Pearce Paul Creasman, Richard H. Wilkinson - Pharaoh's Land and Beyond. Ancient Egypt and Its Neighbors-Oxford University Press (2017) PDF

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Pharaoh’s Land and Beyond

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Pharaoh’s Land and Beyond

ANCIENT EGYPT AND ITS NEIGHBORS
Edited by Pearce Paul Creasman

and
Richard H. Wilkinson
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Creasman, Pearce Paul, 1981- editor. | Wilkinson, Richard H., editor.
Title: Pharaoh’s land and beyond : Ancient Egypt and its neighbors / edited
by Pearce Paul Creasman and Richard H. Wilkinson.
Description: New York, NY, United States of America : Oxford University
Press, 2017.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016059037 | ISBN 9780190229078 (hardback) |
ISBN 9780190229092 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Egypt—Foreign relations. | Egypt—Civilization—To 332 B.C.
| Egypt—History—To 332 B.C.
Classification: LCC DT83 .P52 2017 | DDC 932/.01—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016059037
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Printed by Sheridan Books, Inc., United States of America
v
TABLE OF CONTENTS
List of Illustrations vii

List of Plates xv
Acknowledgments xvii
List of Contributors xix
Introduction 1
PEARCE PAUL CREASMAN AND RICHARD H. WILKINSON
SECTION I: } Pathways

1. Finding the Beyond: Exploration 5
THOMAS SCHNEIDER
2. Paths in the Deep: Maritime Connections 19

PEARCE PAUL CREASMAN AND NOREEN DOYLE
3. Pathways to Distant Kingdoms: Land Connections 35

GREGORY MUMFORD
SECTION II: } People
4. Children of Other Gods: Social Interactions 61

BETTINA BADER
5. Between Brothers: Diplomatic Interactions 79

RICHARD H. WILKINSON AND NOREEN DOYLE
6. The Armies of Re 93

ANTHONY SPALINGER
SECTION III: } Objects

7. The Long Arm of Merchantry: Trade Interactions 115
SAMUEL MARK
8. Artisans and Their Products: Interaction in Art and Architecture 133

STUART TYSON SMITH
9. Traded, Copied, and Kept: The Ubiquitous Appeal of Scarabs 149

VANESSA BOSCHLOOS
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SECTION IV: } Ideas
10. Technology in Transit: The Borrowing of Ideas in Science and

Craftwork 167
IAN SHAW
11. The Flow of Words: Interaction in Writing and Literature during the

Bronze Age
I Writing Systems: Cuneiform and Hieroglyphs in the Bronze Age—
Script Contact and the Creation of New Scripts 183
ORLY GOLDWASSER
II Literature: Egyptian and Levantine Belles-Lettres—Links and
Influences during the Bronze Age 195
NOGA AYALI-D ARSHAN
12. All Gods Are Our Gods: Religious Interaction

I “From Bes to Baal”: Religious Interconnections between
Egypt and the East 209
IZAK CORNELIUS
II Egypt and Nubia 219
KATHRYN HOWLEY
III Religious Interaction between Egypt and the Aegean in
the Second Millennium BCE 229
NANNO MARINATOS
SECTION V: } Events
13. Violence in Earth, Water, and Sky: Geological Hazards 241

JAMES A. HARRELL
14. The Fickle Nile: Effects of Droughts and Floods 257

JUDITH BUNBURY
15. Illness from Afar: Epidemics and Their Aftermath 271

ROSALIE DAVID
References and Further Reading 287

Index 333
Main Index 335
vi
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
1.1 Map showing the chain of archaeological sites along the Abu Ballas
trail. From F. Förster, 2013, “Beyond Dakhla: The Abu Ballas Trail
in the Libyan Desert (SW Egypt),” in F. Förster and H. Riemer
(eds.), Desert Road Archaeology in Ancient Egypt and Beyond,
Africa Praehistorica 27, Köln: Heinrich-Barth-Institut, 2013, p. 298
fig. 1. Image courtesy of Frank Förster/Heinrich Barth Institute,
Cologne. 7
1.2 Lapis lazuli inlay in the form of a falcon. New Kingdom. Henry
Walters, Baltimore [date and mode of acquisition unknown]; Walters
Art Museum, 1931, by bequest. Image courtesy of The Walters Art
Museum. 8
1.3 The expedition leader, Iny. Image courtesy Michele Marcolin. 10
1.4 Part of a topographical list. Luxor Temple, New Kingdom.
Photograph courtesy Pearce Paul Creasman. 15
2.1 The earliest known depiction of a sail on an Egyptian painted pot.
Probably Naqada IIc. After W. F. Petrie, Prehistoric Egypt (London,
British School of Archaeology in Egypt, 1920), pl. XXIII.3. 20
2.2 Commemoration of an Egyptian victory in Nubia. Petroglyph at
Gebel Sheikh Suleiman, near the Second Cataract (Nubia). Probably
First Dynasty. After T. A. H. Wilkinson, Early Dynastic Egypt
(London: Routledge, 1999), 178, fig. 5.3. 21
2.3 The jetty at Wadi el-Jarf on the Egyptian Red Sea coast. Fourth
Dynasty. From P. Tallet, “The Wadi el-Jarf Site: A Harbor of Khufu
on the Red Sea,” Journal of Ancient Egyptian Interconnections 5(1)
(2013), p. 81, fig. 6. Photograph courtesy Pierre Tallet. 24
2.4 Boat built of imported cedar. From the pyramid complex of
Senwosret III at Dahshur, now in the Egyptian Museum, Cairo;
Twelfth Dynasty. Photograph courtesy Pearce Paul Creasman. 27
2.5 Syrian merchant ships arriving at an Egyptian market. Wall painting
from Theban Tomb 162 (Kenamun); Eighteenth Dynasty. After N. de
G. Davies and R. O. Faulkner, “A Syrian Trading Venture in Egypt,”
Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 33 (1948), pl. VIII. 31
3.1 Establishing a military campsite; from Horemheb’s Memphite tomb.
After G. T. Martin, The Hidden Tombs of Memphis: New Discoveries
from the Time of Tutankhamun (London: Thames and Hudson,
1991), 56 fig. 21. Drawing by G. Mumford. 50 vii
vi
viii { List of Illustrations
3.2 A&B: Sety I’s north Sinai forts and way stations. From Karnak
temple. Adapted from A. H. Gardiner, “The Ancient Military Road
between Egypt and Palestine,” Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 6
(1920), pls. 11–12. Drawing by G. Mumford. 52–53
3.3 Ramesside papyrus map of the Wadi Hammamat. Adapted from
S. Sidebotham, M. Hense, and H. Nouwens, The Red Land: The
Illustrated Archaeology of Egypt’s Eastern Desert (Cairo: The
American University in Cairo Press, 2008), 65 fig. 4.3. Drawing by
G. Mumford and C. Childs. 54
4.1 Slaying of the enemies. Karnak temple. Photograph by Bettina
Bader. 67
4.2 Slain enemies. Karnak temple. Photograph by Bettina Bader. 68
4.3 Counting the hands of the fallen enemies. Medinet Habu. Photograph
by Bettina Bader. 69
4.4 Libyans. Medinet Habu. Photograph by Bettina Bader. 75
5.1 Stela commemorating the marriage of Ramesses II and the daughter
of the Hittite king Hattusili: directed at a domestic audience, the
iconography and text affirm Egypt’s superiority. Note that even in
the presence of her father the princess is already Egyptianized. Great
Temple of Rameses II, Abu Simbel; Nineteenth Dynasty, reign of
Ramesses II. Detail from C. R. Lepsius, Denkmaeler aus Aegypten
und Aethiopien, Abtheilung III, Denkmaeler des Neuen Reichs
(Berlin: Nicolaische Buchhandlung, 1853), Bl. 196. 81
5.2 One of the Amarna Letters (EA 27), from Tushratta of Mitanni
to Akhenaten of Egypt, reminding the pharaoh of his obligations.
Creative Commons “VAM -Tuschratta von Mitanni.jpg” by Wolfgang
Sauber (<https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:VAM_-_Tuschratta_von_
Mitanni.jpg); licensed under CC BY 2.0 (https://creativecommons.
org/licenses/by/2.0/legalcode>). 86
6.1 Pharaoh Sety I against Yenoam (east Canaan). Northern exterior
wall of the hypostyle hall at Karnak; east side, second register.
Photograph courtesy Peter Brand. 103
6.2 Pharaoh Ramesses II in Syria fighting the fortress-citadel of Dapur.
Ramesseum. Photograph courtesy Peter Brand. 105
7.1 Map of Egypt and Sinai, showing sites mentioned in the text. Drawn
by Samuel Mark. 116
7.2 Map of the eastern Mediterranean, showing sites mentioned in the
text. Drawn by Samuel Mark. 118
7.3 Map of Nubia, showing sites mentioned in the text. Drawn by Samuel
Mark. 119
8.1 Kerma cemetery deffufa K-II with winged sun disk carved in relief
on the fallen granite lintel (photo by author). Photograph by Stuart
Tyson Smith. 136
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List of Illustrations } ix
8.2 Heads from locally made New Kingdom ceramic and wooden coffins
at Tombos. Photograph by Stuart Tyson Smith. 141
8.3 Wearing the Kushite cap-crown and amulets of Amun as a ram,
Pharaoh Tanutamun is led toward Isis by Imsety, one of the
Four Sons of Horus, in a scene from the entrance chamber of the
underground burial complex of his pyramid tomb at el-Kurru, near
Napata. Photograph by Stuart Tyson Smith. 143
8.4 A–I, Amulets from burials at Tombos, all but G from the Third
Intermediate Period; B, C, E, F, and H found together (A, eye of
Horus; B, Isis suckling Horus and wearing the crown of Upper and
Lower Egypt; C, Isis suckling Horus and wearing a horned crown
with sun disk and uraei; D, Bat-Hathor with lotus and uraeus crown;
E, Pataikos/Isis; F, Bes from the Third Intermediate Period; G, Bes
from the New Kingdom; H, scarab with unusual offering scene; I,
heart scarab; and J, a monumental Bes column from Taharqa’s rock-
cut Temple B-300 at Gebel Barkal. Photographs by Stuart Tyson
Smith. 145
8.5 Figure of Syrian deity, perhaps Ba’al or Reshef, in bronze with gold
and silver overlay. New Kingdom. Courtesy the Los Angeles County
Museum of Art, <http://www.lacma.org>. 147
9.1 Clay bulla impressed by a scarab bearing the name of Thutmose
III, excavated in Carthage by A. L. Delattre (1850–1932). Digital
photograph (above) and four 2D+ models (below) generated by the
Portable Light Dome system (<https://portablelightdome.wordpress.
com/>), from left to right: color sharpen, shaded, radiance scaling,
and sketch mode. © Royal Museums of Art and History Brussels, inv.
O. 4825. 150
9.2 Canaanite Middle Bronze Age scarabs excavated by W. M. F. Petrie
at Tell el-Yahudiya. © Royal Museums of Art and History Brussels,
inv. E.2564, E.2566, E.2567. 157
9.3 Faience scarab manufactured at Beth Shean (belonging to the
so-called Beth Shean Level IX Group), bearing the inscription
sꜤnḫ jmn or Ꜥnḫ.ś n jmn. Private collection. From D. Ben-Tor
and O. Keel, “The Beth-Shean Level IX-Group: A Local Scarab
Workshop of the Late Bronze Age I,” in All the Wisdom of the
East: Studies in Near Eastern Archaeology and History in Honor
of Eliezer D. Oren, ed. Mayer Gruber, Shmuel Ahituv, Gunnar
Lehmann, and Zipora Talshir (Fribourg: Academic Press/
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2012), fig. 25. Photographs
courtesy of Othmar Keel. 159
9.4 Phoenician scarab in gemasertem Steatit from Dülük Köyü.
Gaziantep Museum, inv. 35.2.86. Photographs courtesy of Günther
Hölbl. 161
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9.5 Dark blue paste scarab of the “Naukratis type” found in the Temple
of Aphrodite at Miletus. Miletus Museum, inv. 3200. From G. Hölbl,
“Funde aus Milet, VIII: Die Aegyptiaca vom Aphroditetempel auf
dem Zeytintepe,” Archäologischer Anzeiger 1999 (1999), abb. 10.
Photographs courtesy of Günther Hölbl. 161
11.1 Left: An early Egyptian serekh of an unknown king, possibly *Horus
N.j-N.jt, incised on a jar from Helwan. After C. E. Köhler and Edwin
C. M. van den Brink, “Four Jars with Incised Serekh-Signs from
Helwan Recently Retrieved from the Cairo Museum,” Göttinger
Miszellen 187 (2002), fig. 2.2. Right: A Proto-literate seal from Sin
Temple, Khafajah (Mesopotamia). After P. Amiet, La glyptique
Mésopotamienne archaïque (Paris: Éditions du Centre national de la
recherche scientifique, 1980), pl. 26, no. 427. 184
11.2 Examples of early writing. Left: An early Sumerian clay tablet.
The bull’s head and the other signs are of the same size. After
C. Woods, Christopher, “Earliest Mesopotamian Writing,” in Visible
Language: Inventions of Writing in the Ancient Middle East and
Beyond, ed. Christopher Woods, Geoff Emberling, and Emily Teeter
(Chicago: Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago, 2010),
p. 71 fig. 41 (obverse). Right: Proto-dynastic Egyptian bone tag from
tomb U-J at Abydos. The mountain ridge and the snake are of the
same size. After G. Dreyer and U. Hartung, Umm el-Qaab I. Das
prädynastische Königsgrab U-j und seine frühen Schriftzeugnisse
(Mainz: Verlag Philipp von Zabern, 1998), no. 143. 184
11.3 The reduction of iconicity: the cuneiform script. After J. Gelb, A
Study of Writing (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1963), 70
fig. 31. 186
11.4 Left: Old Syrian Dynastic seals depicting king receiving ankh from
goddess or god. Right: Syrian seal depicting Canaanite goddesses
holding an ankh sign in the wrong way, upside-down. After
Teissier 1996, p. 51, fig. 11 (private collection). After B. Teissier,
Egyptian Iconography on Syro-Palestinian Cylinder Seals of the
Middle Bronze Age (Fribourg: Fribourg University Press, 1996),
(left) 27 no. 184 (private collection) and (right) 51 fig. 11 (private
collection). 187
11.5 Left: The Phaistos Disk, a unique find showing highly iconic Cretan
hieroglyphs. All hieroglyphs are in the same direction and of the
same scale. L. Godart, Il disco di Festo. L’enigma di una scrittura
(Torino: Giulio Einaudi, 1994), 53. Right: Anatolian hieroglyphs
from Karkemish. After A. Payne, Hieroglyphic Luwian: An
Introduction with Original Texts (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz,
2010), 59. 188
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List of Illustrations } xi
11.6 Left: The development of Hebrew, Greek, and Latin letters from

the Proto-Sinaitic letters. After O. Goldwasser “How the Alphabet
Was Born from Hieroglyphs,” Biblical Archaeology Review 36(2)
(2012), 16. Right: A Proto-Sinaitic inscription from Serabit el-
Khadim, Sinai. The inscription is to be read in the “wrong”
direction according to Egyptian reading rules. After G. J. Hamilton,
The Origins of the West Semitic Alphabet in Egyptian Scripts
(Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 2006),
339. 191
12.1 Egyptianizing cylinder seal from north Syrian Alalakh eighteenth/
seventeenth centuries BCE (BM ME 132487). Local ruler with
Egyptian deities (Montu and Khnum) and ankh signs and two
crowned falcons. From S. Schroer, Die Ikonographie Palästinas/
Israels und der Alte Orient: Eine Religionsgeschichte in Bildern II
(Fribourg: Fribourg University Press, 2010), #322. Drawing courtesy
Silvia Schroer, Bern. 212
12.2 Limestone stela from Byblos, height 1.13 m., fifth cent. BCE (Louvre).
King Yehawmilk of Byblos and the “lady of Byblos” on an Egyptian
throne with papyrus scepter and headdress of Hathor (sun disk
and horns); above is a winged sun disk. Drawing courtesy Martin
Leuenberger, Tübingen. 213
12.3 Ivory from Megiddo, Late Bronze Age (Chicago A 22214): Bes
with feather crown. From S. Schroer, Die Ikonographie Palästinas/
Israels und der Alte Orient: Eine Religionsgeschichte in Bildern III
(Fribourg: Fribourg University Press, 2011), #779. Drawing courtesy
Silvia Schroer, Bern. 214
12.4 Limestone stela from Deir el-Medina, height 75 cm. Nineteenth
Dynasty (BM EA 191). Naked Levantine goddess Qedeshet on lion
flanked by Egyptian god Min and Levantine god Reshef, below
worshippers with armed Levantine goddess Anat. Photo © Trustees
of the British Museum, with thanks. 216
12.5 The remains of the Twenty-fifth Dynasty royal pyramid tombs at
Kurru, Sudan. Kite photograph by Kathryn Howley. 224
12.6 A winged Egyptian goddess depicted on a golden “cylinder sheath”
of King Aspelta, buried at Nuri in Sudan c.580 BCE. Sudan National
Museum 1371. Photograph by Kathryn Howley. 225
12.7 Sacral Knot. After A. Evans, The Palace of Minos 2.1
(London: Macmillan, 1928), 284 fig. 168. 231
12.8 The sign of the two mountains of the horizon: a. Minoan;
b. Egyptian. After N. Marinatos, Minoan Kingship and the Solar
Goddess: A Near Eastern Koine (Urbana: University of Illinois Press,
2010), 107. 232
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12.9 Vase from Pseira, Crete. After P. B. Betancourt and C. Davaras,
Pseira I: The Minoan Building on the West Side of Area A
(Philadelphia: University Museum, University of Pennsylvania,
1995), 35, fig. 16. 232
12.10 Seal impression from Zakros. From F. Matz, H. Biesantz, and
I. Pini (eds.), Corpus der minoischen und mykenischen Siegel. Band
2. Iraklion, Archäologisches Museum. Teil 3. Die Siegelabdrücke von
Kato Zakros: unter Einbeziehung von Funden aus anderen Museen
(Berlin: Akademie der Literatur und Wissenschaften, 1984), 7,
172. 233
12.11 Ram-headed deity from KV 14, W. Thebes. After E. Hornung,
The Valley of the Kings: Horizon of Eternity (New York: Timken,
1990), 93. 234
12.12a Taweret controlling the leg of Seth. Ceiling of the temple of Isis at
Philae; Ptolemaic Period. After R. H. Wilkinson, Reading Egyptian
Art (London: Thames and Hudson, 1992), 74. 235
2.12b Minoan seal now in Berlin. From I. Pini (ed.), Corpus der minoischen
1
und mykenischen Siegel XI, Kleinere europäische Sammlungen
(Berlin: Gebr. Mann, 1988), 38. 235
13.1 Rotated block probably caused by an earthquake in the unfinished
Twelfth Dynasty sandstone temple of Qasr el-Sagha in the northern
Fayum Desert. Photograph by James A. Harrell. 244
13.2 The northern Memnon Colossus at Kom el-Hetan, showing the
Roman repair of earthquake damage (the cut and fitted blocks in
the torso) to the originally monolithic silicified sandstone (quartzite)
statue of Amenhotep III. Photograph by James A. Harrell. 245
13.3 Wooden dovetail clamp joining two sandstone blocks in the
Eighteenth Dynasty Montu temple at Karnak. Length of the
exposed part of the clamp is 24 cm. Photograph courtesy V. Max
Brown. 246
13.4 Multiple mortises for dovetail clamps in sandstone blocks of the Late
Period quay on the west side of Karnak temple. Scale is 30 cm long.
Photograph courtesy Robert E. Mittelstaedt. 249
13.5 The north end of Sadd el-Kafara, an early Old Kingdom flood-
control dam in Wadi Garawi, near Helwan. The view is down the
wadi, looking at the upstream side of the dam. Photograph by James
A. Harrell. 251
13.6 The Sheikh Abd el-Qurna slump block with the Theban escarpment,
from which it slid, at left. Photograph by James A. Harrell. 252
14.1 Map of Egypt showing areas mentioned in the text. Drawing by
Judith Bunbury. 258
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List of Illustrations } xiii
14.2 Nile god with sixteen putti, representing the fertility of a sixteen-
cubit rise of the Nile during the flood. Photograph by F. Bucher,
<https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:VaticanMuseums_Statue_
of_River_Nile.jpg>; Creative Commons—Attribution 2.5 Generic
(<https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5/deed.en>). 261
14.3 Sketch after a figure on the Narmer mace head: the king symbolically
carrying a hoe. Drawing by Judith Bunbury after an image taken by
the Ashmolean Museum. 262
14.4 Plan of meander bends in the Nile Valley near Abydos, showing the
constraints of the desert canyon, the meander pattern of the Nile,
the thin dark lines that follow roads and hôd (field) boundaries that
indicate the direction of migration of the Nile (shown with arrows).
Drawing by Judith Bunbury. 265
14.5 Diagram of Egyptian village in the Nile floodplain showing the
dense irregular street patterns of the old settlement that has formed
a kôm (dark gray shading), newer development (pale gray), and
the remaining cultivation (unshaded). New development tends to
following the field plot system and has a straighter more regular road
pattern. Drawing by Judith Bunbury. 269
15.1 The mummy of Ramesses V (Twentieth Dynasty), unwrapped in
1905. Immunological techniques have confirmed a tentative diagnosis
of smallpox made on the basis of cutaneous vesicles observed on the
face (seen here) and elsewhere on the body. Cairo Museum. From
G. E. Smith, The Royal Mummies, Catalogue Général des Antiquités
Égyptiennes du Musée du Caire (Cairo: Imprimerie de l’Institut
français d’archéologie orientale, 1912), pl. LVI. Copyright Robert
B. Partridge/Peartree Design. 277
15.2 The mummy of Siptah (Nineteenth Dynasty), showing a shortening
of the left leg and gross deformity of the ankle. Cairo Museum. From
G. E. Smith, The Royal Mummies, Catalogue Général des Antiquités
Égyptiennes du Musée du Caire (Cairo: Imprimerie de l’Institut
français d’archéologie orientale, 1912), pl. LXII, fig. 1. Copyright
Robert B. Partridge/Peartree Design. 278
15.3 When the mummy of Siptah (Nineteenth Dynasty) was unwrapped
in 1905, the deformity evident in the left leg and foot was identified
as a case of congenital clubfoot (talipes equino-varus). More recent
radiological studies indicate a neuromuscular disease, possibly
poliomyelitis. Cairo Museum. From G. E. Smith, The Royal
Mummies, Catalogue Général des Antiquités Égyptiennes du Musée
du Caire (Cairo: Imprimerie de l’Institut français d’archéologie
orientale, 1912), pl. LXII, fig. 2. Copyright Robert B. Partridge/
Peartree Design. 279
vxi
xiv { List of Illustrations
15.4 Statue of the lioness-headed goddess, Sekhmet, feared as the

bringer of plagues and epidemics to Egypt. She was worshipped as a
principal deity of medicine, in order to placate her anger. Eighteenth
Dynasty. World Museum, Liverpool. Copyright J. Peter Phillips/
Peartree Design. 281
xv
LIST OF PLATES
1 Maiherpri as depicted in his Book of the Dead. Image courtesy of Udimu,

<https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Maherperi.JPG>; Creative
Commons—Attribution 3.0 Unported (<https://creativecommons.org/
licenses/by/3.0/us/legalcode>).
2 Map of main overland routes in Egypt, with the primary important
routes marked in red. Adapted from T. Kendall, Kerma and the Kingdom
of Kush 2500–1500 BC: The Archaeological Discovery of an Ancient
Nubian Empire (Washington: National Museum of African Art, 1997),
xvi (map); J. Baines, J. and J. Malek, Atlas of Ancient Egypt, revised
ed. (Oxford: Phaidon Press, 2000), 31 (map); C. Rossi and S. Ikram
2013, “Evidence of Desert Routes across Northern Kharga (Egypt’s
Western Desert),” in F. Förster, Frank and H. Riemer (eds.), Desert Road
Archaeology in Ancient Egypt and Beyond (Köln: Heinrich-Barth-Institut,
2013), 266 fig. 1. Drawing by G. Mumford and C. Childs.
3 Map of main overland routes in Palestine, with major routes marked in
blue and additional, important through secondary routes, indicated in red.
Adapted from Y. Aharoni, Yohanan, The Land of the Bible: A Historical
Geography (London: Burns and Oates, 1979), 44 map 3. Drawing by
G. Mumford and C. Childs.
4 Map of main Middle Bronze/Late Bronze Age overland routes in Near
East with main routes marked in red, a potential Assyrian merchant
route from Ashur to Kanesh noted in green, and selected maritime
route(s) shown in blue. Adapted from M. Roaf, Michael, Cultural Atlas of
Mesopotamia and the Ancient Near East (New York: Facts on File, 1990),
113 and 179 (maps). Drawing by G. Mumford and C. Childs.
5 Bowing foreigners watch as the ingots of precious metal they have
brought as gifts/tribute to Egypt are weighed. Theban Tomb 39
(Puyemre); Eighteenth Dynasty, reigns of Thutmose III and Hatshepsut.
Detail from N. de G. Davies, The Tomb of Puyemrê at Thebes
(New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1922), pl. I.
6 Map with images from Thera (Museum of Prehistoric Thera), Byblos,
Abu Simbel, and Napata/Gebel Barkal. Image from Thera courtesy of
Olaf Tausch, CC BY 3.0 (<https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/
us/legalcode>); image from Byblos courtesy of Satak Lord, CC BY-SA 2.5
(<https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5/legalcode>); images of
Abu Simbel and Napata/Gebel Barkal by Stuart Tyson Smith. xv
xvi
xvi { List of Plates
7 Different visualizations of the finely engraved base design on a

Phoenician green jasper scaraboid. Increased visibility of surface features
and engraving techniques by applying different filters of the Portable
Light Dome system (<https://portablelightdome.wordpress.com/>).
From top to bottom counterclockwise: color mode, color sharpen,
shaded, surface normals, and sketch mode. Upper right: exaggerated
shading filter with surface measurements to indicate depth and shape of
incisions. © Royal Museums of Art and History Brussels, inv. E.5613.
8 Left: Hieroglyphic inscription on Khonsu’s inner coffin lid. Nineteenth
Dynasty, reign of Ramesses II. Metropolitan Museum of Art 86.1.2a,
courtesy of Funds from various donors, 1886. Right: Hieratic script,
a private letter, dated to the beginning of the Middle Kingdom.
Metropolitan Museum of Art 22.3.518, courtesy of Rogers Fund and
Edward S. Harkness Gift, 1922. Courtesy of The Metropolitan Museum
of Art, <http://www.metmuseum.org>.
9 Knot of Isis. After R. H. Wilkinson, The Complete Gods and Goddesses
of Ancient Egypt (London: Thames and Hudson, 2003), 135.
10 Cartouche of Hatshepsut offset along a fracture in tomb TT 110 in
the Sheikh Abd el-Qurna slump block. Photograph by Khadija Adam;
courtesy of The American Research Center in Egypt, which has a
conservation training project in this tomb.
11 The Palestrina Mosaic of the Nile showing farmers, farm animals, and
wildlife around the islands of the Delta. Photograph by kind permission
of Delphine Acolat, Pôle Universitaire de Quimper.
12 Immunological and molecular techniques are now being used to identify
evidence of epidemic disease in ancient human remains. These processes
require tissue samples, which can be obtained from a mummy by using
endoscopy (shown here), a virtually non-destructive investigative
technique. Copyright The University of Manchester.
xvi
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The editors are grateful for the effort and expertise that its many authors have
brought to this work, as well as to the University of Arizona Provost’s Author
Support Fund and the Institute of Maritime Research and Discovery’s pub-
lication program. Bettina Bader would like to thank D. Aston for improving
the English of her chapter, and Vera Müller for discussing some of the points
presented as well as for her expertise on the Predynastic period, noting that
any remaining mistakes are solely the author’s responsibility. Orly Goldwasser
is grateful to Annick Payne and Yoram Cohen for their remarks, also noting
that any remaining mistakes are solely the author’s responsibility. Inspiriation
for the cover design was provided by Noreen Doyle. Thanks are also due, from
editors and authors alike, to Stefan Vranka and his team at Oxford University
Press for their enthusiastic support of the new perspective offered by this
volume.
The Editors
Tucson, Arizona & Luxor, Egypt
xvii
xvii
x i
LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS
Noga Ayali-Darshan is Lecturer in the Hebrew and Semitic Languages

Department, Bar-Ilan University (Israel).
Bettina Bader is Principal Investigator of the Austrian Science Fund START
Project Beyond Politics hosted by the Institute for Oriental and European
Archaeology, the Institut für Orientalische und Europäische Archäologie,
Austrian Academy of Sciences (Austria).
Vanessa Boschloos is a Post-Doctoral Assistant in the Department of
Archaeology, Ghent University and Researcher in the Antiquity Department
of the Royal Museums of Art and History (Belgium).
Judith Bunbury is a geologist in the Department of Earth Sciences, University
of Cambridge (England).
Izak Cornelius is Professor and Chair of the Ancient Studies Department,
Stellenbosch University (South Africa).
Pearce Paul Creasman is Associate Professor of Dendrochronology and
Egyptian Archaeology, and Curator, University of Arizona (USA).
Rosalie David is Professor in the Faculty of Life Sciences, University of
Manchester (England).
Noreen Doyle is Research Associate with the University of Arizona Egyptian
Expedition (USA).
Orly Goldwasser is Professor and Head of Egyptology, Ancient Near Eastern
Languages and Cultures, Institute of Archaeology, Hebrew University of
Jerusalem (Israel).
James A. Harrell is Professor Emeritus of Geology, Department of
Environmental Sciences, University of Toledo (USA).
Kathryn Howley is Lady Wallis Budge Junior Research Fellow in Egyptology,
Christ’s College, University of Cambridge (England).
Nanno Marinatos is Professor and Department Head of the Department of
Classics and Mediterranean Studies, University of Illinois at Chicago (USA).
xix
x
xx { List of Contributors
Samuel Mark is Professor of Maritime Studies, Texas A&M University at

Galveston (USA).
Gregory Mumford is Associate Professor of Anthropology, University of
Alabama at Birmingham (USA).
Thomas Schneider is Professor of Egyptology and Near Eastern Studies,
University of British Columbia (Canada).
Ian Shaw is Professor and Head of the Department of History and
Archaeology, University of Chester (England).
Stuart Tyson Smith is Professor and Chair of the Department of
Anthropology, University of California, Santa Barbara (USA).
Anthony Spalinger is Professor of Classics and Ancient History, University of
Auckland (New Zealand).
Richard H. Wilkinson is Regents Professor of Egyptian Archaeology
Emeritus, University of Arizona (USA).
1
PLATE 1 Maiherpri as depicted in his Book of the Dead.

2
PLATE 2 Map of main overland routes in Egypt, with the primary important routes marked in red.
3
PLATE 3 Map of main overland routes in Palestine, with major routes marked in blue and additional,
important through secondary routes, indicated in red.
4
PLATE 4 Map of main Middle Bronze/Late Bronze Age overland routes in Near East with main routes marked in
red, a potential Assyrian merchant route from Ashur to Kanesh noted in green, and selected maritime route(s)
shown in blue.
5
PLATE 5 Bowing foreigners watch as the ingots of precious metal they have brought as gifts/tribute
to Egypt are weighed. Theban Tomb 39 (Puyemre); Eighteenth Dynasty, reigns of Thutmose III and
Hatshepsut.
PLATE 6 Map with images from Thera (Museum of Prehistoric Thera), Byblos, Abu Simbel, and
Napata/Gebel Barkal.
6
PLATE 7 Different visualizations of the finely engraved base design on a Phoenician green jasper
scaraboid.
PLATE 8 Left: Hieroglyphic inscription on Khonsu’s inner coffin lid. Nineteenth Dynasty, reign of
Ramesses II. Right: Hieratic script, a private letter, dated to the beginning of the Middle Kingdom.
7
PLATE 9 Knot of Isis.
PLATE 10 Cartouche of Hatshepsut offset along a fracture in tomb TT 110 in the Sheikh Abd el-Qurna
slump block.
8
PLATE 11 The Palestrina Mosaic of the Nile showing farmers, farm animals, and wildlife around the
islands of the Delta.
PLATE 12 Immunological and molecular techniques are now being used to identify evidence of epidemic
disease in ancient human remains. These processes require tissue samples, which can be obtained from a
mummy by using endoscopy (shown here), a virtually non-destructive investigative technique.
1
Introduction
Pearce Paul Creasman and Richard H. Wilkinson
Few societies in human history excite the mind as ancient Egypt does and,
indeed, has for millennia, but the popular concept of pharaonic Egypt as a
unified, homogeneous, and isolated cultural entity is misleading. The Egypt
of antiquity was, rather, a rich tapestry of social, religious, technological, and
economic interconnections among numerous cultures from disparate lands.
Foreign influence pre-dates the pharaohs, continued throughout their rule,
and saw the pharaonic period to a close. Although the Egyptians themselves
seemingly maintained an extremely “Egyptocentric” worldview, the glory of
the pharaohs would not have existed such as it did without the resources and
influence of the societies around them. However much the ancient Egyptians
may have looked down upon foreigners as culturally inferior peoples or as dan-
gerous agents of chaos, Egyptian society was on many levels deeply entangled
with those of its neighbors.
The connections between ancient Egypt and its wider world has long been
a topic of lively interest and study, but much remains to be explored. Most
book-length publications on the subject of Egypt’s relations beyond its borders
are tightly focused, typically on a geographical region, chronological period,
or mode (e.g., diplomacy or trade). Often, these works are written for the spe-
cialist academic reader, which renders them less accessible to a more general
readership not already in command of other specialist literature. Pharaoh’s
Land and Beyond: Ancient Egypt and Its Neighbors represents a comprehensive
effort to bring together, for a broad readership, the multifaceted aspects of the
interdependent, international agents, ideas, and forces that shaped Egypt and
its neighbors through the centuries.
Foreign influence within Egypt pre-dates the unification of the state, as does
the spread of Egyptian influence beyond its traditional borders of the Delta
and first cataract. Interconnections in the ancient world were dynamic and
fluid, crossing time, space, and cultures. The long period between the First and
1
2
2 { Pearce Paul Creasman and Richard H. Wilkinson
Thirtieth Dynasties, during which the Bronze Age arose and transformed into
the Iron Age, witnessed the flourishing of international trade across vast dis-
tances of land and sea. Desire for, and even dependence on, foreign resources
led in antiquity—as today—to concerns for security and by extension warfare,
but this period was also a nascent age of diplomacy and “international” art
styles. Coincident with the migrations and other travels of people with their
goods were exchanges of ideas and language and disease. Such socio-cultural
interactions occurred in an active geological context likewise subject to influ-
ence beyond its borders, as weather far to the south and natural catastrophes
elsewhere had profound impact on the fortunes of Egypt and its neighbors. The
scholars of Egyptology, Near Eastern studies, and related disciplines assembled
here explore Egypt’s fortunes in light of all of the above based on multifaceted
lines of evidence: the intertwined archaeological, artistic, and textual records
of some 3,000 years.
The chapters are arranged in five thematic groups. The first three chapters
detail the geographical contexts of interconnections through examination of
ancient Egyptian exploration, maritime routes, and overland passages. The next
three chapters address the human principals of association: peoples, with the
attendant difficulties differentiating ethnic identities from the record; diplomatic
actors, with their complex balances and presentations of power; and the military,
with its evolving role in pharaonic expansion. Physical manifestations of inter-
connections between pharaonic Egypt and its neighbors in the form of objects
are the focus of the third section: trade, art and architecture, and a specific case
study of scarabs. The fourth section discusses in depth perhaps the most power-
ful means of interconnection: ideas. Whether through diffusion and borrowing
of knowledge and technology, through the flow of words by script and litera-
ture, or through exchanges in the religious sphere, the pharaonic Egypt that
we know today was constantly changing—and changing the cultures around it.
Natural events, too, played significant roles in the pharaonic world: geological
disasters, the effects of droughts and floods on the Nile, and illness and epidemics
all delivered profound impacts, as seen in the final section.
Thus from the unique perspective of interconnections, Pharaoh’s Land and
Beyond provides insights into a wide scope of pharaonic culture. Many top-
ics are addressed here for the first time or for the first time from within such
a context. The editors present this volume as a foundation upon which future
work from similar frames of reference may build. And they hope, too, that this
volume will prove to be a valuable resource for scholars and students of ancient
Egypt and its contemporaries while remaining fully accessible to the enthusiast.
3
SECTION I }
Pathways
4
5
1 }
Finding the Beyond
EXPLORATION
Thomas Schneider
Introduction: Terrae Incognitae and Terrae Cognitae
Exploration has been defined as a determining part of human identity, an

innate human instinct. At the same time, exploration as a political and cultural
concept and practice is historically embedded in the European history of colo-
nialism and is today widely seen as symbolizing state power, scientific progress,
and national exceptionalism. In his exposé on the historical structure of the
ancient Near East published in 1965, Siegfried Morenz subscribed to this idea
of European exceptionalism when he credited the ancient Greeks with the will-
ingness to explore and to learn from abroad, a willingness that he regarded as
opposed to the Egyptian way of life. Although Morenz’s assessment can today
no longer be seen as valid, this still leaves the question open as to whether the
modern concept of exploration is applicable to ancient Egyptian expeditions
abroad or how it should be defined. In their introductory chapter to the volume
Mysterious Lands, David O’Connor and Stephen Quirke say about the opening
lines of one of the Egyptian guides to the underworld from the royal tombs in
the Valley of the Kings, the Amduat, that “the European expansionist claim
to possess time and space is alive here in the 15th century BC, but as knowl-
edge appropriate to divine kingship” (O’Connor and Quirke 2003, p. 2). This
is hardly the case. The deceased king of the Amduat is not the earthly king; his
knowledge as described there is that of somebody initiated into the mysteries
of the cosmos and not a knowledge instrumentalized for the colonization
and exploitation of the inhabited earth. While the terrae incognitae of the real
globe, of fiction, and of the underworld can certainly overlap, and while per-
ceptions about them can influence each other, this contribution will focus on
the Egyptian exploration of the physical world of the Mediterranean, Africa,
and the Middle East.
In the context of this volume, the editors describe “exploration” very broadly
as the acquisition by the Egyptians of knowledge about areas beyond ancient
5
6
6 { Thomas Schneider
Egypt’s own territory and civilization. To establish for Egypt the extent and
process of acquisition of the knowledge about what was “beyond Pharaoh’s
land” is exceedingly difficult for a variety of reasons. First, the reduced scope
and type of preserved evidence makes it in a very fundamental way impos-
sible for modern scholars to know what the Egyptians actually knew. Secondly,
it is also difficult because the nature of this knowledge must have been very
varied and will have changed over time, as did the locales and milieus where
knowledge could be acquired. Thirdly, what was seen as areas beyond ancient
Egypt’s own territory and civilization changed over time, both geographically
and culturally.
These introductory remarks will thus attempt to look at three fundamen-
tal questions: What are the limits of our modern knowledge about what
the Egyptians knew about the “Beyond”? How could knowledge about this
“Beyond” have been acquired by the Egyptians in the first place? And what was
the “Beyond” that the Egyptians would have found and explored? This chap-
ter will thus be not so much a description of the Egyptian exploration of ter-
rae incognitae, but an exploration of the challenges that modern research into
Egypt’s exploration encounters. Terrae (in)cognitae is therefore also a meta-
phor for our (lack of) knowledge of the Egyptian realm of knowledge of what
was beyond “Pharaoh’s land.”
Terrae Incognitae: The Limits of Modern Knowledge about

Egyptian Exploration
Our knowledge of the past is extremely fragmented. Paucity of evidence as an

epistemological problem determines all areas of the Egyptological endeavor.
This is also true for the topic of Egyptian exploration. New finds such as the Red
Sea harbors of Wadi el-Jarf and Wadi Gawasis, serving maritime expeditions
across the Red Sea and likely as far as Punt in the Old and Middle Kingdoms,
or the Abu Ballas trail leading from Dakhla Oasis in the Western Desert of
Egypt toward central Africa, attested in the Old and Middle Kingdoms, are
changing our perception of Egyptian exploration in a fundamental way (fig.
1.1). More specifically, they change the parameters in which we have to con-
ceptualize Egyptian exploration abroad. Oric Bates’s dictum of 1914 (p. 48;
MacDonald 2003, p. 100), claiming that “the whole of Africa west of the Nile
was, to the Egyptian, a terra incognita which stretched away from the familiar
haunts of men to the realm of the dead,” is more a reflection of the lack of
modern knowledge than of the absence of Egyptian knowledge of the Western
Desert. Similarly, David O’Connor and Stephen Quirke held in 2003 (p. 4)
that “Anatolia and the Tigris-Euphrates region appear to be terra incognita to
Egypt prior to the Late Bronze Age, when they play a dominant role in the
international relations for which correspondence survives in the form of the
7
Finding the Beyond: Exploration } 7
FIGURE 1.1 Map showing the chain of archaeological sites along the Abu Ballas trail.
Amarna Letters of the 14th century BC and similar material.” This statement
at the very least speaks about what “appears” to be the historical situation as
derived from the “surviving evidence.” It also pertains only to the time of the
Early and Middle Bronze Age, since late fourth millennium interaction between
Mesopotamia and Egypt is well documented in the artistic and intellectual rep-
ertoire. For the Middle Bronze Age, the objects of the long-known foundation
deposit of the Montu temple at Tod and a military campaign described on frag-
ments of records of royal deeds found at Mitrahina (both from the reign of
Amenemhat II, Twelfth Dynasty), as well as a passage in the Tale of Sinuhe
probably mentioning a royal title from Anatolia, may enjoin scholarship to cau-
tion, however. A recently found fragment of a letter sent to the Hyksos residence
at Avaris by one of the last kings of the First Dynasty of Babylon proves that
Middle Bronze Age correspondence from Anatolia and Mesopotamia to Egypt
has simply not been preserved. For the Old Kingdom, the lapis lazuli trade from
Afghanistan (fig. 1.2) across the Iranian plateau and Mesopotamia was chan-
neled to Egypt through Ebla in north Syria, where fragments of Egyptian stone
vessels would become deposited in Palace G. It is unlikely that the lapis lazuli
was traded to Egypt from the Far East without any accompanying knowledge
about its provenance and the mediating centers, and indeed, either the place of
8
FIGURE 1.2 Lapis lazuli inlay in the form of a falcon, New Kingdom.
origin or a main trading point of the stone is mentioned on a relief from the
time of Khufu. Is it on any account historically plausible that the full-fledged
bureaucratic state of the later Old Kingdom and the empire of Sargon of Akkad
were not interacting with each other? Sargon captured the Lebanon and reached
the Mediterranean Sea, where the Egyptian state had a trade emporium at
Byblos and was maybe involved more intensely; so rather than becoming known
in Egypt only in the Amarna Age, it is most probable that Sargon was well
known in contemporary Egypt. The inscribed clay tablets found at the Egyptian
western oasis residence of Balat/Ayn Asil seem to be indirect evidence for the
knowledge of cuneiform tablets in Egypt, and a more intense cultural influence
of Egypt on Mesopotamia has been suggested. These examples from the Early
and Middle Bronze Age, in support of the view that Anatolia and Mesopotamia
were by no means unknown to the Egyptians prior to the Late Bronze Age,
indicate that knowledge or absence of knowledge about the “Beyond” cannot
be determined by the coincidence of preserved evidence. It must instead rely on
arguments of plausibility that take into account the historical context and the
diminished state of sources.
Terrae Cognitae: How Would Egypt Acquire Knowledge about

the “Beyond”?
As John K. Wright outlined in 1947 (p. 2), “whether or not a particular area

may be called ‘unknown’ depends both on whose knowledge and on what kind
of knowledge is taken into account.” He continues (pp. 2–3):
9
As used literally on the early European maps, the words terra incognita
signified a land unknown to the map maker after he had presumably con-
sulted all available sources of information; but if such “unknown ter-
ritories” were beyond the ken of the geographers and cartographers of
Western civilization, they were known to their inhabitants, if any, and
frequently to peoples of other civilizations as well. […]
[…] Hence, depending on our point of view, there are personal, com-
munity, and national terrae incognitae: there are the terrae incognitae to
different cultural traditions and civilizations; and there are also the terrae
incognitae to contemporary geographical science.
The meaning of terra incognita depends no less on the kind of knowl-
edge that we are considering. There are two grades of geographical
knowledge: knowledge of observed facts and knowledge derived by
reasonable inference from observed facts, with which we fill in the gaps
between the latter.
The difference of observed and inferred knowledge is reminiscent of phi-

losopher Bertrand Russell’s distinction between knowledge by acquaintance
and knowledge by description. Knowledge by acquaintance is the “foun-
dational knowledge of truths,” while knowledge by description is ultimately
based on knowledge by acquaintance, too, but is mediated, indirectly acquired
through informants and intercalary sources. In ancient Egypt, exploration in
the form of military and trade expeditions would have been the primary means
to acquire observed knowledge, to which individual reconnaissance (e.g., by
royal messengers) and exploration from local bases (Egyptian trade emporia,
governors’ residences and garrisons) must be added (fig. 1.3).
The acquisition of such knowledge was carried out in the interest of eco-
nomic and political interests, although scientific interest is not absent. Animal
menageries served royal legitimation but at the same time also showcased fasci-
nation with and knowledge of the exotic. This was also believed to be true for
the “cabinet of curiosities” of Thutmose III, his botanical garden at Karnak,
with depictions of species of animals and plants from Egypt to Anatolia, Iran,
and the Caucasus, although it has now been suggested that those rooms with
their decoration may have been used ritually for priestly initiation into cosmic
knowledge. On a temple pylon at Armant from the reign of Thutmose III, a
rhinoceros brought to Egypt as booty is depicted, including the measurements
for its body and its horn. That manuals of foreign topographical knowledge for
military and administrative use existed can be inferred from topographical lists
of conquered towns and territories on temple walls, from onomastica, and a
document such as Papyrus Anastasi I that presents problems of military logis-
tics, the topography of Syria-Palestine, and incidents from an elite soldier’s life.
In past scholarship, Egyptian exploration would have often been portrayed
as following an evolutionary scheme, with the New Kingdom being most
10
FIGURE 1.3 The expedition leader, Iny.

1
engaged in international exchange and contact, most vividly highlighted by the

2002 book title Amarna Diplomacy: The Beginnings of International Relations
(Cohen and Westbrook 2000). It now appears plausible that the extent of
Egypt’s exploration was similarly robust throughout history until Egypt became
part of global empires in the first millennium, and that what differed was rather
the degree of appropriation and type of management of the territories behind
that frontier.
Precisely the archetypal example of Egyptian exploration abroad, iconic in
the history of human exploration, can be cited here to illustrate the revision of
views: the journey to the country of frankincense, Punt, on the Eritrean coast
of the Red Sea, as described and portrayed in great detail in the mortuary tem-
ple of Queen Hatshepsut at Deir el-Bahari. As late as 1988, Howard R. Lamar
(p. xi) singled it out as an example of the human heroic saga of discovery and
exploration:
Discovery, that is, the documented (e.g., on a map) initial contact with the
unknown, and exploration, the understanding of discovery, have together
constituted a heroic dimension of the human saga from its very begin-
nings. The first recorded expedition was sponsored by Queen Hatshepsut,
Bronze Age Egypt’s only female pharaoh, to Punt (Somalia) for the pur-
pose of trade in the middle of the fifteenth century BC.
Within the last years, an assessment of the Punt reliefs as authentic records
of the Eighteenth Dynasty has given way to a view of Hatshepsut merely align-
ing her trade mission with a tradition of Punt expeditions one thousand years
earlier. It seems now likely that the depictions at Deir el-Bahari were copied
from an Old Kingdom template. This is buttressed by Fifth Dynasty reliefs
of King Sahure at Abusir that may have belonged to a Punt expedition, apart
from the archaeological support provided by the newly discovered Wadi el-Jarf
harbor and textual evidence from the Fifth Dynasty. In her expedition to “the
god’s land” Punt, Hatshepsut thus emulated a historical precursor from the
distant past. She aligned herself with a tradition of exploitation to legitimize
her rule, not with exploration per se. Since Egyptian kings by definition were
rulers of “what the sun encircles,” a phrase attested first in the early Middle
Kingdom (Sinuhe B213; stele of Horus from the Wadi el-Hudi), and were “the
sun god by whose rays one sees” (Loyalist Instruction), exploration would not
appear to be a category of royal achievement although actually reaching those
distant regions of royal power and knowledge could have constituted a feat
of royal pride. In turn, traveling into foreign territory was a category of self-
presentation and achievement for private individuals, most famously the expe-
dition leaders of the Old Kingdom, and royal messengers in the New Kingdom.
Expeditions in the Old Kingdom were sent far into the (at the time, more hos-
pitable) southwestern desert, the Red Sea, and the Levant, part of a large state
system of revenue and trade featured in biographical accounts by expedition
12
leaders (most famously the expeditions of Harkhuf to Irem/Yam), to which

more recently, administrative documents can be added.
In the Middle Kingdom, the prototype of an Egyptian royal envoy abroad
is Sinuhe, the protagonist of a story who fled Egypt and had a successful career
in the Levant before returning to Egypt in his old age; he at the same time
set a literary model for living abroad within the well-explored and culturally
appropriated frontier. In the New Kingdom, as shown by the determinatives
used after place names (hieroglyphs that indicated the category of meaning of
a word or name), “to a certain extent, ‘Egypt’ and ‘abroad’ cease to be distinct
entities: the former has lost hierarchical prominence over the latter” (Loprieno
2003, p. 45). While the Egyptian army in this age reached and secured militarily
geographical areas never attained before, such as the Euphrates River in Syria
and the region of Kerma in the Sudan between the fourth and fifth cataracts of
the Nile, royal envoys in diplomatic missions traveled as far as the capital cities
of the Hittite and Babylonian empires. We can mention here Egypt’s ambas-
sador Netjeruimes (Nemtimes?)/Pirikhnawa, who brought the original silver
tablet with the Hittite-Egyptian peace treaty to Egypt, and the royal envoy Huy,
who “went up to Hatti and brought her Princess,” apart from Egyptian phy-
sicians, translators, and other specialists employed at the Hittite court. With
regard to envoys to Kassite Babylonia, Amarna letter EA 7 provides an unusual
“lesson in geography” (as labeled by Moran 1992, p. 13):
From the time the messenger of my brother ar[rived here], I have not
been well, and so on no occa[sion] has his messenger eaten food and
[drunk] spirits [in my com]pany… . [Furthermore], since I was not well
and my brother [showed me no] con[cern], I for my part became an[gry]
with my brother, saying, “Has my brother not hea[rd] that I am ill? Why
has he sho[wn] me no concern? Why has he sent no messenger here and
visi[ted me]? My brother’s messenger addressed me, s[aying], “(It) is not
a place close by so your brother can hear (about you) and send you greet-
ings. The country is far away. Who is going to tell your brother so he can
immediately send you greetings? Would your brother hear that you are
ill and still not send you his messenger?” I for my part addressed him as
follows, saying, “For my brother, a Great King, is there really a far-away
country and a close-by one?” He for his part addressed me [as] follows,
saying: “Ask your own messenger whether the country is far away and as
a result your brother did not hear (about you) and did not send (anyone)
to greet you.” Now, since I asked my own messenger and he said to me
that the journey is far, I was not angry (any longer), I said no [more].
Since the Babylonian Great King was most likely aware of the actual distance
in the first place, this letter can also be read as an ironical critique of Egyptian
royal pretense and an appeal to his status obligations. Does the Egyptian king
13
not claim to be the lord of the universe? And would he not do whatever was
in his power to prove that he was a great king? Explicitly, however, this letter
also attests to professional conversations among messengers and thus a net-
work of inferred knowledge about the “Beyond” that would allow for a more
global exploration by description. Such knowledge by description could, as
in this case, be gained abroad, but would often have been acquired in Egypt
itself, from people of foreign origin who resided temporarily or permanently
in Egypt. Egyptian society attests to a large immigration of foreigners on all
social levels, from kings and king’s wives to workers, who originated across
the Middle East, the Mediterranean, and northeast Africa (pl. 1). One of the
most intense exposures to knowledge about the “Beyond” on a state level was
likely provided in the New Kingdom by the foreign wives of Egyptian kings
from the Hittite, Babylonian, and Mitanni empires who moved to Egypt
with their entourage and households and thus arguably also carried with
them literary texts for their personal perusal in their own “Beyond,” which
was Egypt.
Knowledge about those regions is also indirectly reflected by the extensive
nature of technological and cultural innovation from abroad visible through-
out the second millennium BCE, from weaponry, textile industries, and glass
production to loanwords, borrowed literary texts, and adopted deities. The
“Beyond” provided narrative fiction—such as the Doomed Prince—with exotic
settings, and at times faraway regions such as Punt and the Aegean show up in
the artistic repertoire. This is testament to the wide-ranging degree of intellec-
tual exploration and the fact that Egyptian civilization had culturally appropri-
ated features of the “Beyond.”
Terrae Incognitae: What Was the “Beyond” that the Egyptians

