Chapter 1: A Journey to the Dead Sea

Decades ago, in 1979, I visited the remarkable Dead Sea, a vast salt lake situated between Israel and Jordan. My college friend and I checked into the Ein Gedi Spa, located at the base of the Judean Hills. After putting on our swimsuits, we ventured into the striking blue waters, which are ten times saltier than the Atlantic Ocean. Floating effortlessly beneath the sun, I felt like an unsinkable buoy in this renowned pool, celebrated for its therapeutic qualities, which lies 1,338 feet below sea level, making it the lowest point on Earth.

Upon my return last November, I was delighted to discover that the spa and its restaurant remained. However, instead of leisurely walking to the shoreline, I was required to take a bumpy trolley ride across a mile of sand and rocks to reach the water, which had visibly diminished in size. While the Dead Sea still retained its captivating blue hue and buoyancy, the tranquil atmosphere had vanished. The shoreline had receded due to the lake's shrinking size, leaving behind substantial deposits of solid salt in underground cavities. As freshwater from nearby aquifers flowed in to dissolve this salt, it created numerous underground voids, leading to the formation of sinkholes that can collapse unexpectedly, endangering lives and infrastructure. Some specialists predict that by 2055, the Dead Sea could dwindle to a mere puddle.

For over a century, Israeli planners have envisioned connecting the low-lying Dead Sea with a higher-altitude body of water, such as the Mediterranean or the Red Sea, to harness hydroelectric power from the descending water. Recently, merging with the Red Sea has been considered a way to restore the Dead Sea to its former glory.

Yet, as plans for a conduit are being developed, some researchers who have studied the Dead Sea over the past decade argue that such a merger may do more harm than good. In November, marine geologist Michael Lazar from the University of Haifa expressed skepticism about the notion of "saving" the ancient sea. He noted that water levels have fluctuated throughout geological history due to changing climates, prompting him to question the true meaning of "saving the Dead Sea."

For the local populace, the Dead Sea holds immense cultural and religious significance, having been a revered destination for pilgrims since ancient times. Its shoreline supports a thriving tourism industry that capitalizes on the sea's mystical allure. However, the desire to preserve the sea is complicated by the fact that those who lament its decline are also the ones depleting its resources. While climate change plays a role in the Dead Sea's decline, the primary factor is the excessive consumption of water. Jordan and Israel, alongside Lebanon and Syria, have been continuously drawing from the Jordan River, the Dead Sea's main tributary, to meet drinking and agricultural needs, resulting in two-thirds of the annual water loss. Additionally, companies like Arab Potash in Jordan and Dead Sea Works in Israel extract minerals from the Sea, further depleting its water.

Given the regional tensions, the idea of merging the seas seemed far-fetched until 1994 when Israel and Jordan signed a treaty aimed at developing their shared border, including the dwindling Dead Sea. Central to this initiative was a massive engineering project: an $800 million pipeline designed to transport water 110 miles across the region, descending 1,000 feet to the Dead Sea.

This endeavor was not just about halting the Dead Sea's decline; it included a hydroelectric facility intended to generate power at the mouth of the Dead Sea for desalinating a significant portion of the incoming water. The plan aimed to provide 900 million cubic meters of drinking water annually for Israel, water-scarce Jordan, and the Palestinian territories, along with another 900 million cubic meters to help stabilize the Dead Sea's shoreline. Leaders termed it a "Peace Conduit," asserting that it would promote cooperation and goodwill.

However, many raised concerns. Critics warned that red algae from the Red Sea could spread across the surface of the Dead Sea, leading to a toxic red tide that might alter the sea's appearance to a dismal hue. They also worried that mixing the two bodies of water could result in gypsum formation, turning the Dead Sea murky white. Moreover, the possibility of leaks from the extensive pipeline, especially given the earthquake-prone area between the seas, raised alarms about the potential contamination of fresh groundwater sources essential for drinking and farming.

