PROTOCOL XIX

In Kunkel’s debut series starter, Gaius Pontius Pilate fakes Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection as part of a political conspiracy.

In this alternate version of well-known biblical events, Pilate is mired in a dreary job as the governor of Judea, “stuck out here at the edges of the empire in a rebellious province.” His wife, Claudia, detests the post, and after three miscarriages, she’s taken to looking for solace in insobriety; it provides her with her only relief from the despair into which she has sunk. Pilate has difficult relationships with members of Judea’s Jewish community—especially Caiaphas, the High Priest of the Sanhedrin, who conspires to ruin his reputation with Emperor Tiberius and incites riots among volatile insurgents. When Caiaphas demands that Jesus, an increasingly popular preacher, be arrested and executed for treason—apparently, Jesus claims to be the King of the Jews—Pilate sees an opportunity to gain the upper hand in their contest for power. He invokes Protocol XIX, which permits him to “substitute an innocent person for one who deserves punishment,” effectively giving him the power to execute someone else and pretend the victim is Jesus. Pilate chooses Barabbas, “one of the more notorious rebels in the region,” and hides Jesus away. He also arranges the appearance of Jesus’ resurrection, using it as a chance to humiliate Caiaphas in a tantalizingly original reinterpretation of the New Testament story. Meanwhile, Marcus and Cato, two soldiers, investigate a peculiar plot against King Herod Antipas that seems motivated by revenge for his past criminal transgressions.

Kunkel’s novel offers readers a version of biblical lore that combines a boldly heretical view—that Jesus’ resurrection was faked—with one that’s far more orthodox: that Jesus was capable of working great miracles, including raising Lazarus from the dead and healing the sick. Other characters, too, see in him something truly special, if not outrightly divine: “His humanity may have given him all the doubts and questions of your typical person but something else dwelt inside of him.” In addition, the author astutely broaches Jesus’ reluctance to partake in Pilate’s designs as well as his disappointment; he’s depicted as understanding his death to be a matter of prophecy and his resurrection as final proof of his mission. Quintus, a tribune, attempts to console him: “I don’t know what these visions are you’re talking about. Here’s what I see. Your religion abandoned you. Your followers betrayed you. But Rome has not abandoned you, my friend.” Over the course of the novel, Jesus emerges as grippingly mysterious but also endearingly human—a spiritually gifted man beset by doubt about his greater purpose. Kunkel’s command of the historical period is impressive, and he fills in some blanks—for example, very little is known for certain about Pilate’s life—with an impressive combination of imaginative hypothesis and dramatic artfulness. In the end, the author delivers a work that isn’t a dry scholarly exercise but an engaging novelistic look into unconsidered possibilities.

A captivating blend of historical conjecture and literary contrivance.