Explored?
Egyptian political ideology maintained a strict distinction between Egypt and

the outside world, and between inhabitants of Egypt, who conformed with the
order perpetuated here by the pharaoh, and inhabitants of the chaotic world
beyond its boundaries. Ideologically, Egypt was defined by a strict model of
inclusion and exclusion that combined the existence or lack of acculturation
with the notion of territorial authority and power hierarchy. “Pharaoh’s land”
by this definition was restricted to the Nile Delta and Nile Valley up to Aswan
on the first cataract of the Nile, the country’s traditional southern border,
despite the fact that foreign culture proliferated within Egypt and Egyptian
culture abroad. If “exploration” pertains to knowledge of the unknown, then
the degree of knowledge determines if and when we can speak of exploration.
In that respect, the areas “beyond Pharaoh’s land” are as much part of a space
of knowledge and imagination as they are geographical areas.
14
In his classic book, The Great Frontier (1952), Walter Prescott Webb por-
trayed the relationship between the known world and the “beyond” as a
sequence of circles, of which the innermost circle, “the metropolis,” meant
Europe around 1500 CE, and the area between the metropolis and the limits of
knowledge were the “frontier”:
The inner circle represents the area of accurate knowledge. The outer cir-
cle represents the limits of knowledge. The area B [between the inner and
the outer circle, TS] is the region known of but not understood. It is here
that imagination has free play, that mystery and romance abound, that
inquiry and investigation go on. Gradually the inner circle is enlarged.
If it could expand until coterminous with the outer circle there would be
no mystery, little room for imagination and nothing to investigate. The
greater the distance x–y [the space of area B, TS] the greater the opportu-
nity for the imagination, literary and scientific.
(Webb 2003, p. 349)
The relationship between the “metropolis of Egypt” and its frontier was always
complex. At all times, Egypt comprised areas populated by non-Egyptian
groups behind its official political boundaries, such as the first Upper Egyptian
province north of the first cataract (“Nubian land”), the eastern mountains of
Egypt that continue to be populated by Bedja tribes today up to the geographic
latitude of Thebes, the western Nile Delta and the Egyptian Western Desert
with a large frontier zone of Egyptian, Libyan, and Nilo-Saharan interchange.
Large-scale immigration occurred from the frontier (as evidenced in the case of
the Nubian Pan-grave culture, as well as Palestinian settlement in the eastern
Nile Delta; both c.2000–1500 BCE). In turn, both Nubia (Lower Nubia since
c.2000 BCE, Upper Nubia since c.1500 BCE) and Palestine/southern Syria (since
c.2000 BCE) underwent substantial Egyptianization and became cultural and
political colonies of Egypt. The existence of topographical lists, onomastica,
and handbooks of topographical knowledge mentioned above indicate that
those regions had become well-known areas of knowledge and thus did no lon-
ger lie “beyond” as a target of exploration, although they could still be a source
of wonder and literary imagination (fig. 1.4).
This development is paralleled by a change in literary narratives, where the
border that the protagonist has to pass is no longer between Egypt and a for-
eign country, but rather between the “real” and the “imaginary” spheres. The
colonized areas were subjected to a system of political and economic exploita-
tion, formally implemented through a specialized administration of military
control and resource management. By contrast, areas such as the Eastern
Desert of Egypt were always an area of knowledge but still remained an area
beyond human civilization, “god’s land”, as they were called. They were the
place where miracles could occur (under Mentuhotep IV in the early Middle
Kingdom, inscriptions tell us about the miraculous appearance of a gazelle
15
FIGURE 1.4 Part of a topographical list. Luxor Temple, New Kingdom.
and a well in the midst of the desert) and where miraculous objects could be
found (like a petrified sea urchin found by a priest Tjanefer and described as a
“wonder”),
The actual area of exploration, the little-understood “Beyond,” had come to
lie beyond the frontier already claimed and acculturated, where one could sail
a river to the south but at the same time downstream (the Euphrates, inverse to
the Nile, in Mitanni territory) and where birds would be laying eggs every day
(chickens, as presented to Thutmose III in Lebanon by a Near Eastern country
whose name is not preserved). This was a space not necessarily beyond civiliza-
tion, but beyond either sufficient knowledge or understanding.
Where the actual limits of Egypt’s exploration must be drawn on a map is
impossible to determine, due to the limits of preserved evidence and modern
knowledge. New evidence keeps coming forth, such as the recently found first
Egyptian graffito in Saudi Arabia from the reign of Ramesses III, at the oasis
of Taima. At present, the farthest points from Egyptian territory for which
observational knowledge through Egyptians who were present at the place
can be ascertained are: to the southwest of Egypt, the Gebel Uweinat, at the
modern Egyptian-Libyan-Sudanese state border; to the southeast of Egypt, the
Eritrea coast of the Red Sea (the probable location of Punt); to the northeast,
Babylon (through the envoy mentioned in El Amarna letter 7); to the north
Tarhuntassa (where the Egyptian envoys to Hatti and other specialists were
16
sent). A famous topographical list of Aegean place names from the reign of
Amenhotep III also mentions, for the northwest, cities in mainland Greece
such as Thebes in Boeotia. In view of the extremely reduced situation of source
preservation, it is epistemologically unlikely that these coincidental mentions
of most distant places attested would be congruent with the most distant places
actually known to the Egyptians by personal observation or, even more so, by
indirect knowledge. There was very certainly a beyond known to the Egyptians
that was further than our current knowledge of Egyptian exploration.
The most famous text about ancient Egyptian exploration abroad, apt to
illustrate the problems highlighted in the previous pages, is the one preserved in
Herodotus’ Histories, about the circumnavigation of Africa allegedly commis-
sioned by Necho II in the Twenty-sixth Dynasty. Willi Müller (1891, pp. 109–
10) praised it as the climax of human exploration:
The history of geography, and in particular, of discoveries, is not short of
momentous events; never was there a lack of motives of the most noble
or less noble kind that impelled brave men to explore unknown parts on
our planet’s surface. Hardly, however, has there been or will there ever be
any deed greater than that Phoenician journey.
The account itself is recorded in Histories 4.42 and runs as follows:
As for Libya (= Africa), we know it to be washed on all sides by the

sea, except where it is attached to Asia. This discovery was first made
by Necos, the Egyptian king, who on desisting from the canal which
he had begun between the Nile and the Arabian Gulf, sent to sea a
number of ships manned by Phoenicians, with orders to make for the
Pillars of Hercules (= the Strait of Gibraltar), and return to Egypt
through them, and by the Mediterranean. The Phoenicians took their
departure from Egypt by way of the Erythraean Sea, and so sailed into
the southern ocean. When autumn came, they went ashore, wherever
they might happen to be, and having sown a tract of land with grain
waited until the grain was fit to cut. Having reaped it, they again set
sail; and thus it came to pass that two whole years went by, and it was
not till the third year that they doubled the Pillars of Hercules, and
made good their voyage home. On their return, they declared—I for
my part do not believe them, but perhaps others may—that in sailing
round Libya they had the sun upon their right hand. In this way was
the extent of Libya first discovered.
This claim is not supported by any other document, a fact that has made
scholars doubt its reliability: in the twentieth century, inscribed scarabs were
forged to provide the missing proof. While no independent proof for the
17
historical authenticity of the expedition can be provided, both the 1891 trea-
tise by Willi Müller and the recent reassessment by Jan Moje (2003) have
confirmed the basic plausibility of the account. From an epistemic point of
view, even our knowledge about the “metropolis,” Egypt itself, is dramati-
cally underdetermined. By definition, the frontier was situated outside the
realm of precise knowledge that was peculiar to the metropolis. It would
appear inconsequent to expect an Egyptian proof precisely for knowledge of
this realm beyond knowledge.
As we attempt to map Egypt’s knowledge of what lay beyond the pharaoh’s
land, we also map the modern scholarly frontier.
18
19
2 }
Paths in the Deep
MARITIME CONNECTIONS
Pearce Paul Creasman and Noreen Doyle
The ubiquity of boats in the iconography of the Predynastic and pharaonic peri-
ods underscores the importance of water transport for the ancient Egyptians.
Essential tools for the consolidation and administration of Egypt as a distinct
cultural and political entity along the Nile, wooden watercraft likewise facili-
tated the export of the royal will beyond Egypt’s borders, farther upstream on
the river and along the shores and sea-lanes of the Mediterranean and Red
Seas. These bodies of water provided Egypt and its neighbors with complex
flows of traffic ferrying people, animals, products, and ideas.
The Nile—generally navigable for 1,100 km between the first cataract at
Aswan and the Mediterranean shore—appears to be an ideal medium for uni-
fying the settlements that developed along its fertile floodplain. However, its
northward flow complicated long-distance upstream traffic. Efficient travel
had to be mastered in both directions to consolidate that vast length of river
into a single political unit. In the Nile Valley, the prevailing winds blow from
the north, that is, upstream, which presented Nile boatmen, and their rulers,
with an opportunity. Unlike some later nautical technologies, the sail (fig. 2.1)
probably developed on the Nile, rather than being introduced from elsewhere.
Although not strictly necessary for seafaring, the sail makes long-distance
transportation easier than human propulsion, which originally was paddling, a
technique that later developed into mechanically more efficient rowing. During
unification, armies and settlers, as well as materiel and intelligence, would need
to travel regularly in both directions; afterward, the river would facilitate the
exploitation and administration of resources. It can be no coincidence that the
Egyptians’ ability to harness the wind to propel a boat upstream evolved dur-
ing the Predynastic Period before or perhaps in tandem with the development
of the state.
19
20
20 { Pearce Paul Creasman and Noreen Doyle
FIGURE 2.1 The earliest known depiction of a sail on an Egyptian painted pot. Probably Naqada IIc.
Watercraft thus predictably feature in the earliest records of state formation

and kingship. Boats appear with the names of early kings in the mining regions
of the Sinai Peninsula, Eastern Desert, and Nubia. The Protodynastic Narmer
Palette, one of the earliest records of a king in control of both Upper and
Lower Egypt, features among its images a boat (behind a wooden door) above
two rows of decapitated foes. The inclusion of a watercraft here, as elsewhere,
informs the viewer that the king possesses the tools to impose and maintain his
will wherever necessary. A host of other lines of evidence paint a convincing
picture that Egypt had developed its nautical capabilities well prior to those of
neighboring societies. Indeed, the old hypothesis that a Mesopotamian group,
the “Followers of Horus,” found their way to Egypt via the Red Sea and estab-
lished the foundations of pharaonic culture in the Nile Valley has long been
discredited. Egypt’s early nautical developments, using native timbers, were
indigenous, and its first maritime connections, developed as it sought to exploit
territories beyond its geographical borders, were self-initiated.
Egypt’s earliest boat-borne influences may have come from and flowed back
to not the Near East but rather its neighbors on the Upper Nile, above the
first cataract. Egypt’s Predynastic proto-kingdoms had one or more coeval
counterparts among the Nubian A-Group peoples. One of the A-Group proto-
kingdoms was centered just north of the second cataract at Qustul. Two incense
burners found here are Nubian artifacts with iconography developed by their
Egyptian trading partners downstream, including a falcon deity perched on a
serekh, a palace façade, a man wearing the white crown, a harpoon, and two
21
Maritime Connections } 21
boats. One of these boats features an early example of a sail, very much like one
that appears on an Egyptian pot of late Naqada II (c/d) date (fig. 2.1). These
Nubian rulers deployed Egyptian symbols—including nautical iconography—
to express their own power.
Ties between the Nilotic states forming north and south of the first cataract,
which included exchanges of goods as well as ideas, were close but not entirely
peaceful. A petroglyph (fig. 2.2) at Gebel Sheikh Suleiman (near the second cat-
aract), likely of First Dynasty date, shows a prisoner bound with the glyph of
a bow (used in the writing of Ta-Seti, “Land of the Bow,” the earliest Egyptian
name for Nubia) before a falcon-mounted serekh. To the right of this group
are two “town” glyphs and a second prisoner tethered to a boat that seems to
pass over corpses of the (drowned?) enemy. Whatever the historical specifics of
its date and meaning, both of which are debated, this petroglyph demonstrates
the effective reach that the river gave even earliest Egypt: deep into foreign ter-
ritory, Egyptian kings could carry with them the power to confront and subdue
an indigenous population. This advanced nautical prowess facilitated the extir-
pation of the A-Group as the budding pharaonic state expanded and increas-
ingly administered its geographical holdings.
Judging the degree to which early trade between Egypt and its nearest Asian
neighbor, Canaan, was maritime in nature during such antiquity is difficult.
Egyptian trading colonies established in the Predynastic Period (abandoned in
the First Dynasty) might have been supported at least in part by the maritime
route, but no shipwrecks by which this likelihood could be evaluated are known
for any culture of this period. Nonetheless, pottery dating to the Proto-to
Early Dynastic Periods (Early Bronze Age I) of both Egyptian and Levantine
manufacture has been recovered from deep water off the coast of Israel, and
Egyptian pottery of this date has been found in Atlit Bay (Israel). Excavations
at Tel Ashkelon (Israel) suggest the existence of a port through which the prod-
ucts of sites farther inland entered a maritime trading network in the Early
Dynastic Period/Early Bronze Age I; however, rising sea levels and the seaward
FIGURE 2.2 Commemoration of an Egyptian victory in Nubia. Petroglyph at Gebel Sheikh Suleiman,

near the Second Cataract (Nubia). Probably First Dynasty.
2
extension of the Delta coastline have drowned and otherwise obscured the
Mediterranean shoreline of the Proto-Dynastic through Old Kingdom period,
along with many settlement sites of this time and later periods as well.
Lack of direct archaeological evidence notwithstanding, large-scale impor-
tation of Levantine/ Canaanite wine to Egypt at this period does suggest
conveyance by watercraft rather than caravans, simply as a matter of feasibil-
ity. Likewise, the importation of large pieces of non-native timber to Egypt
strongly suggests a robust maritime trade network. Smaller pieces of imported
coniferous wood, probably from the Levant or possibly Sinai, appear in earlier
contexts, but the First Dynasty king Aha had access to logs large enough to
provide his tomb with architectural beams some six meters long. In the Proto-
and Early Dynastic Periods, construction of increasingly large and more com-
plex monuments and other buildings in Egypt required larger timbers. At some
sites, the timbers are reported to have been of non-native genera (especially
conifers), and almost certainly these arrived in Egypt by ship. There were, very
likely, ports—Ashkelon among them—that served not only as points of trans-
shipment for inland products but as way stations for a trade route that extended
farther to the north, where the best quality timber was to be had. Similarly,
wood obtained from conifers growing in Sinai is likely to have been transported
across the Gulf of Suez by boat, as were the peninsula’s mineral resources.
By the end of the Second Dynasty, if not earlier, Egyptian kings shifted the
geographical center of their Asiatic interests northward of Canaan. Perhaps
lured by the availability of better coniferous timber and resins that played an
essential role in Egyptian rituals, and also by a decline in settlements along the
Canaanite coast (which may have had significant environmental causes), Egypt
made Byblos its major trading partner. A close relationship that would persist
through much of the pharaonic period formed. So deep was the association of
this port and its timber with Egyptian shipbuilding that the Egyptians called
some of their own vessels, including those that sailed the Red Sea, “Byblos
ships.”
Timber provides the most convincing evidence for early maritime trade.
Prized for its minimal shrinkage, ready workability with copper tools, resis-
tance to decay, and availability at lengths greater than other trees could provide,
the wood of Lebanese cedar (Cedrus libani) and other coniferous species that
do not grow in Egypt were heavily imported. The royal annals of the Palermo
Stone record the “bringing of 40 ships full of(?) coniferous wood” (int dpt
40 mḥ[?]‌ Ꜥš) during the reign of Snefru of the Fourth Dynasty. Byblos is gener-
ally assumed to be the source. Certainly at this time Egypt received substantial
volumes of Cedrus libani, which is not native to Sinai. More than 30 tons of
it had to be imported to build each of the two boats buried beside the Great
Pyramid at Giza, belonging to Sneferu’s son and successor, Khufu.
Egyptians likewise pursued their interests in resources available via the Red
Sea. Separated from the Nile Valley by the Eastern Desert, even the nearest
23
shore of the Red Sea was a land as foreign as any in the Levant. Until perhaps
the Ramesside Period, the Egyptian presence anywhere on these shores was
to one degree or another persistent but ephemeral: mission-specific outposts
that remained dependent upon the valley for even basic food supplies, although
local marine resources supplemented the diet. The earliest (secondary) evidence
for Egyptian ships operating on these waters comes from the region of the
southern Sinai turquoise mines, exploited first during the Naqada IIIa Period.
Here too, as in Nubia, Egyptian inscriptions feature boats, strongly suggesting
that ships crossed the Gulf of Suez to deliver expeditions even at this early time.
The Egyptians were not alone in occupying these lands. Although the region
lacked settlements such as those encountered along the Mediterranean shore,
local nomadic populations challenged the maritime expeditions, which were
putting additional pressure on precious subsistence resources and disrupting
the nomads’ own trade. An early expression of the situation from the Egyptian
point of view may be seen at Wadi Ameyra (a site 18 km inland from the Sinai’s
western coast). Here a graffito with the name of King Iry-Hor shows a boat
above a scene depicting the smiting of a bound captive, a northern echo of
the roughly contemporary graffito at Gebel Sheikh Suleiman (see fig. 2.2).
Defenses such as hilltop lookout positions and the small fortress at Ras Shamra
indicate the difficulties that the Egyptians continued to encounter in this region
during the Old Kingdom. The Sixth Dynasty autobiography of Pepinakht
Heqaib mentions that somewhere along the Red Sea shore nomads massacred
an Egyptian expedition that was constructing a Byblos ship destined for Punt,
a land far to the south.
Supporting Red Sea naval expeditions was more complex than doing so
for those that traveled up the Levantine coast. While the Nile Delta offered
water routes directly from the Nile Valley to the Mediterranean, Egyptian ships
had to reach the Red Sea overland, through the wadis of the Eastern Desert.
Accordingly, a driving philosophy behind Egyptian shipbuilding was ease of
disassembly and reassembly, so that ships could be carried, timber by timber,
across the desert. Indeed, the Red Sea-based maritime activities, which focused
on obtaining mineral resources and on long-distance trade, were so essential
to the Egyptians through the New Kingdom that their shipbuilders appar-
ently forwent certain construction techniques in order to retain the overland
transportability of their watercraft. Shipwrights are notoriously conservative;
ultimately, adherence to this tradition may have prevented native Egyptian
shipbuilders from applying certain technologies—such as pegged mortise-and-
tenon joinery, which Egyptian carpenters used in the construction of other
objects (including boat cabins) and which Egypt’s Mediterranean trading part-
ners used for ship hulls—that would have improved the carrying capacity and
performance of their ships. This failure to adopt very likely contributed signifi-
cantly toward Egypt’s reliance on foreign shipbuilding traditions and mariners
from the late second millennium BCE onward.
24
The earliest known Egyptian Red Sea port, at Wadi el-Jarf on the Gulf of Suez,
dates to the reign of Khufu (fig. 2.3). Situated about 150 km south of Suez, at
the eastern end of the Wadi Araba, Wadi el-Jarf took advantage of a local spring
for freshwater to support the port itself and the expeditions it launched in search
of the vast amounts of copper required for the tools used in the construction
of Khufu’s pyramid at Giza. It featured well-developed infrastructure, includ-
ing administrative buildings and a jetty that provided about 3 ha of protected
anchorage. In addition to constructing buildings near the shore, the Egyptians
cut long, narrow “galleries” into the neighboring hillsides. These artificial caves
served as workspace and as storage for supplies such as timber for future expedi-
tions. They became standard features of Red Sea port facilities. Nearly a hundred
abandoned stone anchors, some with inventory markings, attest to what must
have been seasonally intense and strictly controlled use of the port.
Wadi el-Jarf supported a coastal fortress across the Gulf of Suez, at Tell
Ras Budran, which in turn provided security and support for Egyptian mining
expeditions in Sinai. Construction of the fortress probably made use of a small
fleet of five or so boats to carry stone 4–6 km from a quarry. Wadi el-Jarf and
Tell Ras Budran enjoyed only a brief period of use. In the end, Wadi el-Jarf
was formally closed and supplanted by a location farther to the north, at Ayn
Soukhna, which was in use by the reign of Khafre.
FIGURE 2.3 The jetty at Wadi el-Jarf on the Egyptian Red Sea coast. Fourth Dynasty.
25
Ayn Soukhna, too, launched expeditions to the Sinai Peninsula, but this, or
its predecessor, may have also given Egypt its marine access to the land of Punt,
a region to the south and east of Egypt. Although the specifics of its boundar-
ies, which probably fluctuated, are subject to debate, Punt certainly included a
portion of the Red Sea coastline of Africa and very possibly of Arabia as well.
The Palermo Stone provides the earliest known textual trace of Punt, record-
ing, among other goods, the arrival of 80,000 measures of Punt’s most prized
export, Ꜥntyw (perhaps myrrh), during the reign of Sahure (Fifth Dynasty).
The decorative program of this king’s funerary complex includes imagery of a
maritime fleet just returned from the region with incense trees for transplant,
a practice that began no later than the reign of Sneferu, founder of the Fourth
Dynasty.
The Red Sea allowed the Egyptians to bypass intermediaries who controlled
the trading route(s) between Punt and the Upper Nile Valley in Nubia. This
river route was most likely the first way by which these regions connected,
and Puntite and other Sub-Saharan exotica—including Pygmies—continued
to flow into Egypt via the Nile. This was one of the many facets of Nubian
trade that prompted Old Kingdom rulers to directly dominate Lower Nubia.
A repopulation of Lower Nubia by descendants of the A-Group, referred to
archaeologically as the C-Group, began in the Fifth Dynasty, and in Upper
Nubia, the kingdom of Kerma was on the rise. The transportation and support
of Egyptian troops (for example, those stationed at the riverside fortresses at
Buhen and Kuban), as well as the extraction and conveyance of building stone
and other wealth obtained within or through Nubia to the Egyptian royal cen-
ters, were boat-intensive ventures. To facilitate them, in the mid-Sixth Dynasty
navigation canals were cut at the first cataract.
Egyptian trade with all of its neighbors dwindled as the Old Kingdom
declined into the First Intermediate Period. The autobiography of a local war-
lord, Ankhtifi, in his tomb at Mo‘alla (south of Thebes) declares the export
of barley from his territory to Lower Nubia, but Egyptian goods appear not
to have reached Upper Nubia. In the Admonitions of Ipuwer, a later Middle
Kingdom text perhaps reflecting back on First Intermediate Period circum-
stances, the failure of ships to sail to Byblos signifies how far Egypt had fallen.
While evidence of contact between Egypt and the Aegean during this time
suggests that Egypt’s maritime trade did not entirely cease, its ebb during this
period almost certainly resulted from the absence of a strong centralized state
entity. Currently there is little evidence that private individuals could amass
the resources—and, indeed, assume the risks—necessary to launch private sea-
borne trading ventures with regularity or on a large enough scale to compete
directly with the enterprises of kings and temples before the New Kingdom.
Seafaring endeavors carry an inherently high risk, as every ship that sets sail
may be lost.
26
With the reunification of Egypt and rise of the Middle Kingdom after a
century or so, vigorous exploitation of the seas and the upper reaches of the
Nile resumed. Middle Kingdom rulers sailed up the Nile “to vanquish Lower
Nubia” and even farther, into Kush, and they returned victorious on the cur-
rent. The establishment of a string of river fortresses—expanding on those of
the Old Kingdom—provided for a permanent Egyptian presence that could
once again exploit the regional resources and control trade. For example, after
a campaign in Nubia in his eighth year, Senwosret III ordered cleared what was
probably an Old Kingdom canal. This eased the transport of wealth resulting
from his expansion of Egypt’s reach into Nubia and enabled more efficient pro-
visioning of the fortresses. These were positioned along the river as far south as
Semna, at the southern end of the second cataract; Semna became a transship-
ment point beyond which no Nubian k ꝫi boats were allowed to travel unless
bound for the fortress at Mirgissa for trade. One portion of the second cataract
posed a particularly difficult navigational challenge. This began at Mirgissa,
so here the Egyptians undertook construction of a mud-surfaced, overland
slipway across the desert that ran perhaps 5 km northward. In operation for
centuries, it allowed teams of animals or men to drag watercraft around the
worst of the rapids.
Egypt’s naval power extended northward as well. In the Sixth Dynasty, ships
had delivered troops to a trouble spot in Canaan, and such naval activity in the
Levant resumed with the Middle Kingdom. In the late Eleventh Dynasty, dur-
ing the reign of Nebhepetre Mentuhotep, a ship-borne expedition overthrew
Asiatics in a place called Djaty (probably an Egyptian locality, but potentially
in Asia). Amenemhat I, first king of the Twelfth Dynasty, sent a fleet of twenty
warships built of coniferous (Ꜥš) wood against those who resisted the reunifica-
tion, possibly holdouts in the northeastern Nile Delta. The Mit Rahina inscrip-
tion of Amenemhat II describes the dispatch and return of several expeditions
along the Levantine coast, as well as the cargos (nominally tribute) and captives
with which they returned. Some of these traveled indisputably by sea. The sub-
stantial amount of Ꜥš wood brought back testifies to the continued Egyptian
need or desire for quality timber. Interestingly, this wood came not specifi-
cally from Egypt’s ancient trading partner Byblos but rather from Khenty-She
(probably Lebanon).
The nature of Egypt’s contact with some foreign localities is conjectural.
One of the place names in the Mit Rahina inscription is I ꝫsii, which has been
suggested as precursor of “Alashiya,” that is, Cyprus. Although the island lay
easily within the reach of Egyptian shipping technology of the period, evi-
dence for direct trade between Middle Kingdom Egypt and Cyprus is lacking.
Similarly, whether the exchanges that resulted in the presence of Aegean wares
in Egypt were primarily direct, with ships that traveled between the Aegean and
Egyptian Delta ports, or took place at an intermediary site such as Byblos, as
was likely the case in the Old Kingdom, remains a subject of much speculation.
27
The trade that Byblos itself enjoyed with Egypt was sufficiently important that
its rulers Egyptianized their titulary, monuments, and other significant aspects
of their worldview.
The renewed sea trade was a factor that spurred changes in settlement pat-
terns in the Levant. Here, during the Middle Kingdom (Middle Bronze Age
IIA), coastal sites came to dominate and once again draw material resources
from internal regions into the cycle of eastern Mediterranean trade. Egypt’s
participation in these networks resulted in archaeologically attested use of
Lebanese cedar for boats (fig. 2.4) and coffins, Asiatic and Aegean goods dis-
persed along the length of the Nile, and, to a lesser extent, Egyptian exports in
foreign locations. In Egypt, this economic growth benefited not only the king
but also an expanded bureaucratic class. However, the extremely Egyptocentric
nature of the Egyptian worldview likely accounts for a relative scarcity of
textual evidence for sea-based foreign engagement. Iconographic sources are
even rarer, although the funerary temple of Nebhepetre Mentuhotep at Deir
el-Bahri may have featured maritime scenes comparable those to his ancient
predecessor Sahure (at Abusir) and his much later successor, Hatshepsut (also
at Deir el-Bahri).
The Egyptians reestablished their Red Sea trade as well during this period.
Perhaps as early as the Eleventh Dynasty, coincident with quarrying expedi-
tions in the Eastern Desert, activity resumed at Ayn Soukhna, reopening the
Old Kingdom route to obtain the turquoise and copper of Sinai and to access
the southern Red Sea trade with Punt. But the flourishing nexus of Middle
Kingdom operations on the Red Sea became S ꝫww, the sheltered natural bay
available in ancient times at a site today known as Mersa/Wadi Gawasis, far
south of Ayn Soukhna. First used during the Old Kingdom, this site was
reached from Koptos via the Wadi Qena. As at other pharaonic Red Sea
ports, infrastructure included galleries cut into the limestone cliffs, but here no
FIGURE 2.4 Boat built of imported cedar. From the pyramid complex of Senwosret III at Dahshur,
now in the Egyptian Museum, Cairo; Twelfth Dynasty.
28
constructed architecture was provided other than shrines, which incorporated

stone anchors and the local coral conglomerate. Expedition personnel were,
instead, housed in temporary structures, perhaps tents. Administrative and
other texts reveal that the institutions and individuals responsible for support-
ing these expeditions extended beyond the palace to include the king’s funerary
establishment and the mayor of Thebes.
Finds of Canaanite and Minoan pottery hint that the crews might have
included foreign sailors. However, because the Minoan wares were found only
as votive offerings, Egyptians themselves might have deposited these objects,
as this practice is known elsewhere in Egypt. Nubians and southern Arabians
seem to have been present here, too, as indicated by cooking wares, although
their purpose (crew? traders? nomadic visitors?) remains open to conjecture.
Regardless of the specifics, even at a remote bay on the Red Sea shore without
permanent habitation, human activity had a distinctly international flavor.
Eventually the Red Sea facilities fell into disuse: as the Middle Kingdom
waned, so did Egypt’s maritime activities. No expeditions to Sinai are known
for this period after the reign of Amenemhat IV. At Ayn Soukhna, someone—
perhaps Egyptians, perhaps nomads—destroyed the timbers for two boats
stored in the galleries. But if Red Sea trade ceased in late Middle Kingdom,
Mediterranean did not.
In the northeastern Delta, a rival dynasty of Asiatics had taken hold.
Coexisting with the Egyptian Thirteenth Dynasty, this foreign Fourteenth
Dynasty might have had its capital at Avaris (Tell el-Dab’a), which would
become an important Nilotic port with access to the Mediterranean. Despite
this presence, the Thirteenth Dynasty was able to maintain its ties to the Levant,
including Byblos (from which it was able to obtain timber), but the wider east-
ern Mediterranean perhaps lay beyond its reach.
The Thirteenth Dynasty did, via the Nile, have direct access to Nubia and
its rich resources, but the Egyptians had begun to scale back their presence
there even in the Twelfth Dynasty. The burgeoning Kushite kingdom, centered
at Kerma, gained the loyalties of Egyptians who had lived for generations at
some of the Nubian forts, while Nubian populations settled into others that the
Egyptians had abandoned. Although the Thirteenth Dynasty had territorial
control over the Nile River Valley, the Kushites and the Fourteenth Dynasty
traded and even participated in diplomatic marriage.
The Second Intermediate Period that followed the Thirteenth Dynasty
is not well understood. Another Asiatic dynasty, the so-called Hyksos, now
ruled the northeastern Delta from Avaris. The Hyksos made significant ter-
ritorial advances southward but seem to have lost the river connection with
Kerma: native Egyptian rulers remained stubbornly in control of the Nile
between Abydos and the first cataract, but these dynasties, centered at Thebes
and briefly at Abydos, were effectively landlocked. An expedition through the
Eastern Desert to the Red Sea remained the only potential access for Egyptian
29
maritime traffic, and no evidence of Red Sea travel for this period has yet been
recovered.
But for the Hyksos, Mediterranean maritime trade flourished. For the first
time, Cyprus became a major trading partner with Egypt. In the harbor at
Avaris might be found “hundreds of ships of new cedar filled with gold, lapis
lazuli, silver, turquoise, bronze axes without number, apart from the moringa-
oil, incense, fat, honey, itrn-wood, ssnḏm-wood, spny-wood, and all their [other]
precious woods, and all the good products of Retenu (i.e., Canaan and Syria).”
This is the treasure captured by Kamose, a native Theban king who sailed his
navy from Upper Egypt to Avaris to vanquish his Hyksos rivals. It is telling
that one of Kamose’s acts against the Hyksos was destruction of every ship in
the harbor, not all of which would have been Hyksos. Whatever wealth foreign
polities might have lost during this violent reentry of a reunified Egypt into the
eastern Mediterranean, the resulting market would more than compensate. The
great international economy of the Late Bronze Age was about to blossom.
Nonetheless Egypt’s first major military push remained on the Nile: the sec-
ond king of the Eighteenth Dynasty, Amenhotep I, sailed upstream to seize
Nubia and thereby secure a stream of revenue—most importantly, gold—from
its nearest neighbor. Naval operations, which ultimately reached as far as the
fourth cataract, necessarily supported Egyptian campaigns that left the river
to penetrate the desert wadis in search of raw minerals. Amenhotep I’s suc-
cessor, Thutmose I, renewed a Middle Kingdom canal (itself perhaps an Old
Kingdom remnant) that had become blocked with stones due to neglect during
the Second Intermediate Period. With its southern border secured and passage
cleared, for the first time Egypt sought to control lands far beyond the Nile.
Records of Egyptian maritime contacts at this time are the most plentiful
in all of pharaonic history. Expeditions to Punt via the Red Sea played a sig-
nificant role in New Kingdom politics. Thutmose I’s daughter, Hatshepsut,
declared that the god Amun had ordered her to launch a Red Sea fleet to
reopen trade with Punt. This was part of an ambitious program of legitimation
for her rule that incorporated an array of domestic institutions: the priests of
Amun, the army, and the administration of Lower Egypt. Puntite incense and
other exotica brought back from the shores of the southern Red Sea benefited
particularly the cult of Amun and its growing social and political prominence.
Just as important, this grand maritime undertaking provided a practical exhi-
bition of her ability to exercise royal power. Successful organization of such
an expedition—ships, crews (sailors, soldiers, administrators), provisions—
could not be achieved by a weak monarch. The Punt trade continued through
subsequent reigns, but the religious pretext offered by Hatshepsut dissipated.
Her ships carried goods purported to be divine offerings, but by the reign of
Ramesses III in the Twentieth Dynasty, the Red Sea fleet sailed on trade mis-
sions “laden with the products of Egypt without number and of all kinds.” The
reappearance of Egyptian ships in the southern Red Sea may have spurred the
30
Puntites themselves to seek to trade with Egypt. Puntites had been known in
Egypt since they arrived on Egyptian ships in the Old Kingdom, but the New
Kingdom provides the earliest evidence that they might have traveled aboard
their own watercraft to either Egypt or a region controlled by Egyptians.
While Hatshepsut’s activities concentrated on the south, her co- regent
and stepson, Thutmose III, actively engaged in military exploits in the
Mediterranean region. He campaigned from the Sinai to as far north as modern
Turkey and far inland, beyond the Euphrates River in modern Syria. During
most of these campaigns Thutmose III used ships, including those captured in
enemy harbors. His army was even able to construct, or have constructed, in
the field boats that carts then transported (as individual timbers or perhaps sec-
tions) to the Euphrates riverbank, where the troops used them for crossing into
Mitanni. It is under Thutmose III, with his robust navy, that Egypt’s borders
reached their greatest extent.
The degree to which military operations in the Levant were naval—that
is, reliant on ships for transport of infantry, chariots, prisoners, booty, and
so on—is not explicit in the monumental texts that commemorate Egyptian
military campaigns there. The sea and foreign shores and islands appear in the
pharaonic vocabulary of dominance, which asserted that the Egyptian king’s
mastery extended over them. The extremes of these claims—domination of the
Aegean, for example—are rhetorical only, but they relied on a genuine poten-
tial represented by the Egyptian fleet. The ships that would have been employed
in either actual or metaphoric military engagements were not warships in the
later, Classical sense of, for example, triremes outfitted with rams; rather, they
were ships of logistics. The relatively scanty references to boats in the “Annals”
of Thutmose III likely belies their fundamental role in Egyptian successes in
eastern Mediterranean territorial expansion. Jar sealings found at sites along
the Ways of Horus (the land route that traced the coast between the northeast-
ern Nile Delta and the Levant) give the names of ships that must have plied
these waters. Such names, shared with military units, reflect a close associa-
tion between soldiers and their transports. To better administer Egypt’s hold-
ings in Asia, and to guard its vulnerable northeastern border, for much of the
New Kingdom pharaohs occupied royal cities in this region. The Ramessides
even moved the capital to Piramesse (Qantir), a harbor city immediately down-
stream of the old Hyksos city of Avaris on the Nile’s easternmost branch, the
Pelusiac, in the Delta.
The ships that came and went from these Nile ports were not limited to naval
vessels on military expeditions (fig. 2.5). Egypt was a significant economic par-
ticipant in the Mediterranean’s dynamic, multicultural maritime traffic both as
supplier (especially of gold and grain) and consumer (of almost everything).
The Late Bronze Age Uluburun shipwreck, lost off the southwestern coast of
Turkey in the second half of the fourteenth century BCE, provides the clearest
example of the complexity of maritime trade networks of this time. Study of
31
FIGURE 2.5 Syrian merchant ships arriving at an Egyptian market. Wall painting from Theban Tomb
162 (Kenamun); Eighteenth Dynasty.
the ship and its cargo has redefined our understanding of the vast interconnec-
tions in the eastern Mediterranean during the late Eighteenth Dynasty.
The ship was lost with a full cargo, consisting of thousands of items from
Cyprus, Greece, the Levant, Egypt, and other regions as far away as northern
Europe. It appears to have been a royal dispatch westbound from the Carmel
Coast (northern Israel) to a single but unknown destination, laden with a
rich cargo of both raw and manufactured goods. Exotic raw materials aboard
included glass ingots, ostrich eggshells, and hippopotamus tusks from Egypt.
The small but significant manufactured luxury cargo included gold jewelry (for
example, a scarab naming Nefertiti), worked ivory, beads of glass and faience,
and semiprecious stones. Bulk cargo included more “everyday” commodities
such copper (10 tons) and tin (1 ton), likely intended for bronze production, as
well as Cypriot pottery and various foodstuffs. The entire cargo appears to have
been under the escort of two armed Mycenaeans, likely aboard to see the ship
to harbor somewhere in the Aegean. While this ship was neither Egyptian nor
carrying an Egyptian crew nor intended for an Egyptian destination, the wreck
exemplifies the totality of interconnected life among Mediterranean cultures—
including Egypt—at the time. None lived, struggled, or thrived independent of
the others.
Egypt’s Mediterranean network was based on exchange with the Syro-
Canaanite coast (modern Lebanon and Syria) and the Aegean. While most of
this trade seems to have focused on ports in the Nile Delta, the site of Marsa
Matruh, far to the west in coastal Marmarica (near the modern border of
Libya and Egypt), demonstrates that even Western Desert nomads participated
directly in maritime transactions. At this isolated harbor, ships—seemingly
often of Cypriote origin—likely sailing down from Crete could stop to engage
in small trade and probably refit and resupply. During the reign of Ramesses II
and perhaps into that of Merenptah, the Egyptians established and maintained
at least one fortress along this coastline. Supported in part by deliveries that
arrived by sea, the fortress at Zawiyet Umm el-Rakham perhaps controlled the
coastal land route westward of Marsa Matruh, which new Libyan populations
32
might now have threatened. It is at Marsa Matruh, on Bates’s Island, that rare
evidence of private trade, undertaken by sailors or passengers accompanying
what were likely state-sponsored maritime missions, can be found. Such com-
merce must have been commonplace, but in the archaeological record it is all
but invisible.
Since the Egyptians were often engaged in hostilities in the Levant, the
Aegean connection became increasingly important. Although Egyptian trans-
port jars have been found in the Aegean only at the Cretan harbor of Kommos,
these two regions had established regular, direct trade by the early Eighteenth
Dynasty. This led to increased cultural and technological diffusion, well evi-
denced by archaeological finds in both areas. During the reign of Amenhotep
III, an Egyptian diplomatic mission traveled throughout the Aegean. The
Egyptians hired Aegeans as mercenaries and also appeared to provide them
with significant access for trade within Egypt. Several private Egyptian tombs
depict Aegeans (Minoans and Mycenaeans) presenting their goods in Egypt.
When not hostile to Egypt, Syro-Canaanite city-states were likewise allowed
substantial access to the Nile for trade. They, too, are depicted in tombs, con-
ducting ship-based trade in the heart of Egypt.
The appearance of foreign merchant ships in Egyptian tombs largely ignores
the export activities of Egyptian ships and crews. Export tends to be neglected
in iconography focused on expressing what was coming into Egypt. The Papyrus
Harris I hints at the extent of the Egyptian merchant fleet under Ramesses III
not only with its description of Red Sea ships laden with goods but also with its
mention of more than eighty seagoing ships of different types, complete with
crews, granted to the temple of Amun in Thebes. These ḳrr, mnš, and b ꝫr ships
were to “transport the goods of the land of Djahy [i.e., Asia] and lands at the
ends of the world” to the temple treasury. These ships explicitly carried armed
contingents. The conditions in which international commerce took place in the
eastern Mediterranean were changing.
Texts and temple reliefs from Medinet Habu dating to the eighth year of
Ramesses III’s reign depict a great naval battle in which foreign tribes con-
ventionally called the “Sea Peoples” attempted to invade but met with defeat.
A conglomeration of ethnic groups from the Aegean and Anatolia, the Sea
Peoples had threatened shipping in the region for generations. This particular
battle may have taken place in the lagoon at the end of the ancient Pelusiac
branch of the Nile, near the fortified site of Tell el-Borg on the Ways of Horus.
The commemorative scene of the battle, a relief on an outer wall of Ramesses
III’s temple at Medinet Habu, depicts the Egyptian navy visually as ships of
perhaps foreign influence manned by foreign mercenaries. (The scene shows
only one of the three Egyptian ship types—perhaps the ꜤḥꜤ—specified in the
accompanying text.)
The presence of foreign shipwrights and sailors in New Kingdom Egypt is
little doubted. The worship of Baal and Astarte at Perunefer, a (or the) major
3
harbor of the New Kingdom, suggests the involvement of Levantine individu-

als in operations there even during the mid-Eighteenth Dynasty, for example,
but the degree to which Egyptian shipbuilding at this period had adopted sig-
nificant foreign elements remains uncertain. No seagoing ships from the New
Kingdom, Egyptian or otherwise, have yet been recovered in Egypt.
Despite Ramesses III’s Red Sea fleet, during this time maritime trade with
Punt dwindled, perhaps as overland routes down the Arabian Peninsula took
precedence. Half a millennium later, Punt was little more than legend.
The literary composition known as The Report of Wenamun provides fur-
ther evidence of the disintegration of Egyptian maritime capability and con-
sequent dominance by Egypt’s former vassals. Set at the opening of the Third
Intermediate Period, it purports to be an account written by an Egyptian priest
who meets with robbery and further disrespect while on a mission to obtain
timbers to build a sacred boat. His treatment at the hands of local rulers and
the difficulty he experiences in his mission at Byblos suggest that Egypt’s navy
posed no credible threat, nor was its maritime trade particularly valued, even
by its longtime partner.
During the Late Period, a series of invasions often with naval components
resulted in a periodic succession of foreign rulers laying claim to Egypt. Ships
were instrumental in the subjugation of Egypt by Piye of Kush, and, later,
by Ashurbanipal of Assyria. The native Egyptian kings of the Twenty-sixth
Dynasty regained some of Egypt’s former maritime status, but only with the
aid of foreign mercenaries and shipbuilding technology in the form of war-
ships, including triremes. International trade, highly regulated and carried
out chiefly by Greeks and Phoenicians, formed an important component of
Egypt’s flourishing economy; trading settlements, including notably Thonis
(Herakleion) and its upstream counterpart, Naukratis, through which Greek
trade was obligated to pass, were established in the Delta during this period.
In the 6th century BCE Egypt fell prey to the Achaemenid Persian Empire,
which likewise had Greek warships and crews among its forces. So that ships
might travel directly between the Persian Gulf and Nile River, Darius I com-
pleted a canal between the eastern Delta and the Red Sea, a feat of engi-
neering perhaps initiated and abandoned in the Twenty-sixth Dynasty. This
endeavor seems to have contributed little to Red Sea commerce and likely
played a greater political and military role. International trade continued to
thrive not only through the Delta but also at the Nubian border; documents
written in Aramaic reveal details of private, state, and temple shipping ven-
tures at Aswan (Elephantine), a cosmopolitan community that in this period
included Persians, Jews, Carians, and others. This First Persian Occupation
was followed by less than a century of native Egyptian rule during which
international maritime trade was again strictly administered and taxed
and the Mediterranean coastline was increasingly fortified. Nonetheless,
the Persians reclaimed Egypt, but only for a decade or so; in 332 BCE they
34
succumbed to the overland advance of Alexander the Great and his sup-
porting fleet. Claimants to the pharaonic tradition, Ptolemaic Greek rulers
would give Egypt the largest navy in the region (purportedly 1,500 ships), its
farthest reach of direct trade (India), and its most famous maritime accom-
plishment (the lighthouse of Alexandria).
Thus Greek and other foreign seafaring practices largely eclipsed those
that had developed on the Nile, but Egypt’s coveted glory—which remained
undiminished until its loss at the naval battle of Actium in 31 BCE reduced the
kingdom to a Roman province—was the legacy of its most ancient pharaonic
maritime traditions.
35
3 }
Pathways to Distant Kingdoms

LAND CONNECTIONS
Gregory Mumford
Introduction
Despite Egypt’s frequent exploitation of the Nile, its diverse other waterways
(e.g., lakes, ponds, marshes), and the Red Sea and Mediterranean for local
through long-distance interactions with the surrounding world, the Egyptians
and other peoples actually used overland routes quite commonly and increas-
ingly for passage between a broad network of near-to-distant regions, polities,
and peoples, often combining riverine, maritime, and overland transport (e.g.,
portaging boats around impassable stretches in the Nile; ferrying personnel
across rivers, lakes, and sea). Although the nature, scope, routes, and carriers
of overland interactions changed over time, from prehistory to the pharaonic
period (and later), these local through long-distance ventures included such
objectives as obtaining and redistributing non-indigenous raw materials and
products, mining metals and minerals, quarrying stone, prospecting for new
resources, scouting and securing key areas and regions (e.g., desert patrols),
maintaining communications (e.g., keeping in touch with remote garrisons,
desert patrols, and expeditions), diplomacy (e.g., dispatching regular messen-
gers and special emissaries; escorting foreign dignitaries, princesses, and their
entourages to Egypt), trade, transitory military activities (e.g., small- scale
raids, campaigns), and long-term settlement and colonization (i.e., imperialism
in Nubia, the Levant, and western oases). The means employed for traveling
overland also varied widely according to the specific locality, distance, time
period, and their varying requirements, including foot traffic, transportation in
litters, chariots, and other vehicles, riding donkeys, horses, and (later) camels,
and utilizing porters, pack animals, and ox-drawn sleds, carts, and wagons for
carrying heavy loads. The types of overland routes, terrain, and cultural land-
scapes varied greatly too, ranging from deserts to savannah lands, marshes,
forests, cultivated lands, and plains and mountains, encompassing infrequent
to well-traveled ways, natural and prepared roadways, and traversing routes
35
36
36 { Gregory Mumford
with minimal natural amenities (e.g., springs, oases) to better-appointed trails

containing artificial wells, way stations, forts, villages, towns, and cities. This
paper examines Ancient Egypt’s land connections and relations with Nubia
and sub-Saharan Africa, the Western Desert, Eastern Desert, Sinai, Arabia,
and Near East, providing a synthesis on the diverse land routes, travel, travel-
ers, objectives, interactions, and commodities exchanged between Egypt and its
neighbors, and addresses some changes in the relations between these regions
during the Predynastic through pharaonic periods.
***
Egypt interacted with its neighbors using different and frequently complex
routes that combined land and water travel across northeast Africa, Arabia, and
the Near East (southwest Asia). The routes varied and changed, and included
complex networks of alternate and separate trails running parallel to and away
from the Nile: trails traversed Nubia and parts of sub-Saharan Africa; over-
land paths headed into the Western and Eastern Deserts, and crossed the Sinai
Peninsula; some land routes incorporated maritime stretches across the Red
Sea and east Mediterranean to reach Arabia, parts of sub-Saharan Africa (e.g.,
Punt), the Levant (Syria-Palestine), and more distant regions (e.g., Anatolia,
Mesopotamia). A wide range of peoples, materials, and products traveled these
routes and regions, both departing from and entering Egypt, with merchants and
others carrying commodities that might originate ultimately from a single source
(e.g., Sinaitic turquoise; lapis lazuli from Afghanistan), or multiple sources
(e.g., copper from the Eastern Desert of Egypt and Nubia, south Sinai, Timna,
Feynan, Cyprus, and elsewhere), often incorporating a complex history of past
re-dispersals, ownership, and recycling of various materials and products.
Nubia and Sub-Saharan Africa
Although the Nile played a major role in Egypt’s relations with Nubia and parts
of sub-Saharan Africa in past millennia, overland travel served a significant role,
often in conjunction with riverine transport, but also separate from it (pl. 2).
Although Egypt desired the various metals, minerals, flora, fauna, and people
available in and via Lower Nubia, Egyptian travel through and often control of
this region provided more direct access to Upper Nubia and sub-Saharan Africa
(e.g., Yam, Punt, and elsewhere), which furnished greater quantities and more
diversity of such wealth, plus choice aromatics and other exotica. During the
Predynastic through pharaonic periods, Egyptians, Nubians, and desert tribes
utilized several overland routes between southern Egypt and Nubia (e.g., Darb
el-Arbain, Elephantine to Sai Island via Selima Oasis), a number of trails from
the Nubian Nile to the adjacent desert resources and other destinations (e.g.,
Kubban to Wadi el-Allaqi, Toshka to diorite quarries), and trails that bypassed
37
Land Connections } 37
several bends in the Nile (e.g., Meheila Road from Kawa to Gebel Barkal/Nuri,
Bayuda Road from Nuri to Meroe, Wadis Allaqi and Cabgaba from Kubban
to Kurgus). Many Old Kingdom expeditions to Nubia from Elephantine used
donkey caravans to head upstream along the Nile, going through less hospi-
table, arid, narrower, and stony flood plains, bypassing less navigable stretches
of the Nile (e.g., the cataracts), and sometimes encountering hostile popula-
tions. In some cases Egyptian missions went overland through arid wastelands
to several oases, diorite quarries (Gebel el-Asr), gold mines, and other destina-
tions in the adjacent deserts and hill country (e.g., Harkhuf’s “Oasis Road”).
Egypt controlled and colonized Nubia increasingly during the Middle and New
Kingdoms, while in post–New Kingdom Egypt, the Kushites of the Twenty-
fifth Dynasty ruled Egypt, intensifying interactions between both cultures. The
early Saite kings may have held Lower Nubia, while Psamtik II dispatched a
transitory military expedition, including overland segments, as far south as
Gebel Barkal in Upper Nubia. Regarding Punt (most likely in/near Eritrea),
some pharaonic maritime expeditions along the Red Sea, such as Hatshepsut’s
famed Eighteenth Dynasty expedition, disembarked and headed inland, navi-
gating forests and hills to harvest aromatics, transplant myrrh trees, fell trees,
and obtain other inland, Puntite resources (e.g., minerals, metals, animal skins).
In Third Intermediate Period, Kushite, and Saite Period inscriptions, contact
with Punt is implied by references to myrrh from it, while one assumes long
distance interactions entailing both ships and overland passage into the moun-
tains via either the Red Sea or eastern Sudan and Eritrea.
EGYPTIAN EXPORTS
Egyptian exports to Nubia varied, fluctuated, and increased generally over

time. Beginning in the Predynastic to Early Dynastic Period, much Egyptian con-
tact appears in Nubia: pottery containers (for grain, wine, beer, dairy prod
ucts, and vegetable oils), stone vessels, stone incense burners (e.g., the famed
Qustul example), cosmetic utensils (e.g., palettes, unguent jars), weaponry
(maceheads, axes), jewelry (e.g., beads, amulets), copper tools (e.g., chis-
els, adzes, fishhooks, harpoon points), and other things, people, and influ-
ences. By the Old Kingdom, Egypt had established a fortified settlement for
trade and copper working at Kor (Buhen South) near the second cataract,
with further activity at Sai (south of the second cataract) and the Gebel al-
Asr diorite quarry (to the west). A late Old Kingdom Meidum bowl sherd
appears at Laqiyat al-Arba’in in northwest Sudan, suggesting further over-
land interactions. In the Middle Kingdom Egypt annexed Lower Nubia,
building pairs of fortified settlements along the Nile, and exploited the
adjacent deserts for gold, copper, stone, and other resources. Egypt secured
Lower Nubia with strategic walling systems at Aswan and the second cat-
aract, multiple forts in the second cataract region, overland slipways for
38
bypassing cataracts (e.g., Mirgissa), and alternated between trading with

and periodically fighting the kingdom of Kerma (Kush/ Upper Nubia).
Egyptian items actually increased at Kerma in this period, including much
pottery, stone containers, cosmetic sets, bronze utensils, daggers, and other
items, suggesting mostly peaceful and flourishing relations. During the
Second Intermediate Period, Egyptian artifacts and influence continued in
Lower Nubia, with a greater Nubian presence and material culture among
the Egyptian residents in the second cataract forts, which had switched alle-
giance to the ruler of Kush; Egyptian material culture also reached Kerma
and elsewhere in Upper Nubia, consisting of trade items, booty, gifts, art
and architecture, and probably Egyptians. The Classic Kerma city and cem-
etery contain much Egyptian material (e.g., pottery), including statuary and
other items probably looted from Lower Nubia and southern Egypt (late
Seventeenth Dynasty), plus Hyksos scarabs and Levantine and Aegean
pottery. The Kermans also adopted some superficial Egyptian-type forms,
motifs, and customs in architecture (e.g., a temple, palace, some burials),
construction (e.g., vaulting), decoration, sculpture, furniture, jewelry, uten-
sils, and other artifacts.
At the advent of the New Kingdom, Egypt re- occupied the Middle
Kingdom forts in Lower Nubia, creating temple towns and colonies and
absorbing the indigenous populace. Egypt expanded settlement in Upper
Nubia, but it remained less Egyptianized and more autonomous. The
Egyptian state continued exploiting Nubia’s Western and Eastern Deserts,
building wells, shrines, temples, and other installations along desert trails
such as Wadi el-Allaqi. New Kingdom pottery and other items (e.g., seals,
calcite vessels) are also found at riverine and inland sites 200–700 km south
of Egypt’s frontier at Kurgus, to the south and east of Khartoum at Jebel
Ardeb, Khor Shangerite, the northern Gabati Plain, Isnabir, Doleib Hill,
the Gash region, Mahal Teglinos (near Kassala in eastern central Sudan),
and elsewhere. By the late Ramesside period Egypt’s occupation of Nubia
retreated rapidly toward Aswan. In the post– New Kingdom (Napatan-
Meroitic) period, Egyptian- type architecture, statuary, art, iconography,
material culture, and other influences emerge in an autonomous Nubia,
including temples (e.g., Gebel Barkal), religion and deities (especially the
Amun cult), and other components; Egyptian-derived pyramid tombs and
chapels are used by Napatan royalty, featuring sarcophagi, religious texts,
canopic jars, perhaps mummification, shabtis, scarabs, and other artifacts,
with potential exports and influence much farther south, and to the east in
Eritrea (e.g., faience amulets, calcite alabastra). These Egyptianizing traits
continue into the Meroitic period, with Egyptian/Napatan-type amulets and
other artifacts reaching distant inland and riverine sites over 250 km south
of Khartoum, such as Gebel Moya (35 km west of the Blue Nile), Abu Geili,
Sennar, and elsewhere.
39
AFRICAN IMPORTS TO EGYPT
During late prehistory through the pharaonic period (and later), Egypt received
a wide range of items from Nubia and sub-Saharan Africa (e.g., Yam, Punt),
including exotic lumber (e.g., African blackwood; cork wood), transplanted
aromatic trees, resins, plants, live animals, animal byproducts, metals, build-
ing stone, obsidian, precious and semi-precious stones and minerals, weaponry,
utensils, musical instruments (e.g., drums), pottery vessels, leather containers,
basketry, furniture, jewelry, and people (e.g., Pygmies; captives; migrants). Many
of these items often reflect multiple sources (Nubia, Punt, sub-Saharan Africa,
elsewhere) and diverse transmissions via caravans, ships, and combinations of
waterways and overland segments in their delivery to Egypt.
The Western Desert and Beyond
Egypt’s relations with the Western Desert (pl. 2) extend far back into prehistoric
times, when much of this region was wetter and contained savannah land, while
reduced and fluctuating interactions with the Sahara and sub-Saharan Africa
continued during the increasingly drier and less hospitable pharaonic and later
periods. Aside from ancient Egypt’s exploitation of the Western Desert’s adja-
cent fringe for burials and quarries, many Egyptian expeditions went much
deeper into the Sahara, navigating a range of environments consisting of arid
plateaus, sand dunes, hill country, and valleys, including springs, oases, and
nomadic desert tribes. Several primary routes and destinations exist by the
Old Kingdom and later, including: (1) traffic to Wadi el-Natrun, Khargeh,
and Dakhla oases (e.g., Darb el-Tawil route from Beni Adi to eastern Dakhla
Oasis); (2) a north–south network of trails traversing these oases to Nubia
(e.g., Darb el-Arbain); (3) other more remote routes, such as the Abu Ballas
trail leading to Gilf el-Kebir and perhaps northeast Chad and sub-Saharan
Africa, and another pathway from Sai to Wadi Uwaynat (which contained
a text of Mentuhotep II). Second Intermediate Period and New Kingdom
traffic and routes intensified across the Western Desert, and expanded along
the Mediterranean coastline to Marsa Matruh (e.g., Bates’s Island), includ-
ing Ramesside forts (e.g., Kom Firin, Zawiyet Umm el-Rakham). Post–New
Kingdom and Late Period trails led increasingly to settlements in Farafra
Oasis, Siwa Oasis, and Cyrene (Twenty-sixth Dynasty). However, prior to the
Ptolemaic–Roman period, the ancient Egyptians apparently seldom traveled
farther west than these oases (including Wadi Uwaynat and perhaps Gilf el-
Kebir). Instead, Egypt relied mainly upon intermediaries and other networks
to reach Kufara Oasis, Cyrene, and other distant places.
Egypt’s direct interactions with the Western Desert are still being clarified
but involved fewer sources of stone, minerals, and metals than the Eastern
40
Desert (see below). The ancient Egyptians do not appear to have traversed or
settled the Western Desert and its oases until mainly the Old Kingdom (and
later). Instead, various semi-nomadic indigenous peoples (e.g., Sheikh Muftah
culture, Dakhla Oasis) served as the main means of early communication and
trade with the Nile Valley during the Predynastic (c.5000 BCE) through early Old
Kingdom (and in other periods as well). Around 3000 BCE, the Sheikh Muftah
culture (Dakhla Oasis) and affiliated desert peoples ranged widely throughout
the eastern Sahara. Their activity is attested via “Clayton rings” (enigmatic
small pottery tubes and perforated disks) found at oasis sites, along Western
Desert routes, and some Eastern Desert localities. In the late Old Kingdom, the
Abu Ballas Trail may have extended to Gebel Uwaynat, and possibly onward
as an alternate Egyptian overland route to Yam in Nubia. This trail features
a series of depots spaced roughly three days’ journey apart (75–90 km) and
stocked by donkey caravans with a few dozen to sometimes hundreds of large
pottery jars (mainly for storing about 30 liters of water, but also attested hold-
ing barley and perhaps other provisions), alongside occasional baskets of
locusts and other items, to enable travel across an otherwise mostly barren
landscape. A few depots also contained temporary shelters, hearths, bread vats,
drinking cups, flint tools, and Senet game boards. Egyptian activity increases
in the Middle Kingdom (e.g., cultivating the Fayum) and New Kingdom, while
traces of a New Kingdom temple lie beneath a Late Period temple at Hibis in
Kharga Oasis. In the Late Period, Egypt expanded its Western Desert activities,
building temples in Kharga, Dakhleh, and elsewhere, and influencing the indig-
enous peoples in Siwah Oasis: Egyptian architectural and decorative elements
are evident in a small chapel and mortuary temple built for the Ammonian
ruler, Wenamun, at Umm Ubaydah (temp. Nectanebo I–II), but it was built by
Greek stonemasons and artists from Cyrenaica. In contrast, both the Egyptian
and Greek languages were reportedly used in Late Period Siwah.
EGYPTIAN EXPORTS
During much of the pharaonic period, Egyptian Nile Valley culture is trans-
planted to and flourished in key localities in the Western Desert oases, includ-
ing the establishment of Egyptian administrative and related settlements at
Ayn el-Gazzareen (near el-Qasr), Mut el-Kharab, and Balat (Dakhla Oasis),
Hibis (Kharga), and elsewhere. Egypt also interacted with the indigenous peo-
ples of the oases and surrounding desert. Egyptians settled increasingly in key
places in the Western Desert, utilizing seasonal camps, small outposts, police
patrols, and large fortified settlements with administrative quarters, housing,
workshops, shrines, tombs, and a full range of material culture such as at Balat
in Dakhla Oasis during the late Old Kingdom and subsequent periods. These
Egyptian residents initially brought much of their material culture with them
and settled, utilizing both local fabrics (oasis ware) and provisions alongside
41
continuing influxes of Nile Valley technology, products, commodities, and

