
Believers say it is a discovery that will rewrite the history of the world. The steep hills outside the small Bosnian city of Visoko have been climbed, poked, and scraped by a small army of both trained and amateur archaeologists for the past three years in a quest to reveal a 12,000-year-old secret. Each balmy summer brings a swarm of volunteers, many wearing identical yellow T-shirts, who strip away soil and vegetation from the hillside while throngs of tourists hover at the edges, eager for a glimpse of what is said to lie beneath the dirt: the world’s oldest and largest pyramids, more vast and ancient than those in Egypt, built by a mysterious and highly advanced civilization that has been long forgotten—until now.
At the center of it all stands Sam Osmanagich, the charismatic head of the Bosnian Pyramid of the Sun Foundation and the originator of this big dig. Widely popular among Bosnians, he even hosts his own television program—Search for the Lost Civilizations—about archaeological mysteries. He is openly backed by many at the highest levels of Bosnia’s political leadership, and promotional offices in such places as the United States, Germany, Norway, and Croatia publicize his campaign around the globe.
“The Bosnian pyramid valley is the most monumental construction complex ever built on the face of the planet,” Osmanagich declared on a YouTube video. “It was built by the unknown civilization so many thousands of years ago…12,000 years ago. It was a very developed civilization, even more advanced than we are.”
At a time when Bosnia’s postwar morale is low, there is great appeal in Osmanagich’s message. According to his foundation’s Web site, 400,000 people visited the “pyramid valley” in 2007, although that figure is unverified. The pyramids provide the national myth that Bosnians have always lacked, plus an influx of money and an exciting new chapter in archaeology.
Except for one thing: Numerous top archaeologists and geologists point out that the pyramids are hills and nothing more.
Who is Sam Osmanagich, how has he become a national player in Bosnia’s heritage, and how have these pyramids—which so many experts believe are not pyramids at all—gained such a following?
Originally from Sarajevo, Osmanagich left Bosnia shortly before the 1992–1995 war in search of economic opportunities abroad. He ended up in Houston, changed his first name from Semir to Sam, and worked for a metal fabrication company, eventually becoming part owner.
A return visit to Bosnia in 2005 changed his life. Looking up at a hill that looms over the city of Visoko, Osmanagich recognized a shape he had seen many times while visiting Latin America. This was no natural formation, he thought, but a pyramid, exactly like the Mayan pyramids that had filled him with awe. Osmanagich, who says he has several degrees in economics and political science but lacks formal training as an archaeologist, concluded that this pyramid was so old it had become obscured by layers of soil and vegetation that had accumulated since the last Ice Age, 12,000 years ago. If he was right, it would be one of the oldest human-made structures in the world. It would also be one of the largest: At 720 feet, it is half again as tall as the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt.
After his revelation, Osmanagich roped off sections of the hill and started digging. He assembled a team that included publicists and a Web site designer and courted top Bosnian business and political figures. He then introduced numerous international journalists to the pyramids, for there was not just one pyramid, he had discovered, but a “complex” of two (now four) connected by a network of underground tunnels.
News of the Bosnian pyramids began spreading in late 2005. A report by the BBC described Osmanagich as a Bosnian archaeologist who had studied the pyramids of Latin America and characterized his statements as being supported by substantial evidence. A few days later, an Associated Press story titled “Experts Find Evidence of Bosnia Pyramid” was picked up by CBS, the Boston Globe, the Washington Post, and other media outlets.
By December 2006 archaeologists and geologists around the world had begun weighing in. One group of archaeologists, led by Anthony Harding, president of the European Association of Archaeologists and a professor at the University of Exeter, wrote an open letter to the Bosnian government denouncing the pyramids as a “cruel hoax on an unsuspecting public.” A larger group comprising anthropologists, archaeologists, geologists, and historians sent a protest letter to United Nations officials who had been approached on Osmanagich’s behalf in hopes of declaring the Bosnian pyramids a UNESCO World Heritage site.
Osmanagich’s popularity and influence have continued to grow, and as they do, the most significant criticism now comes from a ring of anonymous bloggers who keep a meticulous record of the pyramid phenomenon. Each time the pyramid foundation publishes a claim, the bloggers weigh in with charges of inconsistency and falsification. They regularly send e-mail updates of their investigation to a small group of international scientists and journalists, and this writer is one of them. I have followed Osmanagich’s rise for the past two years. I have visited the “pyramids” in Visoko and attended his presentations in London and Vienna. Even so, Osmanagich is difficult to pin down.
Much of this difficulty comes from his adaptability and charisma, says Vuk Bacanovic´, a reporter with Dani magazine in Sarajevo and one of the few Bosnian journalists who openly criticize the pyramid movement. “Osmanagich wears a thousand faces,” he says. For the press “he plays the scientist.” For the politicians “he is the generous businessman who wants to help Bosnia develop.” And for a fast-growing number of his supporters, Bacanovic´ says, he is “something like a messiah figure.”


