedes’ works in 1544. Copernicus was therefore not compelled to cite his source, as his knowledge of the former work was relatively private and not expected.

 

Anyway, the above explains roughly why I think Copernicus cut Aristarchus out.

 

This is my reasoning based on Copernicus’s rhetorical framing of his proposal, and a suspicion that he was not acting purely in bad faith. Not necessarily because he wanted all the glory to himself, though there may have been some of that, but mainly because it would have been a disadvantage to do so.

 

But this essay is not about my own, personal speculative opinion. And I will not go so far as to demonstrate why Copernicus did what he did, nor how large a debt Copernicus owed to Aristarchus nor how much of his realisation about the compelling aspects of heliocentrism was original insight. I don’t think we’ll ever find more direct evidence to help in ascertaining these things.

 

What I will show, as I said above, is that Copernicus clearly, unquestionably did read Archimedes’ Sand-Reckoner sometime before 1514, when he circulated Commentariolus to his friends and colleagues—and that he therefore knew Aristarchus proposed a heliocentric theory before him. That he therefore deliberately withheld the reference in De revolutionibus. And that twentieth century Copernicus historians wrongly concluded he did not.

 

In the process, I’ll also set the record straight on a related point—a common anachronistic reading of the evidence that was held against heliocentrism, both in Ancient times and in Copernicus’s day. The idea that the Ancients cited an apparent asbsence of parallax shift in the nearest stars due to Earth’s hypothesised orbit about the Sun, that they favoured geocentrism in part because of this, and that Copernicus hedged against this criticism, is a complete falsehood that is almost universally accepted at present.

 

This anachronistic parallax argument against heliocentrism was not noted until after Copernicus died—and in fact it was not even applicable to either his theory or Aristarchus’s. The fact that it is commonly thought to have concerned Copernicus and Aristarchus’s contemporaries is unfortunate for several reasons: 

 

  • it represents a fundamental misunderstanding of an Ancient worldview that persisted unchallenged until nearly the end of the sixteenth century, which Copernicus never dreamed of questioning; 
  • it therefore obscures the debt we all owe to one of the most influential innovations in the history of cosmology, to a person (Thomas Digges) whose name is hardly ever even mentioned in the history books—and certainly not as a key player in the Scientific Revolution—who frankly deserves to be celebrated as the father of modern cosmology, finally given his rightful place alongside Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, and Newton;
  • it leads to anachronistic misreadings of both Ptolemy and Copernicus, when we fail to realise the notion of a parallax shift in nearby stars relative to those further away never could have crossed their minds; and,
  • it obscures a key piece of evidence that renders Copernicus’s obvious plagiarism of Archimedes unmistakable, along with the deliberateness of his omission of Aristarchus as his predecessor.

 

It’s an interesting and deeply illuminating historiographic reset, and I hope you enjoy reading. It’s far more than just a detail about intellectual credit. These false narratives that have been propagating for more than a century warp our entire understanding of cosmological progress, Ancient science’s sophistication, and even modern assumptions about scientific reasoning.

 

Given everything I’ve said above, I’ll work through the actual demonstration of claims as follows. I’m going to start with a recap of previous arguments that incorrectly concluded Copernicus was unaware of Aristarchus’s heliocentric theory, clarifying on their own terms how weak and flawed they are. I’ll then explain the anachronistic parallax argument, clarifying why it is an anachronism. With that context, we can then immediately clarify Archimedes’ reference to Aristarchus in the Sand-Reckoner—both, what his concerns were and what they were not. I’ll then also discuss both Ptolemy’s argument in Almagest Book I, Chapter 6 and Copernicus’s argument in De revolutionibus Book I, Chapter 6 (Copernicus deliberately paralleled the structure of Almagest as a rhetorical device in his work, so these chapters are similar), clearly establishing that neither was aware of the anachronistic parallax idea. Thus, we’ll clarify both, that Ptolemy was not arguing against heliocentrism on that ground—in fact, there is no evidence he entertained the heliocentric hypothesis at all in Almagest, as he never addressed it—and that Copernicus was not hedging against the anachronistic parallax argument in De revolutionibus—and again, there’s no evidence he ever even dreamed it was a problem he’d need to guard against—and in fact when we consider his actual worldview it’s clear the problem should never have crossed his mind. 

 

We’ll then loop back to the Sand-Reckoner, specifically focusing on Archimedes’ application of Aristarchus’s theory, what that application says and what it explicitly does not imply about the Ancient reasons it failed to attract a wider following. In my previous essay, I gave three reasons why Aristarchus’s theory faded into obscurity until it was revived by Copernicus, and this diagnosis clarifies that the anachronistic parallax argument was never one of them—that it was never even dreamed of until after 1576, when Digges proposed his radically different cosmological worldview, which we’ve all come to accept implicitly, and tend to project onto earlier thinkers.

 

Finally, having all these pieces in place, this analysis will close with the evidence that Copernicus lifted his fourth proposition in Commentariolus directly from Archimedes—that there is no other explanation for the specific formulation he chose, as he never would have come to that specific formulation on his own, he did not require it, he never made specific use of it, and in the end, in De revolutionibus he reverted to the less specific, mathematically imprecise argument that paralleled Ptolemy’s reasoning in the Almagest.

 

Previous Accounts by Science Historians

 

Copernicus’s Commentariolus was lost for more than 350 years. While he had shared copies privately with several friends and colleagues in 1514, those languished in private libraries. This first articulation of Copernicus’s heliocentric hypothesis was only rediscovered in 1878, by the historian Maximilian Curtze in Vienna. And it was first translated into English by Edward Rosen in 1939.