culture.
WESTERN DESERT IMPORTS TO EGYPT
In the later Holocene, during which the Western Desert had a wetter and more
savannah-type environment, cattle domestication occurs in Nabta Playa and
the Western Desert in general. During the post-Holocene period of increasing
aridity, such innovations, plus apparently some sub-Saharan flora and migrants,
shifted to and settled in the Nile Valley. The oases remained fairly fertile in fauna
and flora, however, and served as rich resources for the Nile Valley in phar-
aonic times. The Middle Kingdom Tale of the Eloquent Peasant summarizes
the typical oases products sent to the Nile Valley from both the Wadi Natrun
(Sekhet-Hemat /“Field of Salt”), and other Western Desert commodities: salt,
natron, stones, wood from Hestiu?-country, reeds, many types of plants, herbs,
berries(?), inst-seeds, birds, animal hides, and staves of Ta-Menment (“Cattle
Country”: Farafra Oasis). Additional typical Western Desert exports known
in the pharaonic period include various types of salt, some wood, plants (e.g.,
silphium), diverse agricultural products, especially wine, mineral pigments,
“shining stone” (ṯḥnt), Libyan “desert glass” (perhaps mf ꝫt?), livestock (e.g., sheep
and goats), animal byproducts (e.g., leopard skins; ostrich eggs and feathers), and
some finished products (e.g., decorated containers). Sub-Saharan products were
also obtained via the Western Desert and included such things as gold, ivory,
ostrich feathers, and perhaps slaves, all of which are attested in trans-Saharan
trade in the late pharaonic through more recent periods.
The Eastern Desert and Beyond
The ancient Egyptians utilized the adjacent Eastern Desert (pl. 2) for burial
grounds and quarries along its fringes (e.g., Tura, Gebel el-Silsila), but forged
much deeper into its wadis and hills to quarry stone, mine metals and minerals,
and hunt wild game. Despite its misleading appellation, the Eastern Desert hill
country and valleys also contain a wide range of fauna, flora, springs, oases,
and Bedouin residents. Multiple wadi networks offered natural, hard-packed,
stony “roadways” and access to the Eastern Desert’s resources, including a
series of interconnecting valleys from (1) Memphis/Helwan to Ayn Soukhna,
(2) Beni Suef and Wadi ‘Araba to Wadi el-Jarf, (3) Koptos and Wadi Qena to
Gebel Zeit, (4) Koptos via Wadi Hamama to Safaga (near Mersa Gawasis),
(5) Koptos and the Wadi Hammamat to Quseir, (6) Edfu to Mersa Alam,
(7) Kom Ombo to Mersa Alam, and (8) Elephantine to Wadi el-Hudi. In addi-
tion, many expeditions traversed the Eastern Desert to reach key points along
the Red Sea coastline (e.g., Ayn Soukhna, Wadi el-Jarf), from which they often
42
crossed the Red Sea to el-Markha Plain in south Sinai, and resumed overland
travel to mine copper, malachite, and turquoise inland at Wadi Maghara, Wadi
Kharig, and Serabit el-Khadim. Other Red Sea destinations included the south-
ern Arabah (Ramesside Atika?), Eritrea /northern Ethiopia (Punt), and perhaps
Arabia (via Mersa Gawasis), which incorporated both maritime and overland
routes. Red Sea expeditions to Punt commonly utilized overland travel from the
Qena Bend (Koptos) to Red Sea ports (e.g., Mersa Gawasis) and often continued
overland passage from various landing points in Punt, heading inland to the hill
slopes (“terraces”) to obtain myrrh and other resources from “God’s Land.”
EGYPTIAN EXPORTS
During much of the pharaonic period, the bulk of Egypt’s exports to the
Eastern Desert consisted of transitory expeditions, equipment, and supplies,
some construction of permanent and seasonal installations (e.g., wells, shrines,
monuments, forts, camps), and varying associations with the indigenous inhab-
itants of this region. The interactions with the local Bedouin ranged from
peaceful (i.e., non-hostile), to the inclusion of some Bedu guides and labor in
other expeditions, to open hostility, such as Egyptian pre-emptive and retalia-
tory attacks upon Bedouin campsites and wells (e.g., Sety I; Ramesses II).
EASTERN DESERT IMPORTS TO EGYPT
The Eastern Desert hill country, wadis, and coast served as sources and con-
duits through which Egypt obtained many different products: metals (e.g.,
copper; electrum; gold), minerals (e.g., malachite; galena), semi-precious and
precious stones (e.g., amazonite; Roman emerald mining), building stone
(e.g., limestone; sandstone; basalt; granite; calcite [“alabaster”]), wild game
(e.g., antelopes), animal byproducts (e.g., hides), Red Sea items (shells; coral;
sea urchin spines), and Sinaitic, Puntite, and southwest Arabian products (see
above and below). The Bedu also pastured their flocks in the flood plain.
The Sinai Peninsula and Beyond
Egypt’s eastern Delta had direct access to the Sinai land bridge, which, like
Egypt’s neighboring “deserts,” also contained diverse topography (e.g., moun-
tains, plains, valleys), flora (e.g., scrub land, savannah, some forests), fauna
(e.g., gazelles, ostriches, giraffes, hyena), water sources (e.g., springs, oases),
and micro-to macro-environments and climatic conditions (e.g., arid des-
ert plains to snow-capped mountains). The Sinai Peninsula joined northeast
Africa to southwest Asia and contained three significant routes (pl. 3). The
two southernmost routes appear to have been used periodically as an alternate
43
means of traversing the Wadi Tumilat and southern Isthmus of Suez, especially
in the Ramesside Period (see below). Egyptian travel to southwest Sinai began
in the late Predynastic period, continuing throughout the Old, Middle, and
New Kingdoms, and departed mainly from the Memphite region (including
Middle Kingdom Itj-tawy), to cross the Eastern Desert, Red Sea, and Markha
Plain to reach the turquoise and copper mines at Maghara, Kharig, Serabit el-
Khadim, and other sites. During the Ramesside Period, overland expeditions
left from the residence at Piramesse in the northeastern Delta, or Tjaru, passing
by a well at Gebel Mourr (where Ramesses II erected a commemorative stela)
and a small stone shrine and well at Gebel Abu Hassa (built and maintained
during the reigns of Sety I and Ramesses II), to reach a Ramesside coastal
fort at Kom el-Qolzoum (Suez). This southern terminus facilitated Ramesside
missions to south Sinai, the southern Arabah, and northwest Arabia. A stela
from Gebel Abu Hassa mentions “Hathor, Mistress of Turquoise.” This attests
to some Ramesside travel to the turquoise and copper mining region in south
Sinai, including Wadi Maghara, Serabit el-Khadim, and Reqeita. The presence
of some copper working at a Late Bronze Age site in western Sinai, roughly
midway between Kom el-Qolzoum and Markha Plain, suggests that some
travel took place overland; other ventures may have used ships for a portion of
the trip. In addition, a reference to one or more turquoise and copper mining
expeditions led by a mayor of Tjaru, which is now equated with Tell Heboua
in northwest Sinai, reveals greater complexities in the network of routes used
to reach south Sinai and other destinations. The Ramesside fort at Kom el-
Qolzoum (Suez) also apparently facilitated some overland travel along the Tih
Plateau and central Sinai to the Timna copper mining region in the southern
Arabah during the reign of Ramesses III: His expedition(s) are attested by rock-
cut texts at Wadi Abu Gada (southeast of Kom el-Qolzoum) and Themilat
Radadi (Borot Roded, site 582; northwest of Aqabah). The recent discovery of
rock-cut cartouches of Ramesses III near Tayma’ Oasis, plus Egyptian contain-
ers, figurines, and a scarab from a shrine/structure in Area O at Tayma’, implies
that at least one or more Ramesside expeditions traveled fairly far overland into
northwest Arabia, presumably to obtain southwest Arabian aromatics from
one or more intermediary.
North Sinai, however, served as the most important long-term and continu-
ously used overland route, called the “Ways of Horus,” linking northeast Africa
and southwest Asia. This northern land passage began near the mouth of the
Nile’s Pelusiac branch and a series of lagoons (“the Dividing Waters”) and
crossed a 220 km long coastal stretch until reaching the region of Gaza, at
which point travelers could utilize a wide combination of coastal and inland
trails to reach different objectives in the plains, foothills, and hill country of
the Levant (and beyond). The sand dunes that typify North Sinai today are
mainly a post-pharaonic development, while this coastal region featured vari-
ous springs, wadis, oases, and other natural rest stops, including Wadi el-Arish.
4
North Sinai also received a variety of defensive, administrative, and other

support facilities over time for travelers, including Early Bronze Age and Old
Kingdom campsites, the more elusive Middle Kingdom “Walls of the Ruler,”
a Hyksos stronghold at Tjaru (Tell Hebou I), New Kingdom campsites, out-
posts, forts, magazines, granaries, and reservoirs along the Ways of Horus (e.g.,
Heboua, Tell Borg, Bir el-Abd, Haruba [near el-Arish], Raphia, Deir el-Balah),
Assyrian forts (Abu Salima/Sheikh Zuweid), Saite and Persian Period fortifica-
tions, canals, and sites (e.g., Tell Defenneh, Tell Qedwa, Tell el-Herr, Tell el-
Ghaba, Tell er-Ruqeish), a Bronze Age through Iron Age anchorage and later
stone quay at Tell Ridan and offshore Jezirat Ridan (which probably facilitated
seaborne supplies), and other Late Period installations and fortifications (e.g.,
Tell Abu Sefah, Pelusium).
EGYPTIAN EXPORTS
Most Egyptian exports to Sinai facilitated Egyptian outposts, way stations,

seasonal mining camps, cultic complexes (e.g., the Hathor temple at Serabit el-
Khadim), and other installations, with relatively few items reaching the indig-
enous population. However, some Predynastic Egyptian-type artifacts (e.g.,
carnelian beads) may occur in the Chalcolithic nawami tombs in southeast Sinai,
while late Predynastic to First Dynasty Egyptian graffiti (Wadi ‘Amayra) and
calcite containers, pottery vessels, and their contents (i.e., presumably unguents
and foodstuffs) are attested at several indigenous seasonal campsites in south-
west Sinai. During the late Chalcolithic to Early Bronze Age I, some Egyptian
and Egyptian-type items appear at Tall Hujayrat al-Ghuzlan near Aqaba (e.g.,
Nile shells, incense burners?, a macehead, some flint tools). During subsequent
periods, Egyptian products appear in varying quantities alongside Canaanite
and other material culture at sites across north Sinai and the Negev. Much
Middle through New Kingdom activity is attested in south Sinai, especially
in the Hathor temple at Serabit el-Khadim, and the Ramesside Hathor shrine
at Timna, to which mining expeditions brought numerous votives. Otherwise,
Egyptian material culture in Sinai coincides with the main periods of Egypt’s
domination of various parts of this region, especially during the New Kingdom.
The newly attested Ramesside overland foray into northwest Arabia (i.e., Tayma)
via the southern Arabah, and other Egyptian items from Western Arabia (e.g.,
New Kingdom and later ex situ seals and amulets) suggest an early emergence
of trade with Arabia, particularly in southwest Arabian incense.
SINAITIC AND ARABIAN IMPORTS TO EGYPT
Egypt’s main imports from the Sinai Peninsula appear to be turquoise from
south Sinai, some copper from southwest Sinai (e.g., Maghara, Bir Nasb) and
areas farther to the east (e.g., Timna, Feynan), selected minerals and stones
45
(e.g., malachite, rock crystal), and Red Sea shells, sea urchin spines, and coral
(e.g., Ras Budran). In addition, Ramesses III’s direct contact with Tayma Oasis
(northwest Arabia) probably obtained southwest Arabian aromatics and other
products. Southwest Arabian (“Yemenite”) pottery appears in Middle Kingdom
and New Kingdom contexts at Mersa Gawasis but arrived via Red Sea ship-
ping with little evidence for overland dispersal to the Nile Valley. During the
Late Period, Arabian overland caravans traverse western Arabia and the Negev,
carrying aromatics and reaching Gaza and other destinations, including Egypt.
The Near East
Ancient Egyptian overland routes and travel through the Near East are far more
complex and varied, from prehistory through the pharaonic period (pls. 3–4).
Their usage and frequency depended upon the mixed, changing, and fluctu-
ating geo-political infrastructures, including semi-nomadic pastoralists (e.g.,
Chalcolithic and Early Bronze Age IV Palestine), tribal societies (e.g., Iron Age
I Palestine, Edom, Moab, Ammon), chiefdoms and emerging city states (e.g.,
Early Bronze Age I–III Levant), multiple city states (e.g., Middle Bronze Age–
Late Bronze Age Canaan), larger kingdoms (e.g., Iron Age Philistia, Israel,
Judah), and empires (e.g., Hatti, Mitanni, Assyria, Babylonia, Persia). The
Egyptian rationale for contact with and sometimes control over the Levant
varied widely, including commerce, wider spread international relations (e.g.,
diplomacy), security (e.g., pacifying the Hyksos and their allies [at Sharuhen/
Tell el-Ajjul?], subduing potential and current foes: Bedouin, city states, king-
doms), imperialism (e.g., safeguarding and administering garrisons, vassals,
travel, communications, and access to key sites, resources, tribute, and allies),
and other factors, such as repelling Assyrian, Babylonian, and Persian incur-
sions into southwest Palestine and pending invasions of Egypt.
Aside from maritime travel along the Levantine coast, Egyptians and others
used three main north–south roads: (1) a coastal road (“the Way of Horus”,
“Way of the Sea”) from Tjaru (northwest Sinai) to the Carmel Range, which
turned eastward to Galilee; (2) a hill country route (via Jerusalem), which joined
the first road at Galilee and headed north to Hazor and northeast to Damascus;
and (3) the eastern “King’s Highway,” which ran from Aqaba through the
Transjordanian Plateau to Damascus, and further north. Several east–west
roads linked coastal towns to inland settlements and the eastern route, while
other pathways connected the remaining towns and villages. Papyrus Anastasi
I provides a detailed summary of the Egyptian familiarity with and nature of
key places, topography, routes, logistics, hazards (e.g., animals, bandits), and
travel through Canaan. The road network further north elsewhere in the Near
East is far more complex (see pl. 4). A few transit routes also linked the south-
ern Levant with the Gulf of Aqaba, and northwest Arabia, such as Iron Age
46
routes from Wadi el-Arish, Gaza, Ruqeish (an Assyrian trading karum), and
elsewhere to Kadesh Barnea, and onward to a Red Sea fortified port at Tell el-
Kheleifeh. Egypt’s travel through and presence in the Levant changed dramati-
cally in its nature, geographic scope, and intensity in relation to its commercial,
diplomatic, and political needs and capabilities. These circumstances included
late Predynastic to First Dynasty periods of intense Egyptian trade, military
raids, and potential settlement in the southwest part of the Levant; increasing
raids during the late Old Kingdom into Palestine; Middle Kingdom commerce
with the Levant; a Levantine (Hyksos) occupation of Egypt during the late
Middle Kingdom to Second Intermediate Period; the New Kingdom impe-
rial expansion into Syria-Palestine; a late New Kingdom post-imperial decline
and Third Intermediate Period decentralization and weakness; a brief Saite
resurgence in imperial ambitions; and concurrent and later periods of Near
Eastern empires and increasing aggression and/or expansion into Egypt by the
Assyrians, Babylonians, and Persians.
EGYPTIAN EXPORTS
Egypt exported a wide range of materials, products, animals, people, and influ-
ences to Sinai and the Near East during the late Chalcolithic through Persian
periods. The nature, quantities, and specific means of transmission for such
dispersals vary broadly over time and in geographic coverage. These items can
be grouped into broad categories for Early Bronze Age I–II Palestine and Early
Bronze Age I–III Syria: raw metals, some flints, stone statuary, stone contain-
ers (unguents, other contents), faience vessels, pottery containers, clay sealings
(from containers and other items), jewelry, cosmetic palettes (Predynastic to
Early Bronze Age I), Nile mollusks (utensils?), weaponry, tools, and food (e.g.,
Nile catfish). Egyptian influence materialized through local copies of many
of these aforementioned categories, while an Egyptian presence is attested in
the southwest Levant during Early Bronze Age IB via similar building types
(e.g., en-Besor, Ereini), locally made Egyptian-type pottery, and other evidence
(e.g., “African”-type human remains in Early Bronze Age I burials). Late Old
Kingdom products are well attested in Syria at Byblos, Ebla, and elsewhere.
After an economic decline in Syria, and virtual de-urbanization and minimal
trade in Palestine during Early Bronze Age IV, Egyptian contact is revitalized
in Middle Bronze Age II. For instance, Byblos contains Egyptian-type royal
tombs, a temple, monuments bearing hieroglyphs, antique statuary and stelae,
vessels of stone, glass, and faience, and jewelry (beads, seals). Egyptian artifacts
and materials appeared elsewhere in the Levant (e.g., Qatna), and continued in
the Middle Bronze IIB–C period of Canaanite prosperity.
During Egypt’s New Kingdom Empire, an Egyptian presence and influence
intensified and includes several headquarter cities, places featuring hieroglyphic
monumental texts (e.g., Beth Shan, Nahr el-Kelb, Kadesh), Egyptian traders,
47
soldiers, and other residents (e.g., Ugarit, Beth Shan), a full range of Egyptian-
type structures (e.g., forts, houses, temples, shrines) unspecified “gifts” to city-
state rulers (e.g., Thutmose III’s Megiddo campaign), and diverse material
culture among the elite Canaanites and others. Egypt also dispersed represen-
tatives and many materials and commodities to kingdoms beyond its imperial
boundaries: emissaries, gold, containers of metal, stone, and faience, furniture,
linen, and grain (e.g., famine relief for the Hittites, temp. Merenptah). In the
post-imperial period, the nature, quantity, and scope of Egyptian materials and
products decreased but still featured migrants (Egyptians and Kushites), some
monuments, pottery, luxury containers, jewelry, seals, game boards, weights,
fauna, and other exotica (including some recycled items). Naturally fluctua-
tions occur in the nature and scope of such interactions during these chang-
ing times: Egypt’s decentralized Third Intermediate Period; a strengthened
Kushite-ruled Egypt (Twenty-fifth Dynasty); the early Saite Period of renewed
imperialism; Phoenician transmissions of Egyptianizing artifacts and motifs;
and the expanding domination of the Levant by the Assyrian, Babylonian,
and Persian Empires. These empires also fought against and occupied parts
of Egypt and/or its adjacent territories, often extracting tribute, booty, many
items, exotic animals, prisoners, and other influences to Mesopotamia and
beyond (e.g., Persepolis).
NEAR EASTERN IMPORTS TO EGYPT
During this time frame Egypt variously desired, sought, and obtained a wide
range of materials, commodities, and influences from the Near East via the
aforementioned separate and interlinked overland, riverine, and maritime
routes. During the late Predynastic and First Dynasty (Late Chalcolithic to
Early Bronze Age I), Egypt displayed an intriguing influx in art and architec-
tural items and influences from Syria and Mesopotamia (e.g., niched facades,
cylinder seals, hero-figure separating two animals). Near Eastern imports con-
tinued in the Early Dynastic and Old Kingdom periods (Early Bronze Age
I–III), consisting of lapis lazuli, silver, copper ore, salt, sulfur, and bitumen,
lumber, agricultural produce and byproducts, stone vessels, some flints, pot-
tery containers, jewelry, weaponry, animals, and Asiatic males, females, and
children (migrants, captives, and transients). After an apparent brief reduction
in international relations during the First Intermediate Period, Egypt increased
its interactions with the Near East in the Middle Kingdom (Middle Bronze
Age IIA) through Second Intermediate Period (Middle Bronze Age IIB–C).
Levantine- style courtyard housing, shrines, flexed burials, donkey burials,
Canaanite material culture (weaponry, pottery), a large statue of an Asiatic
(Hyksos) ruler, and other influences appear increasingly at Tell el-Dab’a (Avaris),
which expands its domination and rule over northern Egypt (Hyksos); some
east Delta towns may adopt Levantine-type embankment/mound fortifications
48
(e.g., Tell el-Yahudiyeh; Heliopolis [this is debated]); Canaanite migrants are

attested increasingly in northeast Egypt (e.g., people bearing Semitic names
[including high officials]) and elsewhere (e.g., Levantine female weavers and
tutors in southern Egyptian households). In the Second Intermediate Period,
southern (Theban) Egypt also adopts Canaanite chariots, horses, composite
bows, and musical instruments (lyres, lutes).
The Theban defeat of the Hyksos and the subsequent advent and intensifi-
cation of Egypt’s New Kingdom Levantine Empire realizes a dramatic increase
in Levantine and other imports and influences entering Egypt: royal gifts from
neighboring kingdoms, annual tribute from vassals; captives, hostages, merce-
naries, merchants, messengers and emissaries, foreign princesses (i.e., marriage
alliances with Egypt), transitory pastoralists, and others (especially captives
assigned to royal, cultic, and private estates and workshops). Many Levantine
deities, some of whom had already appeared in the Middle Kingdom through
the Hyksos period (e.g., Sopdu, Baal), became more popular, including Reshef,
Qedeshet, Baal, Anat, Horon, and other deities and some cult centers. During
the post–New Kingdom periods, Egypt experienced expanding influxes of for-
eigners, material culture, and other cross-cultural influences, including Libyan
incursions, Levantine refugees (e.g., Judeans, Edomites), Assyrian and Persian
invasions and occupation forces, Greek and Phoenician merchants, mercenar-
ies, and other cross-cultural exchanges.
Other Aspects of Overland Travel

OFF THE BEATEN TRACK
Other overland routes requiring consideration include new and irregular

trails, reconnaissance, and scouting in more remote or less-traveled regions.
For instance, the Egyptian state often dispatched patrols along key border
regions and in fringe areas to monitor movements by desert tribes (e.g., Middle
Kingdom Semna dispatches). Egyptian police are also reported tracking and
pursuing fugitives along the Wadi Tumilat and into northern Sinai (Papyrus
Anastasi V). Military scouts and affiliated spies might traverse rough terrain,
not usually used for regular traffic, in order to reconnoiter enemy movements
and positions.This is implied in various narratives such as Thutmose III’s year
22 campaign to Megiddo and Ramesses II’s year 5 expedition against Kadesh;
Egyptian armies and other travelers also sometime crossed difficult mountain
paths and more remote trails during military campaigns through hostile terri-
tory (Papyrus Anastasi I). Some routes also emerge, shift, or become abandoned
in relation to individual circumstances, including changes in the environment,
socio-political circumstances, commercial ties, technological needs, and other
factors (e.g., Abu Ballas trail). Egyptian prospectors also searched the adja-
cent deserts for new sources of metals, minerals, stone, and other resources,
49
presumably consulting local informants and entering new terrain beyond

already depleted and exhausted resources. For instance, a distinct increase in
Ramesside prospecting for and exploiting copper sources in the Eastern Desert,
south Sinai (e.g., Reqeita), and southern Arabah (e.g., Timna) may relate to
a temporary decline in and/or loss of access to Cypriot copper during the
Egypto-Hittite wars, an insufficiency in other regional copper sources, and an
increased demand for copper by the Egyptian state.
EXPEDITION TYPES AND COMPOSITION (STAFF)
An expedition’s size and composition varied depending upon its specific route,
nature, scope, and objective(s), including military expeditions, mining, quarry-
ing, mercantile, diplomatic, and other ventures, which range from well-attested
“royal missions,” temple expeditions (e.g., cults of Amun, Re, and Ptah), to pro-
vincial endeavors (e.g., Djehutyhotep), and less well-known, private commerce
(e.g., The Eloquent Peasant, Hyksos caravans across north Sinai, Bedouin/
Asiatics bringing galena to Beni Hassan). Overland missions could contain: a
single messenger (e.g., a Hyksos courier traveling to Kush through the Western
Desert); scouts reconnoitering enemy territory; a royal emissary, charioteer, and
escort (noted in the Amarna Letters); or larger groups numbering a few hundred
(e.g., some expeditions to Sinai), thousands (e.g., mining, quarrying, military,
and other groups), and up to 40,000–50,000 personnel (e.g., Ramesses II’s cam-
paign against Kadesh). The leadership of such groups encompassed state and
military leaders (e.g., the pharaoh, princes, generals, officers, Medjay scouts),
non-military officials with specific expertise or broader qualifications (e.g., expe-
ditions to Nubia led by Elephantine’s nomarch and/or his sons, treasury offi-
cials in Sinai, broadly qualified and trustworthy high officials), and others (e.g.,
employees of temple cults). Likewise, the staff of such expeditions also differed
according to specific requirements, including larger contingents of unskilled
personnel/conscripts (e.g., quarrying, mining, military conscripts), skilled labor
(e.g., engineers, prospectors, masons, naval contingents), more specialized staff
(e.g., officers, scribes, masons, architects, priests, guides, interpreters), and for-
eign auxiliaries (e.g., Nubians, Levantines, Mycenaeans[?]‌, some Sea Peoples).
EXPEDITION EQUIPMENT AND SUPPLIES
Many expeditions required the transportation of additional provisions, sup-

plies and personnel (fig. 3.1) to traverse difficult and often hostile desert ter-
rain, including walking sticks, bags of bread, water skins, spare sandals, pack
donkeys with supplies, indigenous Bedouin hunters and bodyguards, and armed
police escorts against potential Bedouin attacks. An Eleventh Dynasty steward,
Henu, needed to dig fifteen wells in three areas for an expedition of 3,000 men
dispatched to the Wadi Hammamat and Red Sea. In friendly foreign polities an
50
FIGURE 3.1 Establishing a military campsite; from Horemheb’s Memphite tomb.
expedition’s leadership and some staff could be billeted in outposts, towns, and
cities. One New Kingdom official (Intef [Theban Tomb 155]) is attested travel-
ing ahead of the army in Canaan to prepare the pharaoh’s daily quarters and
other amenities in vassal city-states (see also Papyrus Anastasi IV). Otherwise,
the personnel of most large expeditions camped in the open, reusing old camp-
sites and shelters or sometimes establishing new camps, tents, campfires, and
other transitory facilities (e.g., North Sinai). In crossing enemy territory, the
New Kingdom military foraged and harvested its foe’s crops, making tempo-
rary enclosed camps with an outer shield wall, an area for soldiers’ tents, pack
donkeys, chariots, and horses, wagons, and oxen, and an inner enclosure with
the leaderships’ tents and pavilion (e.g., Ramesses II’s campaign scenes). Aside
from the ubiquitous and hardy pack donkeys, Egypt’s New Kingdom military
used chariots and ox-drawn carts and wagons in Canaan (e.g., Ramesses II) and
along Eastern Desert roads (e.g., Ramesses IV); carts transported heavier mate-
rials and supplies, thereby moving more slowly according to the requirements
of the oxen (8 miles [almost 13 km] per day). Some Egyptian and Near Eastern
texts, models, and depictions indicate litters and chariots with sunshades and
covered wagons, suggesting a variety of means to improve the comforts of over-
land travel for the elite and others. Camel caravans are not attested until later in
the ninth century BCE in the Near East, albeit earlier in Arabia and with varying
usage in Mesopotamia, the Near East, and elsewhere.
51
TRAVEL PERIODS, PERMITS, AND FACILITIES ALONG ROUTES
Overland travel (fig. 3.2) is attested year round, especially during the winter in
the adjacent drier desert landscapes, while a reduction in sea and land travel
occurred in the winter months in northern regions owing to frequent storms,
rainfall, mud, snowfall (in Anatolia), and less easily navigated roadways in
parts of the Levant and Anatolia. Regarding other travel restrictions, inscrip-
tions note travel permits and papers for entering, staying, and leaving Egypt,
for city-states within the Levant, and elsewhere, during the Middle Kingdom
(e.g., tomb of Khnumhotep II), Eighteenth Dynasty (Amarna Letters), and
late Twentieth Dynasty (Wenamun). Travelers often required diverse adap-
tions for overland passage across difficult and different terrain (e.g., deserts,
forests, plains, mountains), geo-political landscapes (e.g., chiefdoms, city-
states, kingdoms, empires), and specific circumstances (e.g., peaceful regions,
hostile territory). For instance, a rough sandstone roadway ran 12 km across
Egypt’s Western Desert to Lake Moeris (Fayum) to enable dragging basalt
blocks to a quay for shipment to the Nile. The Hittites maintained “royal
roads,” including some paved segments, to facilitate winter travel to Hattusas
(central Anatolia) and elsewhere; North Sinai reportedly had a mud-brick
road. Most “roads” represented well-traveled paths and tracks (e.g., Canaan),
firmer, winding desert wadi beds (e.g., Wadi Hammamat, Ras Budran to
Wadi Maghara), or less well-defined, broader trails across wide landscapes
(e.g., north Sinai, Western Desert). Regarding Egypt’s adjacent deserts and
north Sinai, small to large expeditions followed wider trails and worn routes
between natural springs, oases (e.g., Wadi el-Arish), wells, and reservoirs; they
stopped at regularly established supply depots (e.g., Bir el-Abd granaries),
way stations and shrines (e.g., Gebel Abu Hassa, Beit el-Wali), administra-
tive and fortified outposts (e.g., Deir el-Balah), and anchorages or ports with
both seasonal and permanent installations (e.g., Tell Ridan, Tell er-Ruqeish).
NAVIGATING ACROSS FOREIGN LANDSCAPES
Egyptian expeditions used different methods to navigate across unfamiliar

or confusing terrain, including local guides, experienced expedition mem-
bers who knew the terrain, and papyrus maps illustrating key landmarks
and features (e.g., Sety I’s replication in Karnak temple of a map of north
Sinai [fig. 3.2]; the Wadi Hammamat map [fig. 3.3]); expeditions also fol-
lowed well-marked human, donkey, and other visible trails across the des-
ert (e.g., camel trails in the seventh century BCE and later), and established
stone cairns (alamat) and other key landmarks to aid in navigation across
different and remote landscapes (e.g., Wadi al-Jarf, Mersa Gawasis, Dakhla
Oasis). Other navigational aids might include celestial observations, such as
using the stars at night. In addition, Egyptian travelers left rock-cut texts and
52
53
FIGURE 3.2 a&b: Sety I’s north Sinai forts and way stations. From Karnak temple.
54
FIGURE 3.3 Ramesside papyrus map of the Wadi Hammamat.
5
graffiti at shaded rest stops (e.g., Rod el-Air) and other localities along routes
and various destinations, attesting to their passage and presence in remote
areas. Egypt also relied upon foreign overland caravans at different periods
and various geographic areas to export and import goods between the Nile
Valley, intermediate zones (e.g., Dakhla Oasis), and distant regions (e.g., Gilf
el-Kebir and farther south).
EXPEDITION HAZARDS
Travel outside the Nile Valley and Delta entailed a wide range of both feared
and real dangers, spanning natural through supernatural and human threats.
One late Old Kingdom text notes the Bedouin massacre of an entire expedi-
tion and its leader on the shores of the Red Sea, presumably near Mersa
Gawasis (or possibly Ayn Soukhna; probably not Wadi al-Jarf), while they
were preparing ships for embarkation to Punt. Another Sixth Dynasty text
deals with the arrangements for the retrieval of the body of an expedition
commander, Sabni, who had been killed in Nubia along with his personnel.
The Middle Kingdom Satire of Trades emphasizes that couriers made wills
before setting out owing to dangers from lions and Asiatics. Other prospec-
tive travelers made offerings to various protective deities (e.g., Horus cippi)
and wore amulets to protect themselves against potential snakebites, scorpion
stings, and other dangers. The higher death rates experienced by missions
outside the Nile Valley is underscored by boasts by expedition leaders that
their ventures did not suffer any deaths or other misfortunes. The Amarna
Letters and other documents also refer to Shasu, Habiru, and other Bedu
attacks on and robberies of mercantile caravans and other travelers travers-
ing Canaan and the Near East in general. A Twentieth Dynasty text cites
the loss of over nine hundred personnel (10 per cent) from a mining and
quarrying expedition of approximately nine thousand persons dispatched by
Ramesses IV into the Wadi Hammamat. A late Ramesside literary piece, The
Report of Wenamun, mentions the tomb of Khaemwas’ emissaries, who lan-
guished seventeen years in Byblos without completing their mission. Hence,
these accounts and other data imply that foreign travel commonly held many
dangers, spanning adverse climate (e.g., flash floods, sand storms, sea storms),
natural causes (e.g., wild animals, pestilence, diseases, poisonous stings and
bites, heatstroke, dehydration), to particular circumstances (e.g., poor plan-
ning, misfortune [“fate”]), plus caravan robberies, attacks (e.g., Bedouin/
other raids, ambushes, skirmishes, and battles) and other factors.
EXPEDITION CARGO AND GOODS
In addition to the personal requirements for expedition personnel and draught

animals during their overland travels (be it a military expedition, mining/
56
quarrying venture, trading caravan, diplomatic mission, or another form of

travel), such expeditions also carried additional cargos and other things intended
for their destinations both outside Egypt and for journeys to Egypt. Naturally,
the specific materials, product types, animals, peoples, and their quantities and
influences differed widely over time and with their varying destination(s) (see
above).
SAFEGUARDING ROUTES AND TRAVELERS
The Egyptian state frequently dispatched armed escorts to accompany travel-

ers and expeditions in remote and hostile regions outside the Nile Valley (e.g.,
twenty-five Nubian troops escorting a gold mining expedition in the reign
of Ramesses IX [Papyrus Cairo C-D]), while foreign city states and king-
doms normally assumed the responsibility for safeguarding routes, overland
travelers (including Egyptians), and cargoes travelling through their territo-
ries (e.g., Amarna Letters). The Egyptian state also implemented additional
security measures: For instance, Dakhla Oasis has yielded evidence for police
patrols and posts during the Old Kingdom. Middle Kingdom patrols and
trackers are attested frequenting the desert fringes in Nubia to monitor, inter-
cept, question, and report the movements of the desert tribes. In the Middle
Kingdom, Amenemhat I built a 47 by 59 meter fort at Wadi el-Natrun to
secure this region from Libyan incursions. In the Second Intermediate Period,
the Theban kingdom apparently established and administered a 218 acre set-
tlement at Umm Mawagir (110 miles to the west of Thebes), which contained
Nubian troops and formed a major Western Desert trading hub straddling
the east–west Girga road and a north–south overland route between the delta
and Nubia. In the Ramesside period of increasing troubles along Egypt’s
frontiers, Ramesses II and other rulers built and maintained a series of forts
along the edge of the west delta to deter further Libyan incursions (e.g., Kom
Firin, Zawiyet Umm el-Rakham), while Sety I and his successors fortified
the “Ways of Horus” across North Sinai, and established military garrisons
at key places in Canaan (e.g., Gaza, Tell Farah South, Tell Sera’, Tell es-
Sa’idiyeh, Beth Shan). The Saite rulers also founded a few military bases
abroad, including a major Egyptian garrison at Carchemish in Syria (i.e., to
aid the declining Assyrian Empire), and probably the fortress at Dorginarti
in Lower Nubia.
Conclusion
The succeeding Ptolemaic and Roman Periods witnessed a dramatic increase in

overland travel to, exploitation of, and interactions with Egypt’s Eastern and
57
Western Deserts (e.g., Wadi Hammamat, Siwah Oasis, Cyrenaica), a combina-

tion of riverine and overland trade with sub-Saharan Africa (e.g., Meroe, Gebel
Moya, Aksum), and expanded maritime commerce with Eritrea/ Ethiopia,
southwest Arabia, East Africa, and India. As in the pharaonic period, such
interrelations frequently combined riverine, maritime, and overland routes
(e.g., Red Sea ports of Abu Sha’ar, Myos Hormos, Bernike), but included alter-
nate, overland routes as well (e.g., Abu Ballas trail).
58
59
SECTION II }
People
60
61
4 }
Children of Other Gods
SOCIAL INTERACTIONS
Bettina Bader*
Introduction
In order to discuss the ancient Egyptian attitude towards non-local and

“foreign” people in the best possible way it is necessary to start with some
considerations of the current situation of the “interpreters.” It is clear that
research questions such as the topic of this chapter are driven by modern/
current interests and problems as well as by our own life experiences. Before
it is possible to ask questions such as “how did Egyptians treat people from
abroad and interact with them,” it must be clarified that our modern world
and personal situations influence the way we look at the evidence. Currently
we take this topic so seriously for obvious reasons. Moreover, we must remain
aware that our worldview is heavily influenced by the tradition of western
philosophy.
Another important point is the consideration of post-colonial research
undertaken in other parts of the world, because early Egyptian archaeology
was also driven by a desire to acquire objects of art worthy to be displayed in
European and North American museums. Most governments of “developed”
western countries were attracted by the possibility to combine cultural efforts
of research and collecting with political/colonial aims of the respective period.
“Egyptomania” of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century CE boosted
this field. At the same time the discipline of Egyptology developed a colonial
and male viewpoint on the ancient culture. While such and similar factors have
been identified and theorized at length in social anthropology and archaeolo-
gies of other parts of the world, Egyptology is becoming aware of its lack of
theoretical (self-)scrutiny.
*
Bettina Bader currently leads the Austrian Science Fund financed project Beyond Politics—
Material Culture in Second Intermediate Period Egypt and Nubia hosted by the Austrian Academy of
Sciences (FWF—Y754-G19). 61
62
62 { Bettina Bader
The indebtedness of Egyptology to the culture-historical approach to the

ancient past needs to be mentioned. This approach goes back even past V. G.
Childe, a famous prehistorian, who maintained that recurring combinations
of artifacts and a distinct material culture reflects “cultural” groups of people
or “peoples.” In consequence, the Egyptian culture, which appears as uniform
and very coherent, was viewed as self-created, self-sufficient, and “pure.” Such
concepts have been severely criticized and largely abandoned, because they do
not take into consideration that cultures do not exist in isolation. It is clear
that any of these underlying concepts directly influences the way we interpret
“cultural contacts” between Egyptian people and the rest of the world.
Important for understanding is the fact that, besides the archaeological
record that does not supply names and views on the self, the Egyptian sources
provide only limited material about the view of self of higher-status individuals
and even less on non-Egyptians. Here the tomb stelae may be mentioned, which
represent beside the physical bodies the only record of individuals and their
identities (gender, age, profession, ethnicity, and so forth) and how they (or
their relatives) wanted them to be seen by posterity. It remains largely unknown
which rules applied to the composition of such stelae besides the artistic canon
for the depiction of the tomb owner (if there was one) and if they were the same
for Egyptians and non-Egyptians. This is more than the neighboring archaeo-
logical cultures can offer, but it is necessary to be aware that this information
is through the eyes of a literate male Egyptian elite that may have fostered a
generalized and stereotyped picture.
A Combination of Sources: Archaeology, Texts, and Pictorial
Egyptology offers the advantageous situation that allows us to consult and

combine archaeology, textual, and pictorial evidence for most periods except
the very early ones. While this additional information provides a better chance
for reconstruction and interpretation of the past, it must not be forgotten that
these different source types need different approaches and source criticisms.
Texts may be used to advantage on a meta-level. Also, for some periods not all
source types exist in triple to complement each other, but rather they are to be
used alternatively. Thus, for eras not covered by one source type the other is
used to extrapolate, which is far from ideal and sometimes stretches the exist-
ing sources. Some reliefs of the Old Kingdom, for example show quite clearly
which commodities were brought back into Egypt (e.g., relief of a Syrian bear
with some vessels from the Fifth Dynasty pyramid temple of Sahure, Berlin
ÄM 21828, [Abusir]). Such fragments were used frequently for far-reaching
interpretations even though some are lacking inscriptions and may therefore be
ambiguous especially in the social implications.
63
Social Interactions } 63
An example of a lost chance to combine archaeology and texts to advan-

tage is the Middle Kingdom settlement of Lahun, where (among many other
documents) a number of papyri have been found with lists of Asiatics and
other Egyptian unfree people (perhaps similar to serfs, but not equivalent
to Roman slaves) in the employ of certain institutions and individuals. They
are identified by name, given Egyptian name, origin (Ꜥ ꝫm), occupation, gen-
der, and filiation. The fact that many of them were given Egyptian names
makes them frequently disappear from the records. Although the settlement
was extensively excavated in 1890–1891, the material culture of co-habitation
of Egyptian and Asiatic people is not sufficiently preserved to decide whether
the non-local presence indicated by the texts had any influence on the material
culture in general. However, there are a few exceptions: for example, a weav-
ing implement (British Museum 70881) with an unknown (pseudo)inscrip-
tion that Sass has ascertained to be not Proto-Sinaitic. Torques and ivory box
inlays with concentric circles are not necessarily Syro/Palestinian products.
The truly imported pottery known from Lahun, as well as the locally pro-
duced pottery, which shows influences from abroad (e.g., the Aegean), cannot
give any hints to the physical presence of non-Egyptians because the local
industry might have been influenced just by the presence of the original prod-
uct. Aegeanists have stated that those pottery vessels/fragments would have
been immediately apparent as local imitations. The same can be said about
faience stirrup jars from the Late Bronze Age/New Kingdom, where the idea
of the vessel type is apparent but the execution is clearly non-Aegean and
deeply rooted in Egyptian production.
Archaeologically Proven Contacts and Their Interpretation
From the first archaeological endeavors in Egypt onwards, finds from countries
abroad were noted and discussed. At first, from the Chalcolithic, such contacts
were pinpointed by the appearance of raw materials that do not naturally occur
in Egypt and thus must have come from abroad, such as lapis lazuli, obsid-
ian, silver, or bitumen. Some of the most famous works of early art such as
the Gebel el-Arak knife and palettes carry artistic motifs that show influences
from Mesopotamia. For these early incidents it remains quite unclear how the
contact situation and the social framework within which it took place are to be
imagined. Whether a regular exchange took place, or if the contact was all but
indirect via a long line of unknown intermediaries, can only be hypothesized.
It is clear, however, that in Egypt a stratified society existed and not everybody
had access to such items due to their rarity, especially in Upper Egypt. This also
suggests that the main contact line ran through the Egyptian Nile Delta, but
future finds may change this picture.
64
64 { Bettina Bader
Over time more objects, often pottery, especially in prehistoric archaeol-

ogy, attest to intense contacts from earliest times onward. For example, the
hundreds of imported storage jars found in large elite tombs in cemetery U at
Abydos in Naqada IIIA need to be mentioned, as well as the so-called wavy-
handled jars that underwent a typological development in Egypt quite sepa-
rately from those found in the Levant. These containers were not imported for
their own sake but for specific and sought-after contents, such as vegetable oils,
figs, and wine. While on the receiving Egyptian side—the context suggests the
highest stratum of society—it remains unclear what, if anything, was given in
return and to whom exactly.
Notably, during the same time a number of settlements existed in the south-
ern Levant, such as Tel Halif, En Besor, and Tel Lod, at which a proportion
of pottery was found exhibiting certain traits in typology and manufacturing
technology that are labeled “Egyptianizing” or “Egyptianized,” with all the
baggage and unspoken implications such terms carry. In very few cases is it
known how the proportions of Egyptian versus local material relate to one
another or if these vessels cluster in certain contexts. Also the consideration
of what constitutes “Egyptian” and “Egyptianizing” material seems to have
changed over the last decades and making a coherent interpretation based on a
range of reports difficult. While Tell el-Sakan was described as a fortified settle-
ment with a larger amount of such pottery and Egyptian-type buildings, Tel
Erani yielded a more differentiated view on these locally made Egyptian finds
and (parts of) buildings, which included architectural features known from the
Egyptian Naqada culture. Renewed fieldwork and analysis changed the picture
in that “Egyptian” and “Egyptianizing” pottery started later than previously
thought (Early Bronze Age IB2). Besides pottery, notably chipped stone tools
exhibit traces that can be interpreted as peculiarly Egyptian or Levantine. The
chipping traditions of these areas seem to be quite different. The interpreta-
tions of these findings center on some form of Egyptian hegemony or coloniza-
tion. Here variants range from Egyptian colonial posts in one case to peaceful
settlements with Egyptian presence (no arrowheads at Erani) of civilian nature.
Both types may have served for trading purposes in the form of merchant colo-
nies, military stations, or fortified sites.
The presence of so-called “hybrid” pottery at Erani is noteworthy, including
southern Palestinian shapes made from chaff-tempered fabrics and Egyptian-
style finish, Egyptian forms with southern Levantine plastic ornaments, and
Egyptian shapes made from Canaanite-type fabrics. This is a feature of mate-
rial culture that seems to occur in areas and periods where people of different
origin meet, such as the Delta and southern Palestine and probably also on the
southern border of Egypt. The material culture and any changes it might have
undergone are only now being studied and contextualized. Thus, it is perhaps a
bit fortuitous to speak of straightforward Egyptian colonies. A thorough com-
parative study of the material culture from both areas is needed in order to
65
pinpoint differences and similarities and to come to a consensus about the cul-
tural assignation. The fact that the contexts differ—tombs versus settlements—
might also distort the interpretational framework.
Another example for an archaeological contact situation can be found in
the first half of the second millennium BCE at Tell el-Dab’a—ancient Avaris—
in the northeastern Nile Delta. This site has a habitation history that ranges
from the beginning of the Twelfth Dynasty to the Late Period. This longevity
makes the site a valuable source of information because it is possible to study
the development of the material culture of a purely Egyptian site after cul-
tural influences from the north—Syria/Palestine. As in prehistory, the names
of the majority of the individuals living at this site remain unknown and the
few Hyksos king’s names inscribed on stone fragments were found out of
context.
After a lengthy period of settlement in orthogonally planned housing (no
cemeteries have been found for the earlier part of the Twelfth Dynasty) with a
material culture that shows only scant evidence of commodity exchange in
the form of ceramic containers of so-called Levantine Painted Ware and very
few Canaanite jars, the volume of imported material rises sharply in the late
Twelfth Dynasty. At the same time tombs with some characteristics of the
northern Middle Bronze Age culture appear at the site in one area. This con-
cerns mainly some types of grave goods (toggle pins, Syro/Palestinian weap-
ons, burial of articulated animals before the entrance of the tomb) and the
burial positions of the bodies (on the back with legs flexed). Typically Egyptian
objects, such as kohl pots and other stone vessels, beads, scarabs, and a few stat-
ues are found in the same tombs. At the same time the tomb architecture is no
different from that in other parts of Egypt, where mud-brick chamber tombs
set into pits and simple pit tombs occur. The pottery found in those tombs
consists of Egyptian as well as imported Syro/Palestinian ceramics (amphorae
and juglets). While such combinations (with the addition of Syro/Palestinian
diadems, and Egyptian coffins, palettes/mullers, and mirrors) in tomb con-
tents continue until the end of the Second Intermediate Period, there is also an
increasing number of previously imported and later locally produced pottery,
at first mainly small juglets presumably containing some precious commodity,
and then several Middle Bronze Age pottery types.
In the course of the late Middle Kingdom and the Second Intermediate
Period the settlement architecture provides no indications of any outside influ-
ence either in the house plans (with one exception in the late Twelfth Dynasty) or
in the building technology or the lay-out. Religious architecture is represented
by temples/chapels, two of which show a typical tripartite arrangement as do
other Egyptian chapels, and two Near Eastern types (one broad-room temple
and one with bent axis). Finally the presence of a huge palace of an agglutinat-
ing plan dating to the late Second Intermediate Period with close similarities
to Near Eastern types such as at Mari and Ebla needs to be mentioned. An
6
66 { Bettina Bader
interesting absence is to be noticed in direct evidence for non-Egyptian gods in

this period. They seem to mostly appear during the New Kingdom.
As for the objects of daily use, the pottery corpus shows over time an amal-
gamation of Egyptian and Syro/Palestinian typological traits such as surface
treatment, manufacturing technology, and shape repertoire. The products of
this very regionally confined development cannot unequivocally be assigned to
one or the other tradition, because the pottery represents an intricate mixture of
both. To a limited extent a similar process can be observed in scarab production.
The interpretation of this archaeological situation usually focuses on the pres-
ence of people from Syria/Palestine and explains it by means of re-settlement
of prisoners of war by the Egyptian central administration in the late Twelfth
Dynasty or more generally as immigrants who sought the “bread baskets” of
Egypt who later on became more powerful and extended their political influ-
ence toward the Nile Valley and farther south. While the first option is derived
from more or less contemporaneous texts (annals of Amenemhat II, Stela of
Sobekkhu, Lahun papyri), the archaeology does not suggest any means of sup-
pression or forced presence. However, while the development of the material
culture has been frequently used for studies of acculturation (a collection of
divergent theories without unified definition, sometimes of colonial spirit), it
is clear that both cultural components were present and continued to exist for
some time soldered together in a new form, albeit in a spatially very confined
region. This continued co-existence of both cultural elements also makes it dif-
ficult to pinpoint an ethnic identity in a cultural sense of the buried people at
the site, because it is a situational-fluid social concept, defined through real or
perceived similarities and differences of culture, history, and language. These
perceptions may have changed during the lifetime of a person and need not be
in congruence with genetic factors. As neither any names of the inhabitants of
the Second Intermediate Period nor the language/vernacular that they spoke is
known, it seems impossible to go beyond the assertion of a mixed cultural tra-
dition at this site. Whether the non-elite inhabitants considered themselves as
Egyptians, Levantines, or a third (mixed) grouping cannot be fathomed. Also it
remains unknown whether this question played a major role in the daily reality
of these ancient people.
The sensational find of the Minoan wall paintings at the same site in a
trash layer of an early New Kingdom palatial context needs a quite different
explanation.
Contrast between Official Ideology and Daily Routine

with Neighbors
The dichotomy between the Egyptian stereotypes of foreigners (skin color, dress,
hair style, accessories, epithets) and references to individual non-Egyptians was
67
explained by means of Loprieno’s concept of topos and mimesis initially devel-

oped from Egyptian literature, where the (mostly negative) stereotype repre-
sents the topos and individual realism stands for mimesis. This concept has also
been transferred to pictorial sources and archaeology. The motif of “slaying
the enemy/prisoner” (fig. 4.1) was entrenched in Egyptian iconography since
the prehistoric period, as can be seen in tomb 100 at Hierakonpolis and the
Narmer palette. It was still used on temple fronts in Roman times. While for
the earliest attestations no inscription names the “enemy,” the later tradition
clearly identifies the habitual underdog (Asiatic/Syrian or a triad of a Syrian,
Nubian, and Libyan), ethnic stereotypes created to represent the Egyptian
worldview in a positive light. The famous Narmer palette shows an inhabitant
of the Delta as the enemy slain, while an ivory tablet depicts a non-Egyptian
desert-dweller with long hair. By the time of the Old Kingdom a phenotypi-
cal distinction between the main groups of non-Egyptians (Nubians, Asiatics,
Libyans) seems to have been in place in the artistic conventions. Nevertheless,
until at least the Eleventh Dynasty some enemies have identical faces and were
distinguished only by their inscriptions or attributes. Even Upper Egyptians
were among them. Thus in the first instance all people seem to have been on
an equal footing and whether they rebelled against the “mighty cosmologi-
cal power”—the ruler or mꜤ ꝫt—was the only decisive factor in their slaying,
not their origin. Interestingly in the New Kingdom icons a predominance of
FIGURE 4.1 Slaying of the enemies. Karnak temple.

