THE ALTAR OF PERGAMON: Conflicting Visions of Two Books Sharing the Same Title

“To the angel of the church in Pergamum write: …I know where you live—where Satan has his throne” (Rev. 2:12-13).

In preparation for a recent visit to Pergamon (Turkey), I read two books with the same title that appeared in 2026: The Altar of Pergamon. The one, a historical fiction in the mold of The Da Vinci Code, is by Rabbi Jonathan Cahn; the other, a serious work of non-fiction, is by Elias M. Westmere.

Cahn's main thesis is this: the Altar of Pergamon, built in the second century BC by the Attalids in what is now Bergama, Turkey, likely in honor of Zeus and Athena, and referred to in Revelation 2:13 as the place "where Satan has his throne," has been spiritually connected to power and evil throughout history.

Some of the key events in Cahn's narrative run as follows. First, the hidden ruins of the altar were discovered in 1871 by a German engineer, the same year the German Empire was founded. Second, excavations began in 1878, during the period when organized antisemitic political movements were beginning to emerge in Germany. Of course, these developments would eventually culminate in the Holocaust under the Nazi regime of the 1930s and 1940s.

Third, after the altar's pieces were legally transferred to Germany, a reconstructed version was on display by 1901. This means reconstruction work must have begun earlier. Although I have found no evidence establishing 1888, the year Hitler was conceived, as the year reconstruction commenced, as Cahn suggests, it remains possible given the timeline.

Fourth, the new Pergamon Museum opened in Berlin on October 2, 1930, the same year the Nazi Party emerged as a major force in German politics. That date also fell on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement in the Jewish calendar. Cahn argues that Satan inverted the New Testament meaning of atonement, namely, God sacrificing His own Son, by eventually sacrificing the Jewish people through Hitler and the Nazi regime.

Perhaps the most striking visual connection in his case is Hitler's reviewing stand at the Nazi rallies in Nuremberg during the mid-1930s. The massive structure from which Hitler addressed the crowds was modeled on the Altar of Pergamon. At one point an angel tells the novel's protagonist, "Hitler's platform was the Throne of Satan."

Based on these and other historical correspondences, including the removal of the altar to Russia in 1945, the same year the Soviet Union emerged from World War II as a global superpower, Cahn argues that the altar has continued to influence world events and will continue to "alter the course of the world," perhaps even playing a role in the end times.

To this, Westmere responds: "The concern is not simply that a building contains invisible energy." The issue is whether an object itself can contain "a transferable force." Perhaps with views such as Cahn's in mind, he observes, "A claim that [Satan's throne] moved from Pergamon to Berlin with the marble is not documented." He warns that such theories can lead people to fear objects and buildings as though they possess automatic spiritual power. Instead, he argues that, among several possible interpretations, "Satan's throne" may refer to the political and religious power concentrated in Pergamon, particularly emperor worship and the pagan systems that dominated civic and economic life in the first century. Whether one agrees with Westmere or not, his interpretation deserves careful consideration.

What should we make of Cahn's claims? They are certainly fascinating. The historical parallels are numerous and, at times, striking. Yet the question remains whether these connections demonstrate causation or merely chronology. Certainly, the cumulative effect of such correspondences makes them difficult to dismiss out of hand. At some point, one can understand why Cahn sees what he sees.

One question raised by Westmere deserves special attention: Can spiritual power be attached to physical objects? His answer is both yes and no. Scripture does describe extraordinary cases in which physical objects are associated with God's power. The Ark of the Covenant, for instance, brought devastation upon the Philistines after they captured it from Israel (1 Sam. 5). Elisha's bones raised the dead (2 Kings 13:21), and handkerchiefs and aprons associated with Paul were used in healing (Acts 19:12). Yet none of these examples leads Westmere to conclude that the Altar of Pergamon carried a transferable spiritual force from Turkey to Germany.

If I were trying to strengthen Cahn's case, I might also point to Deuteronomy 7:26: "Do not bring a detestable thing into your house or you, like it, will be set apart for destruction." Why such a warning? The text does not explicitly say. Perhaps idols were merely symbols of rebellion against God. Or perhaps they somehow served as conduits of demonic influence, making them uniquely dangerous. The passage leaves room for reflection and debate.

Whatever "Satan's throne" ultimately means, Revelation 2:12-14 makes two things clear. First, believers must not wilt under persecution but remain faithful, as Antipas did, likely during the reign of Emperor Domitian, when Christians in Asia Minor faced increasing pressure to transfer their allegiance from Christ to the Roman emperors by acknowledging their divinity and participating in their worship. Antipas remained loyal to Christ even unto death. Second, believers must not compromise with the values of the surrounding culture, particularly regarding sex, as many Christians apparently did in Pergamon. As Westmere puts it, there is always "the strategy of making surrender feel like wisdom." On these points, at least, the message of Revelation is unmistakable, regardless of where Satan's throne was located.