 

In 1942, Rudolf von Erhardt and Erika von Erhardt-Siebold published a sprawling article in the History of Science journal Isis, closing with a claim about “the almost certain acquaintance of Copernicus with the Sand-Reckoner.” In the article, this claim was buried at the end, and even there it was not well explained: The section is two paragraphs long, the point is made (without proper context) that Copernicus’s fourth postulate in Commentariolus is conspicuously similar in its construction to a passage from the Sand-Reckoner, and then the authors proceed to speculate—incorrectly!—that with this postulate Copernicus may have been guarding against the non-observability of stellar parallax due to Earth’s orbit. ….

 

 

 

In the context of all of this, and regarding the actual historicity of some of these famous astronomers and scientists, see my (Damien Mackey’s) articles:

 

Did the Greeks derive their Archimedes from Sargon II’s Akhimiti?

 

(8) Did the Greeks derive their Archimedes from Sargon II's Akhimiti?

 

Machiavelli in the name Achitophel, Galileo Galilei in the name Gamaliel

 

(8) Machiavelli in the name Achitophel, Galileo Galilei in the name Gamaliel

 

 

Thursday, March 12, 2026

Taking Aramaïc into account, Qur’an reads as Christian text

 



https://youtu.be/oUXxxvcem0g

 

German Scholars reveal Aramaic-Christian hymns embedded in Qur’an

 

Top of Form

Bottom of Form

In the 1970s a German Protestant theologian scholar named Dr Gunther Luling (a Dr. in Arabistics and Islamics and a pioneer in the study of early Islamic origins) wrote his Doctoral thesis on the origins of the Qur’an, where he reconstructed a comprehensive pre-Islamic Christian Hymnal hidden within the Qur’an, taken from 5th-6th century Syriac Christian hymns.

 

His 1970 PhD thesis received the ‘Opus Eximium’ (high distinction) grade, the highest available in Germany, which should have promoted him to professorship anywhere, but in 1972 he was kicked out of his University, for no reason. One German scholar said ‘He was a crack-pot’, possibly because his research was just too new and too explosively controversial.

 

In the 1990s his thesis was translated into English, which gave it a much wider audience, and he was rehabilitated, so that by the time he died in 2014, he had been exonerated.

 

Following Dr Luling’s example another German Arabist and Syriac scholar, Dr Christoph Luxenberg broke new ground on the Qur’an, discovering that much of it came from previous Christian Lectionaries, Homilies, and Hymns, written in Syro-Aramaic, and then interposed into Arabic later on.

 

Like Luling, he was ostracized by the German academic community. As a result, he changed his name and never publicly showed his face, in order not to be identified.

He was curious concerning the 25% of the Qur’an which even the scholars don’t understand, known as the “Dark Passages”, and so decided to apply Luling’s methodology, using his own 7-step process of peeling back the layers of the Arabic to find what the text originally said.

 

Here is his 7-step process:

 

1) He checked al-Tabari’s 10th century Tafsir (commentary) for an Arabic meaning for the words in question.

2) He then checked the 13th century Lisān al-ʿArab (Tongue of Arabs = Arabic Dictionary) which was compiled by Ibn Manzur (in 1290) for dictionary meanings of those words.

3) He looked to see if there were homonymous (synonymous) roots in the Aramaic, even perhaps with a different meaning.

4) He then tried different diacritics (the 5 dots above and below each of the letters in Arabic) to see if he could fine other alternatives.

5) He finally went to the Aramaic language to find an Aramaic root using different Aramaic diacritics (dots similar to those in Arabic).

6) Upon trying the different diacritics, he then re-translated the Arabic words back into the Aramaic using the semantics of the Syro-Aramaic word.

7) And finally he tried to find the lost meanings of Arab words using 10th century Syro-Aramaic lexicons.

 

After employing these 7-step he was able to reproduce the 25% “Dark Passages” and noticed that they were simply Aramaic Christian Lectionaries, Homilies, and Hymns written by Christian priests in the 4th – 6th centuries in worship to JESUS!

 

So, his exercise had nothing to do with ‘what he found’, but ‘who he found’!

 

What can we conclude?

 

•The Qur’an is a mixture of Arabic and Aramaic words, originally written in Aramaic script, later transcribed into the Arabic script.

•When taking Aramaic into account, the Qur’an can be fully understood as a Christian text.

•During the 9th & 10th centuries (according to the Germans), diacritics/vowels were added and the reading was therefore fixed (scriptio plena).

•The present Qur’an is an interpretative act by Muslim Arabs (no longer Christians) who decided where the dots and vowels would go.

•Thus, the Qur’an was changed, and claims that an oral tradition ensures the correct reading are patently false.

 

Here then is a possible time line, including 5 periods of Textual evolution:

 

·7th century = Aramaic texts were transposed into Arabic, though few of the compilers knew Aramaic well.

·8th – 9th centuries = Arabic manuscripts began to appear, but without diacritics or vowels, making it difficult to read.

·8th – 10th centuries = Qira’at & Ahruf copies were compiled (736 – 905 AD) by over 700 different men put their dots/vowels wherever they chose, and then gave their name to their Qur’anic text.

·10th – 15th centuries = 7 Qira’ats (chosen by Ibn Mujahid in 936 AD), then 14 (chosen by al Shatabi in 1194 AD), then 9 ‘Readings’ (chosen by al Jaziri in 1429 AD) were designated the 30 official Qira’at Qur’ans, with over 93,000 differences between them.

 

As different geographical groups memorized their Qur’an, they followed the Qira’at of their choice, which created problems.

 

·20th century = So, in 1924 the final and singular ‘Hafs’ Qur’an was chosen, first for Cairo, then in 1936 for Egypt, and then for the whole world in 1985.

 

So, Muslims began with 1 Qur’an, which became 7, then 21, then 30, and finally back to 1 again. Yet, they still claim that there has always been only 1 Qur’an, without one letter or one word different.