68
68 { Bettina Bader
FIGURE 4.2 Slain enemies. Karnak temple.
Asiatics in the choice of victims perhaps as prototypes for foreigners (fig. 4.2)
can be noticed, while Nubians are also frequently mentioned and shown in
pejorative terms (“vile” or “wretched” Nubians). Libyans seem to occur more
rarely, and the Aegeans, namely the people from Keftiu and Hau-nebut, are
not found in such a context (but see below, for the Theban tomb scenes), per-
haps because no major confrontation occurred before the depiction became so
deeply rooted. The action behind the icon, namely the killing of the enemies
by cutting off heads and other body parts, was most probably real, as some
archaeological finds and temple scenes suggest (cut-off hands and heads in a
pit at Tell el-Dab’a; a cruelly bound and killed prisoner in the area of the Mut
temple in Luxor; heap of cut-off hands at Medinet Habu) (fig. 4.3).
Another icon to be mentioned here is the “stepping on the nine bows” by
the pharaoh as a symbolic action for the overcoming of rebellious enemies
against the all-ruling power. These nine bows are depicted below the feet of
the pharaoh on footstools or pedestals of statues or even on the underside of
sandals. As in the execration texts, a magical means to defeat enemies, Upper
and Lower Egyptians are included in the list, as well as oasis dwellers. Thus, the
origin of the person was again not particularly relevant, but rather if (s)he took
action against the pharaoh, who controlled everything on earth and crushed
any unlawful resistance.
69
FIGURE 4.3 Counting the hands of the fallen enemies. Medinet Habu.
Archaeologically, several situations where people from abroad lived together

with local Egyptian people can be brought forward: for example in the late
Middle Kingdom and Second Intermediate Period settlement at Tell el-Dab’a/
Avaris. There is no evidence to suggest that any segregation or suppression was
in place, but it also remains unclear what sort of record we are looking for.
The papyri from Lahun and Thebes, lists of unfree workers fulfilling a range
of specific tasks such as singing or weaving, on the other hand show a very dif-
ferent picture. It is very difficult to know how such “slaves” were treated and
if this label is actually justified. As lists naming fugitives (Papyrus Brooklyn
35.1446) exist, forced labor was involved and it concerned foreigners as well as
Egyptians.
70
70 { Bettina Bader
Similarly it is difficult to ascertain why and how the owners of the “pan-
graves” of the late Middle Kingdom and the Second Intermediate Period found
at several sites in southern Egypt fit into the Egyptian social fabric. Known
primarily by their round, shallow pit tombs with side-flexed burials and a dis-
tinct range of burial gifts (items such as jewelry from certain shells, pottery,
painted animal crania, and so forth), they are quite dissimilar from Egyptian
customs. There are cemeteries where “pan-graves” are isolated, while in oth-
ers they are interspersed between Egyptian ones. Moreover, in other instances
objects commonly considered Egyptian are found together with non-Egyptian
ones. Some burial customs, such as rectangular shafts and extended body posi-
tion, were also taken over. These variants are often ascribed to a develop-
ment. Whether relational and material entanglement developed needs detailed
research. The archaeological material of the “pan-grave culture” is currently
undergoing a fresh contextual analysis. This group of people was identified
with the Medjay of Egyptian texts, who lived in a non-specific area to the
east or southeast of the Nile Valley. The “ethnic identity” of this group is
an Egyptian creation and therefore a stereotype, with which not necessarily
any nomad from the Eastern Desert themselves identified at first. The textual
sources suggest that over time the Medjay became an important part of the
Egyptian imperial military system and in the New Kingdom the term signi-
fied a type of specialized military unit, whose members considered themselves
proudly to be Medjay. Recently awareness has been raised about the long-
standing connection and extrapolation between the (textual) Medjay and the
(archaeological) “pan-grave culture” without giving critical thought on the
nature of the source types.
Perhaps different again is the situation at the southern end of the country at
Elephantine, where there is continuous evidence for contact with Nubians. (The
definition and distinction of the material culture of the C-group, “pan-grave”,
and Kerma especially in the earlier phases is currently not finalized.) It seems
that small amounts of Nubian-derived pottery made up part of the ceramic
repertoire of Elephantine settlement and burials from the third millennium BCE
onward, representing a close relationship. Whether a real mix existed is at pres-
ent hard to say but may be expected. So far only for the Middle Kingdom evi-
dence of Nubian influence on the local ceramic repertoire (mostly in terms of
decoration) in the settlement provides hints for a close contact. Straightforward
importations from Lower Nubia alone cannot be considered to represent the
physical presence of people, and the same holds true for similar situations at
other sites. The massive presence of Nubian cooking pottery at the fortress of
Askut amid an otherwise Egyptian ceramic repertoire points to a presence of
Nubian cooks (female, probably). The most difficult task in archaeology is to
provide proof for the physical presence of non-local people, because it would
necessitate the assignation of certain objects to certain “ethnicities” and this
remains problematic in most cases.
71
The cemetery of Tombos in Nubia, however, in use from the early Eighteenth
to the Twenty-fifth Dynasty seems to cater for Egyptian colonists and local
Nubians and shows a situation where tombs reflecting Egyptian as well as
Nubian burial customs appear side by side. It became obvious that the local
population chose between Egyptian and Nubian burial customs, but which
factors influenced this choice remains unclear. Resistance was suspected as
possible motivation. In Napatan times Egyptian and Nubian traits became
intricately mixed, a feature known from the late Middle Kingdom and Second
Intermediate Period cemeteries at Avaris.
Egyptians as Nationalists?
Closely connected to the view of the “other” is the view of the self and the
question whether Egyptians considered themselves to belong to a “state” or a
“nation” in a supra-local sense. Recent research into the connection between
modern “nationalistic” concepts and a possible equivalent in ancient Egyptian
views doubts that such a notion ever existed in antiquity. In the search for a
national identity (only one of many) expressed in texts it appears that stress is
regularly laid on the local perspective rather than on any “national” notions.
Nation states and discourse connected to them have existed only since the
nineteenth century CE. The hometown seems to be of major importance to
the owner of inscriptions in general in a wide range of periods. Within this
framework fits the Egyptian desire expressed in literature to be buried in one’s
hometown. Thus, this might have implications on the view toward the “other”—
namely, foreign—people, too. In principle there should, then, be no difference
between a person from the next town (which is not one’s own) and a town in
Retjenu or Kush. Nevertheless, one may recall the instructions of Ptahhotep
(Old Kingdom) and Ani (New Kingdom) to take a wife who is known in the
town and to beware of an “outsider woman” who is not. This would then also
concern people from abroad, unless it is meant misogynistically.
In the Amarna period, all persons, animals, and things on earth were the
creation of the sole god, and the great Amarna Hymn (Lichtheim 1976, p. 98)
specifically mentions:
O sole God beside whom there is none!
You made the earth as you wished, you alone,
All peoples, all herds and flocks;
All upon earth that walk on legs,
All on the high that fly on wings,
The lands of Khor [Syria/Palestine] and Kush [Nubia],
The land of Egypt.
You set every man in his place,
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72 { Bettina Bader
You supply their needs;

Everyone has his food,
His lifetime is counted.
Their tongues differ in speech,
Their characters likewise;
Their skins are distinct,
For you distinguished the peoples.
This particular verse has been taken to mean that there is no hierarchical dif-
ference between Egyptians and other peoples during this time, but that they
are only of different appearance. This is in contrast to the—later—story of
Wenamun, where Amun-Re is said to have founded Egypt first, although he
still created all other lands as well. It remains difficult to decide whether the
purported “outside” view of Egyptian literature refers there to Egypt as a geo-
graphic unit only or to an identity.
Contact Situations Known from Depictions and

Their Interpretations
In the following some pictorial scenes are discussed with a focus on their social
implications and interpretational difficulties.
A relief block from the Old Kingdom pyramid temple of Sahure of the Fifth
Dynasty shows Asiatic sailors and their families on seagoing ships returning
from the Levant or the Red Sea, who perform a gesture of adoration to the
pharaoh just like the Egyptian part of the crew (the superiors). Interestingly,
these Asiatics are only shown on the return journey; thus it has been assumed
they were brought back by the expedition. While the destination remains
unmentioned, Byblos has been assumed. Asiatics constitute the majority of
people on the ship, which do not seem to be treated like prisoners or slaves,
as shackles and ropes are not shown. Thus, it seems as if they are treated as
equals to Egyptians, but the inscriptions remain silent on this. The presence
of Egyptian interpreters (Ꜥw) is also remarkable. A similar scene in the Unas
causeway a few generations later shows a larger majority of Asiatics but with-
out families on board seagoing ships. Bietak has drawn the conclusion that by
that time the presence of Asiatic sailors with their special expertise has become
a usual occurrence in Egypt and that they had found a place in the Egyptian
social system.
The famous caravan of Asiatic men, women, and children depicted in
the Middle Kingdom tomb of Khnumhotep II at Beni Hassan (tomb 3) in
Middle Egypt from the reign of Senwosret II has frequently been used as
an illustration for infiltration and settlement of Asiatics in Egypt. If this is
73
indeed so, it would mean that such a process was not restricted to the liminal
Delta/southern Palestine zone. Moreover, there is no contemporary (archae-
ological) evidence in Middle Egypt for Asiatic settlement. Khnumhotep was
“overseer/administrator of the Eastern Desert” and it is in this capacity that
the Ꜥ ꝫmw of šw were presented to him by two Egyptian officials, an overseer
of the hunters and a scribe, in year 6—a very concrete date for the event.
They were “brought because of black eye paint” or “bringing the black eye
paint” (i.e., lead sulfide, galena), according to the inscriptions. Except for the
bellows, which may be connected to lead production, no specialized tools are
shown. Whether they were supposed to bring galena or work with it there
remains unknown. The leader of the group, Ibsha (Abishar), is mentioned
by name and as ḥḳ ꝫ ḫ ꝫst “ruler of the foreign lands.” Although only fifteen
people are depicted, the accompanying text on the “presentation slip” of the
scribe mentions thirty-seven; thus the scene in the tomb has been adapted
perhaps to the available space. The clothing of the men and women, the
tools, musical instruments, and weapons they carry, as well as their hair-
styles, diadems, and beards, seem to represent the dress and equipment in
use by Aamu at the time. Some of these implements were identified in the
archaeological record, while the scene on the whole was used for pinpointing
the origin of the people and their socio-economic situation. The use of the
scene as a chronological link between Egypt and the Levant is also notewor-
thy. As is frequently the case, the geographical information is vague, so it is
not reasonably possible to assign a specific origin for this group of Aamu.
It remains simply unclear if they were nomads at all, came from the Eastern
Desert (as the galena might suggest), Sinai, (southern) Levant, or somewhere
else. Doubtful associations with (much later) biblical references have also
been suggested. If these people originally came from the Eastern Desert, a
connection to the southern Levant is not supported. This example demon-
strates that the interpretation of scenes, even if they carry inscriptions, needs
care and context. Moreover, there are scenes with Asiatic warriors in other
tombs at Beni Hassan.
For the New Kingdom, a group of Theban tombs of high officials
(Senenmut, Useramun, Rekhmire, Menkheperreseneb, and others) from the
reign of Thutmose III are important, because they contain scenes where
foreign people from Nubia, Libya (in later tombs), Syria/Palestine, and the
Aegean bring a variety of gifts. This type of scene also occurs on royal monu-
ments and continues to exist until the Twentieth Dynasty. Although foreign
people mostly occur in sizeable tableaus mistakenly called “tribute” scenes,
Aegeans appear in only a few tombs but have gained greater notoriety because
historical and chronological clues were drawn from these scenes for the syn-
chronization between Egypt and the Aegean. Based on various details some
scholars distinguished Minoans and Mycenaeans, based on a traditional
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74 { Bettina Bader
culture-historical interpretation that seems unwarranted due to the vagueness

of the associated geographical terms. It is noteworthy that in later tombs the
inscriptional identification of the peoples does not always fit the iconography.
This may mean exactitude and knowledge about the people diminished or was
not particularly important.
First we shall consider the context of the scenes as the presentation of a
variety of gifts to the respective tomb owners as intermediaries between the
processions and the pharaoh. Recent holistic study of the genre and the accom-
panying texts suggests that in the absence of concrete occasion and dates for
the processions and the presence of all the “great ones” of then known foreign
peoples these scenes represent a variation of Egyptian ideology. The pharaoh
ruled over the whole (known) world and its inhabitants. The scenes in the pri-
vate high-status tombs of the Eighteenth Dynasty seem to stress the social role
of the tomb owner as an important intermediary between such processions and
the receiving pharaoh (sometimes accompanying gods), demonstrating their
personal place in that world order. Besides the social standing of these offi-
cials, we also get a glimpse through Egyptian eyes on the increasing contact
with neighboring peoples and the core knowledge available about them, includ-
ing some typical objects these scenes contain. Some of them may be identi-
fied archaeologically. It has been maintained that the scenes show the Egyptian
view of a gift-exchange re-interpreted for the Egyptian audience as a “tribute”
in a propagandistic appropriation according to the prevailing decorum. Some
of the Amarna letters provide a (later) counter picture for the Egyptian part of
this exchange, which appears much more modest. The extent of historical facts
in these scenes remains disputed.
Libyans, semi-nomadic people from areas west of the Nile Valley, only
moved into the focus of Egyptian power during the later New Kingdom,
when wars and punitive skirmishes with them were mentioned for example by
Merenptah and Ramesses III (fig. 4.4). During this time it seems as if Libyan
people moved increasingly into Egypt, especially in the north. In the Third
Intermediate Period the political fragmentation of Egypt created a favorable
situation for the heads of Libyan chiefdoms (Libu, Meshwesh, Ma, and others)
to come to power from within. A high degree of acculturation was assumed
because archaeologically it is hitherto not possible to distinguish their material
culture. But interestingly the Libyans are always depicted with the typical dress
and feathers on their heads, so their acculturation was considered to have only
been superficial.
Finally, the following Libyan and Nubian Twenty-second to Twenty-fifth
Dynasties adapted to a certain extent to the Egyptian iconography of power
and pharaonic rule in order to demonstrate their legitimacy, but in contrast
to the earlier rulers they did not seem to conceive or present themselves as
Egyptians.
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FIGURE 4.4 Libyans. Medinet Habu.
The Social Situation of Migrants/Non-Egyptian People

Living in Egypt
Because archaeology does not inform explicitly on the social situation of the
early pre-historic immigrants in Egypt or the Egyptian presence in south-
ern Palestine, some hypotheses have been proposed to explain the finds of
the respective material culture in the other area. While the Egyptian mate-
rials in southern Palestine were explained as a “humane” colonial arrange-
ment by Egyptian powers, did the people arriving in the Egyptian Delta do
so as specialized workers or as members of a “trade mission” but certainly
not as colonizers themselves? In the absence of textual evidence to provide a
background for these hypotheses, the circumstances of these contacts must
remain subject to further research and publication of archaeological data.
The later sources often mention prisoners of war or people (men and women)
brought back in the course of expeditions to distant lands both north and
south. Some of these people were “awarded” to especially renowned military
men as booty. This surely suggests an enforced and asymmetrical power rela-
tionship between the immigrant and his/her master. The individual situations
would have strongly depended on the personality of the individual, but for
Egyptologists it is hard to imagine that the subject of our study should have
76
76 { Bettina Bader
been cruel when the wisdom literature shows the ideals of a well-lived and
just life. But perhaps these texts existed exactly because the reality was quite
different? What the lives of these people were like in the course of their forced
stay remains largely unclear except that some lists named fugitives. This must
mean that their life could not have been easy, or else they would not have fled.
For the lowest social stratum, besides names in lists no more information on
their life circumstances comes forward, so to “prove” archaeologically their
non-Egyptian-ness is fraught with severe problems. In the New Kingdom,
texts indicate that prisoners of war were part of royal building projects, were
assigned to temples, and especially served as mercenaries. The tomb of the
three foreign wives of Thutmose III provides a high-status example that only
their foreign personal names reflect their foreign-ness, not the archaeological
artifacts from their tomb.
Inclusion into Egyptian Society and Different Ways of

Dealing with Identity
Only if funerary stelae or tombs give clues of a non-Egyptian origin it is pos-

sible to gain insights into their social situation, but this also means that they
would have belonged to an elevated social stratum able to afford such a monu-
ment. At the same time this implies that they were part of Egyptian society
and knew the decorum of what was appropriate to be said and shown in order
to belong. This may mean that an additional “Egyptianizing” filter existed.
Insufficient clarity in the Egyptian terminology for family relationships adds
to the problem of identifying non-Egyptians securely, as some changed their
names during their lifetime.
The sources show that it was possible for non-Egyptians to climb the
social ladder under different circumstances, be it the Nubian mercenaries
from the First Intermediate Period in Gebelein, some of whom were shown
as Nubians with the prefix ḥsy added to their Egyptian names, or the New
Kingdom high official Aperel, who was not required to change his name
or his appearance in the depictions in his tomb at Saqqara. A more subtle
approach to self-identity is shown by Maiherperi, a royal fan bearer buried
in the Valley of the Kings (KV 36) in an utterly Egyptian manner with exclu-
sively Egyptian objects. Only the depiction of him in the Book of the Dead
with very dark skin color and his mummy itself exemplify his non-Egyptian
ancestry.
In contrast, Hekanefer, a contemporary of Tutankhamun, had himself
depicted in his Nubian tomb at Toshka as an Egyptian, but in the so-called
“tribute” or “procession” scene in the Theban tomb of Amenhotep-Huy, the
7
viceroy of Nubia, Hekanefer is shown in the usual Nubian topos with dark
skin color. This amply exemplifies that there was no escape from the ideology
even if the tomb owner considered himself as Egyptian. On a larger scale, the
Egyptian pharaoh had to be the cosmological ruler with Egypt at the center,
whether this was a historical fact or not.
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5 }
Between Brothers
DIPLOMATIC INTERACTIONS
Richard H. Wilkinson and Noreen Doyle
Diplomacy forms one of the central and ultimately most important facets of
the interconnections exhibited between ancient Egypt and her neighbors. As a
mechanism of the coexistence of states, diplomacy not only protected but also
advanced Egyptian interests at home and elsewhere, and its reach and impor-
tance is seldom overestimated in assessments of Egyptian history.
To understand the true importance of diplomacy for ancient Egypt, we must
carefully define its role. Diplomacy is often defined as communication between
two or more parties at the official level, often in times or situations of tension.
But tension is not a secondary issue—it is often of central importance, because
where there is no tension there is no real need for diplomacy. In the following
sections we outline some of the key aspects of diplomacy as understood and
practiced by the ancient Egyptians, and it will be seen that in virtually every
area the mitigation of tension is central to what was being pursued. Although
we find evidence for Egyptian diplomatic interaction from Old Kingdom
times forward, most of the extant evidence comes from the period of the New
Kingdom, and it is on this era that the present chapter will primarily focus.
Foundations of Egyptian Diplomacy

PSYCHOLOGICAL FACTORS
At the most basic psychological level, diplomacy can be seen to stem from an
understanding of the needs of populations regarding their own shared identity
versus that of other groups. Shared versus “other” identity causes a juxtaposi-
tion of not only us and them but also our space and their space (a dichotomy
commonly attested linguistically in the ancient Near East —as in Sumerian
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80 { Richard H. Wilkinson and Noreen Doyle
kalam and kur.kur, Egyptian t ꝫ and ḫ ꝫswt, as well as kmt and dšrt), our resources
and their resources, our activities and their activities. It is an underlying ten-
sion often existing beneath the surface when no overt tensions are visible, and it
was primarily responsible for the formation of city-states and eventually nation
states—both of which require diplomacy to survive and flourish.
This situation must be combined with the fact that, for the ancient Egyptians,
interaction with other groups was usually seen through the lens of their own
presumed centricity. Although such a viewpoint is held by many cultures, it
was reinforced in Egypt by the geographical, topographical, and ecological
realities of a fertile, populated, and easily navigated area largely surrounded
by relatively barren and difficult terrain. As a result of this semi-isolated and
centrist attitude, “The geographical elements and cultural characteristics of the
inhabitants of the peripheral world [were] considered not only different but
inferior to those in the central country” (Liverani 2001, p. 19). This is a tru-
ism, yet it underlies not only the concept of dominance in general relationships
between core and periphery areas but also the specific attitude implicit in the
way Egyptian diplomacy was often conducted. This is not to say that diplo-
macy was always viewed as a one-sided affair for the Egyptians, but it is an
attitude that is clearly evident in Egypt’s dealings with its less powerful neigh-
bors and can often be seen to be present, if only subtly so, when Egypt’s parity
relationships are closely examined.
DOMINANCE AND PARITY
The relational background to most Egyptian diplomatic interactions is most

clearly understood from the perspective of dominance and parity relationships.
While New Kingdom Egypt fulfilled a dominant role in interactions with many
of its smaller neighbors for much of its history, its relationship with other areas
was not so clear-cut, and in some cases Egypt and other nations interacted on
the basis of understood (if not always mutually admitted; fig. 5.1) equality.
The roots of this pattern ran centuries deep: Lines B219–222 of the Twelfth
Dynasty Story of Sinuhe are traditionally interpreted as a list of vassal princes
whom the Egyptian king could summon, but this passage may instead reflect
a proposed call for diplomatic gifts from distant kingdoms independent of (in
parity with?) Middle Kingdom Egypt. Our understanding of the number of
nations interacting with Egypt on a parity level has increased in recent years
as we have come to more fully grasp the nuances of ancient diplomatic inter-
change and the underlying factors affecting the relationship between Egypt and
other states.
In the past, the understanding of the basis for dominance and parity rela-
tionships between states was sometimes tied to concepts such as topographi-
cal, ecological, and climate factors (e.g., fertile riverine areas versus arid
desert). While these factors are obviously important, they may also have been
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Diplomatic Interactions } 81
FIGURE 5.1 Stela commemorating the marriage of Ramesses II and the daughter of the Hittite king
Hattusili: directed at a domestic audience, the iconography and text affirm Egypt’s superiority. Note
that even in the presence of her father the princess is already Egyptianized. Great Temple of Rameses
II, Abu Simbel; Nineteenth Dynasty, reign of Ramesses II.
overstressed at times. On the other hand, some have looked at dominance inter-
actions largely as a result of “military might” (our army is larger than yours,
so we call the shots), workforce numbers (with enough slaves you can do any-
thing), or other societal vectors of power, but these and other factors are now
usually considered to be the results of economic dominance rather than its
cause. In embracing this reality, however, we must be careful not to undervalue
other factors that were influential.
In classic World Systems Theory, the “core” countries of the modern world
are the industrialized capitalist nations on which periphery countries and
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semi-periphery countries depend to some degree, but this model is based almost
entirely on economic realities. In the ancient world it is clear that peripheral
states might depend on Egypt (or Egypt on her neighbors) for a number of
reasons—including, for example, transportation, resource access, protection,
and even simple good will.
It would also be naïve to presume that Egyptian relations with other states
were developed for the same reasons and in the same ways in all similar cases.
Egypt’s non-parity relations with Nubia to the south and Canaan to the north
were often based on entirely different desires and expectations, as their diplo-
matic interchanges reveal.
Diplomacy was involved, of course, in the initiation and continuation of
these and many other areas of interaction precisely because so many of them
involved tensions of some kind. For both the Egyptians and their neighbors,
stability at home was frequently established and maintained through diplo-
matic activity, and we can see the importance of that factor by surveying—even
at a surface level—the great deal of information that has survived to us regard-
ing the agents and instruments of diplomacy.
Agents of Egyptian Diplomacy

THE KING
When Egypt (or any other ancient core power nation) felt itself to be in a
position of dominance vis-à-vis the nations around it, that dominance was
invariably expressed by means of the verbal and representational depictions
of the king produced for both domestic and foreign consumption. It is well
known, for example, that royal titles and epithets suggesting universal dom-
inance are found in a number of the more powerful cultures of the Late
Bronze Age Near East, and the Egyptian nb n ḫ ꝫswt nbt “Lord of all the
Lands” is a prime example. (See also the Akkadian šar kiššati “king of the
universe,” etc.)
Beyond the assumption of universal titles and epithets, there were also other
means of projecting the Egyptian kings’ power relative to other cultures. One
such was the act of crossing the boundaries of other nations and publishing the
fact—as in the erection of stelae by Thutmose III in the area of the Euphrates
confirming that “the king […] crossed the Euphrates […] seeking that misera-
ble enemy in the foreign lands of the Mitanni” (Cumming 1982, p. 3). This was,
of course, a statement of dominance for the benefit of the local populace more
than for readers back home. Even physical representations of the king—striking
enemies on the battlefield or dispatching foreign captives at home—could be,
and doubtless were, used as diplomatic messages of dominance available for
view by foreign ambassadors and others visiting Egypt. The example is often
given of the manner in which the colossal statues of Ramesses II at Abu Simbel
83
on Egypt’s southern border were carved to be imposingly visible to all who

ventured down the Nile from the south.
The concept of Egyptian centrality and supremacy worked well, of course,
in asymmetric situations, in dealing with subjugated or submissive nations, but
the conceptual basis of diplomatic interaction had to be adjusted when dealing
with cultures that also saw themselves as central and powerful. At the dawn
of the New Kingdom, for example, power along the Egyptian Nile was essen-
tially shared between the native Egyptian dynasty at Thebes, the Hyksos in the
Delta, and the Nubians who controlled the area below the First Cataract. As
Egypt grew in power and influence during the New Kingdom, those balances
of power rapidly changed; but Egypt then more closely encountered more dis-
tant groups as its influence spread beyond its earlier borders.
This increased contact with parity-and non-parity-level cultures led to a
great deal of diplomatic correspondence (see below) based on the relation-
ship usually termed “diplomatic brotherhood,” in which the kings of the
various states, although not physically related at all, addressed each other
as “my brother” or “my father” or “my son.” This fraternal ideology was
the hallmark of Late Bronze Age diplomacy. Although in some cases these
terms were used in situations where older individuals addressed younger
ones, or vice versa, in other cases the language of brotherhood was clearly
used as an expression of mutually (or unilaterally) understood (or hoped-
for) parity or non-parity relationships. We see this, for example, in the way
Assur-uballit, first king of the Middle Assyrian Empire, only uses the term
šarru rabû (“great king”) of himself and calls the Egyptian pharaoh “my
brother” as he becomes independent of Mittani. When the king of the rela-
tively minor state of Alashiya addressed the pharaoh as “my brother,” it
was based on the knowledge that he had resources the pharaoh wanted and
needed, not on any diplomatic misconception of actual levels of parity. The
brotherhood metaphor is particularly appropriate for political relationships
because, as has been pointed out, it does not deter “brothers” from quarrel-
ling, and a great deal of diplomatic exchange was based on exactly that kind
of interaction—rooted in disputes over everything from territory to trade,
from extradition to exorcism requests.
Yet even at the height of Egypt’s “brotherly” relationships with other sym-
metric powers, the tension between what the Egyptian king was forced to accept
and what he desired is clearly seen. To mitigate that tension the pharaoh often
clung to his ideologically mandated position of supremacy by means of power-
related terminology in diplomatic contexts. We shall see this clearly below in
considering treaties between the powers.
Although the king was the supreme agent of diplomacy throughout
the ancient Near East, we should not forget the role of the queen. During
the reign of Akhenaten, his mother Tiye received correspondence from
Tushratta of Mittani asking her to intercede with her son. Even Ramesses II
84
adapted the Hittite practice of involving the queen in royal correspondence

in parallel to the role of the Hittite queen Puduhepa as part of diplomatic
negotiations.
ENVOYS AND OTHER DIPLOMATIC PERSONNEL
If in the ideal kings communicated with each other directly, in reality bureau-
cracies of envoys, scribes, and other court officials intervened. While diplo-
matic appointments of a specific envoy to a specific place are known, kingdoms
neither hosted nor stationed permanent embassies; perhaps the closest such
institution might have been the commissioners Egypt included among its
foreign-based garrisons, who visited vassal courts in the region. When a delega-
tion had to stay at all—some received orders not to linger even overnight—two
to three weeks seems to have been acceptable.
There was no career diplomatic corps, although diplomatic personnel might
regularly serve their king in that capacity. The men appointed as envoys of
the pharaoh (wpwtyw nsw r ḫ ꝫst nb “king’s messengers to every foreign coun-
try,” wpwtyw nsw r t ꝫ nb “king’s messengers to every land”) held other, non-
diplomatic positions as well. During the Amarna Period, merchants commonly
performed the duties of diplomatic messengers, while most of the known
(Egyptian) envoys of the Ramesside era had military backgrounds, particularly
that of charioteer. A connection between charioteers and envoys existed among
the Hitittes as well. Men of these professions would have had the experience of
foreign travel, with its exposure to languages, customs, and geography desirable
in an agent acting as his monarch’s eyes and ears abroad. Lesser kings might
visit the Egyptian court personally, and foreign rulers occasionally sent their
sons or brothers as envoys to Egypt. This was an ancient practice; “children” of
Asiatic rulers arrived at the court of Amenemhat II to present (obsequiously,
in the Egyptian record) precious metals, animals, and slaves. Hishmi-sharruma,
son of Hattusili III, joined the Hittite delegation more than once and was even
invited back by Rameses II.
As intermediaries responsible for conveying messages and gifts between
courts, envoys personally felt the hospitality of a grateful host or the wrath of
a disappointed one. Ideally, a king entertained foreign messengers with food
and drink, and he was further expected to provide them with precious gifts in
addition to those they were to bring home for their lord. When Babylonian
messengers complained to their king, Kadashman-Enlil, that Amenhotep III
had shirked this duty, the pharaoh assured Kadashman-Enlil that these men
were lying.
Deceit was expected of envoys, but honesty remained the ideal: “If you are a
man of entry (i.e., trust), sent [by] a great man to [another] great man, be utterly
precise [when] he sends you. Perform for him the mission as he says. […].
Seize the truth; do not transgress it” (The Instruction of Ptahhotep). Through
85
execution of their duties individual messengers gained—and lost—good repu-

tations at home and abroad.
Written correspondence, although potentially a tool of deceit, authenticated
the messenger and his message. But the envoy did not necessarily know the con-
tent of the letter he was delivering either from or to the king he served; some
letters thus had to speak for themselves. An envoy might, on the other hand,
know more than the written message he conveyed and might have to defend his
king’s position or negotiate terms with his host.
Not all messengers or their messages reached the court to which they were sent.
Their hosts might keep them waiting months or years. Although Thutmose III
professed immunity from such hindrances, later in the Eighteenth Dynasty,
while gifts were prepared, Egyptian delegations suffered detention because of
plague or even to secure the release of a likewise detained Mitanni contingent.
Compromise of speed heightened tension between royal courts. It not only
delayed the completion of a mission but also, perhaps even more importantly,
could signal a deteriorating relationship between “brothers.”
Who gained admittance to the royal court was part of the diplomatic game.
Some letters indicate that an Egyptian scribe, rather than the foreign envoy,
would deliver the message to the pharaoh on behalf of its sender. Allies were
expected to reject envoys from a mutual enemy, and failure to do so risked retal-
iation. Even rulers of lesser states might request that a great king not receive
messengers from their foes.
Diplomatic missions only occasionally included a translator. The standard-
ization of Akkadian as the diplomatic lingua franca may have allowed envoys
to become conversant in the requisite language regardless of which (northern)
court they visited. Similarly, evidence from the Place of the Correspondence
of the Pharaoh at Amarna suggests that the scribes in charge of the cuneiform
documents there were very likely Egyptian rather than foreign.
Instruments of Egyptian Diplomacy

DIPLOMATIC CORRESPONDENCE
Egyptian diplomacy utilized a number of instruments in fulfilling its purposes.

Perhaps primary among these was the use of diplomatic correspondence. By
the nature of the situation, we have more information regarding this corre-
spondence than any other form of diplomatic interaction. Nevertheless, most
Egyptian diplomatic archives were destroyed when Egypt was invaded at vari-
ous times, the major exception being the Amarna Letters (fig. 5.2), which,
although extensive and of great value, present a chronologically narrow window
into the world of Egyptian diplomacy. Fortunately, for the time they cover, the
Amarna Letters do supply us with a good deal of the correspondence between
Egypt and the rulers of the major powers, as well as letters to and from many
86
FIGURE 5.2 One of the Amarna Letters (EA 27), from Tushratta of Mitanni to Akhenaten of Egypt,
reminding the pharaoh of his obligations.
87
smaller states within the sphere of Egypt’s direct influence. From these sources
we can get a sense of the range of diplomatic interaction extant during the time
in which the archive flourished. Diplomatic interaction is seen in the Amarna
Letters in no fewer than six distinct areas: legal diplomacy, trade diplomacy,
economic diplomacy, social diplomacy, disaster diplomacy, and political diplo-
macy. In practice, combinations of several of these areas of concern could
occur, of course, at the same time.
Although we have relatively fewer diplomatic letters from earlier and later in
the New Kingdom, an abundance of Thutmoside and Ramesside monuments
and other textual sources shows that the Egyptian self-concept of centrality
and supremacy was the norm that was maintained where possible in diplomatic
correspondence. This is seen particularly in the presentation of the person of
the king, yet the underlying reality of the situation, as the New Kingdom pro-
gressed, is also seen in several areas of diplomatic interchange. That Egypt
could not deny, in fact, that it was only one of a number of strong centrist
powers in the Late Bronze Age is seen in the adoption and continued use of
Akkadian as the lingua franca of international correspondence, a practice
perhaps inherited from the Hyksos period, as well as the many clues appar-
ent in the parity relationships exhibited within the terminology of “diplomatic
brotherhood,” frequent examples of “ideological abandonment” (such as the
avoidance of supremacist monarchial terminology), and, of course, the trea-
ties, diplomatic marriages, and other examples of parity behavior detailed in
the correspondence itself.
Archived cuneiform tablets found at a number of sites in the Near East have
also thrown light on Egyptian diplomatic interaction with her neighbors. The
site of the Hittite capital Boghazkoy, for example, contained correspondence
between Hattusili III and Ramesses II—some of which discusses the nature
and provisions of the great peace treaty that the two powers eventually ratified.
TREATIES
Treaties between Egypt and neighboring groups and states were among the
most important products of diplomatic activity. For the New Kingdom, the
earliest evidence is that of the treaty established between the Egyptians and
the Hyksos, allowing the latter to leave their besieged capital of Avaris and
guaranteeing them safe passage out of Egypt. (This treaty is recorded by the
historian Josephus, quoting Manetho, in Antiquities of the Jews.) This was to
be the first of a number of treaties and treaty-like agreements the rulers of
New Kingdom Egypt would conclude as her power increased and her sphere
of influence expanded.
In the case of non-parity relationships, such as those formed between Egypt
and minor states in the Syro-Palestinian region, we find one-sided arrangements
(rather than formal treaties) by which the lesser parties swore to be subject
8
to the pharaoh and never to rebel, while the pharaoh, for his part, essentially
promised nothing. This situation differs from the more common form of the
Asiatic vassal treaty in which both vassal and suzerain subscribed to the agree-
ment and the latter usually promised at least token protection or goodwill in
return for submission. Egyptian diplomacy in this type of case also involved
setting the tribute to be paid to Egypt, when it was levied.
But Egyptian relations with parity states such as those of the Hittites,
Mitanni, Assyrians, Babylonians, and others were, of course, decidedly differ-
ent. In some cases Egypt had no choice but to submit to parity-style treaties of
the types regularly employed by the more powerful of her neighbors. Yet even in
these cases, the underlying tensions caused by Egyptian monarchial ideology—
which we have noted repeatedly—were the cause of much subtle diplomatic
language manipulation. Ramesses II, for example, in the parity treaty estab-
lished with the Hittites, styles himself as ḥḳ ꝫ (“great king”) while referring else-
where in the treaty to Hattusili III as a wr (“great chieftain”), despite the fact
that the details of the treaty reveal a clearly symmetrical political situation. In
fact, the documentation of the treaty is carefully written up so that Ramesses is
depicted in one part for an Egyptian audience—as the king who “establishes his
boundary as far as he desires, in any foreign land” (Kitchen 1996, p. 64)—while
in the content of the treaty itself we find the admission that Ramesses “will not
transgress against the land of Hatti to take anything from it, forever” (Kitchen
1996, p. 64). In this way diplomacy was served for both of the treaty’s groups of
readers, those at home and those abroad. Although the pax aegypta-hethitica is
only a single example, it clearly demonstrates the way tension between the posi-
tion of the Egyptian king and that of his foreign peers was achieved through
the diplomatic presentation of the treaty to its respective audiences.
DIPLOMATIC EXCHANGES OF MATERIAL GOODS
The Egyptocentric ideology evident in the Egyptian language of treaties

extended to official exchanges of goods. On the one hand, vassal states of a
greater kingdom were required to present local commodities and other goods
to their suzerain in recognition of, and to enhance, his authority (pl. 5). The
gravitation of material resources to a great king was essentially recognized as
a cosmic principal.
On the other hand, the giving and receiving of material objects and liv-
ing things was also a “brotherly” practice of parity relationships. Abundant
wealth (to share) correlated with peaceful international relations. Participation
in exchanges of goods and, as we will see shortly, of people was an element of
communication that eased tensions between kingdoms. A king was expected
to behave as his predecessor(s). Failure to participate in established exchanges
of gifts and other communications signaled an end to diplomatic fraternity.
This is the reason for the apparent preoccupation with material goods in the
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Amarna Letters. The importance of things comes not (only) from the value of
the objects themselves but (also) from the meaning the act of gift giving imbues
upon them. One does not send a present to one’s enemy, but one does to a
brother; a brother, but not an enemy, will reciprocate.
The act of exchange separates “gift” from “tribute.” Reciprocity—a founda-
tion of diplomacy—was required between peers. This is not to say that giving
particularly could be assumed. Kings often wrote to one another to request
specific gifts, sometimes pleading with urgency. This was not because of genu-
ine hardship, however: a great kingdom must be, at least in appearance, self-
sufficient and not in need of wealth from the outside world. Instead, kings
availed themselves of formalized pretexts of specific, personal exigencies, typi-
cally the construction of a new palace or monument, a “work” into which the
gift—gold, for example—would be made. (Whether the giver fulfilled a specific
request was a different matter.) Such a context brings to mind the so-called
Tod treasure. This early Twelfth Dynasty temple foundation deposit or cache
consists of precious metal ingots and objects, predominantly silver, as well as
lapis lazuli, almost all of foreign origin, although what channels brought these
things to Egypt—as gift, tribute, trade, or plunder—remain unknown. Gifts
were also given in the context of diplomatic marriages, and kings were expected
to dispatch envoys with suitable presents to festivities hosted by their “broth-
ers.” Failure to do so was criticized, but so was the failure to issue invitations.
Correspondingly, as with envoys, a king expected his allies to reject gifts from
his foes. It was also unseemly to accept gifts from another king’s vassals.
Beyond the mere fact of a gift were its quality and quantity. Gifts included
commodities (e.g., gold, silver, semiprecious stones, timber, ivory), finished
luxury items, animals, the services of skilled professionals, and visits by cult
images. Sometimes the goods sent were not local productions or material but
rather something obtained elsewhere, a demonstration that geographical ter-
ritory did not limit the giver’s resources. Inventories that accompanied gifts
describe the objects and enumerate their quantity as well as, often, the amount
of precious metal that went into making them, to assure the recipient of their
high value.
Presenting valuable gifts enhanced the giver’s prestige. A recipient could,
to an extent, neutralize this with a backhanded compliment: “Gold in your
land is dirt,” Ashur-uballit of Assyria wrote to Akhenaten (Rainey 2015, v. 1,
p. 311). Giving what one has in abundance magnifies one’s reputation to a lesser
degree. Letters commonly complain that gifts are delayed, lacking, imitation,
or otherwise inferior.
While the architecture and pageantry of a royal court directly impressed vis-
iting envoys who would convey their perceptions home, material gifts allowed
firsthand manifestation of a king’s potency abroad. The recipient turned this to
his own advantage by displaying his newly received gifts to his domestic audi-
ence and any foreign envoys in attendance (pl. 5): here was his newly acquired
90
wealth—behold what he could command from other great kings. Great kings
expected their “brothers” to do this. But Amenhotep III went one step further.
During a formal presentation, he mingled the gifts of at least one fellow great
king, Kadashman-Enlil of Babylon, with the tribute received from Egypt’s
vassals. Everyone understood the message: even the Babylonian king was just
another foreign chieftain. Kadashman-Enlil understood, too, and protested the
affront.
He was objecting to a manifestation of the Egyptian perception of anything
received from foreign lands. The Egyptians classified incoming (and outgo-
ing) goods however best suited their own internal purposes. Goods obtained
patently via trade from Punt were brought home as bi ꝫw (“wonders”) received
after the expedition made a divine offering there to Hathor. Subjugated for-
eign locales rendered b ꝫkw (“that which is produced”), which was obligatory.
Another important classification was ı̓nw (“what is brought” or “supply”), a
term perhaps best broadly defined as “payments made under duress and trade
goods, as well as voluntary gifts” (Warburton 1997, p. 236). ’Inw could include
b ꝫkw. Conceptual and/or physical amalgamation of goods sent freely as gifts
by other great kings and those sent under obligation by vassals is typically
pharaonic. In the same spirit, Egyptian monuments make no display of the
gifts sent out of Egypt to foreign courts. That aspect of diplomacy was not
intended for a domestic audience.
DIPLOMATIC EXCHANGES OF WOMEN AND OFFSPRING
Like the diplomatic exchange of gifts, the very ancient practice of intermar-
riage between royal families of different kingdoms vastly expanded in the Late
Bronze Age. Through the exchange of female relatives, kings made literal the
familial bonds that they expressed toward one another in correspondence.
Egypt and its neighbors perceived and implemented these exchanges through
different, even mutually exclusive, points of view.
In contexts of non-parity, diplomatic marriages served as an avenue of dom-
ination. Vassals included women among the tribute they sent to the pharaoh;
three royal wives with West Semitic names buried at Thebes may have resulted
from Thutmose III’s campaigns in the region. However, in the Near East the
sending of a bride did not signal subjugation. Rather, a great king sent a female
relative to impose his will and bloodline upon a vassal: she would become not
merely a second-rank wife but rather queen in her new land, where she would
give birth to the heir whose lineage would “forever” rule the vassal state. Even
when this did not happen—some treaties acknowledged this possibility and
provided an alternate line of succession—the eventual heir might be called the
Hittite-born queen’s “son.” (The traditional curses that conclude Hittite trea-
ties spare a vassal’s Hittite queen and her children.) This was intended to create
a web of royal families centered upon, and loyal to, the great kingdom. Thus
91
when a great king sent a daughter to Egypt, he expected her to become the pha-
raoh’s principle queen, who would give birth to the son who would inherit the
Egyptian throne. They were all disappointed. Only Ramesses II’s first Hittite
wife, a daughter of Hattusili III, seems to have obtained the desired rank of
“great royal wife,” and the name she received in Egypt, Maathorneferure, was
always qualified with an epithet noting her foreign father (fig. 5.1).
To manipulate the ruling families of subjugated states, pharaohs instead
imposed Egyptian culture and social ties (or other forms of coercion) directly
through a vassal’s male line of succession. Beginning no later than the Old
Kingdom, Egyptian military expeditions returned from foreign campaigns with
captive offspring and other relatives of defeated foes. Textual and iconographic
sources indicate that sons of Nubian and Asiatic vassals also arrived in Egypt
as tribute. These individuals need not have been children in the strictest sense,
as some had chariots or wives. Upon the death of a local ruler, the pharaoh
would assign one of these presumably Egyptianized sons to assume the late
father’s place.
An institution called the k ꝫp, the innermost domain of the palace, is thought
to have played an important role in this aspect of pharaonic foreign policy. The
k ꝫp seems to have had among its functions the education of non-royal children
alongside those of the king. These children are commonly assumed to have
included those of vassals, but most individuals who bore the title ẖrd n k ꝫp
“child of the k ꝫp” were evidently Egyptian. Of the few known foreign “children
of the k ꝫp,” only a late Eighteenth Dynasty Nubian named Hekanefer can be
traced with any degree of confidence to a local ruling family. Whether many
other such children were held in or fostered through the k ꝫp remains an open
question.
The children of vassals served as obligatory pledges, if not guarantors, of
loyalty. The Egyptians evidently saw a foreign wife largely from this same per-
spective, even when her father was a fellow great king and the marriage had been
achieved only through intense negotiations. Consequently, unlike exchanges of
material gifts, royal women flowed only one way: into Egypt. This violation
of reciprocity was noteworthy even at the time. Egyptian princesses were so
highly prized that counterfeits might be acceptable, but only if they were beau-
tiful and if both sending and receiving parties mutually winked and nudged.
The fragmentary “Marriage Vase” found at Ugarit has been interpreted as
depicting an Egyptian princess as a foreign king’s wife. But the iconography
is too ambiguous to preclude the interpretation of its female subject as a non-
Egyptian woman in Egyptianizing costume, either à la mode or, perhaps, as a
mock pharaoh’s daughter—if the piece even presents any historical particu-
larity at all beyond an Ugaritic king’s appreciation for the Egyptian artistic
style. Hattusili III wanted his granddaughter, born to Ramesses II’s great royal
wife Maathorneferure, brought to Hatti so that she could participate in yet
another diplomatic marriage to secure an alliance between Hatti, Egypt, and a
92
third country. The girl’s fate is unknown. Only if the Egyptians considered her
Hittite—as they evidently did her mother—would she have been expendable for
the sake of diplomacy.
Through all these instruments—diplomatic marriages, material gifts, the
language of treaties and diplomatic correspondence—Egypt carefully sought
to achieve a balance that mitigated the tensions existing within its parity rela-
tionships without compromising the fundamental ideology of its domestic
audience, that Egypt was the state without peer.
93
6 }
The Armies of Re
Anthony Spalinger
The Military in the Old Kingdom
The immutability of pharaonic Egypt is, upon close examination, a false tru-
ism. The subject of this disquisition, “Armies of Re,” also reveals changes,
all owing to the adoption of new weaponry and methods of warfare. Indeed,
the ancient Egyptian military system developed over time and differed con-
siderably from one period of strength to the next. Egyptologists are wont to
deprecate the earlier phases of civilization during which there appears to have
been no large and organized army enabling the rulers to expand successfully
south into Nubia or north, far up into central Syria. And it has been said
that during the Old and Middle Kingdoms we witness the establishment of a
regular military force, one that enabled the Egyptians to move quickly across
water. By and large, however, our knowledge of the third millennium system
of warfare, not to mention the Egyptian military corporation upholding it,
still remains a murky field of research. This is particularly vexatious when
one considers the little-known foreign wars undertaken by the Old Kingdom
pharaohs. Recent evidence has shown that the Egyptian flotilla must have
played a very important role with regard to the sea routes of the eastern
Mediterranean. Still the Egyptians seem not to have annexed the heartland
of Nubia; the major impetus southwards being mining rather than imperial-
ism in the region between the first and second cataracts. Despite their abilities
in utilizing the Nile as a conduit for infantry troops on transport ships, the
technological level of the Egyptian army was hardly superior to that of its
neighbors. Industry was not based on bronze. Weapons were relatively light,
and protective elements such as greaves and helmets were not worn. True,
we read of at least one major foray into southern Palestine, an expedition
recorded in the famous autobiography of Weni. There is a second account,
described in the tomb of Iny, that clearly indicates Egyptian movements into
the Levant, if not beyond into Syria. Yet there was no ability to seize and hold
foreign territories.
93
94
94 { Anthony Spalinger
The system of warfare was relatively straightforward, even primitive.

Unlike the New Kingdom, the Old Kingdom armies were not regularized.
If there was some type of a military corporation, it had not achieved sig-
nificant influence within the archaic state of Egypt. Lacking bronze as well
as horses and chariots, the Old Kingdom army was composed of an archer
elite along with infantry who fought with spears, daggers, and sometimes
axes. The few extant scenes of contemporary warfare reveal close hand-to-
hand fighting. Troops of marching men, depicted running at a regular pace,
clearly demonstrate Egyptian military preparedness. It is hard to determine
how a battalion—or whatever might have been the division—operated and
who led it. Weni’s biography indicates that he was put in charge of a host
of troops and that there was some form to the structure of the infantry.
Of course, the stage of development shown in his account was already far
removed from that of the archaic Egyptian state. Nevertheless, there were
some basic parameters that we can describe. The most important—and most
enlightening—fact is that the pharaoh did not fight in person. None of the
scenes from Old Kingdom pyramid complexes sheds light on the personal
leadership qualities of the monarch. Indeed, the literature never portrays
the king as a generalissimo. Instead, Egyptian armies appear to have been
organized independently of him. For this reason many scholars still deny the
existence of a state military at this early date.
One difficulty that we face is a simple one and dependent upon the extended
use of an official term: the “commander of a host.” From earliest times, long-
distance donkey caravans had marched westward through the oasis caravan
routes of the western Libyan Plateau. By the Third and Fourth Dynasties, the
man running the quarrying expeditions and other long-distance expeditions
was a natural leader and organizer. He knew his territory because, in pre-horse
times, he traversed it slowly on foot. He learned, for example, where to find
water and how to provide other necessities for his company. Were he to be put
in charge of a host of infantry, such a man could fulfill the duties of a general
even if his troops were not finely ranked at this point in military development.
Thus one can argue that prior foreign travel provided the wherewithal of the
Old Kingdom’s military structure. Likewise, I feel, a nascent corporation of
military men was already part of the country’s bureaucracy, although to what
extent remains sub judice.
Weni’s biography emphasizes the land’s division into Upper and Lower
Egypt. Moreover, he specifically mentions that all sorts of Nubians as well as
Libyans were part of his army. Weni himself was a court official, to be sure,
but also a leader of a quarrying expedition. Hence, he could conduct a large
number of men into inhospitable regions. In his narrative we also read of other
high-ranking infantry leaders. For example, there were “chief district officials”
in charge of their men. From this short text it is evident that the army was not
continuously deployed, neither was it convened by the king. The presence of
95
Military Interactions } 95
foreigners among the troops indicates, to be sure, that mercenaries were part
and parcel of Weni’s military machine.
No expansion was undertaken as a result of his campaign into southern
Palestine; there was no extension of the boundaries of Egypt. After ravaging
the countryside and overpowering the alien strongholds, with the added incen-
tive of capturing enemy troops, the Egyptian army did not remain abroad in
order to establish a region under permanent Egyptian control.
The Old Kingdom mortuary complexes were decorated in the topoi of mili-
tary success. Libyan warfare was noteworthy in the key visual depictions in
the pyramid temples. The well-known “Libyan family” scene continued to be
repeated elsewhere after its introduction in Sahure’s mortuary temple, embel-
lished in four registers including donkeys, bulls, goats, sheep, and the like.
Evidently, the campaigns westward were aimed at territorial depredation and
the capture of booty in the form of animals. Indeed, that relief is reminiscent
in attitude of the account of Weni with regard to the presumed success of the
Egyptian army.
Yet nowhere in these scenes is there any evidence of a military organization.
Even on the causeway blocks from the Old Kingdom mortuary complexes it is
impossible to determine any specific details except for the clear-cut evidence of
archers standing apart from close-fighting infantry men.
The Military in the First Intermediate Period
The Old Kingdom system of warfare presented in the summary above con-
tinued virtually unchanged through the later period of social disintegration
and unrest, commonly called the First Intermediate Period, but with one key
difference. Evidence comes from the local quasi-independent nomarchs, the
“dynasty” of Assiut in Middle Egypt, and from early autobiographic texts pre-
dating the Theban hegemony in the Head of the South. The leaders of these
political zones fought at the head of their own armies, or at least they were
running the Egyptian military in a far more direct fashion than previously. In
addition, the Eleventh Dynasty Theban rulers, Intef II, but notably the later
Nebhepetre Mentuhotep (II), most certainly took charge of their soldiers. The
account of Tefibi in Assiut tomb no. 3, for example, boasts of his leadership
abilities. Note especially his use of the possessive in “my soldiers,” a phrase
that no Old Kingdom ruler would ever have uttered. Indeed, this narrative,
replete with warfare, reflects regional military and political self-determination.
Likewise in Thebes, the kings of the Eleventh Dynasty personally led their
troops and, as did Tefibi, considered their army as much a personal possession
as their kingdom.
The very lengthy account of Nebhepetre found at Ballas provides excellent
material. The text includes direct speeches of the pharaoh and his personal
96
assessment on his warfare in Lower Nubia and in southern Libya. Finally,

Ankhtifi, who lived in the early First Intermediate Period, equally saw himself
as the “big man” and “chief ” of Mo‘alla and as someone who fought for his
nome and adjacent territories as a supreme general of generals.
Although The Teaching to Merikare has been redated to the Eighteenth
Dynasty, it reflects the shift in military values that are noticeable in its pur-
ported milieu, the northern Heracleopolitan domain of the Ninth and Tenth
Dynasties. The protagonist, Merikare’s father King Khety, boasts of his per-
sonal role in raising his own troops and leading them upstream. He was an
expansionist. Old Kingdom monarchs, by contrast, felt an all-encompassing
separation from their people. They had no duty to defend the state and no
desire to enlarge it. The only difficulty in using this literary source is that it
was written down in the New Kingdom, when the pharaoh was accustomed to
being a generalissimo.
Manfred Bietak has studied the three-dimensional models, made during the
Eleventh Dynasty and early Twelfth Dynasty, that portray Egyptian soldiers in
conjunction with Nubian mercenaries. The armies appear as well coordinated
as previously, the Egyptians more so than the Nubians. The troops are typical
of the bygone age of the Old Kingdom; that is to say, they are archers as well
as lightly protected foot soldiers.
The Military in the Middle Kingdom
The military system of the Middle Kingdom appears to have been very similar
to that of the smaller regional units of the First Intermediate Period. Although
our knowledge of the social hierarchy within the war machine is incomplete,
some points of comparison can be made. First and foremost, the elite troops
were those of the marine organization. Two major historical accounts, one of
the pharaoh Amenemhat II and the other of the nomarch Khnumhotep III,
strikingly reveal the importance of the royal flotilla and the navy in the Twelfth
Dynasty. While the Old Kingdom had an overseas policy, during the Middle
Kingdom the king led his troops or sent his eldest son upstream against Nubia.
From various Twelfth Dynasty tombs at Beni Hassan in the 16th Upper
Egyptian nome, we learn of the royal armada and its use by expansionist rul-
ers. By and large, the pharaohs of the Twelfth Dynasty continued their belli-
cose activities in the same way as Nebhepetre Mentuhotep had operated during
the Eleventh Dynasty. The later pharaohs secured Lower Nubia, called Wawat.
Amenemhat I and Senwosret I pacified this region between the first and second
cataracts. They constructed a barrier composed of fortifications and boundary
posts, defended by regular police and military patrols, at the second cataract.
From this staging point the Egyptian kings could advance, sometimes in per-
son, into the heartland of Kush and beyond.
97
The development of this imperialistic policy can be viewed through a series

of soldiers’ graffiti, biographical inscriptions, and royal stelae. Hence, it is fairly
easy to analyze the focus of Egyptian military strength over a relatively long
period of time. Inside the second cataract forts, living quarters were set up for
the semi-permanent members of the Egyptian army, and a substantial number
of food storage silos were built. The garrisons were suited for both administra-
tion and offensive warfare. They were excellently situated to observe the local
Nubians and to control their passage to and from Egypt. Moreover, the food
reservoirs were sufficient for large campaigns into the far south.
The concept of the king as leader of his army seems to have been less overt
in the Middle Kingdom than it would become during the New Kingdom, yet
significant in a way that it had never been during the Old Kingdom. From the
Twelfth Dynasty onward, many rulers emphasized their abilities in war prep-
aration and military leadership, qualities that went considerably beyond the
practice of their Old Kingdom predecessors. The Tale of Sinuhe begins with
the successful return of an army led by the king’s son after a Libyan campaign.
If the nomarch Amenemhat of Beni Hassan took autobiographical credit
for two major expeditions into Nubia, he was accompanied on one occasion
by the king and on the other by the king’s son. Amenemhat added that he was
the general-in-chief of his own troops from the Oryx nome, but it was the king
who overthrew the vile enemies of Kush. During the second flotilla campaign
upstream against Kush, the nomarch was interested in the acquisition of gold.
This time he accompanied the royal son and the future pharaoh Amenemhat
II. It should not surprise us that here, and elsewhere, the leader was engaged in
quarrying.
Our real difficulty arises in the later phase of the Middle Kingdom, espe-
cially during the Thirteenth Dynasty, because the data are too slim. However,
extant sources indicate that despite their weakened control of the Egyptian
polity, the pharaohs of this period were as decidedly nationalistic in outlook
as their predecessors had been during the epoch of the Theban domination
of the south after the fall of the Old Kingdom. While the Thirteenth Dynasty
was subject to serious military threats from the Nubians in the south and the
Asiatic Hyksos in the north, it revived the intimate capital-oriented chauvinis-
tic behavior that was characteristic of the mid-Eleventh Dynasty. There was an
increase in nationalistic fervor in which the city of Thebes, the Twelfth Dynasty
seat of government, was reaffirmed as the premier city, with its godhead Amun
now conceived to be the central deity of the Egyptian state.
The Military in the Second Intermediate Period
During the Second Intermediate Period, Thebes, although beset from two sides,
nevertheless managed to acquire and use the new military technologies that had
98
entered Africa from the northeast. The two key improvements were the horse
and chariot. It is difficult to put a timeframe to their wholesale use. There are
no horse skeletons or firmly dated archaeological evidence of the first chariots.
However, there was a perceptible chariotry elite within the Egyptian army by
the close of the Second Intermediate Period. Horse breeding was practiced dur-
ing Hyksos rule, and it was under their influence that the Egyptians adopted
the new composite bow and quiver sometime around the mid-Twelfth to late
Thirteenth Dynasties. The Hyksos controlled all of the north of Egypt: the
entire Delta plus a sizeable portion of Middle Egypt if not beyond. Thebes was
briefly part of their domain. The duration of their domination in the south
remains unknown.
Most certainly, the adoption of the horse did not mean that the native rul-
ers of the Seventeenth Dynasty in Upper Egypt were able to resist the Hyksos
immediately. Kamose’s famous royal account places little emphasis on his
chariotry. However, the Egyptian army system was undergoing rapid altera-
tion. Theban influence quickly expanded both upstream to the second cata-
ract at Buhen and downstream past Memphis. Questions remain as to how
this was accomplished. It is assumed that the effective nationalistic impulse of
the Thebans can partly explain Kamose’s remarkable success in moving into
Hyksos territory in the northeast Delta. Then, too, he was even more of a
generalissimo than any Middle Kingdom warrior pharaoh. Commencing with
his father Seqenenre II, the next line of Theban dynasts engaged in a new man-
ner of warfare. They were constant generals and not merely rulers who fought
with their troops from time to time. They were actual representatives of a war
machine that moved with increasing velocity to the forefront of the state.
These pharaohs desired to represent themselves as chariot warriors par excel-
lence. This image was soon to be utilized in public temple wall reliefs of warfare
and conquest as well as in written accounts. The kings of the late Seventeenth
Dynasty and those of the Eighteenth Dynasty continued to expand their role
as conquerors. Such images and practices were dependent upon the incipient
Seventeenth Dynasty’s commitment to a military strategy dependent upon the
horse and chariot. Unfortunately, the details of campaigning are not described
in the earliest historical accounts, The Story of Apophis and Seqenenre and
Kamose’s two Hyksos war stelae. Within a short time, by the end of the reign
of Ahmose, the Middle Kingdom marine-based system of the Egyptian army
had largely been replaced by a land-oriented one.
The Military in the New Kingdom: Establishing Empire
The incursion of the nascent Eighteenth Dynasty into Asia required a differ-
ent basis for the Egyptian military even if the Nubian campaigning followed
the older practice of sending the army by royal navy. Technological advances
9
enabled the Egyptians to strike hard against the south. The private biography
of Ahmose son of Ebana dwelled specifically upon forays far beyond the sec-
ond cataract by the various kings he served. We can explain the seemingly rapid
success of Egyptian arms by their perfection of a superior system of attack.
By now Egypt had transformed itself to a full Bronze Age culture. Thus the
new “mechanized” division of the pharaoh’s army overwhelmed their southern
foes, who, moreover, did not possess horses. The Egyptian monarchs could not
and did not dispense with their armada, which took their lengthy campaigns
beyond the fourth cataract, to their geographic and logistic limits, far outdis-
tancing the Middle Kingdom war machine. The fervor for domination over
the Nile Valley was evidence of the ideologically nationalistic and technologi-
cally driven unified state that had arisen in the course of the Seventeenth and
Eighteenth Dynasties.
In Asia one had to traverse, and then control, all of Sinai as a first step to
secure control over the southern littoral of Palestine. Under Ahmose the king-
dom of Sharuhen was absorbed. Then came the more arduous task of estab-
lishing frontier garrisons connecting the old eastern Delta capital of Avaris,
via the border post of Sile, to Gaza, the first major city in southern Palestine.
Archaeological data and scholarly textual analyses document the construc-
tion of a military infrastructure. By the reign of Hatshepsut, a major highway
facilitated advances north. The ultimate stage in war tactics and equipment was
in place for Thutmose III to use. Henceforth, the army was an effective pres-
ence. Egypt no longer had to worry about incursions from Sinai or neighboring
zones. The chariotry could lead the army northward into western Asia with
impunity.
The Eighteenth Dynasty army was an overland system. Troops advanced on
foot. Horses, donkeys, and oxen carried supplies. The animals could graze out-
side of the walled cities of Palestine. The host need not always enter. Sometimes
all that was necessary was to assemble at the gates of a city-state with a large
enough force of troops. The locals could then choose either to resist or to sup-
port the advancing Egyptian army. If resistance were offered, there would be a
battle close to the citadel, where there was no chance of outside support coming
to the aid of the defenders. Thus the Egyptians were able to propel themselves
northward in a methodical fashion, without encountering major opposition
from either a local kingdom or a regional superpower until Thutmose III was
sole pharaoh in his 23rd regnal year.
We can now summarize the basic structure of the pharaohs’ armies for
most of the Eighteenth Dynasty. The chariot division was the elite one. These
vehicles were lightweight, and the two horses who drew them were small by
today’s standards. Chariot wheels had only four spokes until later on in the
dynasty. As time went on, chariots became heavier and horses were bred for
their task. Foot soldiers and archers fought at close quarters. The king was
in the first division when on campaign, but he would have been protected by
10
an elite group called “followers.” No warrior pharaoh ever stood alone at the
very front of his army.
The ideal weapon was considered to be the sickle-shaped sword, but this
military implement was not used in battle. The chariot warrior—and of course
the king—stood in the cab of his vehicle and fired arrows. Hence, the image of
a warrior king fighting alone in a chariot quickly became the visual and literary
trope of the New Kingdom. The archaic scene of smiting with a mace was rel-
egated to monumental representations of the victorious pharaoh. Instead, the
concept of “extending the boundaries of Egypt” became the standard, embod-
ied in theory although not in practice, by the mighty self-engrossed warrior
leader at the head of his army.
The king departed for war and led his army. Surrounding the marching foot
soldiers were his chariots. Light-armed archers may be seen in various depic-
tions providing distant support for the basic infantrymen. The chariots con-
tained two men, one of whom was the driver (and spear thrower) while the
other acted as the archer. By the close of the Eighteenth Dynasty, pharaohs’
armies had grown in size as well as in complexity. Shield bearers were intro-
duced as assistants to the charioteers.
The type of military encounter seems to have become regularized as well.
For example, in the mid-Eighteenth Dynasty, Thutmose III campaigned almost
annually from his 29th regnal year. The basic tactical situation remained
the same:
(a) advance on foot and proceed from city to city;