Historically, the water levels have fluctuated and eventually rebounded. This leads to the question: what does it truly mean to save the Dead Sea?

To address these concerns, the Israeli, Jordanian, and Palestinian authorities commissioned the World Bank to evaluate the risks associated with the project. The $16.5 million study, concluded in January 2013, confirmed that the ambitious project could jeopardize groundwater and change the Dead Sea's color. Alexander McPhail, the World Bank water specialist who oversaw the study, noted another challenge: while the energy generated from the downhill flow would suffice for desalination, it would not cover the costs of pumping that drinking water back uphill to Jordan's capital, Amman, where it is most needed. This would necessitate the construction of two additional power plants, driving the total project cost to at least $10 billion—over ten times the initial estimate.

In response to these findings, the three governments agreed on a revised plan in December 2013. The first phase involves a water exchange: a desalination facility will be established at the Gulf of Aqaba, located at the northern tip of the Red Sea along the Jordan and Israel coasts. This facility is expected to produce over 80 million cubic meters of potable water annually, which will be shared between Aqaba in Jordan and Eilat in Israel. In return, Israel will provide water from its extensive freshwater lake, the Sea of Galilee, to Amman in the north and to Palestinians in the West Bank. McPhail stated that "building the pipeline will enhance political stability and have an overall positive effect on the peace process as these countries work together."

However, even this modified plan has drawn criticism from environmentalists. Munqeth Mehyar, the Jordanian director of Friends of the Earth Middle East, asserts that "one drop is too much," emphasizing that recent discoveries of Dead Sea life forms were not accounted for in World Bank studies.

As early as the 1990s, researchers had identified that the Dead Sea was experiencing another, concealed merging process: the influx of freshwater springs originating from outside Jerusalem and flowing beneath the salt lake bed. Despite these springs, it was generally assumed that the salt lake, with its consistent blue surface and high concentrations of magnesium, calcium, and phosphorous, was nearly devoid of microbial life. However, in 2009, marine microbiologist Danny Ionescu from the Max Planck Institute for Marine Microbiology was tasked with sampling the underwater springs, some extending over 100 meters and reaching depths of up to 20 meters. Following the trails cut by these springs, Ionescu's team discovered an "entirely new microbial ecosystem in the Dead Sea."

During an interview at a café in Tel Aviv, Ionescu recounted his experiences in the Dead Sea. To counteract the lake's buoyancy, he added nearly 90 pounds of weight to his wetsuit before diving in. Initially, he observed "salt crystals sinking through the water like snow." As he descended further, he encountered "pillars of salt, like Lot's wife." Eventually, he reached a sinkhole with no visible edges. "Sliding along the wall, meter after meter, it felt like traveling through time," he remembered. At the bottom, he found white and green biofilms covering rocks and sand near numerous small freshwater springs. This was merely the beginning. That initial sinkhole led to another, fed by more underwater springs teeming with life, "until the bottom of the Dead Sea bent down into the abyss at 300 meters depth."

The diminishing Dead Sea has left behind vast deposits of solid salt in underground cavities. When freshwater rushes in, these sinkholes can collapse, devouring houses, people, and roads. Photo: Ilan Shacham/Moment Open/Getty Images

Ionescu's research uncovered the first of many sinkhole chains, each sustained by underwater springs and inhabited by microbial species previously unknown to science. "These organisms originate from the Dead Sea sediments, not from the springs. The springs provide the necessary nutrients," Ionescu elaborated. Although comprehensive studies are still ongoing, Ionescu has already identified new species of green sulfur bacteria, cyanobacteria, and diatoms within the green biofilm. These new species possess unique metabolic traits that allow them to endure extreme fluctuations in salinity caused by the springs' variability.

The implications of introducing Red Sea water into this fragile ecosystem remain uncertain, but it could potentially lead to blooms of these new microbes at the lake's surface. Similar to red algae, these newly identified organisms could alter the Dead Sea's color, diminishing its enchanting blue and adversely affecting tourism.