(b) accept the surrender of a recalcitrant city or invest it;
(c) fight outside of the same locality, usually on the open plain;
(d) win.
This type of warfare can be likened to a ratchet, the teeth of which move regu-
larly but in an abrupt manner. In order for the advance to proceed without
resistance, the Asiatic city must automatically acquiesce to Egyptian control,
either before or soon after the appearance of the pharaoh.
By the beginning of the Eighteenth Dynasty, Gaza had been developed and
there were a few Egyptian garrisons in western Asia. Megiddo was the nexus
in central Palestine connecting the inland road from Gaza on the southwest to
Kumidi in Syria in the central north. Beth Shan, close to the eastern edge of
central Palestine, was not used until later. From the Amarna Letters we can see
just how precarious Egyptian involvement could be when there was no major
force in the field. The development of the Eighteenth Dynasty empire in the
north was the result of continual warfare.
Thutmose III effectively put an end to the Palestinian resistance, which
had been supported by Kadesh on the Orontes River in Syria. Having secured
control over Megiddo, Egypt at the mid-Eighteenth Dynasty faced the inland
10
kingdom of Mittani in Syria. Thutmose III and his son fought there without
being able to conquer any major portion of that area. Because of difficult logis-
tics, both adversaries thereafter avoided war. Mittani was very distant from
Egypt. The limits of control were stronger than the desires of the pharaoh.
The Egyptian sphere of influence was crossed by major highways such as the
Via Maris on the coast of the eastern Mediterranean or the inland route of the
King’s Highway. A third major route led from Megiddo eastward across to the
Transjordan. North of Megiddo the inland highway reached into the Syrian
province of Amurru with its capital of Kadesh forming yet another nexus in
Syria. In addition, the harbors of the Lebanon were secured and became stag-
ing points for military advances eastward from the sea. Thereby, the Levant
was controlled.
At the same time in Nubia the Egyptians expanded existing garrison-
fortresses and set up new temple-towns to control the zone south of the first
cataract. Owing to easy accessibility by water—the Nile—the Egyptian mili-
tary requirements in Nubia were far different from those in the north.
The Military in the New Kingdom: Logistics, Tactics, Ethos
Likewise the Egyptians could easily transport the army and its supplies on ships
to Lebanese seaport cities. The strategy was then to deploy men and materiel by
two routes to reach the Euphrates River: either directly eastward or else north-
east across central Syria, passing through Kadesh. The inherent division of
troop allocation and war materiel can best be seen in Thutmose III’s accounts
and in the famous campaign of Ramesses II against Kadesh in his 5th regnal
year. No other Egyptian monarchs have provided us with so much detail.
There were many stops where the king would halt his advance, provide fod-
der for his horses and oxen, and replenish victuals and water for his soldiers. The
battle reliefs of the Kadesh campaign show quite a number of non-combatants
among Ramesses’s army at rest. There are rows of horses released from their
chariots being tended and watered by grooms and boys. Cooks worked in the
open. An Egyptian army in Asia brought along its own equipment in order to
encamp outside of a major city.
The method of fighting is rarely discussed in the scholarly literature. Regarding
actual combat, our source material—the inscriptions and the visual tableaux—
are overwhelming pharaoh-centric. Yet we may note the protective stance of the
advance guard, called “followers,” at the front of the first division housing the
king. Depicted as well are the lightly armored foot soldiers who, with daggers
and shields, were ideally suited for quick movement and close one-on-one com-
bat. So far as we know, the chariots were not used to mop up the enemy troops.
The bowmen in the cabs of those war vehicles performed a role similar to that of
the archer elite on foot during earlier times. No battering rams are known from
102
this epoch. Instead, we have illustrations of attacks upon wooden citadel gates
by infantrymen wielding axes. There are mercenaries, or at least non-Egyptians,
present in those scenes of warfare. Libyans and Nubians can be identified. In
some cases, typically in the Nineteenth Dynasty, the elite mercenaries were the
Sherden, a group from among the “Peoples of the Sea.” Hence, to claim that the
Egyptian army was purely composed of natives is inaccurate, at least during the
Ramesside Period (Nineteenth to Twentieth Dynasties).
We are familiar with the nomenclature of the New Kingdom chariot corps.
The first title, in Egyptian snnj or charioteer, referred to all occupants of the
vehicle. The word was common in the early Eighteenth Dynasty but disap-
peared from practical use by the end of the reign of Amenhotep III. Thereafter
the language became more specific. From the Nineteenth Dynasty through the
second half of the Twentieth Dynasty, ḳrꜤw referred to the shield bearers, who
were rather like cadets. Another term also applicable to soldiers in chariots was
kḏn, first attested during the reign of Thutmose III. It has been determined
that this person was not a fighter but merely a chariot driver. Nevertheless,
the kḏn of “his majesty,” the king’s driver, was a very important man. This
word was borrowed from western Asia, as was the earlier term snnj, which was
of Hurrian, though ultimately Semitic, origin. Such usage may betoken the
importance of the Hurrians during the period of Egyptian weakness during the
Second Intermediate Period.
Until the shield-bearer class was created, there were only two men per char-
iot to perform three tasks in battle: drive the horses and vehicle, shoot arrows
or throw a javelin-lance, and protect themselves with a shield against the enemy.
While the army was marching, the driver fulfilled only that role whereas the sec-
ond man assumed the duty of shield bearer, thereby reverting to the traditional
role of a foot soldier. These ḳrꜤw served in the lowest sector of the chariotry.
All of the men were commanded by superiors (ḥry snnjw) who had the rank of
a standard bearer. The chariot division was subdivided into groups, each of
which had specific insignia for identification.
The Sherden came to a significant force within the Egyptian army by the
middle of the Nineteenth Dynasty. They acted as guards in the Egyptian mon-
arch’s camp. In Egyptian reliefs they are shown as a unit attacking fortresses,
especially by scaling the walls or cutting through or down the city gates. They
were lightly armed with rather long daggers and small round shields appropriate
for close hand-to-hand combat. The contemporary larger, almost trapezoidal
Egyptian shield was considerably bulkier and thus better suited for protection.
It derived from the even larger leather or hide shields of the Old and Middle
Kingdoms. Shields most often protected infantrymen from enemy archers, but
also from axes and spears at close range.
In the contemporary accounts of the important battles of the Eighteenth
and Nineteenth Dynasties, chariots play a major role when the king is present.
This we must take with a few grains of salt. Such narratives are of a literary
103
nature and, not unsurprisingly, often use archaizing terms for the subdivisions
within the army. The major campaigns, nonetheless, seem to follow a scenario
relatively close to that of the pictorial accounts. Not all of the individual ele-
ments, or visual snapshots, need be included every time:
(a) King in chariot departing to war and on the road.
(b) King in chariot alone before outside a city-fortress and shooting his
arrows at the besieged enemy (fig. 6.1).
(c) King in chariot presented as a solitary hero, but in text not
infrequently as a wise commander-in-chief.
(d) King smites enemy or receives prisoners; the official count of the
slain and the captives.
(e) King in chariot ready to go home; his foot is in the cab and the
horses are about to depart from the field.
(f) King in chariot travels home. (This is very rare.)
Often based upon the official war diaries, the lengthy literary records and the
monuments always tell the same story. The pharaoh reaches a defended for-
tress. Either he takes it after a show of strength on the battlefield or else the city
acquiesces, recognizing the power of the mighty warrior. Then follow a list of
the booty and an accounting of the slain or captured.
Thutmose III’s version of his assault on Megiddo was published at Karnak.
The battle actually took place outside of the city. Both sides marshaled their
troops—and especially the chariots—on open ground in sight of each other.
The official narrative has the familiarity of a reworked scenario. The Egyptian
account is, unfortunately, the only one we possess. The orientation has to be
FIGURE 6.1 Pharaoh Sety I against Yenoam (east Canaan). Northern exterior wall of the hypostyle hall
at Karnak; east side, second register.
104
taken into consideration just as, many years later, we have to rely almost totally
upon Ramesses II for what happened at Kadesh.
The kingly records are thus reflective of the military ethos of the New
Kingdom. Because they sought to showcase the elite chariotry along with them-
selves, their combined efforts are highlighted sufficiently for a reconstruction
of battle strategy and tactics. For example, Thutmose III’s son Amenhotep II
claims to have carried out lone activities that, in truth, he would never have
been able to accomplish in the unlikely event that he would have been allowed
to attempt them. But in his case, as with Thutmose III and Ramesses II, on
the record the generalissimo pharaoh fought in the guise of a hero and with
the accouterments of war. (The one reported time when Ramesses II rushed
boldly to the fight without any armor can be factual only if he was caught off
guard.) Never did a pharaoh storm a city or engage in potentially fatal direct
combat. Only in pictorial propaganda did the Egyptian monarch encounter an
enemy chief almost (pharaoh is drawn larger) face-to-face, where it was a fore-
gone conclusion that the foe would soon be dispatched by means of the king’s
javelin-spear or sickle-shaped sword. In one very interesting such record, that
of Sety I attacking Hittite troops outside of the city of Kadesh, we see the pha-
raoh moving against the enemy general or leader. The purpose of that image
was not to record an event for posterity but to create visually publicity for Sety
in the standard role of the “king in battle,” a constant pictorial theme in New
Kingdom Egyptian history.
Chariot Tactics at Kadesh and the Presence of the King
Under Ramesses II, the son of Sety I, the famous account of the Kadesh
“Poem” further demonstrates the chariot obsession. In this case the objective
was to surprise the Hittite chariot corps across the Orontes River. Almost under
siege, Ramesses with his own chariot support sped out of camp to engage the
Hittite adversaries, not once but six times. Naturally, all of this may be read
with some degree of skepticism, and not only because of the emphasis upon
the personal valor of the Egyptian king. We may also wonder how effective one
group of chariots was against the attack of another. (Note that the combat on
the first day involved only the Hittite chariotry attacking the Egyptians.) In the
Kadesh Poem the infantry is mentioned only once, at the very beginning of
the battle when the enemies sliced through the marching second division of the
Egyptian army. Elsewhere, the written narrative persistently fixates upon the
king’s ideal role as the highest elite warrior performing his miraculous counter-
attack via chariot.
Yet chariots were not tanks. They were not used to scythe through enemy
foot soldiers. Moreover, they were not very fast and they were dependent upon
flat terrain. Reliefs show javelins piercing the bodies of enemy horses, and
105
Egyptian teams must have been vulnerable as well. Certainly, the mobile plat-
forms were not well suited to aiming, whether against enemy horses or soldiers.
Encircling movements, which many scholars still wish to believe was the pre-
ferred modus, were not reported by Ramesses at Kadesh, save possibly by the
Hittite enemy in their first chariot-based attack. Thutmose III did not employ
this tactic at Megiddo. Likewise, the small proportion of historical data of the
New Kingdom pharaohs maintains silence concerning the actual deployment
of the chariots.
Even more perturbing, from the point of view of historical inquiry, is the
written account of second day of battle between Ramesses II and the Hittites
outside of Kadesh. The exact location remains speculative. We do not know
how the confrontation came to pass. Was it another formal show of force in
which the great monarchs of the ancient Near East engaged, à la Huizinga’s
homo ludens? It has been argued in the scholarly literature that this method
of military combat was advocated by the great leaders of the empires, be they
Hittites, Egyptians, or Mittanians. This interpretation applies here, if only
because both powers on that fateful second day would have been aware of the
terrain, the approximate strength of each army, and the odds of success. I sus-
pect that there was a formalized, chariot-based encounter supported by much
infantry.
The later years of Ramesses II witnessed repeated campaigns. In the north
he reached into Syria and in his apparent attempt to take over and secure
for eternity the southern border region of Amurru (fig. 6.2). The pictorial
FIGURE 6.2 Pharaoh Ramesses II in Syria fighting the fortress-citadel of Dapur. Ramesseum.

106
evidence for these military ventures is ample, even if the scenes are standard
for the most part—king in chariot, on foot, on the attack—and specificity is
infrequent.
The same may be said with respect to Merenptah’s Canaanite war, which he
may not have continuously led in person. Almost all of the Karnak reliefs of
the campaign use only the commonplace visual topoi. In addition, the physi-
cally large presence of one of the king’s sons lends support to the hypothesis
that in at least some of the military clashes Merenptah was absent. Here then is
a second crucial point, one that may be seen as a conundrum. Did every scene
of king versus enemy actually indicate that the pharaoh was present? Owing to
political and social ideology, the superhuman image of the pharaoh exists in
every Egyptian account. But persistence does not prove that he was, in truth,
“there.” After all, the Egyptian monarch is known to have employed battle-
hardened generals, especially his sons, in war.
If this argument sounds too daring, let me draw attention to one of the early
Twentieth Dynasty Medinet Habu reliefs of Ramesses III. In regnal year 8,
he fought against the Sea Peoples, an amalgam of various northern invaders
such as the Peleshet (who give us the name of Palestine). By land and by sea
they came, in two separate waves, or so the records inform us. Both were defi-
nitely considered to be planned and coordinated if, of course, the Egyptian
point of view is followed. The pictorial accounts purposely separate the two
attacks. The presumed second, by sea, appears to have been a naval battle at
the extreme north of the Delta, probably at one of the Nile mouths on the
eastern Mediterranean coast. The depiction is unique owing to its remarkable
interpretation of a naval encounter between the Egyptian flotilla and the enemy
armada. For our purposes it is necessary to focus upon the king once more.
Ramesses III is shown standing outside of his chariot. As Egyptian monarchs
do, he shoots his arrows at the enemy. This topos is figurative. It merely repre-
sents the eternal image of the Egyptian ruler defeating a foe. Created by means
of this picture is the expectation that Ramesses was physically present. This,
after all, is what the designers and the ruler wanted. Was this true? Or did the
actual encounter involve only the Egyptian fleet—and not the chariots of the
army—against enemy ships? Indeed, how did the two naval forces meet? I have
a strong feeling that Ramesses III was never present, and the scene certainly
indicates that he was not in charge of any sea vessel. Thus there remains an
ever-present sense of skepticism with regard to the personal military involve-
ment of the pharaoh.
The Military at the End of the Bronze Age
The Egyptian army was faced by new threats at this time. Merenptah had to
utilize his heavily armed soldiers in order to confront a major threat from
107
the west, a Libyan invasion. The lengthy written record of this war estab-
lishes that the Libyans did not have chariots; yet the Egyptian victory was
dependent not only upon their possession of battle vehicles but also upon
their superior numbers. Furthermore, the account is clear that the Libyans
were attempting to settle in the western Delta. They sought domination over
Egypt’s peripheral zone of control in the northwest. Noteworthy is the evi-
dence that the Libyans acquired better weaponry from their supporters, the
Sea Peoples.
To link this war with the ever-increasing threat of outside naval activity in
the Mediterranean is not speculative. The Sea Peoples acted as pirates as well as
traders, and they were able to move effectively around the littorals of the east-
ern Mediterranean. Despite the fearful tone of the Egyptian texts and reliefs,
the newcomers’ population was not large in comparison to that of the settled
countries. They were most successful on the coasts, especially against Palestine
and the Delta. Later they struck again the important city-state of Ugarit, a
major maritime kingdom farther north. They reached Cyprus. The strength of
the Sea Peoples was in the number of their ships.
The Sherden were a Sea People who, after an initial encounter with
Ramesses II in his 2nd regnal year, became mercenaries for the Egyptians.
Scholars have related the victory at Kadesh three years later to the assistance
of the Sherden. Afterwards they formed an important part of the Egyptian
army and settled on small plots of land in the north. At least some of them
were deployed to strongholds, thereby becoming a separate distinguishable
military entity in the Ramesside age (second half of the Nineteenth Dynasty—
Twentieth Dynasty). One can surmise that for close fighting and efficacy of
movement, these foot soldiers made a new and important contribution to the
Egyptian army. The native infantry with their bulkier shields may have become
the less favored component, although they comprised the vast majority of men.
The Egyptian chariot sector and its support system still remained on a higher
level than any of the infantry because, regardless of the immense threat from
the west and from the eastern Mediterranean, the Egyptian army did not sig-
nificantly alter its technical and technological methods. Despite three subse-
quent invasion attempts by the Libyans and the Sea Peoples during the reign
of Ramesses III, no particular changes were made—at least officially—in the
system of the Egyptian army.
Egypt, threatened, was successfully maintained under Merenptah and
Ramesses III. The great trial of strength that took place in the time of
Ramesses III often renders his war reliefs more striking than those of
Merenptah and, excluding the visual narration of the battle of Kadesh, even
of Ramesses II.
Nevertheless, those representations—the famous Medinet Habu scenes of
Ramesses III—reveal many new facets of the Egyptian military. The depictions
of the naval battle with the Sea Peoples in combination with the scenes of their
108
land attack in Palestine provide much that is useful for our understanding of
late Ramesside war society. Other foreigners besides the Sherden had evidently
entered the ranks of the Egyptian army. For the first time we have pictorial
evidence of the Egyptian fortresses in the northwest, but the pharaoh is no
longer depicted attacking a citadel. The new type of enemy was on the move,
not settled: Libyans were coming east and Sea People were coming south over
land and sea.
The three major wars that Ramesses III faced within the first eleven years
of his reign have rarely been discussed from the aspect of real danger. It is
uncertain how severe was the land-based Sea Peoples “invasion” of regnal
year 8. Then, too, it is questionable whether the seaborne assault on the Nile
Delta was as thoroughly coordinated as the Egyptians believed. The incom-
ing troop ships were intent upon attack but not conquest. They offered no
logistic support for the far slower land advance of the Sea Peoples’ coali-
tion, which included families with their supplies in carts and heavy wagons.
On the other hand, it still seems reasonable to view the ominously steady
encroachment down the coast of Syria-Palestine, if that is the historical
reconstruction, as a major threat to Egyptian control over Palestine, though
not over the Delta. As it turned out, the Sea Peoples ended up taking the
port cities of the southern Levant. The Egyptians pulled out of their terri-
tories in western Asia within thirty years or so after their defeat in Ramesses
III’s 8th regnal year.
The Libyan threat was but a continuation of population pressures impinging
upon the northwest of the Egyptian nation ever since the time of Sety I. Part
of the army was stationed in a series of fortresses close to the coast of the
Mediterranean, at the westernmost agricultural tract of the Delta. Merenptah
was the last fully successful pharaoh to keep the Libyans at bay. The threat
reemerged, or so says one written source, owing to the Egyptian attempt to
tamper with the kingship of the Libyans, now called Libu or Meshwesh. (The
two are often hard to distinguish.) Ramesses III won his two conflicts with
them, but we do not know precisely how his army did so. But the repercussions
were by no means positive. The Libyans, for example, continued to settle in
the northwestern Delta, and the Peleshet, for example, settled on the coast of
Palestine and so became, in effect, the “police” of that region. Unfortunately,
such details are never revealed in the texts and scenes at Medinet Habu. One
advantage that he possessed was his chariots, but it is probable that the sheer
numbers of Egyptian defenders stopped the Libyans.
Nevertheless, by the beginning of the Twenty-second Dynasty, many Libyans
families were living in clans in the western Delta. Just like the Sherden, they
retained more than a smattering of their military lifestyle, which was primitive
in comparison to Iron Age societies. It can be surmised that they joined the
Egyptian military and the Egyptian populace.
109
Synthesis
In broad terms these remarks have followed the history of Egypt. I have empha-
sized the army in its corporate nature. Certainly, by the middle of the Eighteenth
Dynasty it had become a major component of the national identity. With the
scribal administration and the priestly clergy, the war machine of the empire
achieved the place that it surely desired. In fact, its importance had impacts on
the other important corporate entities. This had not been the situation earlier. In
the Old Kingdom the army played an ancillary role in the ethos of state, king-
ship, religion, and economy of that era. The internecine warfare of the First
Intermediate Period changed that aspect forever. The military system of this
epoch continued through the Twelfth Dynasty. Once Egypt was unified in the
middle of the Eleventh Dynasty, the Theban state was able to commence a series
of expansionistic policies—and not merely raids—upstream into Nubia. The
major campaign of that era was southern and marine-based in contrast to the
expansionism of the early New Kingdom in Palestine and later Syria.
That the army and the navy worked together can be seen from the patchy
records of the Old and Middle Kingdoms. By the Eighteenth Dynasty the
Egyptian fleet was used to transport war materiel and some troops for the push
into central and eastern Syria. Bietak has argued that the Old Kingdom marine
was often composed of Asiatics, especially from the ports of the Levant. This
is difficult to accept owing to the paucity of early data and the liabilities of
making assumptions. The prosopography of data concerning Egypt’s seamen
is meager in comparison to that for the Egyptian army. This difference may,
perhaps, be used to argue for the presence of a large number of non-Egyptians
on military vessels during the New Kingdom, but that conclusion must remain
speculative.
It is difficult to identify a transition point between the Middle Kingdom
naval policy and the subsequent reliance upon foot soldiers and charioteers.
The methods and tactics of New Kingdom warfare evolved to suit the geo-
graphic zone of western Asia. Essentially, the elite charioteer division fol-
lowed the same course of development and status as did their counterparts
in the Hurrian kingdom of Mittani in northern Syria and the kingdom of the
Hittites. However, the Egyptian military was not segmented into various client-
based nations as the Hittite forces were. Notwithstanding the presence of for-
eign mercenaries, the majority of the army remained Egyptian.
Therefore the tricky question of total size challenges historians, who have
not been able to provide any definite answer. We do not know the total number
or percentage of troops on active service, in the reserves, staffing the garrisons,
or performing administrative duties.
But there is one major and striking vector that courses through the historical
survey presented here—namely the role of pharaoh. Excluding the origin of the
10
unified Egyptian state and the wars that must have preceded it, the early kings
“wear no plumes in their helmets.” Their bellicose representations are really
just standard ones, topoi that could be added at will to a relief or not. Pharaoh
did not lead his troops. The armed forces were not geared for continual warfare.
It was the local war leaders of the First Intermediate Period who provided the
model for Twelfth Dynasty monarchs to command their armies in person when
a major conflict was desired.
The accepted scholarly argument is that the Theban State of the Seventeenth
Dynasty formed a strong nucleus of nationalistic fervor owing to its virulent
opposition to the domination of the Hyksos. Furthermore, it is assumed that
the rise of the state god Amun is directly linked with the martial and spiri-
tual ethos of that domain. Yet the army was enlarged during the Eighteenth
Dynasty because of a conscious desire to move northward by land and because
the latest weapon, the new chariot and horse combination, had to be accommo-
dated. This process took time. Only when effective logistic control was achieved
over Sinai could a thrust be made into Palestine. Furthermore, evidence of
sentiment for a strong centralized state pre-dates the Eighteenth Dynasty. We
can signal the Theban kingdom of the Eleventh Dynasty as well as the defense
of Thebes at the close of the Thirteenth Dynasty. As much as an army needs
superior military technology, it also requires an effective centralized leadership
willing to engage in a long-range plan. Hence, it is not surprising that the impe-
rial pharaohs of the New Kingdom continued the Middle Kingdom practice of
personal involvement on the battlefield.
The “Armies of Re” (to repeat the title of this chapter) were not altogether
financed by the country. Men served in the military when they were not oth-
erwise engaged elsewhere in agriculture or administration. Soldiers returned
to their own plots of land after a campaign. Because the New Kingdom army
was not a standing one, it is not possible to make a full, accurate calculation of
its total economic impact. True, horses especially, but also chariots and other
manufactured war materiel (e.g., shields) became a part of the New Kingdom’s
centralized economy. Witness, for example, the armament technology at
Piramesse (located at the old site of Avaris) in the northwest Delta during the
Nineteenth and Twentieth Dynasties.
Sometimes it is further argued that the state became controlled by the
army, especially after the series of setbacks that Egypt received at the close
of the Eighteenth Dynasty. The religious reformation (or revolution) of
Akhenaton is perceived to have weakened Egyptian control in Asia to such
a degree that one high-ranking military man, the general Horemheb, had to
take power. Such an interpretation runs counter to the extant data of the
New Kingdom. A review of the careers of many princes of the empire indi-
cates that these royals started as warriors. The army of the New Kingdom
was yet another pyramid at the top of which was pharaoh, but below were
his young adult male children. The Egyptian leader remained in charge of
1
the entire military corporation just as he was nominally the highest prelate
of the various cults of Egypt, particularly that of Thebes. As well, pharaoh
was at the apex of the civil administration. However, within the Egyptian
military corporation there was no individual second-in-command, equiva-
lent to the vizier for civil administration. Pharaoh made military strategy.
When he was not present to lead his army, various generals, perhaps a son,
did so. In the religious sphere there was a degree of difference in that high
priests were always fulfilling his role in any cultic setting when he was absent,
neither was there one great high priest who controlled all the temples of
Egypt. Thus significant change occurred during the New Kingdom whereby
the monarch’s full time role became that of permanent army commander-in-
chief. Perhaps instead of the title “Armies of Re” we should use the designa-
tion, at least for the New Kingdom, “Armies of Pharaoh.”
12
13
SECTION III }
Objects
14
15
7 }
The Long Arm of Merchantry

TRADE INTERACTIONS
Samuel Mark
Long before the first king sat on the throne of a unified Egypt, a well-developed
trade network moved goods not only throughout Egypt but also into Egypt
from foreign lands. Trade goods from the south came from and through Lower
Nubia, while goods from Palestine and as far away as Afghanistan and southern
Mesopotamia were brought across the northern Sinai by caravans; some pos-
sibly came by sea to ports in the Nile Delta. The desire by chieftains in Upper
Egypt, who differentiated their status and rank by ornate clothing, jewelry, and
other symbols, to control this northern trade may have led to the unification
of Egypt. Domination of these and other resources and judicious redistribu-
tion of wealth to loyal followers allowed them to maintain and advance their
positions: the most powerful were those who controlled and redistributed the
most exotic materials. Through its growth and prosperity Egyptian society
became more stratified, eventually evolving into a state-level kingship. Once
established, this social order required an increasing amount of exotic materials
for an increasing number of elite individuals and institutions, such as temples
and funerary monuments, especially for the kings through whom all of this
wealth flowed.
Ancient Egypt’s own considerable wealth in natural resources provided the
foundation for its international trade, which was, like its domestic economy,
based on barter, a system of direct exchange of goods and services that per-
sisted until the end of the New Kingdom (fig. 7.1). The annual flooding of the
Nile allowed farmers to produce abundant agricultural products, supporting
quarrying and mining expeditions that brought stones (for construction and
ornamentation) and metals, such as gold and copper, from the Eastern Desert
and elsewhere. The extant evidence suggests that most foreign imports contin-
ued to be exotica for the Egyptian elite and that for much of dynastic history
115
16
116 { Samuel Mark
FIGURE 7.1 Map of Egypt and Sinai, showing sites mentioned in the text.
international trade was carried out by the state. This is not to say private mer-
chants did not participate, only that little or no evidence exists for them. Some
trading ventures, such as those on the Red Sea, required resources beyond the
means of private individuals, who could, however, operate small ships on the
Mediterranean or lead donkey caravans to Asia, to Nubia, or even throughout
Egypt. The Middle Kingdom Tale of the Eloquent Peasant recounts a trip by
Khunanup, a private trader from the Wadi Natrun attempting to take his goods
to Heracleopolis. He loaded natron, salt, reeds, wooden sticks and staffs, ani-
mal skins, stones, and agricultural products on his donkeys, and then traveled
south on a system of narrow paths. Such family-level traders were probably
common throughout Egyptian history, becoming more important during peri-
ods of government decentralization. These small traders are largely invisible
17
Trade Interactions } 117
because the evidence for most trade comes from royal documents, funerary
reliefs, and inscriptions, and imports found in tombs, all of which were meant
to celebrate the accomplishments of high-ranking individuals.
Furthermore, most of this trade was in raw materials or in finished goods
made from high-value and easily recyclable materials. Those finished goods
most likely to survive, such as pottery and stone palettes, were typically copied
by those importing them, making it difficult to differentiate between imported
objects and local imitations. Some high-quality items, such as Egyptian stone
vessels, became either heirlooms or trade items, making it difficult to deter-
mine their significance when recovered archaeologically. Thus caution must be
taken when reconstructing trade patterns and trade partners or using these lat-
ter objects for dating.
Early Dynastic Period (First–Second Dynasties)
Under Aha, first king of the First Dynasty, the Nile was already an effi-
cient highway on which boats moved goods between the Mediterranean and
Egypt’s southernmost border at Elephantine, a distance of about 1,200 km.
Donkey caravans transported wine and olive oil via the Ways of Horus, a
road in the northern Sinai that ran between Egypt and its administrative
centers at Tell es-Sakan and En Besor and possibly Tel Ma’ahaz and Lod
in southern Palestine (fig. 7.2). The evidence for such products comes from
tombs, and wine appears to be especially important in the afterlife, but
these commodities were also consumed by the living. Additionally, caravans
brought turquoise, malachite, and copper obtained through trade with local
Sinai populations, and copper might have also come from the Wadi Feinan
(southern Jordan). All three of these commodities were imported in quantity
no later than the Naqada IIc period. They were used for personal ornamenta-
tion (including eye paint) and to adorn other objects, but copper (into which
malachite could also be processed) became increasingly important for utili-
tarian items, especially tools.
Sea trade with Byblos probably began in Predynastic times when this
port city was primarily an entrepôt for exotic products (e.g., lapis lazuli
from Afghanistan, an import that disappears for a time starting in the First
Dynasty) and possibly other raw materials, such as silver and lead, from
southwest Anatolia. It became increasingly important at this time as a source
for quality timber (cedar), as suggested by the discovery of Early Dynastic
Egyptian stone vessels at Byblos. Additional Egyptian exports included some
prestige objects in the form of, among other things, palettes, beads, and pot-
tery, but Egypt likely exported goods that left little trace in the archaeological
record, including gold, linen, faience, high-quality raw stones, furniture, oint-
ments, and grain.
18
118 { Samuel Mark
FIGURE 7.2 Map of the eastern Mediterranean, showing sites mentioned in the text.
Concurrently, in the south, trade moved between Egypt and the so-called
Terminal A-Group culture in Lower Nubia (fig. 7.3). Grave goods consisting of
pottery from Egypt and Syria/Palestine, copper, and cosmetic palettes of ame-
thyst and quartz suggest considerable wealth among the A-Group elite, who
may have flourished as middlemen between Egypt and regions farther to the
south. Differentiating Egyptian finished goods from locally produced copies
can be difficult, especially when considering that Egyptians, too, may have been
living south of the first cataract. Such trade, however, was obviously impor-
tant, as both groups appear to have experienced a growth of wealth. From
Egypt, the Nubians probably acquired not only many of the goods found in
their graves but also as bulk cargoes of beer, wine, oils, cheese, cereals, and
honey. From the south came ivory, incense, vegetable oils, wild-cat skins, ebony
or African blackwood (Dalbergia melanoxylon), and obsidian from Ethiopia or
Yemen. As Egypt evolved into a state-level society greater quantities of these
exotic materials were needed to satisfy the needs of not only a greater number
of elite but also an increasing number of temples and royal funerary establish-
ments, suggested by increasingly larger tombs at Abydos. The importance of
19
FIGURE 7.3 Map of Nubia, showing sites mentioned in the text.
this southern trade to Egypt may be reflected in the ancient name of the town at
modern Aswan, “Swenet,” derived from the Egyptian word for “trade.”
During the First Dynasty, Egyptian military forays into Lower Nubia
(Wawat) drove out the A-Group, and an ebony plaque from the tomb of Aha
celebrates such a victory. It seems unlikely that military incursions were insti-
tuted to control trade, as it is not until the Sixth Dynasty that the volume of
trade in the region seems to have merited such attention. With the disappear-
ance of the A-Group, Lower Nubia remained sparsely populated until later in
the Old Kingdom, when the so-called C-Group moved in. During this time,
Egypt may have developed the logistical capabilities to move ships across the
Eastern Desert for voyages southward along the Red Sea coast to the origin
point of some of its most desired exotics, a land called Punt. (The location of
the region the Egyptians knew as “Punt” is disputed. Typically, scholars place
it somewhere between northern Eritrea and Somalia, and its location probably
changed over time.) Alternatively, seagoing rafts from Punt perhaps brought
goods to Egypt, as may be depicted much later, in a New Kingdom Theban
tomb (TT 143).
Under Aha’s successor, Djer, administrative centers in southern Palestine
disappeared, but donkey caravans that traveled on the Ways of Horus brought
120
120 { Samuel Mark
oil and wine from other trading partners farther to the north, Tel Yarmuth
and Ai, while copper from Wadi Feinan was obtained through Arad. During
the reign of Den, Egyptians themselves were mining copper at Wadi el Humur
in Sinai.
Sea trade expanded: ships transported increasing amounts of goods from
Byblos, while imports also increased from northern Palestine, where Egyptian
officials were stationed at Beth Yerah. This trade coincides with the appearance
in Egypt of “Abydos wares,” a diverse group of imported Levantine pottery
first found in tombs at Abydos. They are typically identified by non-Egyptian
traits, such as high and thin handles and globular bodies, as well as a wide vari-
ety of decorative techniques, slips, and patterns, including a highly burnished
metallic ware. Some were import containers for liquids or resins used in funer-
ary and other ritual contexts. The entrance ramp to the tomb of Semerkhet
received a coating of an aromatic oil up to a meter thick, an indication of the
abundance of this import. The richness of such First Dynasty tombs indicates
that foreign luxury goods were imported in considerable quantities. As these
goods are found only in funerary contexts, how widely they were distributed for
daily consumption is unknown, but it seems unlikely that they were imported
only to be interred, and—although this is speculative—these burial goods are
probably a small percentage of what was imported.
Data for trade during the Second Dynasty is scarce. If, however, the tomb
of Khasekhemwy at Abydos is any indication, it continued to expand; this
king’s tomb could hold more goods than all First Dynasty tombs at that site
combined.
Old Kingdom (Third–Sixth Dynasties)
Inscriptions indicate that Egyptians were mining at Wadi Maghara (Sinai)

by the reign of Djoser, first king of the Third Dynasty, while during that of
Sanakht, Egypt seems to control Sinai resources. Stone vessels found at Ai
and Tel Yarmuth suggest that trade continued between Egypt and south-
ern Palestine, but, as in the Second Dynasty, little other evidence survives.
Regardless, commerce both with the cities of Palestine and with Byblos prob-
ably continued to grow.
This included the timber trade. Early Dynastic boat burials at Abydos and
Abu Rawash contain hulls that seem to be built only of local timber, while for
tomb 3506 at Saqqara wood was at such a premium that its subsidiary graves
featured either wood coffins or wood-lined pits, but not both. By the reign of
Sneferu, first ruler of the Fourth Dynasty, this had changed: in one year, forty
of this king’s ships returned to Egypt filled with cedar. The primary entrepôt
for this timber was Byblos, but other cities, such as at Tell Arqa and Sidon, may
likewise have supplied it.
12
With this increase in trade must have come a corresponding increase in the
acquisition of raw materials (such as through mining) and finished goods for
export. Large, state-supported expeditions to the Eastern Desert were needed
to obtain the former, and more craftsmen were required to produce the lat-
ter. More timber from Byblos and Nubia would have been needed to build
an increasing number of riverboats to transport imports, exports, building
materials, and workers (such as miners), throughout Egypt. All of this required
additional support personnel with more training, suggesting that the Egyptian
economy must have undergone considerable expansion and improvement in
infrastructure. Organization and management of these increasingly complex
operations called for an expanding bureaucracy. Such development is reflected
in increasingly larger construction projects, especially royal tombs and temples.
Although few imports survive from these tombs, their increasing capacity for
grave goods must reflect a ceaseless expansion of trade from the First into the
Fourth Dynasties.
From the Levant, larger combed-ware jars replaced Abydos wares and
facilitated the importation of greater quantities of liquids, oils, and coniferous
resins. Elemental analysis indicates that some came from Byblos, while others
probably came from the region of Mount Hermon in Palestine. These larger
containers are better suited to be carried aboard ships rather than on donkeys.
Any pottery container will add additional weight to a commodity without add-
ing value and can thus actually reduce the value carried by each donkey; using
a lighter, leather container would allow an animal to carry additional weight of
the commodity of interest to one’s trading partners. In contrast, large imported
pottery containers or large numbers of small pottery containers suggest trans-
port by ship, which can carry greater volumes over longer distances in a shorter
time with less risk of breakage than an overland caravan. In addition to bulk
cargoes of oil and timber, Byblos continued to supply exotica found in royal
tombs built at Meydum, Dahshur, and Giza.
Lapis lazuli reappeared in Egypt at this time. Ebla may have controlled its
import from the east, along with silver from southern Anatolia and possibly
animals: a relief, dating to Sahure’s reign, shows bears and large cats brought
from Syria. Egyptian stone vessels, two of which bear royal names (Khafre;
Pepy I), found at Ebla might indicate this city’s importance, but they are the
only evidence of contact between Ebla and Egypt. They appear to have been
crafted over an extended period of time (Fourth Dynasty; Sixth Dynasty) and
could indicate a trading relationship that spanned much of the Old Kingdom.
Both were found together in the Palace G complex; if they were heirlooms,
they could still support this interpretation. They may also have been of con-
siderable value, especially since they were too shallow for commodities. It is
equally likely based on current evidence that they could have been acquired
more or less contemporaneously as booty or in trade from Egyptians or mid-
dlemen dealing in looted items. Like so many exceptional pieces that appear
12
122 { Samuel Mark
to establish contacts between cultures, the complete story is unknown. That

is, whether trade was direct, indirect, or a combination of both; the last is the
most likely. The Egyptians desired lapis lazuli, and Ebla was positioned to con-
trol this trade along with silver from Anatolia. The Egyptian stone containers
are consistent with other recorded diplomatic gifts to ensure a constant supply
of these valuable resources in the quantities needed.
Trade caravans from southern Palestine and Sinai continued to enter Egypt
via the Ways of Horus. During the Fourth Dynasty, until the reign of Khufu,
the Egyptians used a harbor on the Gulf of Suez, at Wadi el-Jarf, to bring ores
from the mines at Serabit el-Khadim (southern Sinai). Considering the size and
complexity of this site, it may also have been the point of departure for ships
bound for Punt. After the abandonment of Wadi el-Jarf, Ayn Soukhna became
the new transshipment center between Serabit el-Khadim and Memphis, the
capital.
During Khufu’s reign a small Egyptian settlement was established at Buhen,
near the second cataract, for copper processing and possibly trade, but con-
sidering the small size of the site and paucity of evidence of exotic goods, the
latter was probably minimal. Evidence of direct trade with Punt dates to only
slightly later, the Fifth Dynasty king Sahure, with voyages probably sailing from
Mersa/Wadi Gawasis, a harbor far south of Ayn Soukhna. The Palermo Stone
states he imported 80,000 measures of myrrh, 6,000 (?) of electrum, and 2,600
staves (possibly ebony) from Punt. A relief depicting relatively small and lightly
built ships also shows monkeys (including baboons), dogs, and even Puntite
families, while Sahure himself is depicted tending to a myrrh tree.
Even these small seagoing ships could transport volumes of goods far
greater than could be obtained via trade along the Nile. Additionally, by
sailing to the source of myrrh and cutting out the middlemen in Nubia,
the Egyptians could get better value when bartering. The disassembly and
storage of ship timbers and equipment in rock-cut galleys at Mersa/Wadi
Gawasis suggests that such trading voyages were relatively common and dem-
onstrate considerable time and resources that the Egyptian state invested in
each voyage. The undertaking of these risky ventures underscores the need,
demanded by state and temple institutions of increasing size and number, for
large volumes of exotica, especially myrrh. The depiction of the Sahure Punt
ship illustrates another point: an import might not be recognizable as such
even when it is rather common in tombs, such as dogs and monkeys. These—
for example—are believed to have been interred because they were either a
beloved pet or for religious reasons but never because they were valued by
their owners as an exotic import that bestowed a degree of status. Taking this
into account, virtually none of the goods from Punt cited above in this high-
volume trade would survive (e.g., myrrh and electrum, consumed or used to
make Egyptian objects) or, as in the case of dogs and monkeys, be readily
recognized as foreign.
123
International trade may have decreased during the Fifth Dynasty, as the
archaeological record has yielded fewer imported containers, but a lack of a
representative ceramic sampling may skewed the data, as is likewise possible
for the Second and Third Dynasties. Moreover, imported ceramics appear in
the provinces, further skewing the data because it is not clear if these were
primarily containers for imported commodities—possibly suggesting a decen-
tralized government with fewer elite living at court—or if there was a market
in the provinces for empty import containers. Even if imports did decrease, the
quantities attributed to Sahure’s Punt expedition suggest that a great amount
and variety of goods continued to arrive in Egypt. It is thus difficult to rec-
oncile a seeming reduction of trade in the Mediterranean when no evidence
exists for a reduction of trade with Punt, because, compared to long-distance
Red Sea voyages, reaching the Levant was less costly in terms of effort, mate-
rial, and time.
The importance of commerce with Byblos and possibly Ebla persisted
during the Fifth and Sixth Dynasties, as indicated by the large quantities of
Aegyptiaca discovered at both sites. At Byblos it appears to include stone ves-
sels, cylinder seals, statuary, furniture, game boards, faience, and semi-precious
stones, while at Ebla it consists of only one of the previously noted stone ves-
sels. Inscriptions mentioning voyages also survive. A high official named Iny
returned from the Levant with valuables on missions for several kings of the
Sixth Dynasty: silver and other products for Pepy I; lapis lazuli, silver, oils, and
other products for Merenre; and silver and people for Pepy II.
Under Pepy I, unrest is described in the Sinai and southern Palestine.
Another official, Weni, undertook five military expeditions in the northern
Sinai and set sail with troops to southern Palestine to quell another revolt.
That these events did not disrupt trade is suggested by the discovery of Sixth
Dynasty Meidum bowls along the Ways of Horus. Thus commerce in this
region may have persisted until late in the Sixth Dynasty or shortly thereafter,
when population centers in southern Palestine were abandoned and replaced
with semi-nomadic herders.
Interest in Lower Nubia was renewed in the Sixth Dynasty. For Merenre,
Weni cut five channels through the first cataract to allow ships to pass through,
and he constructed seven boats of acacia, so timber may have been an impor-
tant import from this region. The first mentions of caravans through Lower
Nubia also appear during this time. Harkhuf made four journeys to the distant
southern Nubian country of Yam, the precise location of which is uncertain
(possibly also Kush or a land farther south). His route is not known (i.e., the
desert roads or via the Nile). During his first expedition, for Merenre, he boasts
he was the first to explore and “pacify” these regions. On his third journey he
returned with a caravan consisting of three hundred donkeys carrying incense,
ebony, grain, panthers, ivory, and throw- sticks. Under Pepy II, Harkhuf
brought another caravan of goods, including a dancing Pygmy.
124
124 { Samuel Mark
Voyages to Punt continued; Anankhet and his men, building a ship for
Punt, were massacred by “Sand-dwellers,” possibly at Mersa/Wadi Gawasis.
Another official, Khnumhotep, traveled to both Kush and Punt. During this
period cargoes from Punt may have been smaller, considering that Sahure had
sent a flotilla while Anankhet was constructing only one ship. If so, the land-
and-river route through Nubia might have supplemented fewer imports arriv-
ing by sea.
Middle Kingdom (Late Eleventh–Thirteenth Dynasties)
After the reign of Pepy II, when the decline of the central state resulted in
the First Intermediate Period, no evidence exists for significant trade between
Egypt and its foreign neighbors until Mentuhotep II reunified the country. He
established a garrison at Elephantine and from here made incursions south of
the first cataract. One of his officials, Khety, went to Sinai probably for cop-
per, while his steward, Henenu, traveled to Lebanon for cedar. His successor,
Mentuhotep III, sent Henenu to Punt for myrrh.
Amenemhat I moved the capital from Thebes to Itj-tawy in the Fayum
region, probably near Lisht. The government became more centralized and the
bureaucracy grew. Several jewelry caches from royal tombs reflect a consider-
able increase in wealth, partly due to resources brought from Sinai and Punt,
but exploitation of Nubia’s mineral resources became increasingly important.
Concurrently, trade with the Levant, especially for cedar, grew: Amenemhat
I had fleet of twenty cedar ships that helped him defeat another claimant to
the throne.
Amenemhat I was succeeded by Senwosret I, who in turn was succeeded
by Amenemhat II. The Mit Rahina annals date to his reign and mention the
city of Tunip (possibly at Tell Asharneh on the Orontes River) as a trading
partner. The text describes three military expeditions against Asiatics: one
probably to Sinai, the other two against unknown walled towns somewhere in
the Levant. The army returned with 1,554 prisoners, along with considerable
quantities of gold, silver, copper, precious stones, oils, trees, wine, and valuable
timbers. These spoils of war exemplify the goods that Egyptians most desired
and probably later traded for. Given that little evidence exists for substan-
tial trade along the Ways of Horus during this period, these towns were not
likely located in southern Palestine, which was still populated by pastoralists.
Later in the Middle Kingdom, people indigenous to southern Palestine re-
established their cities, but goods still mainly moved westward to coastal cities,
instead of southward overland to Egypt. Thus, Egyptian trade in Palestine
and the Levant was predominantly along the coastal sea route, possibly in
Egyptian ships with Egyptian crews, even as Egyptian ships and crews sailed
on the Red Sea.
125
Amenemhat II may have pursued a strategy that combined trade with mili-
tary excursions into the Levant. Even as late as the Thirteenth Dynasty, the
ruler of Byblos referred to himself as a servant of Egypt. By the late Twelfth
Dynasty, Tell el-Dab’a in the eastern Nile Delta was serving as a seaport for
the Levantine trade; its importance was such that the construction of a palace
began in the Thirteenth Dynasty, but this was never completed. The northeast-
ern location of Tell el-Dab’a also allowed it to receive goods from the Ways of
Horus, increasing its importance.
The peaceful reign of Senwosret II concentrated primarily on trade with
the Near East, dealing in the same commodities as earlier periods. Byblos like-
wise remained Egypt’s most important trade partner, with other trade part-
ners probably extending from Ashkelon in the south to at least as far north as
Ugarit. Ebla also continued to be an important supplier of lapis lazuli, silver,
and possibly animals.
No later than sometime in the Twelfth Dynasty, trade with Minoan Crete
began, as indicated by the appearance of Minoan pottery, such as Kamares
wares, the popularity of which is reflected by the appearance of Egyptianized
imitations. They are difficult to date from their archaeological contexts, as they
either came from ancient dumps or were poorly documented during excava-
tion. Probably used domestically, Minoan wares are found at Kahun, Haraga,
and Lisht. These concentrations were probably influenced by the close proxim-
ity to the capital city of Itj-tawy enjoyed by these sites, but Minoan ceramics
were likely more common throughout Egypt than the archaeological record
suggests, as they appear as far south as Buhen. Furthermore, in the foundation
beneath the floor of the temple of Senwosret I at Tod were discovered remains
of four copper chests inscribed with the name of Amenemhat II. In them were
a large number of silver containers made either by Minoan craftsmen or by
Egyptian craftsmen who borrowed Minoan motifs. Some appear to represent
seashells; others have a whorl pattern not seen in Egyptian arts or crafts prior
to contact with Minoan Crete. Along with these silver pieces was a considerable
amount of lapis lazuli, silver ingots and chains, and gold items.
In exchange, Minoans appear to have received ivory and gold from Egypt,
but possibly a wider variety of items as well, since, as previously noted,
Egyptian exports rarely survive in the archaeological record. Whether trade
between Egypt and Crete was direct or “down the line” is unknown. Given
that no evidence exists for a trade monopoly by any one country and that the
Egyptians competently sailed on the Red Sea, there is no reason to think that
they would not do likewise in the Mediterranean. If Egyptian ships were sail-
ing as far north at Ugarit, making an additional stop in Crete would not pose
a hardship: in the Odyssey (14.257–8), Homer notes that prevailing winds and
currents made the voyage from western Crete to Egypt an easy five days.
Senwosret III had a new channel carved through the first cataract to allow
ships better access to and from Nubia, and he built two fortresses at Semna
126
126 { Samuel Mark
and Uronarti, south of the second cataract, establishing this region as the
southern border of Egypt. Between this border and the first cataract, he
completed fourteen massive forts begun by Senwosret II, providing protec-
tion against Kush, a Nubian kingdom ruled from its capital at Kerma above
the third cataract. Some forts were also used for trade with local populations.
These installations were expensive not only to build but also to support and
maintain, requiring shipments of food and other supplies from Egypt. The
fortress at Buhen alone was garrisoned by about 5,000 soldiers and possibly
their families. That Egypt would and could go to this considerable expense
emphasizes that they allowed Egypt to obtain great wealth through exploi-
tation of Nubian gold and other mineral resources and through trade in
exotica from even farther to the south. The latest Middle Kingdom record
of a Punt voyage dates to Amenemhat IV, but ceramics found at Mersa/
Wadi Gawasis suggest that voyages may have continued into the Thirteenth
Dynasty.
Very little is known about the state of trade during the Thirteenth Dynasty.
By the fifth king, Hor, Lower Nubia was still under Egyptian control, and the
ruler of Byblos, Inten, still referred to himself as the king’s servant, but in the
Delta independent rulers may have governed from Xois and Avaris. As late as
Sobekhotep IV, Egypt seems to maintain control over Lower Nubia, but during
his reign there are revolts, and Kerma eventually took control of this region.
By the end of this dynasty, domination of the north by a dynasty of foreigners
known as the Hyksos forced the Egyptian capital to move from Itj-tawy south-
ward, back to Thebes.
Second Intermediate Period (Fourteenth–Seventeenth Dynasties)
Mediterranean trade patterns appear to have changed little from the Middle
Kingdom. The Hyksos capital at Avaris (Tell el-Dab’a) continued to be an
important seaport for trade with Levantine cities, like Byblos and Ugarit.
The Kamose stela, from late in this period, mentions hundreds of cedar ships
carrying lapis lazuli, gold, silver, bronze axes, turquoise, oils, honey, and fine
woods in its harbor. Through the Second Intermediate Period, however, trade
with Cyprus (probably for copper) increased, even though finds of ceramics,
scarabs, and inscriptions at Serabit el-Khadim indicate mining for copper and
turquoise continued in Sinai. Curiously, little evidence exists for trade with
the Minoans. Considering trade flourished with all other of Egypt’s Middle
Kingdom trade partners, there is no known reason for cessation of trade
with Crete.
By the Fifteenth Dynasty, Hyksos rule included an administrative center at
Memphis, allowing them to tax goods transported along the Nile. Meanwhile,
the southern border of their Theban contemporaries (Sixteenth and Seventeenth
127
Dynasties) was at Elephantine, beyond which the Kushite kingdom, centered

at Kerma, was growing wealthy from mines and quarries in Lower Nubia and
from trade in exotica with groups to the south. Kerma and Avaris traded with
each other mainly along desert caravan trails west of the Nile, denying Theban
Egypt participation in such exchanges. The fortunes of Thebes finally changed
under Kamose, who re-conquered Lower Nubia to the second cataract and
sailed to the Delta, ending this “intermediate” period.
New Kingdom (Eighteenth–Twentieth Dynasties)
Ahmose, first king of the Eighteenth Dynasty, conquered the north, taking
Avaris and its port, and then continued into southern Palestine, creating an
infusion of wealth for the newly reunified country. The new dynasty drew
resources from the Sinai mines that the Hyksos had continued to exploit and
expanded them, with both caravans and ships bringing malachite, copper, and
turquoise to Egypt through Ayn Soukhna or a similar port. Ahmose then
turned his attention southward, probably to consolidate his southern border
and also to obtain raw materials, especially gold.
Thutmose I conquered Kerma and continued on to Kurgus, midway between
the fourth and fifth cataracts. Except for occasional uprisings, these lands
remained under Egyptian control until near the end of the New Kingdom,
providing enormous wealth from mines, quarries, and trade, possibly including
from Punt. Scenes in the tomb of Huy, Viceroy of Kush under Tutankhamen,
show Nubians bringing tribute, including a giraffe, long-horned cattle, and
both wild and tamed leopards (the latter used for hunting). Also depicted are
rings and boxes of electrum, boomerangs, ebony, leopard skins, bows, feathers,
and ostrich eggs. Whatever goods came down the Nile from Punt seem not to
have met Egyptian demand, because sea-lanes were soon reopened.
After the short reign of Thutmose II, his widowed wife and half-sister
Hatshepsut, regent for the young Thutmose III, seized power and went on to
rule for fifteen years. Her mortuary temple at Deir el-Bahri commemorates her
reopening of the sea trade with Punt. Hatshepsut’s fleet of five ships—each
larger than any of Sahure’s—probably sailed from Mersa/Wadi Gawasis and
returned with thirty-one incense trees, large quantities of aromatic resins in
pyramidal shapes, great quantities of ebony, boxes and rings of gold and elec-
trum, a heap of boomerangs, cinnamon wood, antimony, dogs, various mon-
keys, elephant tusks, leopard skins, tamed leopards, a herd of cattle, and four
Puntite chiefs with a large number of other men, women, and children. Such
goods from Punt would have had a major economic impact, and during the
reign of Hatshepsut a political impact, especially if voyages were relatively fre-
quent, as suggested by iconographic and textual evidence. During the Hyksos
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128 { Samuel Mark
period temples and palaces in Egypt had fallen into disrepair, and some had
been stripped of anything of value. By resuming trade with Punt and import-
ing considerable quantities of exotica needed to repair and supply the temples,
Hatshepsut was able to win over the support of the priestly class. These exotic
goods were also desired by Mediterranean trade partners, and consistent access
to large quantities of high-value items allowed Egypt’s international trade to
expand more rapidly.
Great quantities of the same goods listed on the earlier Kamose stela con-
tinued to pass through the port at Tell el-Dab’a. The primary trade partner
was, as in previous centuries, Byblos. Most trade continued to be coastal, and
cedar continued to be a prized import, with inscriptions emphasizing the use of
“new” cedar. The amounts of Levantine pottery found in Egypt indicate that
trade between these regions increased, and connections with Minoan Crete (the
“Keftiu” of inscriptions) probably reopened during Hatshepsut’s reign. The
tomb of her royal steward, Senenmut, contains the earliest known images of
emissaries from Keftiu bringing gifts to Egypt.
There is disagreement as to whether this trade was direct or indirect. What
evidence survives in Egypt consists of a modest amount of Minoan pottery
or local copies showing that Egyptian craftsmen were familiar with this for-
eign ware, while in Crete there are a number of scarabs, some Early Dynastic
stone containers, and amethyst from Egypt, all of which would be consistent
with indirect trade. However, a scene in the tomb of Rekhmire, who served
Thutmose III and Amenhotep II as vizier, shows imports from Keftiu consist-
ing primarily of various gold and silver containers and large amounts of lapis
lazuli, silver, and bronze: all of these are either objects easily recyclable or raw
materials. Resource-poor Crete imported expensive raw materials and exported
high-quality finished goods and, sometimes, the very same exotic raw materi-
als that it had acquired in trade. Thus, most Egyptian imports by the Minoans
probably consisted of exotic and expensive raw materials, especially gold, which
would not survive untransformed in the archaeological record. Moreover, the
Minoans were known as accomplished seafarers, and it seems unlikely that they
would avoid the major international port of Tell el-Dab’a, which their ships
could reach in only five days. Tell el-Dab’a became important especially after
the conquests of Thutmose III, and this king’s palace at the port was decorated
with frescoes in a Minoan style.
The conquests of Thutmose III in the Near East also brought great wealth
in the form of both tribute and trade. He undertook seventeen campaigns,
some by land and others by sea, into the Levant and regions farther east,
to intimidate the populations and collect tribute. These efforts resulted in
unprecedented wealth flowing into Egypt, and they may have opened new
markets or possibly established better trade terms with old partners. Shortly
after Thutmose III defeated Mittani in his 33rd regnal year, Babylon, Assyria,
the Hittites, Cyprus, and Alalakh sent gifts to the pharaoh. Commerce also
129
benefited from this king’s practice of creating and enforcing the allegiance of
vassals by the Egyptianization of the heirs apparent of local ruling families.
Heirs to ruling families were sent at a young age to the Egyptian court to be
educated and forge strong bonds with the heir to the Egyptian throne; upon
reaching adulthood they returned home as rulers sympathetic to the Egyptian
king. Sea routes never appear to change, and before Thutmose III the Ways
of Horus primarily served Sinai and southern Palestine. After his conquests,
this route becomes increasingly important as indicated by the discovery of
150 New Kingdom sites farther north along the Mediterranean coast, dis-
tributed in ten clusters around Egyptian administrative centers or forts, with
increased trade probably coming via terrestrial routes from some of these
conquered lands.
Amenhotep II undertook only two campaigns in Syria, both to put down
rebellions. From Takhsy, the army carried back to Egypt plunder that included
6,800 deben (c.745 kg) of gold, 500,000 deben (c.55,000 kg) of copper, 210 horses,
300 chariots, and 550 captives. It is, however, this king’s alliance with Mitanni
that had the greatest impact on trade, allowing amicable and open access to all
countries as far as the Euphrates. This elevated the economic importance of the
already valuable Ways of Horus, particularly during the reign of his grandson
Amenhotep III. Amenhotep III’s peaceful thirty-eight-year reign allowed con-
siderable new construction, which was underwritten by bumper crops of grain,
as well as immense imports from the south and the north.
By early in Amenhotep III’s reign, if not sooner, Minoan Crete fell to the
Mycenaean Greeks, although this did not stop trade between Egypt and the
Aegean. The evidence for direct and indirect contact remains the same as for
earlier periods, but an inscription, the “Aegean list” from Amenhotep III’s
memorial temple at Kom el-Hetan, presents an inventory of specific sites on
Crete and mainland Greece, indicating an intimate knowledge of the region and
supporting the possibility of Egyptian voyages there. Possibly during his reign
a resupply station may have been established to the west of Egypt on Bates’s
Island, Marsa Matruh where Minoan, Mycenaean, and Cypriot artifacts have
been found. Foreign traders may have traded there with local Libyans, as sug-
gested by the discovery of ostrich eggshells.
Although wealth continued to flow from Nubia, Punt, the Eastern Desert,
and the Sinai mines, starting with the reign of Akhenaten and continu-
ing through the 21st year of Ramesses II, the size of the empire to the east
expanded and contracted, usually with Mitanni and then the Hittites as the
main antagonists. Mismanagement of foreign affairs and a costly war against
the Hittites led to a loss of territory and associated reduction of tribute from
the east. Additionally, Egypt may have lost access to these lands and harbors,
such as Ugarit, which fell under Hittite rule, with a result in diminished trade.
The enormous diversity of international trade that nonetheless per-
sisted during this uneasy period is represented by the Uluburun shipwreck,
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130 { Samuel Mark
a ship—possibly Canaanite—that sank off the Anatolian coast late in the

Eighteenth Dynasty, carrying a rich cargo that included 10 tons of Cypriot
copper, 1 ton of tin, gold jewelry, Egyptian scarabs (including one in gold with
the name of Queen Nefertiti), Nubian or Syrian elephant ivory, Egyptian or
southern Palestinian hippopotamus ivory, Canaanite and Cypriot carved ivory,
Nubian or Libyan ostrich eggshells, Egyptian glass, and ebony from Punt or
elsewhere in Africa. The wealth, particularly in raw and recyclable materials,
carried aboard this one ship on one voyage suggests that trade was healthy even
during these troubled times and probably far more diverse and of greater extent
than typically suspected.
In the 21st year of Ramesses II, he concluded a treaty with the Hittites
that once again opened peaceful relations among all countries in the region,
allowing trade to return to levels not seen since the reign of Amenhotep III.
With this wealth Ramesses II built extensively, including, near Avaris, a city
he named Piramesse. Commerce by sea and along the Ways of Horus from
Palestine and Syria made Piramesse, like Avaris before it, an international
entrepôt.
This new golden age was short lived. In the waning years of his reign and
that of his son Merenptah, Mycenaean civilization collapsed, as did parts of
the Hittite empire. Concurrent with these events was a disruptive movement of
populations known collectively in ancient times as the “Peoples of the Sea.”
Originating largely from the Aegean and Anatolia, these migrants may have
been fleeing political or climatic hardships, and in fact the situation in Anatolia
became dire enough that Merenptah sent grain to the Hittites to alleviate a
famine.
Egypt’s struggle for its own stability succeeded with the rise of the
Twentieth Dynasty. Beyond Egypt, however, the Hittite empire collapsed,
Tarsus and much of Cilicia was sacked, and Alalakh, Ugarit, and Enkomi
(capital of Cyprus) were destroyed as well. In year 8 of Ramesses III’s
thirty-year reign, the Sea Peoples once again attacked Egypt and were again
defeated. He was able to retain Egypt’s eastern possessions and send what
would be the last recorded voyage to Punt. For most of his reign trade flour-
ished, and he completed a splendid memorial temple along the Theban west
bank (Medinet Habu), as well as buildings in Piramesse. There is a pattern
in Egyptian history of an increase massive building projects corresponding
to an influx of wealth from war and trade, but Ramesses III’s reign also wit-
nessed decentralization of the government, large contributions to temples,
and soaring grain prices. Even the great harbor at Piramesse began to silt up
and disappear.
After the death of Ramses III, the disintegration of the Egyptian empire
began and with it a loss of markets for trade. Northern possessions quickly
slipped from Egypt’s grasp, as did Nubia, resulting in a loss of Nubian
resources and exotica from Punt, further reducing access to high-value trade
13
goods and resulting wealth from elsewhere. Ramesses VI was the last recorded
king to mine in Sinai, and not long after his reign Egyptian rulers could not
send successful expeditions even into the Eastern Desert, leaving them with
little wealth to trade. The New Kingdom concluded with the throne occupied
by Rameses XI, whose rule of some thirty years ended with his kingdom con-
sisting of merely Lower Egypt, while a number of usurpers ruled Upper Egypt
from Thebes, the last being Herihor, whose reign obtained its resources largely
through tomb robbery rather than trade.
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13
8 }
Artisans and Their Products

INTERACTION IN ART AND ARCHITECTURE
Stuart Tyson Smith
Ancient Egyptian art and architectural styles impacted cultures in the Levant,
Aegean, and Nubia (pl. 6). Egyptian-style temples beyond Egypt’s southern
border and Egyptianizing coffins in Syria-Palestine are both examples of the
widespread influence of Egyptian art and architectural styles, and very likely
the movement of Egyptian artisans beyond Egypt’s borders. Egypt’s engage-
ment with both of these regions increased over time from the Bronze to Iron
Age, forming distinctively blended modes of art and architecture and playing a
key role in the development of the International Style that flourished in the sec-
ond and first millennium BCE. At the same time, Egyptian artisans were influ-
enced by foreign elements in an increasingly cosmopolitan society, although
these impacts were subtler. The presence of Aegean-style art and Levantine
artistic motifs attest to Egyptian importation of foreign art, and very likely
artisans and artists, some of whom may have circulated as a part of the official
diplomatic exchanges between royal courts that characterized the Near Eastern
Bronze and Iron Age. These influences and interactions vary by individual site,
region, and period, following on and conditioned by individual interactions
and engagement with material culture obtained through trade and conquest.
Egypt is often thought of as more engaged and culturally entangled with the
Middle East, but the profoundest impacts lay in another part of Africa, Nubia
(southern Egypt and northern Sudan).
Going back a hundred years to the diffusionist models of Petrie and Smith,
both foreign influence on Egypt and the transfer of Egyptian cultural fea-
tures to the areas surrounding Egypt, including art and architecture, are often
seen as a unidirectional process, where artistic and architectural styles were
adopted wholesale. In particular, a model of Egyptianization has been and
to some extent still is applied in the context of Egypt’s dominant-subordinate
133
134
134 { Stuart Tyson Smith
relationships with its Levantine and especially Nubian empires. The concept
of Egyptianization, like related models of Romanization and Hellenization,
is coming under increasing criticism. Cultural transmission is sometimes, but
rarely, perfect, and the adoption of cultural practices, including art and archi-
tecture, were more often selective and adaptive and flowed in both directions,
even in the context of imperial domination.
Michael Dietler’s (2010) model of cultural entanglement provides a robust
framework that can capture the complex dynamics of intercultural borrowings
and the often unintended consequences that can result from the intercultural
consumption of material culture, in our case art and architecture. Entanglement
takes into account both sides of the exchange, calling for a nuanced analy-
sis of the intersection of the different social and cultural logics of the parties
involved, leading to the adoption, adaptation, indifference to, or rejection of
different cultural features in any relationship. Additionally, the idea of cultural
entanglement allows us to consider the role of individual action where cultural
borrowings flow through a constant dialectic between the constraints of cul-
tural predispositions and the pressure of individual adaptation and innovation
that comes to the fore through interaction and exposure to different cultural
practices, in our case through the movement of material culture, artists, and
artisans to and from Egypt.
Early similarities in art and iconography exist between Egypt and the Nubian
A-Group during the late Predynastic and into the Early Dynastic Period. Some
items were almost certainly made in Egypt and sent as gifts to the A-Group
rulers, but other objects, most notably the Qustul incense burner, were clearly
made locally using iconography normally connected with Egyptian kingship,
probably reflecting mutual influence. The Egyptian expansion into Lower
Nubia during the Middle Kingdom reengaged the two regions after a hiatus
during the Old Kingdom. The empire introduced artisans of various kinds and
large-scale mud-brick architecture through the establishment of a major series
of fortresses over the course of the Twelfth Dynasty. By the end of the dynasty,
these fortresses were true colonies, with communities of Egyptian immigrants
making Nubia their home. Several sites, including Askut, Buhen, Mirgissa, and
Serra East, have produced archaeological evidence for local craft production
along Egyptian lines, notably pottery workshops, but also including a variety
of other basic activities, including weaving, metallurgy, and lithic production.
Although the pottery industry largely mimicked contemporary Egyptian forms
and decoration, some Nubian stylistic motifs were adopted. Often referred to
as “gilded ware,” a new decorative mica-rich slip technique that gave a golden
glow to vessels was an innovation of Egyptian potters working in Nubia and
was eventually adopted by Nubian potters.
Egyptian architects brought the most elaborate forms of large-and small-
scale mud-brick architecture to Nubia, constructing some of the most massive
and elaborate fortifications seen in the ancient world, as well as administrative
135
Interaction in Art and Architecture } 135
complexes and residences for the elite and commons. Tombs of the elite in
associated cemeteries were also constructed in Egyptian style with mud-brick
architecture and underground complexes, with simpler tombs and burials for
the rest of the colony’s inhabitants. A variety of jewelry and other examples of
the decorative arts, such as furniture and figurines, have also been found in the
Egyptian colonial settlements and cemeteries. It is not clear just how much of
this material might have been imported, but it is likely that immigrant artisans
made many locally. The same may be said for grave goods, including funerary
amulets, statuary, and elaborately decorated coffins.
The presence of Nubian material culture at all of these sites suggests a closer
interrelationship between the local population and the fortress communities
than the general decline of imports and Egyptian influence at indigenous C-
Group sites would suggest. In particular, the presence of Nubian pottery and
disproportionate presence of large percentages of cooking pottery at Askut
points towards intermarriage, bringing with it some Nubian influence in crafts
such as ceramic production, figurines, and lithics. In Egypt itself, the presence
of Nubian soldiers at sites such as Deir el-Ballas and Avaris (Tell el-Dab’a) is
reflected through ceramics and other material culture. Similarly, the Pan Grave
culture, loosely correlated with the historic semi-nomadic Medjay, was a distinct
presence in Upper Egypt and parts of Nubia, with a distinctive material cul-
ture and ceramic tradition that mixed elements drawn from Egypt and Kerma.
Direct Nubian influence on Egyptian artisans is hard to trace but includes the
use of fly imagery in jewelry, considered to be an award for military valor, such
as those of Queen Ahhotep. Golden flies also appear in the Levant, for example
in graves at Tell el-Ajuul in the Gaza Strip, presumably transmitted via Egypt.
The invasion of Lower Nubia and construction and elaboration of the for-
tress system was motivated by the rise of the first kingdom of Kush, whose cap-
ital lay just south of the third cataract at Kerma. Based upon the presence of
Egyptian-influenced architecture, statuary, and craft industries, Reisner origi-
nally thought that the site was the southernmost Egyptian colony, but even at
the time this notion was quickly criticized, for example by Junker, who empha-
sized Kerma’s non-Egyptian nature. Although a few individual pieces may
represent royal gifts, Egyptian Middle Kingdom statuary, such as the famous
seated monuments of the nomarch of Asyut Djefaihapi and his wife Sennuwy
found in the last royal tomb, most likely reached Kerma as booty from razzia
like the one described in the autobiography of Sobeknakht. We now know that
Kerma was the center of a burgeoning state, increasing in centralization and
power over the course of the Middle Kingdom, a real rival to Egypt’s inter-
ests in the region and key partner in managing trade in key luxury materials,
including items that were important to Egyptian artisans, such as gold, ivory,
and ebony.
Far from being Egyptianized, Kerman artists and architects adapted
Egyptian technologies and styles and integrated them into their own cultural
136
framework, probably aided by Egyptian artisans. The earliest architecture was

dominated by typically Nubian round post structures but increasingly over
time incorporated rectilinear mud-brick architecture and structural features,
sometimes in combination with more traditional forms and/or using a distinc-
tive, non-Egyptian layout. Presumably helped by Egyptians, Kerman archi-
tects created three massive mud-brick temple complexes during the Second
Intermediate Period, when the civilization dominated Egypt. One of these mon-
uments, called deffufas in Nubian, lay at the center of the city, while two others
provided a cult focus for royal tombs in the massive cemetery. As D. O’Connor
has noted, their overall plan echoes the general shape of Egyptian temples,
with a kind of pylon feature in the settlement and cemetery deffufas, as well as
in the axial plan of the cemetery deffufas. Unlike Egyptian temples, however,
the settlement deffufa has a side entrance with a winding passageway and stair
leading to the roof within an otherwise solid mass of masonry. The later cem-
etery deffufa, K-II, included a winged sun disk flanked by uraei on its lintel and
Egyptianizing faience inlays in the interior (fig. 8.1). The latter included lions
and a cavetto cornice custom-made for the building, as well as reused faience
vessels cut into presumably Egyptian-inspired rosette patterns and inlaid into
the ceiling. The adjacent massive circular royal burial tumuli reflect local archi-
tectural traditions but incorporated a mud-brick internal structure that was
likely also adapted from Egyptian mud-brick architectural techniques.
FIGURE 8.1 Kerma cemetery deffufa K-II with winged sun disk carved in relief on the fallen
granite lintel.
137
A faience workshop was found associated with the settlement deffufa,

another example of the transfer of technology from Egypt to Nubia. Objects
included the inlays discussed above, but also the production of both Egyptian-
inspired pieces, as well as items made in local artistic styles, including faience
vessels mimicking basketry. Copper-alloy metallurgy was also influenced by
Egyptian technology. For example, daggers found and likely made at Kerma
were similar in basic shape and fabrication, but employed distinctively Nubian
ivory handles—a style that in turn influenced daggers in Egypt during the
Second Intermediate Period and early New Kingdom, reflecting the complex
two-way entanglements that ultimately characterized these kinds of cultural
transfers. Another important adaptive Kerma borrowing from Egypt was
in the production and use of stamp seals. Some of these seals were certainly
Egyptian imports, in particular scarabs, but distinctively Nubian geometric
motifs reflect an adaptation of the medium to suit local preferences. A locally
produced handmade bowl found at Kerma imitated an Egyptian wheel-thrown
shape, but with an incised Aegean running spiral motif that presumably came
via Egypt or perhaps was inspired by an Aegean import, an example of a com-
plex multi-regional entanglement.
Ivory inlays from Egyptian- style beds with decorated footboards also
showed a mix of motifs. In particular, inlays featured an adapted version of
the goddess Taweret wearing a leather kilt and wielding knives. Vultures with
wings spread could also reflect Egyptian influence. Rosettes were likely inspired
by the Egyptian and ultimately Near Eastern motif. Near Eastern influence
is reflected in the Mesopotamian trope of goats flanking and nibbling on a
tree. Other themes such as lions (resonating with the K-II inlays), ostrich, fox,
frog, turtle, or giraffe are more likely indigenous, since all of these animals
would have been part of the local milieu. Motifs that overlap with the ivory
inlays, including likely examples of Taweret, ostrich, giraffe, leopards, plants,
and rosettes, were also found on sheets of mica used to decorated clothing, a
distinctively Kerman practice.
Early artistic influence on Egypt from the Near East includes the well-known
serpopods on the Narmer palette and the use of cylinder seals and glyptic,
but these elements were either quickly abandoned or adapted. Although some
Egyptian artistic and architectural influence in the Levant goes back to the
Old Kingdom, the most dramatic examples of borrowings from Egyptian art
and architecture came during the Middle Bronze Age (MB), roughly contem-
porary with the Middle Kingdom and Kerma civilization. A number of pieces
of often monumental royal and more modest statuary of Egyptian officials
distributed around the Levant once suggested to Egyptologists the existence
of a widespread Middle Kingdom empire similar to that in Lower Nubia. As
with Kerma, this notion has been discarded, and most if not all of the statuary
appears to have been imported during the Second Intermediate Period, most
likely as gifts distributed by the Hyksos rulers, looted from Egyptian cemeteries
138
and temples. Nevertheless, they provided an important material conduit for

Egyptian artistic influence, including motifs such as the sphinx and striding/
smiting pose. The Hyksos capital at Avaris provided a conduit for Levantine
influence into Egypt. MB architecture was introduced in form of temples, met-
alwork included weaponry (in particular the sickle or khopesh-style sword), and
perhaps most importantly the art of making chariotry. MB pottery shape and
decoration had a profound effect on Egyptian potters, influencing the develop-
ment types of carinated bowls and small jars, amphoras of various kinds, and
monochrome and bichrome decorative motifs that continued through the New
Kingdom.
The most dramatic Egyptian influence on the Levant can be seen at cen-
ters for Egypt’s flourishing trade network, in particular Byblos during the MB,
but also on a smaller scale in cemeteries and settlements scattered throughout
Syria-Palestine. Byblos’s artisans, perhaps bolstered by expatriate Egyptians,
produced works that were sometimes highly imitative and at other times highly
adaptive. The Byblian taste for Egyptian things doubtless derived from its
close trading relationship, stretching back at least to the Old Kingdom, when
“Byblos ships” brought cedar and other products to Egypt. The local rulers
styled themselves as “governors,” but also adopted the trappings of Egyptian
kings, including the use of cartouches and uraei.
Some of these items came as royal gifts, but most were commissioned locally
in an Egyptian style. Good examples of the latter are three gold-foil falcon col-
lars from separate royal tombs at Byblos, modeled on but departing somewhat
from the Egyptian wesekh-style broad collar. As a result, they are usually seen
as local products, but the rendering of falcons on the best example is masterful,
perhaps pointing to the presence of an Egyptian artisan serving a Byblian ruler.
Other pieces of jewelry were decorated with Egyptian themes and sometimes
bore the names of local rulers enclosed in cartouches. Local artisans also repur-
posed Egyptian imports into new settings, as was the case with an amethyst
scarab set into a simple gold foil bracelet. Although wood and other organic
material had decayed, inlaid eyes indicate that the Byblian rulers were buried
in wooden coffins modeled on the Middle Kingdom Egyptian rectangular type.
Given the ready availability of high-quality wood, they were presumably made
by local artisans. Two uraeus inlays found in the Tomb II burial suggest that at
least one of the rulers was also buried in a mummiform coffin and perhaps with
a funerary mask, although one wonders if the second uraeus might have come
from a crown, as was surely the case for a gold band with apotropaic hiero-
glyphs surmounted by a uraeus. Egyptianizing elements from wooden furniture
were also found, but again departing from contemporary Egypt, such as gilded
bronze lotiform elements from the legs of a chair or throne.
The plan of the Temple of the Obelisks at Byblos is similar to the layout
of Fifth Dynasty sun temples. The layout was nevertheless adaptive, with
a tripartite shrine behind a central platform with open courtyard and large
139
obelisk. Arrays of smaller obelisks were placed around the courtyard, resonat-
ing with the longstanding indigenous practice of standing stones at shrines.
The temple was embellished with obelisks, some of which had hieroglyphic
inscriptions, over a long period of time. The offerings at Byblos’s temples also
show Egyptian influence, including simple faience statuettes of the hippo god-
dess Taweret and monkey and feline/lion figurines similar to modest votive
offerings from contemporary Egypt. As noted above, Taweret appears on bed
inlays at Kerma and is rendered in a similar protective pose with knives on art
and glyptic from Levant. The popular household leonine dwarf god Bes also
makes an appearance in MB glyptic. The most distinctive votive offerings from
the Obelisk Temple are the striding figures wearing short kilts and tall crowns,
sometimes with a knob reminiscent of the Egyptian white crown (see fig. 8.5 for
a later example). These represent the patron god of Byblos, Reshef, who was
eventually brought into the Egyptian pantheon. While influenced by the classic
Egyptian pose of the striding/smiting king or god, they are nevertheless in a
distinctively local style and thus were clearly locally produced.
Bronze weaponry from the period shows a complex set of entanglements in
style, technology, and craftsmanship that reach from Egypt through the Levant
and into the Aegean. Egyptian artisans developed a sophisticated technique of
contrasting colored metal inlays using a “black bronze” method similar to mod-
ern Japanese sakudo decorative metalwork. They attained the “black bronze”
effect by adding gold into the alloy and treating it with an acid solution that
produced a durable blue-black copper oxide layer ideal for inlaying contrast-
ing decorative elements of gold, silver, or electrum. One of the most dramatic
examples is Ahhotep’s dagger from the end of the Second Intermediate Period,
although the technique originated in the Middle Kingdom. The method is
found at Byblos in an Egyptianizing sword inlaid with uraei and hieroglyphs
for King Ip-shemu-abi. This sickle-shaped sword had a hooked end that marks
it as a local product. The shape was adapted for the Egyptian scimitar, which
lacked the hook at the end, often referred to as khopesh for its similarity to the
foreleg of sacrificed cattle.
The use of a decorative strip running down the middle of Ahhotep’s blade
and the inlaid lotus and locust motifs are Egyptian, but a lion chasing a bull
in “flying gallop” originated in the Aegean and spread through the Near East
and into Egypt, where it also influenced royal and private decorative and monu-
mental hunting scenes. Daggers from tombs in the contemporary Aegean (Late
Helladic I and II) use the same “black bronze” technique with a central strip
along the blade. Animals in “flying gallop” and Nilotic lotus motifs appear on
blades from Mycenae and other sites, although animals and vegetative elements
are rendered as solid inlays rather than using wire outlines as in the Egypt and
the Levant. An ax from Ahhotep’s tomb reflects similar intercultural entangle-
ments. Its shape and decoration is mainly Egyptian, but the blade includes an
image of Montu as a griffon in Aegean style, with distinctively rendered head
140
and plumage. The griffon itself, however, originated in Egypt, including the
lithe, panther-like body. A competing style with Egyptian falcon face markings
and royal crown spread from Egypt to the Near East and became an important
motif in the later International Style. Other elements found in Near Eastern
and Aegean art reflect Egyptian influence, including a schematized version of
the Egyptian Hathor-style curled wig on depictions of sphinxes. Nilotic motifs
also appear on Minoan frescoes, as well as palace paintings at MB sites like
Tell Sakka in southern Syria, which also has an Egyptian-inspired royal/divine
figure wearing a version of the atef crown. Several scholars have argued that
Aegean painters and sculptors, who may have travelled to Egypt, employed a
version of the Egyptian canon of proportions, but in any case they adapted
Egyptian artistic styles and created Egyptian-influenced motifs such as the
Nilotic theme with bunches of papyrus and lotuses (pl. 6).
The Egyptian New Kingdom empire reached farther than the Middle
Kingdom in both the Levant and Nubia. In the latter, it was accompanied by
massive building projects in the form of large temple complexes, for example,
the famous rock-cut temple at Abu Simbel (pl. 6). New administrative centers
were constructed from the second to third cataract, Amara West as late as the
Ramesside Period. Stone temples were also built at most of the old fortresses,
as well as in the former indigenous centers of Kerma Dokki Gel, Kawa, and
Gebel Barkal. Monuments such as Soleb temple were designed entirely along
Egyptian lines, decorated with the highest quality reliefs and laid out on an
axial plan moving from more open courtyards/porticos to hypostyle halls and,
finally, barque-shrine sanctuaries. Since the workmanship is to such a high
standard, Egyptian artisans must either have come especially for the temple
construction or settled in the colony, where they could work on these and other
projects. The temple of Ramesses II at Abu Simbel is exceptional in its rock-
cut design and reflects an entanglement with Nubian religious beliefs, which
included the use of cave shrines from an early date and later on the concept
of a divine presence within a mountain, most notably at Napata/Gebel Barkal
and perhaps symbolically earlier with the Kerma settlement deffufa. In both
places, a local ram deity was syncretized with the Egyptian god Amun. As a
result, ram imagery was borrowed for the Nubian manifestation of Amun and
exported to Egypt, a reflection of mutual influence in spite of seemingly over-
whelming Egyptian cultural domination. Ram imagery appears even earlier at
Kerma, perhaps already influenced by Egyptian iconography, highlighting the
complexities and long history of entanglement between the two cultures in the
sphere of religion and art.
Although traditional Nubian practices and industries survived to some
extent, Egyptian-style material culture, including pottery, grave goods, and
funerary architecture, was widely adopted throughout Nubia, but more selec-
tively in some places. Some high-quality objects were doubtless imported, but
local communities of artisans must have met demand for everyday objects
14
such as pottery, furnishings, and ornaments. Similarly, Egyptian-style mud-

brick housing and tomb structures required the presence of architects familiar
with the construction of, for example, large-scale mud-brick enclosure walls,
rock-cut tombs, and the small mud-brick pyramid tombs common in the New
Kingdom. Remnants of high-quality painted decoration found in the rock-cut
tomb of the local prince Djehutyhotep in Lower Nubia and fragments from
mud-brick pyramid tombs at Sai and Tombos farther south attest to the pres-
ence of skilled artists who produced monuments rivaling their counterparts
in Egypt.
Both wooden and ceramic coffins were also likely made locally (fig. 8.2),
although some very high-quality coffins might have been imported, for exam-
ple, those with elaborate inlays. Ceramic coffins appear at sites in Nubia but are
common at Tombos. They have a range of more “realistic” to more abstract
renderings of the face similar to examples from Egypt and the Levant, but with
a regional preference for a two-part lid and single-piece trough rather than the
more common two-part “slipper” style—a large round jar with an opening at
one end covered by a plate where the face was represented. Ceramic coffins are
so large and fragile that they were certainly made locally by specialized potters.
Although heavily damaged by termites, the carving of the wooden coffin face
from Tombos reflects a skilled hand but is not of a quality that would point to
an import; instead more likely it was made in a local workshop that helped to
meet the colony’s demand for Egyptian grave goods. The conquered Kerma
FIGURE 8.2 Heads from locally made New Kingdom ceramic and wooden coffins at Tombos
142
culture already had a thriving faience industry, so it is likely that many of the
Egyptian-style amulets and beads found in cemeteries and settlements were
produced in Nubia.
In spite of the Egyptian temples, the region upstream of the third cata-
ract shows a stronger tendency toward adaptation during the New Kingdom.
For example, a round mud-brick temple coexisted with mud-brick and later
stone temples at Kerma Dokki Gel, indicating that both Egyptian and indig-
enous architects coexisted. Remains of an Egyptian-style naos from a Third
Intermediate Period deposit suggest a degree of architectural entanglement.
Similarly, the New Kingdom through Third Intermediate Period cemetery at
Hillat el-Arab, near Napata, has underground shaft and chamber complexes
modeled along Egyptian lines, but with painted scenes of humans and boats
most closely resembling local rock art, suggesting a selective adaptation of
Egyptian features by indigenous artisans. Burials included Egyptian-style amu-
lets, again most probably locally produced, but omitted coffins, which were
common at colonies like Tombos even after the end of the New Kingdom.
Similarly, Nubian pottery traditions continued to exist during the New
Kingdom and enjoyed a revival in the Third Intermediate Period, but some-
times mixing Egyptian and Nubian traditions: for example, wheel-thrown but
with Nubian polished blacktopped decoration.
With the emergence of the Kushite Twenty-fifth Dynasty, Nubian art and
architecture at first glance appears to be entirely imitative, but a closer exami-
nation reveals its adaptive and innovative character. For example, kings are
often, although not inevitably, shown with a double uraeus, a feature also
found on their shabtis. They also developed a new, distinctive cap-crown that
continued in use long after they lost control over Egypt (fig. 8.2). Scholars have
assumed that local artisans ceased producing Egyptian-style architecture and
objects in favor of a Nubian revival immediately after the New Kingdom, but
recent archaeological work suggests that some colonial communities continued
to thrive throughout the Third Intermediate Period, providing some continuity
in architecture, art, and crafts going into the Twenty-fifth Dynasty. Similarly,
László Török points out that Kushite temple building adapted the sacred land-
scape created during the New Kingdom, focusing on the Nubian ram-headed
manifestation of Amun along with deities associated with Nubia like Dedwen,
the deified Senwosret III, and ram-headed Khnum, his consort Satet, and their
daughter Anukis from Aswan. The pre-Twenty-fifth Dynasty vignette and
inscription of Nubian Queen Katimala also points toward a continuity in artis-
tic and scribal traditions from the New Kingdom into the Third Intermediate
Period. The Nubian pharaohs, especially Taharqa, expanded and rebuilt exist-
ing monuments at sites including Kawa and Gebel Barkal, which continued its
role of southern counterpart to the great temple of Karnak at Thebes. Taharqa
specifically mentions bringing artisans from Egypt to make sure that the work
was done properly. Nevertheless, Egyptian artistic styles were adapted and
143
novel forms created based upon Egyptian styles to suit Nubian sensibilities.
This included a continuing elaboration of Amun’s ram imagery, including a
distinctive ram’s head amulet shown on depictions of kings and officials that
is also attested archaeologically (fig. 8.3). Criosphinxes, which were installed at
the great temple of Amun at Karnak during the New Kingdom, appear flank-
ing processional ways, for example at Taharqa’s rebuilt and expanded Amun
temple at Gebel Barkal.
The pyramids adopted by Kushite kings, queens, and the Nubian elite dur-
ing the Twenty-fifth Dynasty would seem to represent the adoption of a quint-
essentially Egyptian royal monument, borrowed in a new wave of influence
from Egypt as a tool to legitimize the new dynasty as successors to phara-
onic rule (pl. 6). However, the last royal pyramid was built in Egypt at the
beginning of the Eighteenth Dynasty, over six hundred years before the first
Napatan royal pyramids (at the earliest c.800 BCE). Many royal pyramids in
Egypt were of course still visible and theoretically could have provided a model
for a Kushite archaizing revival, but the architecture of the Nubian pyramids is
quite different from Egyptian royal tombs. Instead, with their scale, steep sides,
and attached chapel, they most closely resemble the private pyramids of the
New Kingdom, dozens of which were built at colonial centers like Amara, Sai,
Soleb, and Tombos over the course of the empire. These monuments, some of
which continued in use (and perhaps were still constructed) during the Third
FIGURE 8.3 Wearing the Kushite cap-crown and amulets of Amun as a ram, Pharaoh Tanutamun is
led toward Isis by Imsety, one of the Four Sons of Horus, in a scene from the entrance chamber of the
underground burial complex of his pyramid tomb at el-Kurru, near Napata.
14
Intermediate Period at sites such as Tombos, Soleb, and Amara West, would
have provided a more immediate model for the new Kushite rulers. Thus, the
Nubian pyramids can be seen as the adaptation in more monumental form of
what by this time may have been a local architectural style, albeit with Egyptian
ties. Decoration and grave goods largely followed Egyptian prototypes. The
Osirion at Abydos inspired Taharqa’s underground burial complex at Nuri,
opposite Gebel Barkal, and the decorative program of the burial complexes
of Tanutamun and his mother Qalhata employed Egyptian-style starry ceil-
ings evoking the Duat and passages and vignettes from the Book of the Dead
(fig. 8.3). Stone sarcophagi, amulets, shabtis, and other grave goods mirrored
contemporary Egypt, with some adaptations (for example, the use of a double
uraeus) and preferences for certain amulets (such as the double-sided Pataikos/
Isis). The fact that Qalhata’s and other queen’s tombs mirror those of kings
in scale and decorative program marks a difference with Egypt, where queens
occupied a more subordinate role.
The use and continuing production of Egyptian-style amulets during the
Third Intermediate Period and into the Late Period reflects selective adop-
tion of Egyptian iconography, but with some adaptation. Certain deities
were favored, in particular Isis, Hathor, Pataikos, and Bes, as seen in amulets
from Tombos (fig. 8.4B–F). The eye of Horus and scarabs were also popu-
lar (fig. 8.4A and H). Heart scarabs were provided for both royals and high-
ranking members of the elite, for example, one associated with a pyramid tomb
at Tombos (fig. 8.4I). Its strong similarity to heart scarabs from the royal cem-
etery at el Kurru suggests a local workshop that supplied the needs of both
elite and royals. The inscription is a very accurate rendering of Spell 30b from
the Book of the Dead, pointing to the existence of a robust scribal society that
assisted with the production of art.
Some individual items may have been imported, but it is likely that local
artisans made most. In particular, the Bat-Hathor/lotus amulet from Tombos
echoes but nevertheless departs from traditional Egyptian iconography, sug-
gesting an adaptive approach by the artisan (fig. 8.4D). The increasing impor-
tance of the god Bes in both amulets and architectural settings provides an
example of entanglement stretching back to the New Kingdom. An amulet
from Tombos was found still in situ around the neck of a woman buried in
Nubian style during the late Eighteenth Dynasty (fig. 8.4G), attesting to the
dwarf god’s early appeal. By the Twenty-fifth Dynasty, Bes appears not only in
amuletic form (fig. 8.4F) but also uncharacteristically for Egypt in monumental
form, as the pillars from rock-cut Temple B-300 at Gebel Barkal illustrate (c.690
BCE, fig. 8.4J). Unusual representations of the masculine and feminine aspects
of Bes appear on two large ceramic plaques that would have been attached to
the walls of a neighborhood temple at Kawa, again attesting to a thriving com-
munity of local artisans adapting Egyptian motifs into novel forms. A similarly
scaled statue of Bes, atypical for Egypt, was found in Phoenician Sidon.
145
FIGURE 8.4 A–I, Amulets from burials at Tombos, all but G from the Third Intermediate Period; B,
C, E, F, and H found together (A, eye of Horus; B, Isis suckling Horus and wearing the crown of Upper
and Lower Egypt; C, Isis suckling Horus and wearing a horned crown with sun disk and uraei; D, Bat-
Hathor with lotus and uraeus crown; E, Pataikos/Isis; F, Bes from the Third Intermediate Period; G, Bes
from the New Kingdom; H, scarab with unusual offering scene; I, heart scarab; and J, a monumental
Bes column from Taharqa’s rock-cut Temple B-300 at Gebel Barkal.
The Late Bronze Age (LB) saw the emergence of the International Style,
blending Egyptian, Levantine, and Aegean motifs, which continued to charac-
terize art and architecture through the Iron Age. The exchange of artists would
have contributed to the vibrant interweaving of motifs drawn from Egypt,
the Levant, Mesopotamia, Anatolia and the Aegean that characterizes the
International Style. As Shaw discusses in this volume, the exchange of artisans
was a fundamental part of the ancient Near Eastern palace system, especially
146
moving into the Iron Age. Unlike the heavy investment in colonization to the
south, New Kingdom colonies were established at only a few key centers in the
Levant, notably at Deir el-Balah in the Gaza Strip, inland at Beth Shean, and
farther north along the coast at Tell Dor in northern Israel. Egyptian-style
palaces and temples were built at these centers and artisans joined the colonies,
leading to lasting influence. In particular, Egyptian-style ceramic coffins appear
at Deir el-Balah and Beth Shean, although as noted above unlike at Tombos
they were of the “slipper” style. Examples from Egypt and Tombos included
elaborate painting along the lines of wooden coffins, but as at Tombos, simpler
decoration prevailed in the Levant, ranging from more realistic treatments of
the head and arms to very abstract renderings (some very similar to fig. 8.2).
As these coffins continued in use, they included features such as the feathered
headdress associated with the Philistines, reflecting new entanglements and
adaptations. The use and presumably manufacture of Egyptian-style amulets,
jewelry, and other decorative objects continued in funerary and settlement
contexts into the Iron Age, reflecting the long-term consequences of Egyptian
interactions and interventions in the region.
Egyptianizing pieces from the large caches of ivories found in a LB con-
text at Megiddo, probably the palace of an Egyptian administrator, and in the
deposits associated with the Iron Age destruction of the Assyrian capital of
Nimrud (c.610 BCE) reflect both the more heavily Egyptianizing Phoenician
and less Egyptianizing Syrian ivory-working industries that came to charac-
terize one of the most creative intercultural media. Most of the pieces came
from inlays and embellishments on furniture, but Egyptianizing cosmetic ves-
sels also appear at a number of Levantine sites, including Egyptian-inspired
ducks with hinged wings as a cover, along with other objects such as mirror
handles with Hathor imagery and gaming sets. Egyptian-style sphinxes and
both Egyptian-and Aegean-style griffons are among the most common motifs.
Anubis and Bes were both represented, and Hathor imagery, often associated
with Egyptian-derived lotiform and palmette motifs, was particularly common.
Another motif from Nimrud borrowed directly from Egypt shows a lion maul-
ing a Nubian prisoner, a theme that also occurs in Nubia itself, but at Nimrud
uncharacteristically on a background of lotuses. Hathor imagery and lotus
motifs have also been found in painted palace decoration, famously in the LB
palace at Nuzi, where cow-eared Bat-Hathor images alternated with bucrania
and palmettes.
Bronze statues of deities continued to be produced with Egyptianizing poses,
in particular seated and striding/smiting. Ba’al and Reshep were commonly
represented in a smiting pose at sites including Ugarit and Byblos (fig. 8.5), but
they often wear a local fringed garment. Egyptian-influenced seated bronze
statues representing the Canaanite chief god El commonly wear an Egyptian
inspired atef crown with uraeus and ram’s horns. The use of horns in the Levant
would also resonate with Mesopotamian divine iconography. The goddess of
147
FIGURE 8.5 Figure of Syrian deity, perhaps Ba’al or Reshef, in bronze with gold and silver overlay.
New Kingdom.
Byblos was syncretized with Hathor, and locally produced stelae represent her
in conventional Egyptian form. The stele of Yehawmilk from Byblos is laid
out with winged sun disk above an image of the goddess, but with the owner
shown in Persian dress. Gold jewelry also adapted Egyptian divine motifs into
a local medium, most commonly in plaques that incorporated Hathor’s iconog-
raphy, but also seen in objects such as a granulated gold falcon pendant and
earring from the LB Uluburun shipwreck (late Eighteenth Dynasty). This kind
of imagery was found as far north as Syria, including sites like Qatna.
Phoenician artisans also produced bronze, silver, and gold bowls that mixed
Egyptian, Near Eastern, and Aegean imagery, commonly including winged
sphinxes, griffons (both Egyptian and Aegean style), and royal imagery. The
148
remarkable silver-gilt bowl of King Akestor from Cyprus (c.725–675 BCE)

deploys various Egyptianizing elements in a Phoenician-style layout, including
sphinxes, lions dominating prisoners, Hathor cow imagery, and the sacrifice of
prisoners by a pharaoh before a falcon-headed god. These were combined with
Mesopotamian (Assyrian) tropes, including goats nibbling at palmettes, a king
slaying a griffon, and a winged deity slaying a lion, but protected by Egyptian
falcons. These remarkable examples of metalwork overlapped iconographically
with the equally remarkable fusion of human, animal, and vegetative themes
borrowed from Egypt, the Near East, and Aegean found on ivories, suggesting
a close connection between the artisans of both media.
The most dramatic direct Aegean influence in Egypt appears in the Minoan-
style paintings decorating a palace built around the reign of Thutmose III at
the former Hyksos capital of Avaris. Stylistically they conform so closely to
Aegean prototypes and techniques that they were surely made by Aegean arti-
sans. The themes most closely resemble those from the queen’s throne room
at Knossos, including bull-leaping scenes and griffons like those flanking the
queen’s throne. Aegean style-paintings have also been found in Levantine pal-
aces, suggesting that artisans circulated widely. As noted above, there have long
been suggestions of mutual influence, in particular that the Egyptian canon
was to some extent applied in early Greek art going back to the Minoans. In
the Iron Age, the striding pose of kouroi (c.615–485 BCE), life-sized mostly male
statues, is most often cited as reflecting Egyptian influence. The stance and pro-
portions of the kouroi do show strong similarities to contemporary Egyptian
statues, striding with left leg forward, pinched waist and wide shoulders, arms
straight to the sides with fists clenched, and gathered hairstyle. The Greek col-
ony of Naukratis was founded during the Saite period (c.650 BCE), and while
the kouroi are clearly the product of Greek artisans, they were likely inspired
by Egyptian art either seen during their own visits or acquired through trade.
Indirect influence through the spread of the International Style led to lasting
Egyptian influence through later Classical art. Ultimately, however, Egypt’s
impact was more profound in Nubia, still strong at Meroe through the fourth
century and at Ballana and Qustul through the sixth century CE.
149
9 }
Traded, Copied, and Kept

THE UBIQUITOUS APPEAL OF SCARABS
Vanessa Boschloos
Prologue
In the early 1990s, a German team discovered in Carthage hundreds of clay

sealings impressed by what probably was a scarab-shaped seal bearing the
throne name of Sheshi/Maaibra. Sheshi was one of the rulers of the Canaanite
dynasty that took over control of the Nile Delta at the end of the Middle
Kingdom and ruled it as Egypt’s Fifteenth Dynasty. The same second-century
BCE context also yielded more than two thousand sealings impressed by seal-
amulets with the throne name of Thutmose III, Menkheperre (mid-Eighteenth
Dynasty) (fig. 9.1). The name of this famous New Kingdom pharaoh appears
on thousands of scarab amulets, dispersed all over the ancient world. It is there-
fore not impossible that the Carthaginians were familiar with the significance
of the name Menkheperre on Egyptian and Egyptianizing seal-amulets, but it
is far less likely they remembered a Hyksos king who had ruled a millennium
before and whose name is known only from scarabs.
Why use seal-amulets hundreds of years old and bearing the names of long-
forgotten kings? Did the owners ignore the meaning of the inscriptions, or did
they have a particular significance? Where did they come from, directly from
Egypt or through intermediaries? Had the scarabs remained in use since their
production period, as heirlooms, or had they been rediscovered in a nearby
past? Were these scarabs present in Carthage or were the sealings impressed
elsewhere? How and when did they arrive in Carthage… ?
Introduction
Generally, scarabs raise more questions than they answer. Small and thus eas-
ily transportable, they bear decorative designs or are inscribed with the names
of great kings of the past, making them desirable collectibles. Since scarabs
149
150
150 { Vanessa Boschloos
FIGURE 9.1 Clay bulla impressed by a scarab bearing the name of Thutmose III, excavated in
Carthage by A. L. Delattre (1850–1932). Digital photograph (above) and four 2D+ models (below)
generated by the Portable Light Dome, from left to right: color sharpen, shaded, radiance scaling, and
sketch mode.
are extremely popular and widely distributed, they are often used as primary
evidence in archaeological and historical studies, in many cases leading to con-
troversial conclusions. A major problem is the lack of securely dated contexts,
necessary for establishing reliable typological sequences, and the fact that they
can be used for long periods of time and for different purposes. This chapter
will address three main issues: distribution, imitation and longevity.
It is not always possible to understand the reasons or the mechanisms
behind the distribution of scarabs, or to reconstruct the routes by which scar-
abs arrived at the site where they were excavated. The available archaeological
information does not even allow determining if the sealings or the scarabs of
Sheshi and Thutmose III found their way to Carthage together or via the same
routes. Given the large numbers found together in the same context, it is not
implausible the original scarabs were present in the city. Scarabs with the name
of Thutmose III and scarabs of Hyksos kings have been found in Carthage and
even farther west, in Spain, distributed along Phoenician, Punic, and Greek
trade routes. Unfortunately, analysis of the clay has not yet been conducted to
15
Traded, Copied, and Kept: Scarabs } 151
determine whether the sealings were made locally or whether they were made
elsewhere and arrived at their destination with the containers they sealed.
It was also suggested that the sealings from Carthage had been made by
local copiers, imitating Egyptian models. A scarab’s non-Egyptian origin can
be indicated by the material, the presence of misrendered hieroglyphs, the use
of foreign iconography, the absence of parallels in the Egyptian repertoire… .
Of course, semi-finished items and raw materials were also exchanged between
regions; people and craftsmen traveled and with them also ideas, know-how, and
imagery, making it sometimes difficult to distinguish copies from their Egyptian
models. Until the 1980s, the great majority of scarab studies focused on chro-
nology, inscriptions, designs, and classification, but an increasing number of
publications contribute to the identification of non- Egyptian types and to
understanding how scarabs and Egyptian iconography were perceived, imitated,
and transformed in other cultures. Our comprehension of Minoan, Canaanite,
Syrian, Phoenician, Israelite, Cypriot, Greek, Sardinian, and Etruscan scarabs
has made significant progress by taking into account technical, material, typo-
logical, stylistic, archaeological, and iconographical considerations. As for the
sealings from Carthage, their compositions have excellent parallels in Egyptian
contexts, suggesting they were made by genuine Egyptian scarabs.
A final note on the Menkheperre sealings from Carthage is that they were
not made by scarabs produced during the reign of Thutmose III, because
parallels for that particular composition are more recent than the Eighteenth
Dynasty. His throne name continued to appear on seal-amulets until the Late
Period. Since no other pharaoh, not even Ramesses II, is named on scarabs
for such a long period and on such a large scale as Thutmose III, it has been
argued that the name Menkheperre was popular because the combination of
the three signs mn, ḫpr, and rꜤ may have been a cryptographic rendering of the
name Amun-Re, or that his scarabs were reissued because he was posthumously
venerated or divinized.
The Egyptian sealings from Carthage are only one of many similar cases
illustrating the problems we are confronted with when interpreting and con-
textualizing scarabs. This chapter aims to give a glimpse into the complex yet
fascinating nature of Egyptian scarabs found outside Egypt and their impact
on other cultures, as they are exported, traded, copied … and kept.
The Omnipresence of Scarabs
As small, easily transportable objects, amulets, seals, and other items of per-
sonal adornment traveled vast distances already in antiquity. Scarabs surface in
excavations from Sudan to central Europe and from the Atlantic coast to Iran.
More Egyptian and Egyptianizing scarabs have been found in the southern
than in the northern Levant, few in Mesopotamia and Anatolia: the greater the
152
distance from Egypt, the less scarabs and other Aegyptiaca are encountered.
This general rule may, however, be too simplistic a view on the matter. Thus far,
southern Mediterranean sites have yielded smaller quantities of scarabs than
sites located on the northern shores: few are known from Morocco and Algeria,
whereas hundreds of scarabs were found in Spain and Portugal. Although the
distance from Egypt and the location on or near important trade routes played
an important role, it is also necessary to take into account local excavation
policy and history. For instance, the large number of scarabs originating from
southern Levantine sites is also partly explained by the fact that controlled
excavations have been undertaken for a longer period of time, more intensively,
and on a much larger scale in Israel than in Syria.
Their wide geographical distribution makes scarabs important sources for
our understanding of ancient cultures, societies, and religions, but especially
for the reconstruction and interpretation of intercultural connections and
exchange networks in the ancient Near East, in Egypt and Sudan, and through-
out the Mediterranean. Egyptian scarabs were exported as trade commodities,
were exchanged as gifts, traveled with their owners, and were further redistrib-
uted through regional networks.
DIPLOMATIC AND GEOPOLITICAL FACTORS
A fragmentary ivory scarab bearing the name of the Kushite pharaoh Taharqa
(Twenty-fifth Dynasty) was discovered in Fort Shalmanasar, a palace in Neo-
Assyrian Kalhu/Nimrud. The palace also yielded thousands of ivory plaques
carved in Phoenician and Syrian styles, which originally had decorated wooden
furniture, boxes, chariots, and horse trappings. Commonly known as the
“Nimrud ivories,” these Levantine ivories arrived in northern Mesopotamia as
diplomatic gifts, tribute, or war booty from the centers along the Mediterranean
coast during the period of the expansion of the Assyrian empire (ninth to sev-
enth centuries BCE). If not with the ivories, the Taharqa scarab may have arrived
in Nimrud directly from Egypt, as a result of Esarhaddon’s and Ashurbanipal’s
wars on Taharqa and the Assyrian invasion of Egypt.
Diplomatic gift exchange, on the other hand, is often considered to have
been the initial incentive for the dispatch to Nubia, the Levant, and the east-
ern Mediterranean of the so-called historical scarabs of Amenhotep III. These
scarabs are much larger than other royal-name scarabs and celebrate particu-
lar events in the king’s reign, such as marriages or successful hunting parties.
Outside Egypt they have turned up in Soleb (Nubia), Sherabit al-Khadim (Sinai),
Palaepaphos (Cyprus), and in the Levant at Lachish, Beth Shemesh, Gezer,
Jaffa, Beth Shean, and Ugarit. These are primarily places under Egyptian con-
trol or in regions strategically important to Egypt for their international rela-
tions, suggesting the large commemorative scarabs were sent out as royal gifts
to Egyptian officials abroad, to vassal kings, or to foreign rulers. Unfortunately,
153
the few provenanced examples hardly come from precisely dated contexts that
are, moreover, generally several centuries younger than the period during which
they were produced. Their distribution map therefore does not allow drawing
historical or socio-political conclusions, and, as regard to historical sources,
the Amarna Letters do not mention this type of object when describing gifts
exchanged between rulers. On a more general note, scarabs bearing royal names
must be treated with caution: due to their content and the possible histori-
cal implications, royal-name scarabs are easily interpreted as historical objects
or as evidence for high-level relations with Egypt, or are used for synchroniz-
ing chronologies. The scarab impression found on a jar handle in a tomb in
Pella (Jordan) was interpreted as referring to the name of a hitherto unknown
Hyksos ruler, suggesting elite-level relations between the Hyksos capital Avaris
and the Jordan Valley, whereas a recent reinterpretation of the engravings indi-
cated it was made by a Second Intermediate Period design scarab.
Compared to Amenhotep III’s large commemorative scarabs, the discovery
of a clay sealing impressed by a scarab bearing the throne name of Amenhotep
IV/Akhenaten (Neferkheperure Waenre) in a refuse deposit in the Bronze
Age palace of Tell Mishrife/Qatna may seem less impressive, but the approxi-
mately mid-fourteenth-century BCE context is contemporary with his reign
and objects bearing his name are extremely rare in the Levant. The contain-
ers sealed by Egyptian and Egyptianizing seals from this refuse may thus have
been sent from Egypt to the Levant as part of a larger group of items, perhaps
in response to the pleas for help Levantine rulers addressed to the pharaoh in
several Amarna Letters. The Egyptian provenance has yet to be confirmed by
analysis of the clay. The containers must have reached Qatna via a city on the
coast (perhaps Sumur, where an Egyptian garrison was stationed) or via an
inland route coming from the southern Levant through the Biqaa Valley (and
its Egyptian administrative center, Kamid al-Loz).
TRADE
If not due to Egyptian presence or diplomatic exchanges, the wide spread

of Egyptian scarabs and other small amulets in Nubia, the Near East, and
Mediterranean is the result of commercial relations. During the second millen-
nium BCE, overland caravans and seaborne routes dispersed Egyptian scarabs
to Levantine and eastern Mediterranean centers, where they would then be fur-
ther distributed along interregional and intraregional networks.
A Middle Kingdom scarab from Middle Bronze Age Tell Mardikh/Ebla
(western Syria) must have reached its destination via a route through the Gap
of Homs, coming from a center on the coast, most probably Byblos, where
about 320 Egyptian Middle Kingdom imports have been found. Scarabs also
travel long distances; for example, Canaanite scarabs traveled east via Syrian
Desert routes to Tell Ashera/Terqa on the Euphrates, and Egyptian Second
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Intermediate Period scarabs (along with a Middle Kingdom scarab amulet)

were found in a sixteenth-to fifteenth-century BCE tomb in Assur.
Sea routes, on the other hand, can only be reconstructed when shipwrecks
and their cargo are discovered. A golden scarab of Queen Nefertiti was found
with glass ingots from Tell el-Amarna, Cypriot copper ingots, Canaanite jars,
and other goods from the Uluburun shipwreck, which sunk off the Turkish
coast around the late fourteenth century BCE on its way to an Aegean desti-
nation. The ship and its crew were probably of Levantine origin, and several
hypotheses have been put forward as how such an exceptional scarab would
have reached the Levant. Scarabs also traveled as merchandise or accompanied
primary trade goods, though this particular scarab may as well have been the
property of one of the sailors or passengers aboard the ship.
A much longer journey was made by an identical pair of ninth-to eighth-
century BCE Phoenician scarabs found in an early seventh-century BCE tomb
in Bisenzio, Etruria. They must have been dispatched together from their
place of origin on the Levantine coast (as part of a pair of earrings?), but it is
not possible to determine whether their final owner had acquired them in the
Levant or after their arrival in Sardinia together with other imports from the
East. During the first millennium BCE, scarabs were distributed throughout
the Mediterranean by Greek (Euboean), Phoenician, and Cypriot merchants.
These networks were already in place at the beginning of the Iron Age; the
earliest imports in Italy are found in late tenth-to ninth-centuries BCE buri-
als in Torre Galli, where pottery assemblages reflect relations with Cyprus or
the Levant. The first large wave of Aegyptiaca traveling west took place in
the eighth to early seventh century BCE; the late seventh century BCE marks the
beginning of a second main phase, characterized by the objects assigned to
a “faience” workshop at Naukratis (discussed below) and distributed widely
along Mediterranean trade routes. The scale of commercial relations with the
east is underscored by the quantities of Aegyptiaca found in central and west-
ern Mediterranean sites. Some scarabs are even found in contemporary con-
texts, for example, in a late eighth-century BCE tomb at Pithekoussai (one of
the oldest Greek installations in Italy, on the island of Ischia), where a scarab
was found bearing the name Wahkare, belonging to the Twenty-fourth Dynasty
ruler Bakenrenef/Bocchoris.
SOCIAL AND CULTURAL SIGNIFICANCE OUTSIDE EGYPT
Scarabs that reached the central and western Mediterranean during the first
millennium BCE are generally considered to have traveled as trade goods,
exotica, or even trinkets with little value. However, in Greece, Italy, and the
central Mediterranean islands scarabs surface in burials and temple deposits,
indicating that these imports were not just low-valued trade commodities and
that the reception culture attributed them with a symbolic meaning. They were
part of popular religion and were given a second life as offerings in sanctuaries
15
(especially in the Aegean), as jewelry, or as protective amulets, particularly for

women and children.
Outside Egypt, scarabs— like all types of seal- amulets— were addition-
ally appreciated for their engraved decorations and were perceived as foreign
objects increasing or reinforcing the social status or prestige of their owner.
Understanding the hieroglyphs or Egyptian motifs was not a prerequisite. It
is important to acknowledge the fact that accessibility of Egyptian or other
imports does not necessarily reflect personal relations with Egyptians. The use
of a foreign seal or amulet can also be a means to distinguish oneself from
peers or may even reflect personal tastes or beliefs. To this day, scarabs bearing
the names of Middle Kingdom Egyptian officials discovered in the Levant are
sometimes still being interpreted as evidence for the presence of these individu-
als in the Levant, but most of these scarabs had been rediscovered or looted
from Middle Kingdom tombs in later periods and then found their way to the
Levant. Similarly, the presence of Egyptian scarabs in Mesopotamia or their
use as sealing devices in Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian archives (e.g., at
Nineveh, Malanate, Nimrud, Assur, Sippar, Babylon, etc.) is not evidence for
the presence of an Egyptian individual or for the owner’s relations with an
Egyptian or Levantine trade network.
The demand for such “exotica” moreover fueled the production of imita-
tions, especially in periods during which Egyptian presence in that region was
reduced and the number of imports decreased dramatically.
Non-Egyptian Scarabs: Adoption and Adaptation of the