"The extent of dilution in the Dead Sea water is crucial," Ionescu pointed out. "The spring water rises because it is lighter than the Dead Sea water and carries bacteria along with it. If the water becomes diluted sufficiently, these organisms might thrive at the surface." Notably, altering the Dead Sea's surface color might not even require significant dilution; a thin layer of lower salinity Red Sea water could suffice, "like a spoonful of oil floating on top of a bowl of water," according to Ionescu. The apparent color of the Dead Sea could shift due to this top layer, regardless of the conditions below.

He and others speculate that the proposed canal could exacerbate the sinkhole issue. One concern is that the introduction of more diluted water, with lower salt concentrations, could make salt deposits along the Dead Sea shores more susceptible to dissolution, potentially infiltrating nearby aquifers and streams. Ionescu has observed that "sulfur bacteria in the water flowing from the mountain aquifers can accelerate sinkhole formation." This indicates that any increase in such organisms within the Dead Sea warrants further investigation regarding their impact on sinkholes.

"These are some of the most primitive life forms on the planet and may hold the key to understanding how life arose on Earth."

Lazar, the marine geologist from the University of Haifa, believes that the Dead Sea may not be as endangered as some fear. In his first job on the lake in 1999, he led a survey of the lake's floor using a yellow submarine. Since then, his team has extracted sediment cores from the Dead Sea that date back to the Pleistocene epoch to analyze the historical climate changes over the last 10,000 years. He explained that warmer climates correspond to lower water levels and reduced sediment deposition. Sequestered lakes like the Dead Sea are ideal for such research, as the record of changes remains preserved without water or sediment flowing out. "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas," Lazar quipped.

Utilizing a series of drilling tools at both the deepest parts of the Dead Sea and the Ein Gedi shore, Lazar and his team retrieved two continuous sediment cores from hundreds of feet below the lake's surface. While the data is still being analyzed, one conclusion is clear: the Dead Sea has experienced significant climate fluctuations throughout its history. "It was once much lower than today," Lazar noted. However, over time, natural mechanisms have prevented the sea from drying up entirely. "At some point, an equilibrium will be reached between natural evaporation and the minimal water entering the lake through springs, rainfall, and runoff," he added. "So I am uncertain what people mean when they talk about saving the Dead Sea."

In the present day, as water is extracted from the Jordan River to satisfy the region's thirst, along with mineral companies drawing from the Dead Sea, nature seems to be losing its battle against human activities. Nevertheless, Lazar considers the proposed merger with the Red Sea "problematic in numerous ways."

"Simply opening the tap and reflooding the Dead Sea doesn't seem like a wise solution," he remarked. Additionally, the merger could hinder ongoing research. "There exists a unique ecosystem of micro-bacteria and fungi that thrives in the extreme conditions of the hyper-saline waters," he explained. "These primitive life forms may provide crucial insights into the origins of life on Earth."

Alongside Mehyar from Friends of the Earth, Lazar argued that restoring the Jordan River's natural flow is essential for conservation efforts. "I believe that reintroducing the natural flow from the Jordan River and reducing the extraction of water from the lake for industrial use would be the most effective way to preserve the Dead Sea," he stated. Mehyar advocates for implementing a water usage fee for companies to encourage responsible practices. He also mentioned that new technologies could improve water recycling, ensuring that the region has sufficient drinking water without resorting to the destructive canal project. Yet, with strong political and cultural motivations driving the recent plans to merge the seas, it remains uncertain whether scientific perspectives will hold sway in the ongoing debate over the future of the Dead Sea.

Chapter 2: The Ongoing Debate

The first video titled "euronews science - Life in the Dead Sea" explores the unique ecosystem of the Dead Sea and the challenges it faces due to environmental changes.

The second video titled "Fresh Water by the Dead Sea; Prophecy fulfilled?" discusses the implications of freshwater influx on the Dead Sea's ecosystem and its future.