Scarab outside Egypt
The presence of non-Egyptian motifs, misrendered signs, or pseudo-hieroglyphs

will hint at the non-Egyptian origin of a scarab, as will their absence on Egyptian
prototypes or Egyptian contemporary scarabs. On the other hand, foreign
ideas or motifs were also introduced into the Egyptian production. It is there-
fore necessary to also take into account the number of examples in a region, the
geo-chronological distribution pattern, and, most importantly, the oldest strati-
graphical context that will establish the first appearance of a type of scarab or
design in a particular region. The use of certain materials in the manufacture
of scarabs may also point to a non-Egyptian origin, unless the raw material was
imported. Current research is therefore increasingly looking at (preferably non-
destructive) fabric analysis to further clarify questions pertaining to origin and
production centers. Analyses by optical microscopy, X-ray fluorescence, X-ray
diffraction, scanning electron microscopy, and Raman spectroscopy determine
materials and techniques used in the production of scarabs, but these have thus
far been applied to individual scarabs or to a handful of samples. Unless con-
ducted on a representative scale, this may lead to biased and erroneous conclu-
sions about materials and production techniques used in a particular group,
156
region, or period. Fabric analysis can, for example, answer questions regarding
the production of Phoenician, Egyptian, Naukratis, and Rhodian scarabs and
other “faience” objects spread throughout the Mediterranean. Scarab research
additionally benefits from recent developments in imaging and (interactive) visu-
alization techniques allowing in-depth visual examination of technical aspects
(engraving techniques, surface characteristics, and workmanship; fig. 9.1, pl. 7).
The following selected cases illustrate how features of Egyptian models are
“adopted” and/or “adapted” outside Egypt. In the former case the local crafts-
man imitates shapes and designs, aiming at replicating or copying the Egyptian
model and strongly referring to it; in the latter the model is used as inspiration
to create something new, adapted to local traditions and assimilated into the
recipient culture.
THE SECOND MILLENNIUM BCE
The earliest copies of Egyptian scarabs appear in Middle Minoan Crete,

shortly after the initial arrival of imported scarabs on the island. Early Middle
Kingdom scarabs may have reached Crete through direct trade relations with
Egypt, dating as far back as the Old Kingdom as indicated by other types of
Egyptian imports in Early Minoan contexts. These Middle Minoan adapta-
tions did not appear suddenly but are part of an evolution within the local
tradition of animal-shaped seal-amulets. Prepalatial and Early Palatial con-
texts yielded scarabs imitating Middle Kingdom scarabs in shape, material, and
technique: they are manufactured in a local stone resembling Egyptian steatite
(though mineralogical analysis still has to be conducted to further identify the
differences) and they were probably also glazed. On the other hand, they differ
in typological features of the back and sides, in the engraving technique, and
in base designs. The scarabs’ devices are local and stylistically related to those
engraved on Middle Minoan I–II Cretan seals.
Whereas Egyptian Middle Kingdom scarabs were also exported to the
Levant and Nubia during this period, they did not engender local imitations—
in the Levant, in any case, not before the seventeenth century BCE, at the end
of the Middle Kingdom. Contrary to Crete, where only a dozen local copies
are attested to date, Egyptian scarabs were imitated on a large scale in Canaan
during the Middle Bronze Age IIB–IIC. This was a direct result of the close
cultural interactions between Canaanites and Egyptians through the interme-
diary of the Canaanite population that had settled in the eastern Delta during
the Middle Kingdom. These Middle Bronze Age Canaanite scarabs—in older
literature referred to as “Hyksos scarabs”—appear in the southern Levant at
the end of the Middle Bronze Age IIA and imitate late Middle Kingdom proto-
types, both in typological features and in designs (fig. 9.2). Their presence is ini-
tially limited to the Levant, but they are exported to Egypt, Crete, inner Syria,
and Mesopotamia from the Fifteenth Dynasty onward. Interestingly, certain
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FIGURE 9.2 Canaanite Middle Bronze Age scarabs excavated by W. M. F. Petrie at Tell el-Yahudiya.
158
Canaanite designs subsequently inspired Egyptian seal-cutters, as shown by the

introduction of Canaanite motifs and compositions on Second Intermediate
Period scarabs. Middle Bronze Age Canaanite scarabs are almost exclusively
design scarabs, except for some rare finds, such as a private-name scarab from a
seventeenth-century BCE occupation level at Sidon naming ḏd-ḳꜢ-rꜤ lord of Iay.
The anthroponym Djedqara is an Egyptian form of a West Semitic name (Sid-
Kâr?), and Iay was probably located in the Lebanese part of the Akkar Plain.
Canaanite scarabs are predominantly cut from the same greyish white steatite
used in the Egyptian production, but Canaanite seal-cutters also used local
stones such as dark-colored serpentinite.
It is not always possible to distinguish Egyptian and non-Egyptian scarabs
when relations with Egypt were very intense and the local material culture was
strongly influenced by the large quantities of Egyptian imports. For the Late
Bronze Age Levant, for example, it was thought until recently that all the scar-
abs found there represent imports because they display designs typical of the
Egyptian repertoire. This picture was nuanced by scarabs from Beth Shean,
a major urban center in the Jordan Valley. As a result of the Egyptian mili-
tary presence and direct administrative control in the Levant during the Late
Bronze Age, a strong increase in the number of Egyptian imports to the Levant
is observed from the mid-Eighteenth Dynasty onward, with a certain decrease
at the end of this dynasty and another peak under the Nineteenth and early
Twentieth Dynasty. Especially at several southern Levantine centers, mixed
Egyptian-Levantine architecture and material culture occurs. At Beth Shean,
an Egyptian garrison was stationed, and the growing demand for Egyptian
“faience” objects encouraged the emergence of local workshops, importing
the raw materials and following the Egyptian recipes and techniques. The
Beth Shean “faience” production is characterized by small artifacts, especially
beads, pendants, and scarabs (fig. 9.3). At present, two local scarab groups have
been identified, one dating to the mid-Eighteenth Dynasty (Thutmose III to
Amenhotep III) mainly from stratum IX, and one from stratum VII showing
Ramesside-inspired designs.
THE FIRST MILLENNIUM BCE
Current scholarship knows little of what happens in scarab production out-

side Egypt between the end of the Bronze Age and the first centuries of the
Iron Age. One of the largest early Iron Age groups is the so-called late or post-
Ramesside mass-produced seal-amulets. This rather heterogeneous group of
steatite scarabs and other stamp seals is attested in Egypt and Palestine in
contexts dating from the eleventh to tenth centuries BCE onward, and indi-
vidual examples are also found in Mesopotamia, Cyprus, Crete, Euboea, and
Ibiza. Their designs strongly refer to Egyptian Ramesside imagery, with a
prevalence of hunting scenes. Their date and origin are much debated issues
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FIGURE 9.3 Faience scarab manufactured at Beth Shean (belonging to the so-called Beth Shean Level
IX Group), bearing the inscription sꜤnḫ jmn or Ꜥnḫ.ś n jmn.
because of the possible implications for early Iron Age chronology in the
(southern) Levant.
In the study of scarabs from the first millennium BCE, research questions
pertain mainly to the scarabs’ possible historical significance and support for
written sources, to the identification of regional groups, to the role they play as
evidence for intercultural relations and the circulation of symbolic ideas, and
to the degree they reflect the impact of Egyptian(izing) culture in other regions
in periods of dwindling Egyptian presence abroad. From the ninth century BCE
onward, scarab production was thriving again in the Levant, Syria, and the
eastern Mediterranean. Seal cutters used the scarab shape in the production of
Syrian, Phoenician, Cypriot, Hebrew, Rhodian, Greek, Etruscan, Persian, and
other stamp seals. The current state of research on some major types presented
below gives an idea of the outstanding issues and the complexity of the wide
range of involved glyptic traditions.
Quite a few Iron Age scarab and scaraboid “groups” are defined principally
on stylistic and iconographical grounds; the stratified finds then allow postula-
tion as to their chronology and origin. This is at present the case for several
stamp seals attributed to ninth-to seventh-centuries BCE Syrian workshops
based on the nature of the designs and the numbers coming from north Syria
(such as the so-called Horse Group, the Yunus Cemetery Group, and others).
Many of these stylistic groups are not limited to the scarab shape and include
other types of stamp seals. Nevertheless, the scarab seems to have witnessed
a revival in Syria during that period. Typological classification is hampered
by the generally stylized features and the increased popularity of the scara-
boid. The same problem arises for scarabs made of poorly preserved soft blue
paste, worn to such a degree that—pending archaeometric analysis—only ico-
nography and distribution maps may hint at their region of provenance. This
160
approach allowed recently the identification of one production center for blue
paste scarabs in the region of Tell Tayinat, in the Amuq Valley, but more work-
shops must have been active given the large numbers and wide distribution of
such scarabs in the Iron Age Levant. The precise origin of many groups there-
fore remains subject to discussion.
Though several Levantine and Cypriot seals display Egyptianizing motifs,
until three decades ago all Egyptianizing scarabs that could not be classified as
proper Egyptian ones were considered to be Phoenician. The early Phoenician
scarab production consists of scarabs in steatite and “faience” and is charac-
terized by horizontal register compositions and a well-defined iconographic
repertoire (the four-winged beetle, sphinx, etc.) strongly referring to both older
and contemporary (Twenty-second Dynasty) Egyptian models. One of these
workshops is likely to have been active in the kingdom of Tyre during the Iron
Age II. Phoenician seals also served as inspiration for Hebrew, Ammonite,
Moabite, and Edomite personal-name scarabs, identified by the script in which
the name of their owner is written. For anepigraphic items, the archaeologi-
cal context (if known) and iconographic elements are used to determine the
scarabs’ origin. Several are cut from hard stones (cornelian, jasper, quartz)
(pl. 7): at least from the eighth century BCE onward, scarabs and scaraboids
in hard stones are produced in the Syro-Phoenician region, and glass scarabs
also appear.
They prelude the production of hard stone scarabs of the Persian Period,
the so-called Classical or Late Phoenician scarabs and Punic scarabs. These
were made of green jasper or a stone mineralogically related to it, and manu-
factured between the sixth and fourth centuries BCE. Even though found in
greater numbers in western compared to eastern Mediterranean sites, there
are no significant iconographical differences between eastern (Phoenician)
and western (Punic) examples. It seems that, at least early in their produc-
tion, workshops were active both in the east and the west. Many provenanced
finds come from Sardinia (especially Tharros, where the first large numbers
were discovered, hence they are also called “Tharros gems”), Ibiza, Carthage,
Sicily, and to a lesser extent from Phoenicia, where most are known from the
antiquities market. They display a different iconographic repertoire than earlier
Phoenician scarabs, with both Egyptianizing Phoenician (e.g., Isis, Bes, figures
with incense burner or sacred tree) and east Greek (e.g., Heracles, sea deities,
warriors) inspiration. Prominent decorative features are a hatched nb basket in
exergue at the bottom and a hatched border surrounding the design. Examples
in a Greek style are sometimes called Greco-Phoenician or Greco-Punic in the
literature.
Another Phoenician group of the Persian Period are scarabs in gemaser-
tem Steatit (fig. 9.4). This homogenous group shows deep and schematically
engraved Phoenician designs and motifs and also looks to contemporary
Egyptian developments: the most current themes are the seated sphinx, the
16
FIGURE 9.4 Phoenician scarab in gemasertem Steatit from Dülük Köyü.
FIGURE 9.5 Dark blue paste scarab of the “Naukratis type” found in the Temple of Aphrodite at
Miletus.
young sun god Horus with winged Isis, Egyptian names beginning with PꜢ-di-
[…], and animals.
Another major player in non-Egyptian scarab production in the first mil-
lennium BCE is the Greek world. Possibly under Levantine incentive, Aegean
“faience” workshops started producing Egyptianizing scarabs in the late eighth
to seventh centuries BCE, imitating Egyptian models. Their coarse material, very
limited repertoire of Egyptian signs and motifs (nfr, nb, ankh, ostrich feather,
and uraeus), and their wide distribution in the Mediterranean—especially in the
Aegean and on the Greek mainland—indicates they were mass-produced and
aimed at the Greek market. Large quantities were found at Perachora (Gulf of
Corinth) and Lindos (Rhodes), and Rhodian factories were likely responsible
for the production of this type of scarabs.
Other mass-produced scarabs under Greek influence are scarabs of the so-
called Naukratis type (seventh to sixth centuries BCE) (fig. 9.5), from the Greek
settlement on the Canopic branch of the Nile. Defining the characteristics of
the objects associated with “faience” workshops at Naukratis is one of the
objectives of the British Museum’s Naukratis Project. Traditionally considered
a Greek settlement or colony, Naukratis was a multicultural site where Late
162
Period Egyptian, Greek, and Phoenician objects and influences circulated and
interacted. About 5 per cent of artifacts excavated at Naukratis represent amu-
lets or amulet molds. The molds, together with the presence of “faience” wast-
ers, point to the local production of amulets, predominantly scarab shaped.
Petrie’s “Scarab Factory” in Naukratis did not just appear at the end of the sev-
enth century BCE but built on an Egyptianizing production that already existed
in the early seventh century BCE. In addition to the popularity of human-head
scaraboids (Black African Heads), the Naukratis scarab production is char-
acterized by the use of “faience” with green, yellow, or light blue glaze on a
yellow-grey to light brown soft paste or in dark blue paste. The designs are
Egyptian, Egyptianizing (Phoenician), Hellenizing, orientalizing Greek, or a
combination thereof. Popular are representations of lions or winged quadru-
peds with heads turned back and a sun disk above.
Later developments move even further away from Egyptian traditions.
Etruscan and Persian scarabs no longer bear Egyptianizing designs. Scarabs
inspired by Greek Late Archaic gems are cut from hard stones (cornelian,
agate) in Etruria between the late sixth and second centuries BCE. They proba-
bly appeared under the influence of Greek imports and immigrant Greek seal-
cutters in central Italy. Etruscan scarabs display mythological figures (e.g.,
Heracles, Achilles) surrounded by a hatched borderline and sometimes accom-
panied by an Etruscan inscription. They differ from Greek and Phoenician
scarabs in the way the base of the scarab is hatched on its sides. Similarly,
Persian scarabs do not refer to Egyptian models; they show Greek and Persian
subjects, and their scarab shape is taken from Greek and Phoenician hard
stone scarabs.
The Longevity of Scarabs: On Archaizing Styles, Heirlooms,

Rediscovered, and Reused Scarabs
During nearly two millennia the scarab was the most frequently used shape in
the production of Egyptian and Egyptianizing stamp seals and amulets in the
ancient Near East and Mediterranean. Owing to their popularity, they also
travel in time. As finely decorated objects, sometimes inscribed with a pharaoh’s
name, they continue to appeal to modern collectors, but this was also the case
in antiquity.
This longevity makes scarabs infamous for precise dating purposes: portable
objects that could easily be kept and transferred to the next generation. The
use of the term “heirloom” is much debated in scarab research because, in the
narrow sense, it only covers the circulation of a scarab for at least one genera-
tion and its transfer to the next generation(s) (living memory). It has therefore
been argued that only valuable items can be heirlooms in younger contexts,
such as scarabs in semi-precious stones or exceptional pieces. Some of the
163
large commemorative scarabs of Amenhotep III found in first millennium BCE

contexts may indeed have been passed on from generation to generation, but
assigning the existence of heirlooms solely to the expensiveness of their mate-
rial, to the content of the inscription they bear, and to their unusual dimensions
or shape does not take into account motives beyond the merely materialistic or
functional, such as the foreign, “exotic” nature of the object, its magical power
or religious meaning, the sentimental values attached to the property of an
ancestor, and so forth. When a minority of somewhat older types is found in an
assemblage of scarabs contemporary with their archaeological context, we are
dealing with heirlooms, especially when their production period is only slightly
older than or partly contemporary with the date of their deposit. A small num-
ber of First Intermediate Period scarabs were found among about one hundred
early Middle Kingdom scarabs in the Montet Jar in Byblos, a cultic deposit
belonging to the Middle Bronze Age phase of the temple of the Ba’alat Gubal.
The presence of heirlooms is not confined to religious contexts. They also occur
in royal/elite and domestic contexts, as the transfer within a family or social
group will have carried value and prestige. Middle Bronze Age Canaanite scar-
abs used to impress Late Bronze Age jar handles and bullae found at Kamid
al-Loz (Lebanon), for example, are likely heirlooms from the preceding period
that remained in use.
The material value of an object or the temporal distance between its produc-
tion period and the period of its deposit does not determine whether or not it
could be considered an heirloom. Some authors therefore prefer to speak more
generally of “survivals,” a term that does not imply deliberate transfer and cov-
ers a wide range of older objects found in younger contexts.
One category is scarabs that were rediscovered—more or less accidentally—
at a certain moment and reused. Tombs could be re-opened for the interment
of other family members or later generations, and such an event provided the
opportunity for scarabs to resurface and to be used for the same purpose or
for one other than their original function. Many inscribed Middle Kingdom
objects found in the Levant were not dispatched during the reign of the pha-
raoh whose name they bear but rather had been looted from Middle Kingdom
tombs in antiquity, probably as early as the Second Intermediate Period. For
example, in one of the Middle Assyrian tombs at Mari (contemporary with
the Ramesside Period and with a date post quem provided by the presence of
a scarab of Sethnakhte, first ruler of the Twentieth Dynasty), the deceased
was buried with six Egyptian scarabs; five of them display designs common
on Ramesside scarabs, whereas one late Middle Kingdom import is about five
or six centuries older. Similarly, whether or not rediscovered fortuitously, the
presence of Bronze Age scarabs in Roman, Byzantine, or medieval contexts
cannot be attributed to their continued use through the centuries; the Sheshi
scarab used for the Carthage sealings was probably also such a rediscovered
scarab.
164
Evidently, throughout its existence, a scarab could have been subject to any
combination of the aforementioned scenarios. Whether deliberately handed
down as ancestral or professional heirlooms or rediscovered, reused scarabs
could receive a different function. This is obvious in the case of the aforemen-
tioned Egyptian personal-name scarabs of the Middle Kingdom, of which the
formulae accompanying the name of the owner indicate they originally served
a funerary purpose, whereas several surfaced in non-funerary contexts both
in Egypt and abroad. Some scarabs were even re-cut and adapted to their new
function or to the personal taste of their new owner. This is demonstrated by
some amethyst scarabs found in Canaan and Minoan Crete, which originally
had been undecorated Egyptian scarab amulets but show traces of secondary
carving on their base: the material and morphology of the scarab are Egyptian,
but the face design is not.
Similar to the continued occurrence of the throne name of Thutmose III
until the Late Period, as discussed above, certain motifs and designs remained
popular or came back in vogue after a lapse of time. The accompanying
motifs, composition, morphology of the scarab and sometimes the style of
engraving allow the dating of a scarab, but the reuse of older imagery and
archaizing styles further complicate things. During the Ramesside Period,
for example, a number of scarabs display designs and features strongly remi-
niscent of Canaanite Middle Bronze Age scarabs. Whether these archaiz-
ing scarabs are to be assigned an Egyptian origin or were produced in the
Levant is still debated among scarab specialists. An archaeological approach
to these issues, cataloging provenanced scarabs from securely dated contexts
to identify the earliest examples, and not limited to their presence in a par-
ticular region, may resolve the question regarding their Egyptian and/or
non-Egyptian origin. More anecdotic are the references to Bronze Age scarabs
observed on several Phoenician scarabs of the ninth to fourth centuries BCE,
named “Neo-” or “Pseudo-Hyksos” in the literature. Typologically and sty-
listically heterogeneous, these Phoenician archaizing scarabs are assigned to
different regional groups or workshops. The prevalence of older imagery
may therefore be an expression of regional cultural identity in a period of
political instability and successive (Assyrian, Egyptian, Babylonian, Persian,
and so on) foreign supremacy over the Levantine coast. A renewed interest in
the past can also express a desire to match or surpass the glorious past or be
a propagandistic means to gain political legitimacy from an association with
that past. This was for example a driving force behind the Saite archaizing
phenomenon, when probably all known scarabs bearing the names of Old
Kingdom pharaohs were manufactured.
165
SECTION IV }
Ideas
16
167
10 }
Technology in Transit
THE BORROWING OF IDEAS IN SCIENCE
AND CRAFTWORK
Ian Shaw
The Theoretical Context
The study of the processes by which different social or ethnic groups of humans
develop distinctive forms of material culture has been a core element of archae-
ology since the early days of the subject. Indeed, at a time when the antiquarian
precursors of archaeologists were beginning to form theories regarding observ-
able evidence for technological change in the past, one of the most important
tenets of the Enlightenment was the view that progress derived essentially from
the use of rational thought to improve the human condition. As archaeology
began to emerge as a discipline in the nineteenth century, most scholars still
primarily viewed cultural change in terms of evolutionary stages from primi-
tive to advanced forms of culture and technology. At this date, however, stud-
ies of technological change were also heavily dominated by diffusionism. Thus
Gustav Oscar Montelius argued that European civilization developed in the
way that it did because innovation tended to occur in certain areas (in his view,
the Near East) and then diffuse outward from these cores toward their periph-
eries (i.e., northern Europe). The idea of “borrowing” of ideas in science and
technology therefore became a persistent—sometimes beneficial and some-
times deeply damaging—theme in the study of ancient cultures, including that
of the Nile Valley.
Diffusion differs from migration in that it does not imply the physical move-
ment (or replacement of) peoples. Together with migration, cultural diffusion
was the favored mechanism of change for many cultural historians writing
about prehistoric peoples before the advent of processual archaeology. This
was particularly true from the later nineteenth century, when ethnologists
such as Friedrich Ratzel began to argue that independent invention of sig-
nificant technological advances was highly unlikely to have happened more
than once, implying that diffusion or migration would have to be disproved
167
168
168 { Ian Shaw
by archaeologists if they wanted to convincingly substantiate the independent

origin or evolution of an (already known) idea in any given region.
It was in this scholarly context that the so- called “hyper- diffusionists”
argued that there must have been a single point of origin for all cultural inno-
vations. W. J. Perry and Grafton Elliot Smith, for instance, promoted the idea
that ancient Egypt was the ultimate source of human civilization. Since then,
archaeological theory has passed through many different phases, from cultural
historical, through functional and processual, to post-processual and beyond,
but disputes concerning the emergence and transfer of different types of tech-
nology remain key areas of discussion. John Ray (1986, pp. 307–8) has argued,
for instance, that:
Egypt’s role was that of perfecter of ideas, rather than an inventor; most
of the innovations in the Ancient Near East come from outside Egypt,
but Egypt, once it adopts a new idea, produces a form of it which is often
more effective than it was in its original home.
What Contribution Did Ancient Egyptians Make to the Emergence

of Scientific Thought?
Before we begin to consider the question of Egyptian technology and inno-

vation (and the degree to which significant developments in material culture
derived wholly or partly from other cultures through the borrowing and dis-
semination of ideas, techniques, and materials), we should consider the extent
to which craft was underpinned by more abstract scientific thoughts. Did such
a thing as ancient Egyptian science exist? If so, where did it come from and to
what extent did it exert influences on the thoughts and practices of other cul-
tural groupings in the three geographical regions within which it was variously
embedded: the Near East, the eastern Mediterranean, and northeast Africa.
The ancient Egyptian language did not include a word that is equivalent
to the modern concept of scientific enquiry, but then it also had no words for
other notions that clearly existed and were practiced, such as art and religion;
therefore a linguistic lacuna is by no means an indication of an actual cultural
gap. On the other hand there seems to be little evidence for individuals who
can be directly identified as practitioners of science in pharaonic Egypt. Early
Greek modes of thought and enquiry seem to have centered on the idea of
individual thinkers, such as Archimedes, Crates, or Pythagoras, each credited
with crucial intellectual, scientific, or technological advances, but such specific
individual “proto-scientists” are not really visible in the monuments or texts of
pharaonic Egypt. It is not that examples of the unusually lauded thinkers were
absent from Egyptian historical sources—such key individuals as Imhotep and
Amenhotep son of Hapu were recognized particularly for architectural and
169
Technological Interconnections } 169
engineering feats during their own lifetimes and long afterwards (eventually
as the subjects of divine cults). However, as Barry Kemp (2006, p. 159) has
pointed out in relation to Imhotep: “he achieved fame as a great official, and
it was as a great official, with the inevitable attribute of being ‘wise’, that he
was remembered. It was the fact of his success that counted, not the means—
architectural genius—by which he acquired it.” In Egypt and the Near East in
the third and second millennia BCE, during the era preceding the emergence of
early Greek science, the emphasis was on crafts and technologies themselves—
the equivalent of the techne of classical Athens—rather than the craftsmen
or thinkers who were responsible for their introduction or development. This
automatically increases the difficulty involved in examining the scientific frame-
work within which Egyptian technology developed.
The best-documented aspects of Egyptian investigation and speculation are
in the areas that would now be described as mathematics, structural engineer-
ing, medicine, and astronomy. However, Egyptian medicine and astronomy
are both particularly intertwined with other areas of culture that would now
be regarded as entirely separate: magic and religion. One of the major diffi-
culties in attempting to explore and analyze currents of scientific and techni-
cal thought in ancient Egypt is their tendency to be deeply embedded within
specific Egyptian cultural and social contexts. The texts, and occasional arti-
facts, that give us some sense of the ancient Egyptian tendency toward abstract
thoughts are also of course specific genres of text, and it can often be difficult
to know the extent to which they can actually be regarded as essentially “scien-
tific,” as opposed to “descriptive” or “anecdotal”—the two latter terms could
easily be applied to many of the texts that are now confidently described as
explicitly mathematical or medical.
The earliest surviving texts presenting mathematical problems and their
solutions date to the Middle Kingdom (e.g., the Mathematical Leather Roll,
BM EA 10250), but earlier depictions of scribes as accountants indicate that
a fairly sophisticated system of mathematics was already in use, primarily for
accounting and architectural purposes, from at least the beginning of the Old
Kingdom. The first known medical texts also date to the Middle Kingdom,
although the titles held by individuals such as the Third Dynasty physician
and dentist Hesira clearly indicate that the practice of Egyptian medicine also
extends back to a much earlier date. As far as the practical contexts and ori-
gins of these texts are concerned, there is a distinct lack of evidence for the
Egyptians’ utilization of methods that might be described in modern terms as
experimentation or analytical research. In fact, many Egyptian textual sources
tend to indicate the reverse: that knowledge was to be found not by experimen-
tation but by the discovery of magical sources such as the so-called Book of
Thoth (usually thought to contain everything that was known about the physi-
cal world, the divine system of laws, magic, and the nature of the afterlife),
which is an important element of such Ptolemaic narrative cycles as the tales
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170 { Ian Shaw
of Neferkaptah and Setne Khaemwas. What we also know little about, particu-
larly for the third millennium BCE, is the degree to which developing scientific
knowledge in Egypt was shaped and affected by ideas emanating from beyond
its borders.
Conservative or Innovative? Writing as a Catalyst for

Technology Transfer
Although it is frequently argued that ancient Egypt was an inherently con-

servative and inflexible civilization, many recent studies of the dynamics of
material culture change in the Nile Valley have demonstrated the Egyptians’
repeated ability to adapt to new modes of production, adopt and develop inno-
vative techniques, and make use of new materials. The apparent rigidity and
permanence of the pharaonic political and social systems from the third to
first millennia BCE should not be glibly and automatically transposed onto the
materials and technologies of these three millennia.
The propensity of ancient Egyptian culture to absorb and assimilate ideas,
people, materials, and artifacts from elsewhere in Africa, the Near East, and the
Mediterranean world can be demonstrated below by a number of case studies
focusing on different technologies and materials. The first of these—the hiero-
glyphic writing system itself—is an appropriate one to begin with because of
the fact that, as well as being a crucial development within Egyptian culture
itself, it was also one of the principal means by which technologies and ideas of
various types were transferred into and out of Egypt, via international scribal
interconnections and diplomacy.
During the emergence of Egyptian civilization in the late fourth millennium
BCE, the emergence of the hieroglyphic writing system was in many ways the
first really distinctive ancient Egyptian technological development, not only
because of its subsequent impact in such crucial areas as bureaucracy, admin-
istration, and social control, but because of its undoubted role, as in many
other early cultures, as a kind of “enabling” technology in itself, providing both
records of intellectual developments and flexible means of communication that
facilitated innovations and technological adaptations.
Writing can also be recognized as one of the most vital stages in the pro-
cess by which Egyptians exchanged ideas with other cultures in western Asia
and the east Mediterranean, particularly at the beginning of the Late Bronze
Age, when technologies and craftsmen were spreading more widely across Asia,
Africa, and Europe. As Moorey (2001, p. 6) points out, language and writing
clearly reflect this process in the lexicography of technology: “The impact of
the technology of one region on that of another is likely to be most vividly
indicated by the technical terms of foreign origin.”
17
Even before language survives in written form, it can be a crucial element

of cultural packages associated with the spread of certain types of material
culture or subsistence. As an example of such pre-literate spread of technology,
archaeologists working on precocious occurrences of pottery at early Holocene
sites in the Nabta Playa-Kiseiba region of southwestern Egypt argue that “the
terminology associated with cattle raising in the northern Sudanic division of
the Nilo-Saharan languages was established before 8500 BCE, perhaps around
the same time that the first pottery-making registered in the lexical data”
(Jórdeczka et al., 2011, p. 112). However, it is only with the emergence of much
more significant quantities of textual evidence in the Late Bronze Age that
texts begin to make a crucial contribution to technology transfer and mobility
of craftworkers in northeast Africa and the eastern Mediterranean.
The international situation within which Egyptian scientific and technologi-
cal ideas developed in the Late Bronze Age and Early Iron Age was character-
ized by the emergence of ever more complex diplomatic contacts between the
royal courts of the ancient Near East. It has frequently been suggested that
royal courts and diplomatic systems in Bronze Age were deeply instrumental
in widespread processes of technological contact and exchange. After all, it
was likely to have been only the royal courts that possessed sufficient resources
in terms of labor, materials, sophisticated artifacts, and workshops that could
operate at an appropriate scale.
The network of international correspondence across the Late Bronze Age
Near East, which primarily used the Akkadian cuneiform script, was clearly
part of a process by which scribes and their physical texts fundamentally facili-
tated links between different elite groupings, including the associated profes-
sional craftsmen. There is increasing evidence for the fact that certain types of
skilled craftsmen, such as doctors and sculptors, were moving between the elite
centers of the Near East and the Aegean. From the Late Bronze Age onward,
there is an increasing amount of archaeological and textual evidence for com-
munities of scribes embedded in foreign courts. More than thirty “scholarly
tablets” that formed part of the Amarna archive of cuneiform tablets provide
particularly good indications that there was a group of “cuneiform scribes”
based in the central city at Amarna in the late Eighteenth Dynasty. The tablets
include such genres as lexical lists, syllabaries, vocabularies, myths, and histori-
cal or literary narratives. The scribes responsible for these texts may perhaps
have been Egyptian scribes trained in cuneiform, but they could perhaps also
have been resident non-Egyptian scribes sent to Amarna by their respective
royal employers. Izre’el has pointed out that several blank, uninscribed clay tab-
lets (now at the Ashmolean and the British Museum) were found at Amarna,
perhaps reinforcing the possibility that an Akkadian-speaking foreign scribal
community was located there, rather than just an archive created by locals.
Several finds from the New Kingdom northern capital at Qantir (Piramesse),
suggest that Bronze Age diplomatic activity and technology transfer across the
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172 { Ian Shaw
Near East and east Mediterranean might have been closely linked. Not only
have stone Hittite-style shield molds been found at Qantir, but the excavations
have also yielded a worked boar’s tusk that may have been part of a cheek-
piece from a Mycenaean-style helmet. In addition, in the area of the city des-
ignated QVII, part of a cuneiform tablet was unearthed, raising the possibility
that a Ramesside diplomatic archive like that at Amarna might have existed
in the vicinity. Even if this tablet turns out to be an isolated find, it hints at
the possibility that the population of Piramesse included not only Hittite or
Mycenaean craftsmen but also perhaps a relatively permanent staff of Near
Eastern “embassy” officials. The finds of shield-molds and tablet are given
intriguing context by EA 22, a letter in the Amarna archive that was sent by
Tushratta, ruler of Mitanni, to Amenhotep III, in which a list of prestigious
items sent as gifts to Egypt includes “one leather shield with urukmannu of
silver weighing ten shekels” (urukmannu being the Hurrian term for the outer
metal parts of a shield).
This kind of technology transfer and cultural adaptability that began to take
place as New Kingdom Egypt became fully integrated into the cosmopolitan
world of the Near East was undoubtedly already much more a part of the
routine of Near Eastern scribes, considering the more heterogeneous nature of
western Asiatic cultures and empires; by the Assyrian period it became common
to see depictions of pairs of scribes, one writing cuneiform script on a tablet or
board and the other writing Aramaic on a sheet of papyrus, and the Aramaic
word sepiru was used in Babylon at this date to refer to bilingual administra-
tors. Intriguingly, there is also some evidence for the adoption of a set of exotic
symbols incorporated into some Assyrian inscriptions dating to the reigns of
Sargon II and Esarhaddon (e.g., British Museum WA 91027: “Lord Aberdeen’s
Black Stone,” from the time of Esarhaddon), which may be an attempt by the
Assyrian scribes and elite to imitate hieroglyphic writing. The reverse scenario
can be observed in the Nineteenth Dynasty London Medical Papyrus, where
six incantations are written in northwest Semitic languages, as well as two invo-
cations that may be some variant of Minoan writing transcribed into a syllabic
form of Egyptian hieroglyphs. It is clear that these non-Egyptian interpolations
were understood by the writer of the London Medical Papyrus and fully incor-
porated into the meaning of the text, not least because it includes Egyptian
sentences in the middle of the Semitic text. The syncretism of Egyptian and
non-Egyptian religious systems is also suggested by the fact that one of the
spells describes the god Amun as rabunna (“our lord”) associated with “my
mother Ishtar.” It has been argued that this papyrus’s fusion of Egyptian and
Asiatic text was perhaps a deliberate prophylactic choice, given that the disease
in question, identified with the Semitic term hemektu (translating as “strangu-
lation”), might have actually been encountered in Asia rather than Egypt and
might therefore have only been considered resolvable through the use of Asiatic
rituals.
173
In the early Iron Age, there were Egyptian scribes resident in the Assyrian
court from the eighth to sixth centuries BCE, as we can tell most vividly via a set
of cuneiform texts from Nimrud listing wine rations from the reign of Adad-
Nirari III to that of Shalmaneser IV (around the turn of the eighth century
BCE), including references to many Egyptian craftworkers as recipients of the
wine, long before Egypt had been conquered by Ashurbanipal. Although it has
been suggested that these Egyptian professionals were prisoners of war cap-
tured during Assyrian campaigns in Syria-Palestine, it seems more likely that
there was some deliberate personal mobility involved, with individual Egyptian
artisans, including scribes, perhaps moving from their original workplaces in
search of better employment abroad. Indeed Zaccagnini has suggested that the
situation in terms of mobility of artisans and professionals may have consti-
tuted a state of transition in the first millennium, with new forms of organiza-
tion and employment of labor emerging in the first millennium BCE, across the
Near East. This certainly seems to be the case very soon after Esarhaddon’s
defeat of Egypt in 671 BCE, given that an Assyrian text dating to some time in
the 660s BCE comprises a list of specialized scholars resident at the Assyrian
court, including astrologers, physicians, exorcists, diviners, and lamenters, who
represent the five traditional branches of Mesopotamian scholarship. These
scholars include three Egyptian scribes and three ḫarṭibe (an Assyrian term for
Egyptian ritual experts of some kind), who appear at the Assyrian court after
Esarhaddon’s conquest of Egypt. On the basis of several surviving lists of this
type, it seems that the Egyptian specialisms that were most appreciated and
exploited in Assyria were dream interpretation and magico-medical expertise.
This well-attested exchange of documents and scribes across the Near East
would surely have not only formed part of the process of technology transfer
in the late second and first millennia BCE, but would presumably also have been
the means by which a great deal of technical knowledge and practices were
communicated and disseminated, i.e., via texts and highly educated scholars
rather than simply by the physical import and export of skilled craftworkers, as
was probably the case in the second millennium BCE.
Innovation in Egyptian Magic and Medicine, and the Role of

the “Exotic”
One of the most important debates concerning ancient Egyptian science and
technology centers on the question of ancient attitudes to innovation and
“progress.” Were ancient Egyptian doctors open to innovation, or were their
methods quintessentially rooted in tradition and previous convention? At least
two of the surviving medical papyri, much like some Book of the Dead papyri,
specifically refer to their venerable status as documents written by much ear-
lier scribes. This is part of the evidence suggesting that magico-medical texts
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174 { Ian Shaw
tended to be evaluated on the basis of their longevity and links with the past,
perhaps ultimately accentuating the sense that spells actually worked by draw-
ing on the primordial magic associated with the deities Heka, Hu, and Sia, the
three aspects of divine magic. Some of the surviving medical texts, such as the
Edwin Smith Papyrus, actually do seem to have been copied from much earlier
antecedents. Despite the survival of only fourteen medical texts from a period
of two thousand years, the whole genre seems to be based on a large number
of lost texts that were much more ancient, or at the very least that was what the
reader was intended to believe.
It can also be argued, however, that Egyptian magico-medical texts, while
stressing links with longstanding traditions, may also sometimes contain evi-
dence suggesting that some kinds of innovation were allowed. For instance,
such phrases as “another book says” suggest deliberate comparisons between
different medical ideas, and some choices being made between a variety of
techniques and spells. Foreign terms and spells might also be deliberately
introduced to improve remedies (e.g., in the London Medical Papyrus). New
medical ideas might have emanated from Assyrian and Persian royal courts,
as in the case of the demotic Crocodilopolis medical book (Papyrus Vienna
6257; second century CE). The latter includes a large number of plant and min-
eral ingredients that are not previously mentioned in earlier medical texts, and
Robert Ritner has suggested that these pharmaceutical developments might
derive from Achaemenid international trade. Similarly, but on a more practical,
visual note, the depiction of surgical instruments in the Roman temple at Kom
Ombo includes some artifacts that are clearly Roman rather than Egyptian
(e.g., scalpels and a sponge). Thus, even within the archaizing and highly tradi-
tional world of Egyptian magic and medicine, there are clear signs that innova-
tion was valued.
Chariots, Composite Bows, and Glass: An Influx of Technologies

in the Early New Kingdom
The tendency in the past has been to discuss the origins of various innovations
in Egyptian technology in the late Second Intermediate Period and early New
Kingdom in terms of contact between different cultural groups resulting in the
transmission of ideas, new materials, craftsmen, and products. Scholars have
therefore focused primarily on issues concerning the dates when materials and
technologies first appeared in Egypt (or at least the earliest survivals in the
archaeological record), as well as their possible origins. The process of innova-
tion, however, is usually considerably more complicated, owing as much to the
socio-economic context as to the emergence of technological “packages.” We
should also bear in mind that technologies do not exist in isolation but can
in themselves directly impact other technologies, or at least affect the social
175
contexts within which other technologies are emerging. This phenomenon is

discussed by Donald Mackenzie and Judy Wajcman in their introductory essay
to The Social Shaping of Technology (1985), when they discuss the tendency for
technology to be shaped not so much by science as by other technology: “exist-
ing technology is more than just a precondition of new technology, but is an
active shaping force in its development” (p. 9). This certainly seems to be the
case with the two case studies discussed below: Late Bronze Age weaponry and
glass production.
CHARIOTS AND COMPOSITE BOWS
The chariot is perhaps the most prominent form of technology that is widely
accepted as an introduction into Egypt from the Near East. The first Egyptian
text to even mention chariotry is on the second Kamose stela, which makes
passing reference to the chariots used by the Hyksos. It is around this time
that the earliest Egyptian examples of spoked wheels occur, in the form of a
small model carriage in the tomb of Ahhotep, mother of King Ahmose (Cairo,
Egyptian Museum, JE 4681). The general dearth of any previous depictions of
wheeled vehicles in Egypt suggests strongly that the chariot was not invented in
Egypt but introduced from the outside world, almost certainly from the Levant.
The chariot was undoubtedly among the most complex artifacts being pro-
duced in the ancient world; therefore the workshops producing chariots must
have been extremely complex in terms of the diversity of materials involved
and the wide range of technological skills required of the individual craftsmen,
such as carpenters, joiners, weavers, and leather-workers. All of the six tombs
containing scenes of chariot production between the reigns of Hatshepsut and
Thutmose IV show these activities as taking place in the workshops of the tem-
ple of Amun at Karnak, perhaps because New Kingdom temples—as regular
recipients of foreign booty and prisoners of war—might have had more ready
access to exotic timber and Asiatic skilled craftsmen.
It can be difficult to determine the extent to which changes and innovations
that occurred in the aftermath of the “Hyksos period” are genuinely linked.
Probably the most significant development in military technology, apart from
chariots, was the appearance of the composite bow. The method of attaching
strips of horn and sinew to a wooden self bow produced a considerably more
elastic weapon that was generally shorter in length but had a much greater range
than its predecessor. If scholars are correct in suggesting that Egyptian chariots
served above all as highly mobile bases from which archers could fire at their
adversaries from a distance, then the adoption of chariots and composite bows
must have been very closely linked. The emergence of the composite bow would
have also fueled a demand for new types of wood, other than the acacia that
had been primarily used for self bows. Although presumably most horn used in
Egypt was derived from African species, there is some evidence to suggest that
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176 { Ian Shaw
the horns of the Cretan wild goat (agrimi) might have been imported for mak-
ing Egyptian composite bows. The introduction of the composite bow clearly
also directly influenced changes in the form of arm guards and quivers. New
types of arm guards were introduced in the early New Kingdom; the depictions
of colored arm guards in tomb paintings seem to indicate that they were tied
at both wrist and elbow. Unlike earlier guards, they cover much of the lower
arm, but no actual examples seem to have survived, perhaps because they were
made of textiles.
As part of this wholesale change in military technology, the typical Middle
Kingdom tubular types of arrow quiver were replaced by tapered, round-
bottomed quivers. In the Egyptian Museum, Cairo, one of a pair of quivers
from the Eighteenth Dynasty tomb of Maiherpri in the Valley of the Kings
(KV36) is extremely well preserved and is decorated with designs in raised relief
(perhaps block-stamped). Another example of a New Kingdom quiver in the
Neues Museum, Berlin, is decorated with openwork appliqués and panels of
superimposed colored strips in red, white, green, and black. The new style and
high quality of these quivers were almost certainly the result of significant
change in the status of bowman, as well as the practical need for both archers
and their equipment to be incorporated into the design of the chariot. The
arrow and javelin quivers were attached to the side panel of the chariot in such
a way and at such a precise angle that the charioteer could easily remove an
arrow or javelin from the quivers when needed.
GLASS: EGYPTIAN, NEAR EASTERN, OR BOTH?
The other major technological introduction that appears to have taken place at
around the time of the adoption of such military items as chariots and compos-
ite bows was glass. Generally speaking, the first significant glass items appear-
ing in Egypt, in the early Eighteenth Dynasty, show all the signs of deriving
from technology introduced from the Near East. There is considerable agree-
ment on what constitutes ancient glass, which is based on a soda-lime compo-
sition with minor concentrations of potash and magnesia. The major debates
in ancient Egyptian glassworking therefore tend to focus on the definition of
production processes, and when it is that Egyptians can be said to be produc-
ing glass from the basic raw materials, as opposed to melting and re-working
imported cullet or ingots of glass. On the one hand, scientists such as Roy
Newton (1980, p. 176) argue that:
the Egyptians could only melt other people’s glass even though they
could fabricate the most exquisite items from it … the Egyptian court
depended for their basic raw material, or for an essential ingredient
thereof, on imports from Asia.
17
On the other hand, there is the undeniable fact that Egypt has a long history of
production of two other important vitreous products: faience and frit. In the
context of early Egypt, the best-known form of frit is “Egyptian blue,” which
is both similar to glass and also a material apparently first produced by the
Egyptians. This evidence for Egypt’s long experience of production and experi-
mentation with two other kinds of vitreous product might thus be taken to
argue that they had the capability to develop early glass roughly simultaneously
with other Late Bronze Age cultures in the Near East, such as the kingdom of
Mitanni, or that, at the very least, they were capable of quickly assimilating
and adapting to this new technology, on the basis that they had been producing
similar substances since the Predynastic period.
So what do the archaeological data suggest? The first glass artifacts in Egypt
initially appear as exotic products primarily in elite funerary assemblages, such
as the tomb of Thutmose I and the tomb of the foreign wives of Thutmose III
in Wadi Qubbanet el-Qirud at Thebes, in the early Eighteenth Dynasty. It is
argued that the sheer technical accomplishment of these earliest examples of
glass in Egypt makes it likely that the technology must have been introduced
from outside rather than being the result of a long-term evolution of technol-
ogy. A few New Kingdom archaeological sites (Amarna, Qantir, and perhaps
Malkata) incorporate the remains of areas of production and debris relating
to glass working and/or glass making. At Amarna, the late nineteenth-century
discoveries of glass manufacture by Flinders Petrie eventually led to excavations
conducted by Paul Nicholson in the 1990s, focusing on site O45.1, where the
presence of kilns, glass ingot molds, and traces of fritted glass suggest that glass
may have been produced from raw materials. In addition, the shipwreck exca-
vated at Uluburun included 100 kg of cobalt blue glass ingots, and ingot molds
excavated by Petrie at Amarna correspond closely to the shape and dimensions
of the Uluburun ingots. At Qantir (Piramesse), Edgar Pusch’s excavations have
revealed melting crucibles and frits, specifically connected with red glass, but
not yet any kilns or signs of glass working.
As for linguistic and visual evidence, the frequent use of two foreign words
for glass (the Hurrian term ehlipakku and the Akkadian term mekku), along-
side some homegrown terms, tends to suggest strongly that New Kingdom glass
was a foreign import rather than an indigenous invention. The same general
scenario is suggested by the listing and depiction of glass items on the walls of
Karnak temple as booty in Thutmose III’s Annals concerning his Near Eastern
military exploits. Glass vessels imported from western Asia are also shown in
the tombs of early Eighteenth Dynasty high officials Rekhmire and Kenamun
in western Thebes. Finally in the late Eighteenth Dynasty, seven of the Amarna
Letters (EA 25, 148, 235, 314, 323, 327, and 331) mention glass as an import,
although one (EA 14) lists it among gifts sent by the Egyptian king to the king
of Babylon.
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178 { Ian Shaw
The chemical analysis of samples of glass deriving from sites across the east-
ern Mediterranean and Near East suggests that there were three basic forms of
glass being produced in the mid-to late second millennium BCE: (1) a light-blue/
turquoise form that was made in Mesopotamia from a plant-ash alkali and
copper colorant, and (2) a dark-blue plant-ash alkali glass, with higher quan-
tities of copper, giving it a color resembling lapis lazuli, and (3) a dark-blue
cobalt-natron glass made in Egypt. Nicholson and Henderson (2000, p. 220)
point out that there is some variety in the composition of Egyptian glasses of
different periods:
although from an early period Egyptian glass displays signs of being
a conservative technology … , and to some extent this is also true of
Amarna glass, there is nevertheless some compositional variation, with
some relatively high alumina levels occurring in translucent non-cobalt
glasses as early as the reign of Thutmose III.
Although it is clear that glass was deliberately manufactured in the Near

East from at least as early as the sixteenth century BCE, no Mesopotamian or
Egyptian evidence has yet been found for the fritting of glass from primary
raw materials in the second millennium BCE. It is still the case that the earli-
est known glass has been found in Mesopotamia, but it is not yet possible to
discount the possibility that it was also fused from primary raw materials in
Egypt (albeit possibly at a later date). It has been suggested that the emergence
of glass production in the Near East (and perhaps also in Egypt) by the mid-
second millennium might have related to new Late Bronze Age economics and
working practices, i.e., the emergence of large-scale craft production controlled
by royal courts and temples. This theory is perhaps reinforced by the evidence
found at Qantir suggesting a close link between glassworking and copper-
working areas. Ultimately it is possible that a solution lies in chemical analysis
primarily—newly available analytical methods such as laser ablation ICP-MS
may well help to clarify the situation further, with regard to the chemical com-
positions and origins of Egyptian, Near Eastern, and Aegaean glass artifacts.
Conclusions and Discussion
Many significant developments in Egyptian technology seem to have emerged

directly from migrations of people (whether spontaneous or forced), the
exchange of ideas between different ethnic and cultural groups, and major pro-
cesses of social change brought on by large-scale environmental and political
influences. These kinds of innovations in craftwork can be seen to have had
important impacts on the social and political contacts between Egypt and the
Levant, and between Egypt and the rest of northeastern Africa. The chronol-
ogy of all this, however, suggests that the turning point for the Egyptians was
179
probably the expulsion of the Hyksos, who may have represented a significant
barrier between the Egyptians and access to more sophisticated weaponry such
as chariots, composite bows, and body armor, as well as other, non-military
materials and crafts.
Certainly it was only in the early Eighteenth Dynasty that the Egyptians were
able to gain access both to some of the necessary imported materials and prob-
ably also, initially at least, foreign craftsmen, so that they could begin to pro-
duce and/or fashion new materials, and produce new kinds of artifacts. Many
of the materials needed for chariot manufacture (such as acacia-wood, copper
alloy, bone, stone, faience, and rawhide) and much of the technological abil-
ity (such as steam-bending, lathe-turning, and drilling) had already been avail-
able for some time within Egypt itself, but the crucial changes were the social
and political ones, whereby Egyptians gained ready access to the resources of
western Asia. Once they were able to import materials and artifacts (such as
captured chariots or glass ingots) and craftsmen they could begin to develop
their own versions of the technology. This happened primarily through war,
trade, and diplomacy.
How then does the knowledge economy of materials and artifacts in use
across the Near East and east Mediterranean appear in Egyptian iconography
and texts? Do the images, texts, and artifacts overlap and/or correspond with
one another? How are commodities (e.g., weapons), ideas, and people (e.g.,
mercenaries and prisoners of war) moving around the east Mediterranean in
the Late Bronze Age? What do we know from Anatolian sources; what do we
glean from Egyptian texts and images; and how well do these two bodies of
source material correlate? All of these questions will still require more research,
and particularly more analysis of individual artifacts, in the future. One crucial
concept, however, that already seems to have emerged in relation to technology
transfer in the east Mediterranean and Near Eastern is “convergence”—the
technologies for stone vessel making, for instance, were gradually becoming rel-
atively homogeneous throughout the region during the Bronze Age. Research
into vitreous materials in the Eastern Mediterranean also suggests that there
was an extremely complex conjunction of materials and techniques in this area
of technology:
the main body of Aegean Bronze Age faience, as well as Egyptian blue
frit and glass fits into the general Aegean iconography and is thus con-
sidered as a characteristic Aegean product. There are, however, technical,
compositional and even stylistic similarities with both the Near East and
Egypt. (Panagiotaki et al. 2004, p. 150)
There are numerous mechanisms by which war, trade, migration and

other forms of cultural contact directly affect technology. But to what degree
do these social and economic processes actually promote (or even discour-
age) innovation? Joel Mokyr (1990, p. 183) raises the question of cause and
180
180 { Ian Shaw
effect: “Whether in fact innovations in military technology provided substan-

tial benefits in the production of peacetime goods and services so that war can
be thought of as an agent of technical progress is far from easy to determine.”
In the context of the development of Late Bronze Age east Mediterranean and
Near Eastern technology, there is no doubt that, as in other places and times,
the web of social, economic, and technological factors is highly complex, but
worth our while to disentangle.
18
11 }
The Flow of Words

INTERACTION IN WRITING AND LITERATURE DURING
THE BRONZE AGE
182
183
I }
Writing Systems
CUNEIFORM AND HIEROGLYPHS IN THE BRONZE AGE—
SCRIPT CONTACT AND THE CREATION OF NEW SCRIPTS
Orly Goldwasser
From Mesopotamia to Egypt? The Invention of Writing in the Late

Fourth Millennium
It is difficult to determine if the invention of script systems in the ancient Near

East occurred independently in both Egypt and Mesopotamia or if it is rather a
case of cultural interference—borrowing or influence. It is reasonable to recon-
struct it as a case of adoption of a new cultural “option”—in this case the
option of transforming spoken utterances into material signs. Based on the
evidence at hand, it seems most likely that writing was born in Mesopotamia,
through a long process, and then very early in this script’s history, it inspired the
production of an independent writing system in Egypt.
The Mesopotamian Proto- literate Period was a time of lively contact
between Egypt and Mesopotamia, as can be seen from various archaeological
finds, as well as the shared architectural and artistic motifs of the era. During
this period, Egyptians and users of the Proto-cuneiform script may have come
into contact, whether in Egypt or Mesopotamia. The next step would have
been the domestication of the idea of “writing” to serve the specific needs of
the nascent Egyptian state and its language, and this endeavor appears to have
been independent of Mesopotamian influence. The two writing systems share
several semiotic attributes that support this reconstruction. Both started as pic-
torial systems, both use logograms and at a later stage phonograms, and both
feature classifiers (determinatives). Yet the classifiers (signs carrying no pho-
netic information, only semantic information about the word) generally appear
in cuneiform writing before the word, whereas in Egyptian they always appear
at the end of the word.
Some early Egyptian hieroglyphs clearly have their roots in the Mesopotamian
sphere. A good example is the important serekh hieroglyph. This symbol of a
183
184
184 { Orly Goldwasser
royal building façade was the essential signature of the earliest royal names in
Egypt, and a very similar icon was common on Mesopotamian cylinder seals
from this period (fig. 11.1).
It seems that the “flow of signs” towards the end of the fourth millennium
was influenced not only by the existence of the challenging “option” presented
by Proto-cuneiform script but also, at least partially, by the system of symbols
operating on Mesopotamian cylinder seals and other finds of the period that
were available in Egypt.
The Egyptian and Mesopotamian script systems also reveal in their early
stage the primary condition that sharply marks script from pictorial represen-
tation. In a script system, all referents are represented on the same scale, what-
ever their relative sizes in the real world. This procedure instructs the mind of
the potential reader to see the given pictures as something else, viz., script. This
feature is clearly present in both Egyptian and Mesopotamian materials from
the earliest extant examples (fig. 11.2).
FIGURE 11.1 Left: An early Egyptian serekh of an unknown king, possibly *Horus N.j-N.jt, incised on a
jar from Helwan. Right: A Proto-literate seal from Sin Temple, Khafajah (Mesopotamia).
FIGURE 11.2 Examples of early writing. Left: An early Sumerian clay tablet. The bull’s head and the
other signs are of the same size. Right: Proto-dynastic Egyptian bone tag from tomb U-J at Abydos. The
mountain ridge and the snake are of the same size.
185
Writing Systems: Cuneiform and Hieroglyphs } 185
Egyptian Hieroglyphs
Hieroglyphs were used mainly in monumental writing—on stelae, the walls of

temples and tombs, and the surfaces of various hard objects (pl. 8), includ-
ing cylinder seals and scarabs. The miniature iconic signs reflected the universe
coded by Egyptian eyes. All hieroglyphs obey the strict representation rules of
Egyptian art and many are indelibly imbued with an “Egyptian quality.” These
include hieroglyphs such as “king,” “god,” and “man,” all of which unques-
tionably reflect Egyptian pictorial prototypes. In this way, hieroglyphs are not
“free markers” of words but are strongly intertwined with the Egyptian cultural
sphere.
Naturally, the highly pictorial nature of hieroglyphs was a burden on every-
day production of texts. The Egyptians therefore developed very early on vari-
ous cursive variations of the hieroglyphs for administrative writing and later for
literature. The most abstract cursive script—dubbed “hieratic” by the Greeks—
was used mainly for writing on papyri and ostraca (pl. 8). The level of iconicity
in hieratic and other variations of cursive Egyptian scripts was greatly reduced.
Throughout its history, the Egyptian script was used only to transmit
the Egyptian language itself and never to systematically represent any other
language.
Cuneiform
In sharp contrast to Egyptian hieroglyphs, the cuneiform script lost its iconic-
ity very early in its history, probably due to the technical limitations of writing
on clay tablets. Cuneiform signs are thus “free markers” and do not refer to
or iconically evoke visual referents of early Mesopotamian culture (fig. 11.3).
Cuneiform almost always functioned strictly as an instrument for conveying
linguistic messages.
The cuneiform script was invented and developed by the early Mesopota
mians settlers, probably Sumerians, to transcribe their own non-Semitic lan-
guage. Yet, being a system of non-iconic, wedge-like signs, the cuneiform script
enjoyed great success on the cultural market. Once the signs were endowed
with logographic and phonetic readings, their low iconicity made them an
ideal tool for borrowing. The first languages we can identify as using the
cuneiform script are Sumerian and Akkadian during the mid-third millennium.
Another important Semitic language, as Akkadian, that used cuneiform in the
midst of the third millennium is Eblaite, recorded on thousands of clay tablets
found in the palace of Ebla.
The adaptation of cuneiform for different Semitic languages and dialects
continued during the second millennium (Mari, Canaan). In addition, an
186
FIGURE 11.3 The reduction of iconicity: the cuneiform script.
important transmission of the script to non-Semitic languages occurred in the

midst of the second millennium, when the Hittites used cuneiform to record
not only (Indo-European) Hittite texts, but also additional non-Semitic lan-
guages, such as Hurrian.
Hieroglyphs in the Levant—“Travelling Symbols”
The quality of “high iconicity,” which was rigorously developed and main-
tained by the Egyptians (e.g., pl. 8), made it possible for a selected group of
hieroglyphs to become “travelling symbols” and active agents of the Egyptian
187
culture in the Levant and beyond. Wherever they travelled, they carried along
with them a strong additional prestige value—“Egyptian.”
The iconic nature of Egyptian, which facilitated the conveying of abstract
concepts in a single, very specific, and pictorially recognized icon, made Egyptian
script an attractive source of symbols. Moreover, this iconicity enabled hiero-
glyphs to “return to the icon” and become active players in various pictorial
scenes.
The most widely distributed hieroglyph to appear in the Levant is the ankh
“life” sign. It lent itself during the seventeenth century BCE to be loaned as a
written symbol, probably carrying with it its semantic meaning—“life”—if not
its Egyptian phonological content (fig. 11.4).
Parallel to its straightforward use as written signifier for the meaning “life,”
and due to its specific pictorial qualities, e.g., “being held” or “being given,”
the ankh hieroglyph appears in various pictorial scenes throughout the ancient
Levant, mostly when a god is represented as “giving life,” i.e., handing the icon
to the king. In Egypt, this type of scene is well attested from the earliest peri-
ods, and it is found on a wide variety of media.
In their Levantine incarnations, hieroglyphs, mainly on seals, may take a
non-Egyptian form or may be inscribed in the “wrong” position (fig. 11.4).
Besides the ankh, “hieroglyphic koine” on Levantine seals of the Middle Bronze
Age includes a few additional signs that carry positive abstract meanings, such
as “dominion” or “stability.” They appear in the Levant alongside images
of gods (local or Egyptianized), together with many other Egyptian symbols,
such as the winged sun, imitations of Egyptian cartouches, or scenes reflecting
Egyptian royal attitudes.
A larger repertoire of hieroglyphs makes it appearance mainly on scar-
abs in Canaan during the Second Intermediate Period, when Canaanites,
later known as Hyksos, settled in the eastern Delta and came to rule Egypt.
Canaanite versions of various hieroglyphs imitating Egyptian hieroglyphs
FIGURE 11.4 Left: Old Syrian Dynastic seals depicting king receiving ankh from goddess or
god. Right: Syrian seal depicting Canaanite goddesses holding an ankh sign in the wrong way,
upside-down.
18
appear on scarabs that were produced locally in Canaan. This larger rep-
ertoire of hieroglyphs comes into use together with a strong presence of
Egyptianized gods, crowns, and other Egyptian symbols. Again, it is difficult
to determine if the Canaanite addressee regarded these gods and symbols as
Egyptian or “translated” them into his own pantheon. Royal cartouches, cor-
rectly or incorrectly written, are also widespread. In this case too, it is difficult
to assess which hieroglyphs were carriers of names, and which were activated
only as Neferzeichen.
Another widely popular Canaanite variation that appears on scarabs dur-
ing this period was a repetitive group of flat hieroglyphs (known as anra in the
literature) that makes no sense in Egyptian. This group repeats itself again
and again on many Canaanite scarabs and in many variations. It is hard to
say if these are only gibberish imitations of “hieroglyphs” that were somehow
standardized or if they are a combination of Egyptian hieroglyphs that were
given some new local meaning through “Canaanite reading.” For instance,
signs may have been read iconically, i.e., as “water,” “giving gift,”
“offering”, and so forth—not referring to the original Egyptian reading
of the signs.
More than “Travelling Symbols”—Hieroglyphs as Catalysts for the

Invention of New Scripts
CRETAN AND ANATOLIAN HIEROGLYPHS
During the second millennium, at least two scripts were born probably due
to some influence of Egyptian hieroglyphs. The first is a Cretan pictographic
script, and the second is Anatolian hieroglyphic. (fig. 11.5).
FIGURE 11.5 Left: The Phaistos Disk, a unique find showing highly iconic Cretan hieroglyphs. All
hieroglyphs are in the same direction and of the same scale. Right: Anatolian hieroglyphs from
Karkemish.
189
The two new scripts exhibit again the basic semiotic rules that transform
a collection of pictures into a script system. Both are made up of a con-
sistent repertoire of hundreds of signs. The signs, as a rule, do not relate
to or “touch” each other to create meaning. All pictures undergo scaling to
fit a single grid, for example—a human head is of the same size of a full
human representation. Like in the Egyptian hieroglyphic system, there is no
strict rule for a single direction of writing, but all signs maintain the same
direction on a single line. However, Anatolian hieroglyphs are always written
in boustrophedon. The large number of signs points immediately to a com-
plex logographic-syllabic writing system, such as the hieroglyphic system or
cuneiform.
The inventors of these new scripts completely domesticated the idea of pic-
torial writing into their own respective cultures and languages. The new scripts
did not borrow Egyptian hieroglyphs, but rather each inventor created a whole
new culture-specific repertoire of “pictorial signifiers,” reflecting their own
selected referents in the world, and their own forms of representation.
The Cretan pictorial script was born sometime in the first half of the second
millennium BCE. It was short lived and is attested only in central and northeast-
ern Crete. It has no known offspring. The texts are not yet fully deciphered.
Anatolian hieroglyphs, on the other hand, were a much more widespread
phenomenon. The inscriptions written in the new pictorial script have been
securely deciphered and their language safely identified today as Luwian.
Appearing on the stage of history later than the Cretan script, it is not impos-
sible that the Cretan script served as an influence. The inner semiotic structure
of the Anatolian hieroglyphs must have been influenced by the cuneiform sys-
tem. Besides various phonological matters, the script makes use of classifiers
(determinatives) that appear regularly before the word but rarely also after the
word, as in Sumerian and Akkadian. In Egyptian, the classifiers appear always
at the end of the word, as noted above.
Anatolian hieroglyphs, like Egyptian hieroglyphs, according to the material
that survived, were used mainly for public display and many are inscribed on
seals of officials in the Hittite empire in Anatolia as well as in Syria. Through
their iconicity they could function as an instrument for enhancing local images.
At the very same time, the Hittite rulers used a parallel writing system made
up of borrowed Mesopotamian cuneiform signs to record texts in Hittite and
other languages. This Hittite cuneiform script was used for writing all admin-
istrative matters as well as myths, annals, and treaties. However, its non-iconic
character, and the fact that it was used by many other peoples in the Levant,
could not allow it to function as a marker of national identity. The unique pic-
torial Anatolian hieroglyphic script, on the other hand, constantly enhanced
chosen visual referents of the Hittite culture and state, which were repeatedly
activated by the script as agents of “Hittite identity.”
190
EGYPTIAN HIEROGLYPHS AS CATALYSTS FOR THE INVENTION

OF THE ALPHABET
The high iconicity of the hieroglyphic script again played a key role on the stage
of intellectual history at another crossroad of Egyptian and Levantine cultures.
This meeting, and the interference process initiated by it, led to the creation of
one of the most influential and long-lasting inventions in the history of western
civilization.
Egyptian hieroglyphs served as both catalyst and raw material for the
Canaanite invention of the alphabet. This ancient script developed into the
Hebrew, Arabic, Greek, and Latin scripts. Of all ancient Near Eastern scripts,
the alphabet met with the greatest success on the cultural market of civilization.
Unlike the case of the Minoan and Anatolian scripts, the invention of the
alphabet was not born in the environment of erudite scribes, but was apparently
created as a non-institutional cultural product by illiterate Canaanite miners.
Though they were experts in their professional field of mining, the inventors
of the alphabet were far removed from the circles of professional writing in
cuneiform and Egyptian. It is precisely this naïveté that allowed them to invent
something completely new, as they were unencumbered by the scripts of their
day. They were able to think outside the box, inventing a novel writing system—
an alphabetic script made of fewer than thirty signs.
In Serabit el- Khadem in Sinai, during the second part of the Twelfth
Dynasty, large Egyptian expeditions were engaged by the order of the kings
to deliver turquoise from the mines in the area. The expeditions included hun-
dreds of Egyptians, comprising scribes, treasurers, administrators, and various
other officials. The expeditions were also charged to build a large temple to
the goddess Hathor, the goddess of turquoise, on the plateau near the mines,
thus securing the success of the mining efforts. Hundreds of official and pri-
vate inscriptions dating to the Middle Kingdom were found on the site of the
temple. In the meantime, groups of Canaanite expert miners were probably
engaged in the mining efforts themselves in the mines around the temple. These
Canaanites were surrounded by numerous Egyptian inscriptions, all made of
the little pictorial hieroglyphs.
Like the inventors of the Cretan and Anatolian hieroglyphs, the Canaanites
borrowed the Egyptian idea of turning pictures into script. Yet, not being pro-
fessional scribes and not working in the service of any official ideology or insti-
tution, they did not bother to invent a whole set of new icons. They adopted
roughly two dozen icons from the hieroglyphs around them—those that they
found useful for their own purposes—and added a few new signs of their own.
Like the Hittites and the Cretans, the inventors of the alphabet adopted the
rule of scaling used in the Egyptian hieroglyphic system. All new alphabetic
signs were written in more or less the same scale in the corpus of inscriptions
(around thirty) known from Sinai (fig. 11.6).
19
FIGURE 11.6 Left: The development of Hebrew, Greek, and Latin letters from the Proto-Sinaitic letters.
Right: A Proto-Sinaitic inscription from Serabit el-Khadim, Sinai. The inscription is to be read in the
“wrong” direction according to Egyptian reading rules.
It seems that the inventors wished to write their names and short prayers to
their gods in their own language and in their own way. Their inscriptions are
identified today as written in a Semitic dialect. They refer to the Egyptian god-
dess Hathor by the name of a Canaanite goddess that was probably identified
with her—Ba’alat.
Due to their illiteracy, the Canaanite inventors made use of the hieroglyphs
only as a source for pictorial models, to which they gave their own pictorial
interpretation, and a name in their Canaanite dialect. Their readings may coin-
cide with the original iconic meaning of the sign in the Egyptian system (such
as the cases of the hieroglyphs “water”, “eye,” or “head”), but in
other cases they gave the hieroglyphs their own idiosyncratic Canaanite read-
ings (as in the case of “house,” below). Not familiar with the Egyptian script
system, they were free to think anew and were not bound by the complex semi-
otic use of icons in the source hieroglyphic script system—i.e., logograms (with
their redundant “phonetic complements”), phonograms, and classifiers.
The illiteracy hypothesis explains why some letters clearly diverge from the
Egyptian prototypes. To take but one example, the Proto-Sinaitic exemplars
of the letter bet (‫ )ב‬that should represent a “house” (‫)בית‬, are conceived from a
naïve reading of different pictorial icons, none of which are the correct hiero-
glyph for “house” in the Egyptian source system. The hieroglyph was prob-
ably used primarily as a model for the “house” letter in the early alphabet in
Sinai, e.g., . In the hieroglyphic script system, the original pictorial referent
of is a stool, and it is used in the Egyptian system mainly as the phonogram
/p/, which has nothing to do with a house. At the same time, other hieroglyphs
and even real-world models were probably involved in the invention of the
192
letter bet, as different versions of the letter—as and (house with an

entrance) clearly demonstrate. Such representations of houses are not known in
the hieroglyphic record, including the cursive and hieratic variants. Moreover,
never was the correct and very common Egyptian “house” hieroglyph used
by the Canaanite inventors.
Another type of letter exists in the new Canaanite system—a direct borrow-
ing from concrete referents in the world, and not from the hieroglyphic script.
Such is the letter kap = “open palm.” Here no pictorial model in available in
the hieroglyphic script, and the letter came directly into the script, most prob-
ably without the intervention of Egyptian hieroglyphs.
From this point on, the alphabet’s creator(s) began to progress alone. They
chose to apply only a single reading rule. Here the idea of taking out only the
first “sound” of every picture came into play—a process that is known today in
linguistic jargon as “acrophony.” Every picture in the new script stood only for
the “first sound” of the picture, read in their own language. The small pictures
of bull, eye, water, hand, palm, house, monkey, head, etc., were well known
to the inventors and were easily identified. Every icon of the newly invented
Canaanite script stood for a single sound, a single consonant. Here iconicity
served only as the first step—a reminder of the name of the letter. From this
name only the first sound should be kept, the meaning of the icon should be
discarded. In this way, free individual letters were born, i.e. pictorial signifiers
that refer directly to sounds alone (fig. 11.6).
During the Late Bronze Age, the alphabet— being a non- institutional
invention not backed by scribes or schools—traveled in non-literate circles in
Canaan and Egypt (e.g. Wadi el-Hol). It was maintained and likely dissemi-
nated by Canaanite professionals on the move, such as soldiers or miners. An
early linearization process that should be dated to circa the thirteenth century
BCE in Canaan may have resulted from interference processes of such carriers
with Egyptian scribes residing in this period in southern Canaan. This linear
version of the early iconic alphabet invented in Sinai would develop in the Iron
Age to become the national script of the various new identities in Canaan and
the Levant—the Hebrews, Moabites, Phoenicians, Arameans, and others.
THE UGARITIC ALPHABET—T HE INDIRECT LINK

BETWEEN CUNEIFORM AND HIEROGLYPHS
It seems that sometime during the thirteenth century BCE, the sophisticated
scribes of Ugarit on the northern coast of Lebanon came into touch with car-
riers of the Canaanite alphabet, which had been invented a few centuries earlier
in Sinai. It is difficult to assess if they encountered the script in some early
iconic version or in its more linear variations that may have already existed in
southern Canaan.
193
As speakers of a Semitic language, they would have immediately recog-

nized the genius of the invention. Yet the letters themselves must have looked
too unstable and non-standardized to them, perhaps even as a bad imitation
of Egyptian hieroglyphs. They therefore “converted” them into what they
doubtless regarded as their better, professional cuneiform sign system. They
invented thirty new cuneiform signs—each referring to a single sound. The
signs may however be based on the alphabetic sign forms, although because
incised in clay they look different. From the similar names that they gave to
the letters in their new system, it is very clear that they mastered the earlier
pictographic alphabet and its acrophonic principle. To the letters that they
adopted from the Proto-Sinaitic or Proto-Canaanite script, they added three
letters of their own, of which two functioned as a sort of proto-vowel let-
ter. It is to this script that we owe some of the greatest works of Canaanite
literature known today.
Yet the success of the new cuneiform alphabet was only partial. It indeed
spread into Canaan, but being a typical institutional product, it came to an end
when Ugarit was destroyed around the beginning of the twelfth century BCE.
The destruction of the Bronze Age Canaanite town system followed shortly
thereafter. The cuneiform alphabet disappeared alongside its urban carri-
ers: scribes in Ugarit and scribes in the urban centers of Canaan.
It is unknown who established the “alphabet” orders. For the first letter in
the sequence of the alphabet order we use today, the ʾālep , the icon of the
religiously loaded word “bull” was chosen. The bull was the sacred animal of
the storm god, the champion Canaanite god. It might have been fitting to be
the first in the alphabet. This ʾālep will later become the Greek alpha and
Latin A, which preserves in a more abstract way the original bull icon “turned
on his horns.”
194
195
II }
Literature
EGYPTIAN AND LEVANTINE BELLES-L ETTRES—L INKS
AND INFLUENCES DURING THE BRONZE AGE
Noga Ayali-Darshan
While the influence of Egyptian hieroglyphs and visual art upon the Late
Bronze Levant is clearly evident, literature is a very different case. As evi-
denced by the identification of Egyptian with local gods on the basis of similar
features, some Egyptian oral traditions were assimilated into Levantine litera-
ture. Ugaritic literature, for example, locates the dwelling of the craftsman god
Koṯar-waḪasis in Memphis (Ugaritic Ḥkpt)—the city of Ptah, his Egyptian
counterpart. Several examples in the biblical literature, composed centuries
later, similarly attest to Israelite familiarity with Late Egyptian literature. In
comparison to the visual arts, however, Egyptian literary influence upon the
Levant seems very limited.
One of the primary reasons for this lies in the random nature of the liter-
ary texts that have survived. To date, the only extant Late Bronze (or earlier)
Levantine literature written in the local language is the Ugaritic corpus. Some
traces also exist in the Hurro-Hittite literature found at Boğazköi (Ḫattuša),
which reflects the traditions prevalent in the upper Levant. We do not know,
however, what the local literature of the cities of Phoenicia, Canaan, or the
kingdom of Amurru contained. Similarly, the principal literary genre in the
Ugaritic literature is mythological narrative. While several prayers, hymns, and
spells have survived, no Ugaritic wisdom texts have been found (for the scribal
school texts, see below). Rather than indicating that this genre (and others)
did not exist in the Levant, this fact simply reflects the chance nature of the
findings. Unfortunately, the genres absent from Ugaritic literature are precisely
those most popular in Egypt from a very early date. On the other hand, the
mythological tales so common in Ugaritic and Hurro-Hittite literature only
began to flourish in Egypt during the New Kingdom. It is thus very difficult
195
196
196 { Noga Ayali-Darshan
to prove Egyptian influence on Late Bronze Levantine literature. In fact, the

reverse direction is far more conspicuous.
In light of the absence of evidence for Egyptian influence on the Levant
during the Late Bronze Age and earlier, scholars have focused their atten-
tion on Egyptian influence upon biblical literature (which contains more
genres)—the younger representative of the Levantine literature. Even here,
however, a close analysis suggests diverse directions of influence. Let us look
at five genres.
The Story of the Storm God’s Combat with the Sea and Other
Mythological Tales
Both Egyptian and Israelite scribes were acquainted with the story of the storm
god’s combat with the Sea. In Egypt, the principal protagonist was Seth, in
Israel YHWH, the antagonist being known in both literatures by the West Semitic
name Yamm (p ꝫ ym in Egyptian, ‫ ים‬in Hebrew). Additional versions and wit-
nesses of this story exist not only in Ugaritic and Hurro-Hittite texts but also
in Mari and Mesopotamia. The Egyptian version being one of the earliest, the
myth might have been assumed to have originated in the land of the Nile. All
the witnesses of the Egyptian version—including the Astarte Papyrus from the
reign of Amenhotep II, three spells (Papyrus Hearst 11, 12–15; Papyrus Berlin
3038 XX 9–XXI 3; Papyrus Leiden I 343 + I 345 IV 9–VI 2), and a stich of a
Hymn to Ramses III from Deir el Medina (Ostracon Deir el-Medina 1222)—
point to a Levantine provenance, however.
In brief, the Astarte Papyrus recounts how Ym opposed the gods, covering
the whole earth with his waters. Under the leadership of Renenutet, the harvest
goddess, the gods pay a tribute to Ym that fails to appease him. One offering is
brought by Astarte, who sings and laughs before him. Finally, Seth confronts
him and delivers the gods from his threats. While the papyrus is broken off
before this point, its opening statement, which relates to Seth—“… that he did
for the Ennead in order to fight Ym”—indicates that he defeated the Sea and
saved the gods from his waters. The above three spells and the Hymn to Ramses III,
which describe Seth’s overpowering of the Sea, confirm not only the end of the
plot but also its dissemination in Egypt.
The main protagonists in the papyrus are Ym and Seth, Renenutet and
Astarte. The other Egyptian gods—Ptah as head of the pantheon and Nut
and Geb who bring the offering—play only a secondary role. The Egyptian
names and features of Ym and Astarte clearly point to their Levantine origin.
Despite their Egyptian names, however, Seth and Renenutet are also depicted
as Levantine rather than Egyptian figures. Seth is customarily regarded as
Osiris’s adversary, not yet being revered as a dynastic god. The fact that he
197
Literature: Egyptian and Levantine Belles-Lettres } 197
serves as the principal protagonist in this story, delivering the gods from Ym,
demonstrates that the features of the Levantine storm god were attached to
him. Renenutet, on the other hand, was a minor harvest goddess before being
transformed into one of the main characters and given responsibility for send-
ing the tribute to Ym. Like Seth, her role thus appears to have been influenced
by that of her counterpart—a far more important figure. In the Hurro-Hittite
literature (composed by north Syrian Hurrians) her equivalent in a similar plot
(Hethiter.net no. 346.9) is in fact Kumarbi, the head of the pantheon and a
grain god. This literature (Hethiter.net nos. 345; 348) also refers to Astarte’s
counterpart—Šaušga, the sister of the Hurrian storm god—as going to the Sea
in order to entice the creatures within it.
The striking parallels between the Astarte Papyrus and Hurro-Hittite
plots, the West Semitic names and features of Ym and Astarte, and the dis-
crepancy between the negative and marginal role of Seth and Renenutet
(respectively) in the Egyptian pantheon and their positive and central role
in the Astarte Papyrus—they all evince that the Egyptian plot originated
in a Levantine milieu. Other details in the papyrus strengthen this claim.
The story opens with a doxology—“Let me praise” (dw ꝫ.i t ꝫ …)—an ele-
ment unknown in Egyptian tales of the period but common in Ugaritic,
Hurro-Hittite, and Mesopotamian texts. This is followed by a cosmogony
that depicts the earth (iwtn) as a female who gives birth—another widely
known feature in western Asian cultures but not in Egypt (where the earth
god is masculine).
The Astarte Papyrus is both amongst the first literary texts written in the
Late Egyptian literary register known to us and one of the first Egyptian
compositions to recount a mythological tale in which all the characters are
personified gods (for papyrus UCL 32158 and related fragments—which
may reflect an earlier mythological narrative—see below). The flourishing
of mythological tales during a later era may thus be inspired by the pen-
etration of such foreign elements—whether during the Hyksos period or in
the wake of Thutmose III’s conquest of the southern Levant. Indirect evi-
dence for this may lie in the inclusion of Levantine gods and their features
in mythological tales and historiolas composed in the subsequent Ramesside
Period.
One such work is The Contendings of Horus and Seth, which may be already
be attested in some small Middle Kingdom fragments (in particularly papyrus
UCL 32158). This story is set within a mythological Egyptian landscape, in
which, in customary fashion, Horus overpowers Seth. According to the New
Kingdom account, when Seth is ultimately adduced in a favorable light, how-
ever, he is offered “Levantine gifts”—the goddesses Anat and Astarte and the
status of storm god. Both these features undoubtedly derive from Seth’s amal-
gamation with the Levantine storm god.
198
Among the historiolas (mythological tales found within the spells), that
in Papyrus Chester Beatty VIII vs. 1.5–2.4 (and its parallels) is most note-
worthy. This recounts how Anat came to the rescue of the ailing Seth after
he had raped the Seed(-goddess) (t ꝫ mtwt) on the beach (the word being
written in its Semitic form—ḫp). This role accords with Anat’s customary
function in Egyptian as the healing goddess (like most of the Levantine gods
in Egypt). Anat’s designation there, however, is associated with another of
her aspects—namely her militaristic features: “Anat, the victorious goddess,
the woman who acts as a warrior, who wears a skirt like men and a sash
like women” (van Dijk 1986, p. 33). This aspect is borrowed in toto from
Levantine literature, being entirely unrelated to her benign role in the plot.
Some of the descriptions of the Seed(-goddess) that bathed on the beach
and entered Seth’s body after he coupled with her as an ox may also have
been borrowed from the Levantine Anat. The spell being against poison (a
secondary meaning of t ꝫ mtwt), her features are transferred to the object of
the spell.
In one of the historialas in Papyrus Leiden I 343 + I 345, Anat is said
to bring “seven jugs of silver and eight jugs of bronze” (rt. III 13) in accor-
dance with the Levantine graded numerical pattern x//x+1. This pattern held
no meaning in Egyptian literature but was prevalent in Levantine epics and
the biblical texts (cf., e.g., Dietrich et al. 2013, no. 1.3 V: 26–27; Hethiter.net
no. 342.1.1:38; Micah 5:4). Papyrus Leiden being replete with the names of
Levantine gods—Baal, Resheph, Anat, Astarte, Qudšu, Nikkal, Šala, Ušḫara,
and Hammarig, and their unique features—it is not surprising that it also con-
tains a stylistic borrowing typical of the Levant, despite the latter possessing
no sense in Egyptian.
The openness New Kingdom Egypt displays to the myths prevalent in the
Levant may well also be reflected in the fantastical tales composed during this
period. Several studies have examined the question of why these were com-
posed precisely during the New Kingdom, addressing the issue of why the
protagonists—kings, gods, or significant cosmic ideas—are depicted in such
a ludicrous and vulgar fashion. The answers proposed relate primarily to the
changes taking place in Egyptian politics, thought, ethics, recreational life, and
so forth. It is more accurate to speak, however, of the Egyptian openness to
non-Egyptian literature that characterized this era, the motifs found in these
tales not being unique to New Kingdom Egypt but forming part of the ancient
Near Eastern milieu as a whole.
Thus, for example, the allegorical tale Truth and Falsehood is the first exam-
ple of its genre in Egypt, dating to the Ramesside Period. Although tradition-
ally understood as an allegorical version of the Contendings, it also forms
a closely contemporary counterpart to the Hurro-Hittite Apu and His Sons
19
Right and Wrong. Some scholars have drawn attention to the striking singu-
larity of the feminine divine name maʿat (Truth)—possessed of vast cosmic
significance in Egypt—given to the weaker male protagonist in Truth and
Falsehood. Matching neither the plot nor the gender, this irregularity may
indicate its foreign roots rather than a literary device (cf. the analogous case
of the goddess Renenutet). Additional examples of this type are found in the
Tale of Two Brothers and the Tale of the Doomed Prince, as demonstrated by
several scholars.
Although very few studies have examined this issue to date, the parallels
with non-Egyptian literature on the one hand and the foreign nature of motifs
within them on the other must be noted in any discussion of the way in which
the mythological tales took shape during the New Kingdom.
Wisdom Literature
This is the earliest and most prominent genre of the Egyptian belles lettres
literature. Since it is not found in Ugarit, it can only be compared with the
bi bl ic a l w i sdom corpus. I n addition to the many affinities between these
tw o se t s o f literatures, similarities also exist between the biblical and
Mesopotamian wisdom texts. It is thus better to examine the most striking
example (according to scholarly consensus)—namely, the influence of the
Instruction of Amenemope upon the book of Proverbs. This takes the form
not only of closely related ideas but also of borrowed Egyptian sapiential
terminology. Thus, for example, the phrase “chambers of the belly” (Proverbs
18:8 = 26:22, 20:27, 30) to describe a person’s innermost being appears to be
an Israelite adaptation of the Egyptian expression “casket of the belly.” The
te rm “ h ot - tempered man” (‫איש חמה‬/‫( )חמות‬cf. Proverbs 15:18, 22:24) to
describe a negative person appears to be the semantic, etymological, and
phonetic equivalent of the Egyptian šmm/ḫmm. The designation of YHWH as
he “who measures the hearts” (Proverbs 21:2, 24:12, cf. 16:2) has its roots in
Thoth’s weighing of the heart of the deceased in the scales during the judg-
ment of the dead. All these terms are found only in wisdom literature—
Proverbs in particular—a nd possess different Hebrew equivalents in other
biblical genres.
The closest parallelism between the Instruction of Amenemope and the book
of Proverbs occurs in the third collection of Proverbs (22:17–24:22), in particu-
lar the first section (22:17–23:11), as the following examples demonstrate. (The
English translations of all the Egyptian works cited here follow Simpson 2003;
translations of the biblical texts follow the New Jewish Publication Society of
America.)
200
PROVERBS AMENEMOPE
Incline your ear and hear the
22:17–19 3:9–14
Give your ears and hear the
words of the sages, and give your sayings, give your heart to
heart to my wisdom. For it is good understand them; it is profitable
that you store them in your belly, to put them on your heart, but
that all of them be constantly on woe to him who neglects them. Let
your lips. them rest in the casket of your belly
that they may act as a lock in your
heart.
22:24–25
Do not befriend an irascible 11:13–18
Do not befriend the hot-
man, nor go with a hot-tempered tempered man nor approach him
man, lest you learn his ways and for conversation … Do not allow
find yourself ensnared. him to cast words only to lasso
you.
23:4–5
Do not toil to gain riches, have 9:14–10:5
Do not exert yourself to seek
the sense to desist. When your out excess; what you have, your
eyes light upon them, they are own property, is good enough
gone. They grow wings like an for you. If riches come to you by
eagle and fly up to the sky. 23:29
See thievery … as soon as day breaks
a man skilled (‫ )מהיר‬in his work— they will not be in your household
he shall attend to kings. … They will make themselves
wings like geese and fly up to
the sky. 27:15–16 The scribe who is
skilled (mhr) in his position, he is
found worthy to be a courtier.
23: 1–3
When you sit down to dine with 23:13–18 Do not eat a meal in the
a ruler, observe carefully who is presence of a magistrate, nor set
before you. And put a knife into to speaking first. If you are sated,
your gullet if you have a large pretend to chew; enjoy yourself
appetite. Do not crave for his with your saliva, look at the bowl
dainties, for they are counterfeit in front of you and let it suffice
food. your needs.
Rather than a common abstract thought-pattern, Proverbs and the Instruction

of Amenemope thus share a chain of motifs of Egyptian provenance. The ear-
liest occurrence of the Instruction is upon an ostracon from the Twentieth
or Twenty-first Dynasty, the latest from the Twenty-sixth Dynasty. The bor-
rowed Egyptian idioms in Proverbs suggest that rather than representing a
lengthy Canaanite legacy, the seventh-century (or later) Israelite scribes were
familiar with these maxims, either due to their knowledge of Egyptian wis-
dom literature or—more probably—via contemporary Aramaic mediation,
as attested by the Aramaic words prevalent in Proverbs, in particular the third
collection.
201
Hymnodic Literature
Although some hymns in praise of the gods have been found in Ugaritic lit-
erature, they evince no trace of Egyptian influence. Nor does such evidence
exist in the biblical texts—with a single exception. Scholars have long noted the
strikingly close parallel between the Great Hymn to Aten found on Ay’s tomb
in Amarna and Psalm 104:20–30 (the first verses of this psalm belonging to an
Israelite cosmogonic tradition). As the comparison below demonstrates, the
identical content and order indicate that these texts share the same origin:
PSALM 104: 20–30 GREAT HYMN TO ATEN

20
You bring on darkness, and it is 3
Whenever you set on the western
night, horizon, the land is in darkness in
the manner of death …
when all the beasts of the forest do 4
Every lion comes out of its cave and
creep forth. 21 The lions roar for all the serpents bite, for darkness
prey, seeking their food from God. is a blanket.
22
The sun arises, they come home, When day breaks you are risen upon
and crouch in their dens. 23 Man the horizon, and you shine in
goes out to his work, to his labor the Aten in the daytime … 5 The
until the evening. entire land performs its work …
25
There is the sea, vast and wide, with 6
The barges sail upstream and
its creatures beyond number, living downstream too, for every way
things, small and great. 26 There go is open at your rising. The fishes
the ships, and Leviathan, that you in the river leap before your face.
formed to sport with. Your rays are inside the sea …
24
How many are your deeds, O YHWH! 7
How many are your deeds, though
You have made them all in your hidden from sight. 8 O sole God,
wisdom; the earth is full of your beside whom there is none! You
creatures. [Note: The order of vss. create the earth as you wish, you
25–26 and 24 in Psalm 104 appears alone, all peoples, herds, and
secondary in relation to their flocks …
equivalents in the Great Hymn.]
27
All of them wait for you, to give them You set every man in his place, you
their food when it is due. 28 Give it to supply their needs, everyone of
them, they gather it up; open your them, according to his diet …
hand, they are well satisfied.
29
Hide your face, they are terrified; 12
The earth comes forth into
take away their breath, they existence by your hand, and you
perish and return to their dust. make it. When you rise, they live;
30
Send back your breath, they are when you set, they die … All work
creating, and you renew the face ceases when you rest in the west.
of the earth.
202
In contrast to Egyptian wisdom literature in general and the Instruction of

Amenemope in particular, no evidence exists that the Great Hymn to Aten
became a canonical text in post-Amarna Egypt. It is thus likely to have been
transmitted to the Levant as early as the Amarna Period itself, the Israelites
probably receiving it via a Canaanite agent.
Love Songs
This genre is a relatively new field of literature in Egypt, making its first appear-
ance during the New Kingdom. While these songs may be assumed to have a
long oral stage in Egypt, their Late Egyptian literary register and novel con-
tent suggest that they were penned during this period. The presence of their
themes—desire, love, and lovemaking—in narrative literature and visual arti-
facts from the New Kingdom onward strengthens this suggestion.
The speakers in the Egyptian love songs, as well as in their equivalent—the
biblical book of Canticles—are young human males and females who address
one another employing sibling appellatives. The characteristic motifs include
admiration of the lover’s physical attributes (in the Arabic waṣf form), love
as an ailment and antidote, the locked door, the garden as a place and image,
etc. The heading sḫmḫ ib—“diversion of the heart” (i.e., entertainment)—that
appears at the beginning of three Egyptian love-song collections, suggest that
they were sung at banquets and festivals. The affinities between the biblical and
Egyptian examples make it likely that the former also formed part of various
festivities.
The earlier dating of the Egyptian love songs in relation to their biblical
equivalents have led scholars to assume that here, too, Egyptian influence on
the Levant is at work. This is not the only possibility, however. In contrast
to Egypt, where this genre (including its reflections in art and narrative) only
occurs during the New Kingdom, cultic and mythic love songs are found in
Mesopotamia (Sumerian and Akkadian) literature from at least the end of the
third millennium BCE, also being reflected in art forms. The same is found in
Ugarit. The building blocks that compose these love songs closely correspond
to their counterparts in Egypt and Israel. For example:
SUMERIAN: My sister, I would go with you to my garden … My sister

I would go with you to my pomegranate tree … (Šulgi Z; Electronic
Corpus of Sumerian Literature 2.4.2.26; Seg B.:10–19)
AKKADIAN: As I [went down] into the garden of your love …
Zarpānitum will go down to the garden. (Tablet British Museum
21005 obv. ii 9; Lambert 1975, pp. 104–5)
UGARITIC: I will make her field like a vineyard, the field of her love like
an orchard. (Dietrich et al. 2013, no. 1.24:22–23; Marcus 1997)
203
BIBLICAL:I have come to my garden, my sister bride, I have plucked my

myrrh and spice … (Canticles 5:1)
EGYPTIAN: How intoxicating are the plants of my garden, [the lips] of
my sister are a lotus. (Papyrus Harris 500, No. 3)
While modern westerners may regard the motifs of the garden and brother/
sister images as self-evident or universal, this reflects the fact that the roots of
western civilization lie in the ancient Near East.
The Sitz im Leben of the Mesopotamian and Ugaritic love songs differs from
that of their Egyptian and Israelite counterparts. In Mesopotamia and Ugarit
the songs primarily served in cultic and mythic contexts, the speakers rarely
being human beings. In Egypt and the Hebrew Bible, on the other hand, they
are all spoken by human figures. Numerous additional stylistic comparisons
can nonetheless be adduced that demonstrate the external affinities between
the various collections. The striking similarities and the fact that the genre is
embedded within Mesopotamian literature suggest that its abrupt appearance
in Egypt was due to its penetration into Egypt—in similar fashion to the way
in which the land of the Nile came into contact with Levantine mythological
tales during this period. After its introduction into Egypt, local poets accom-
modated it to the Egyptian milieu.
The fact that divine love songs are reflected in Ugaritic literature, several
examples of human love lyrics also existing among the Mesopotamian find-
ings, indicates that Levantine literature may have served as the channel through
which this genre was transmitted to Egypt. The question of whether the love
songs in Canticles attest to the existence of repeated, boomerang-like, Egyptian
influence on ancient Israelite culture or the prevalence of love songs from the
Bronze Age onward in western Asia thus remains open.
The Carpe Diem Motif in the Harpers’ Songs
Orchestra and harpers’ songs were engraved on tomb walls from the Middle
Kingdom onward in order to proclaim the deceased’s favorable circumstances.
In line with conventional Egyptian thought, the tomb that remains forever is
glorious, as also is the sustenance at its owner’s disposal—which, in contrast to
that which he ate while he was still alive, will never run dry. The deceased is thus
happy, his joyful relatives accompanying him to his new abode. In this context,
it is surprising to find—for the first time in an Amarna Period tomb (from
Saqqara)—harpers’ songs exhibiting reservations regarding the world of the
dead and the ceremonies that accompany the deceased on his journey thither.
The first—and most extreme—of these is the Antef Song, named after the
king adduced in the opening lines. Contra all we know of the Egyptian view of
the dead, this depicts the tomb as a temporary place destined to disappear, no
204
joy thus being present in it. No one ever having returned from the land of the
dead (another belief contravening conventional Egyptian thought) to tell of its
goodness, it is thus better to seek to be happy in this life rather than in death.
The full text of the Antef Song occurs in Papyrus Harris 500, dated to the
Ramesside Period. Here it is sandwiched between two love-song collections,
also occurring in close proximity to the tales of the Doomed Prince and the
Capture of Joppa. On the basis of the classical language it exhibits, most schol-
ars date it to the reign of an Egyptian king called Antef from the Eleventh
Dynasty. The fact that it only appears to have been known to Egyptian scribes
from the post-Amarna age onward, however, is incommensurate with this ear-
lier date. Some of the other themes in it—such as the long life of the sages’
words—also occur in New Kingdom texts (cf. Papyrus Chester Beatty IV), and
traces of later grammar and syntax may strengthen this argument.
The prominent affinities between the carpe diem motif in the Antef Song and
Ecclesiastes is evident in the following verses:
ECCLESIASTES 9:7–8 ANTEF SONG 5:26–29

Go, eat your bread in gladness, and Follow your heart as long as you live.
drink your wine in joy. Put myrrh on your head,
Let your clothes be always white; Dress yourself in fine linen,
and let your head lack no oil. Anoint yourself with the exquisite oils
that are only for the gods.
With this motif in Egypt predating Ecclesiastes, the Antef Song may be pre-
sumed to have influenced the biblical text. Compositions of this type, however,
were prevalent in Mesopotamia (from at least the Old Babylonian period) and
the scribal schools of Ugarit, Emar, and Ḫattuša (from the Middle Babylonian
period). Mesopotamian literature contains such texts as Everything is Worthless
and Siduri’s speech in the Gilgamesh Epic, the Levantine schools the Ballad
of the Early Rulers, Enlil and Namzitara, and the Instructions of Šupe-Ameli.
Some of these only refer to the motif of vanity and skepticism, others com-
bine these with the derivative carpe diem motif. Although all these texts are
Babylonian in origin, written in Sumerian or Akkadian, scholars are divided
over whether the carpe diem and vanity motifs in the Levantine versions derive
from Babylonia or represent Levantine additions. Whatever the case may be
in this regard, these compositions were clearly very popular in the Levantine
scribal schools during the Late Bronze Age. The closest parallels to Ecclesiastes
and the Antef Song are Siduri’s speech in the Gilgamesh Epic and the Ballad of
the Early Rulers:
When the gods created mankind, for mankind they established death, life
they kept for themselves … You keep enjoying yourself, day and night.
Every day make merry, dance and play day and night. Let your clothes be
205
clean! Let your head be washed, may you be bathed in water. Let a wife
enjoy your repeated embrace. (George 2003, pp. 272–86)
Those came after those, and others came after others … . All life is
but a swivel of an eye. The life of mankind cannot last forever. Where
is Alulu… ? Where is Etana… ? Where is Gilgames… ? Where is
Huwawa… ? … . Where are the great kings? … Repel, drive away your
sorrow, scorn silence! … May Siraš (the Wine Goddess) rejoice over you
as if over (her) son! (Cohen 2013, pp. 133–41)
The popularity of the carpe diem motif in the Levant and its rarity in Egypt
suggests that here, too, the Egyptians borrowed a western Asian model, most
probably via the Levant, where it was so celebrated. The speech of Ecclesiastes
may thus reflect the Levantine propensity for this genre (originating in
Mesopotamia) rather than Egyptian influence.
Conclusions
In conclusion, the five Late Egyptian genres, compositions, and motifs dis-
cussed above suggest a familiarity with Levantine and western Asian litera-
ture: (1) the Astarte Papyrus and mythical narrative, (2) the Instruction of
Amenemope and wisdom literature, (3) the Great Hymn to Aten, (4) the love
songs, and (5) the carpe diem motif in the harpers’ songs. We have found
that the early date of a manuscript does not prove the early origin of the
genre, just as a late date does not indicate the sources that influenced it.
The wisdom and hymnodic literatures exhibit striking evidence of Egyptian
influence on specific biblical texts. The absence of these genres in Ugarit,
however, makes it impossible to know how much we can infer from this fact
regarding Egyptian influence on the Levant during the Late Bronze Age. In
contrast, while traces of the mythological tales, love songs, and the carpe
diem motif exist in the biblical texts, the influence in this case may be in
the opposite direction. The presence of the story of the storm god’s com-
bat with the Sea in Egypt demonstrates that Levantine literature reached
Egypt and influenced this country’s literary output in various ways. In light
of this, additional motifs from the mythological tales, love songs, and carpe
diem literature composed in Egypt during the New Kingdom may have been
influenced by the conventional models of these genres long prevalent in
western Asia.
206
207
12 }
All Gods Are Our Gods

RELIGIOUS INTERACTION
208
209
I }
“From Bes to Baal”

RELIGIOUS INTERCONNECTIONS BETWEEN
EGYPT AND THE EAST
Izak Cornelius
Introduction
Although the region of Egypt was relatively isolated by the Mediterranean in

the north, the Nile cataracts in the south, and deserts in the east and the west,
it maintained strong contact with its neighbors, including the cultures to the
east. These contacts go back to the very early periods, but later contacts should
not be neglected. They took the form, on the one hand, of peaceful trade rela-
tions going back to the earliest phases of history, and also diplomatic con-
tacts, as reflected in international correspondence such as the Amarna Letters
between the pharaohs and the rulers of western Asia. On the other hand,
there were more violent contacts through war and conquest, with the Asiatic
Hyksos invading and ruling over parts of Egypt, and the conquest of Egypt by
the Assyrians, Babylonians, and Persians. The New Kingdom pharaohs con-
quered and ruled over large parts of the Levant (Syria and Palestine). It is
especially in the field of religion that the interconnections might have been the
strongest. The Egyptians worshipped “other deities, the deities of the other”
(Zivie-Coche 1994).
According to ancient Egyptian thought, Egypt was the axis mundi (center of
the world), god’s land, while foreign lands and the foreigner (“the other”) were
on the periphery and inferior. But in spite of a seemingly strong “xenophobic”
tendency, the relationship between Egypt and other countries—including their
respective deities and religions—was not a one-sided influence; there was also
influence from “the other” on Egypt, with foreign deities entering Egypt and
being accepted in its religion. Because Egypt had a polytheistic system, wor-
shipping a multitude of deities in many forms and never being exclusive or
laying claim to the absolute truth, new deities could be incorporated. Similarly,
Egyptian deities were “exported” to the east.
209
210
210 { Izak Cornelius
The strongest influence in the east was into the Levant and to a lesser, but
not insignificant, extent Anatolia, Mesopotamia, and Persia. The reason for
the limited influence in the last two cases might have been the geographical
distances, and when there was influence it was sometimes more indirect and
occurred through intermediaries such as the cultures of the Levant or Anatolia,
or in the case of Persia via the Assyrians. Influence in the southern Levant
(Palestine/Israel) was naturally stronger because of the close proximity to
Egypt and direct Egyptian control and administration of this region under the
New Kingdom for nearly four hundred years, although contacts go back much
earlier.
The sources informing us on the exchange of religious ideas, symbols, and
deities are not only texts but also artifacts and, as far as deities are concerned,
the iconography of the deities. In the first case a lot has been written on the
influence of Egyptian literature and especially cosmogonies (creation myths)
on, for example, the Hebrew Bible (creation by word of mouth as with Ptah
of Memphis and Genesis 1). The same is true of the religion of Amarna: the
influence on later monotheism and the Aten hymn on Psalm 104. In addition,
Yahwism has solar elements of Egyptian origin. But the biblical texts are from
a much later period. Copies of Mesopotamian myths such as Adapa and the
Southwind and Nergal and Ereshkigal were found at Amarna (EA 356–357),
but these were scholarly texts and do not indicate any direct influence. Other
instances of eastern influences on Egyptian religious literature might be found
in Levantine mythology mentioning deities such as Baal, Astarte, and Anat, as
in the Astarte papyrus, The Contendings of Horus and Seth, and the Tale of the
Two Brothers.
On the other hand, however, there is hardly any influence concerning death
and the afterlife, as the views in western Asia were of a totally different nature
(a very gloomy underworld and no real afterlife, or no belief in resurrection).
According to O. Kaelin, there are a number of cultural innovations that were
introduced into Mesopotamia during the third millennium BCE, such as the
“worshipper statues,” votive plaques, and even the deification of Akkadian
kings. But this is disputable, as the religion was totally different, as was the con-
cept of divine kingship. Whether the idea of monumental religious architecture
is another example of influence (from which direction: Egypt to Mesopotamia
or Mesopotamia to Egypt?) is debatable. Nevertheless, there is a big difference
between the pyramid as a tomb and the Mesopotamian ziggurat as a temple.
An issue is the ways in which deities were exchanged or entered a certain
region. Merchants carried not only goods but also ideas, and in both directions.
Along with invaders such as the Hyksos came their deities. There were slaves
and prisoners of war from the Levant who, taken to Egypt, brought along
their deities. Egyptian deities were carried by their armies marching into the
Levant, but soldiers also brought back foreign deities, a case unique to the New
Kingdom. It does not seem that the Assyrians, Babylonians, and Persians from
21
Religious Interconnections: Egypt and the East } 211
the east who invaded and conquered Egypt had that much influence as far as
religion is concerned.
Consideration should be given to the question why and how religious ideas
and deities are transferred between cultures. Various theoretical approaches
have been followed in recent scholarship to explain the phenomenon of religious
exchange, from “translating religions” (Smith 2008) to “translative adaptation
theory” (Tazawa 2009) to “acculturation” and others (Schneider 2010). These
approaches attempt to explain why and how deities were able to migrate to
other regions. It seems that a combination of approaches is more appropriate.
Egyptian Deities in the East
Specific named Egyptian deities entered the Levantine and other eastern
regions, as did religious symbols. The imagery of many Levantine deities is very
much Egyptian in nature, and in this regard a few examples must suffice. The
only properly identified god from the Levant is Baal-Zaphon; the name appears
on a stela from north Syrian Ugarit with hieroglyphic texts. He is shown in
Egyptian form with a high crown, holding a was-scepter but with a streamer,
which is a non-Egyptian adaptation. In a similar fashion, the only identifiable
goddess from the Levant is Anat, who appears on a stela from Beth-Shean and
looks very Egyptian. Even the famous Baal stela from Ugarit shows a figure in
a style very reminiscent of Egypt, the so-called “smiting god” developed from
the iconography of the “smiting pharaoh,” but this figure is rather a “menac-
ing god” as there is no enemy shown and hence the gesture as such is of great
importance. It has been surmised that Egyptian temples were built in the prov-
ince of Canaan (e.g., in Beth Shean), but this is only the case in Gaza (Amun
temple) as provincial capital, and in Byblos (Hathor).
In Syrian glyptic, Egyptian symbols such as the ankh are used. B. Teissier
studied Egyptian iconography, viz. motifs (some religious), on Middle Bronze
Age seals (fig. 12.1). Regarding symbols from Egyptian religion, the foremost
is the winged disk, which is definitely of Egyptian origin and it spread from
there to the Levant, Anatolia, Mesopotamia, and finally Persia. The symbol
was linked to the sun god (Re or Horus Behdety), but was adapted and newly
interpreted for local circumstances. As in Egypt, it was closely linked with king-
ship. In some cases the uraei were left out and streams of water were added,
linking it more with rain. An even more novel adaptation was adding a man
in a circle with flames/fire, in some cases carrying a bow, making it a war god
(Shamash or Aššur in Assyria); in Persia he was shown holding a ring. Whether
the figure in the last case is the Persian god Ahura Mazda is debatable.
There are many Egyptian or Egyptianizing motifs on the Levantine ivories.
There is the goddess Maat on papyrus stalks and the winged uraeus cobra.
Other ivories show ba-birds and the deities Bastet, Bes, Hathor, Heh, Horus,
21
FIGURE 12.1 Egyptianizing cylinder seal from north Syrian Alalakh eighteenth/seventeenth

centuries BCE. Local ruler with Egyptian deities (Montu and Khnum) and ankh signs and two
crowned falcons.
Horus-the-child, Isis, Kheper, Khnum, Maat, Nephthys, Sekhmet, Taweret, and

Thoth. The Nimrud ivories also have Egyptian or Egyptianizing motifs such as
a sphinx and even Egyptian deities. These might have been made in Egypt.
Various amulets of Egyptian deities and demons are known and include Isis,
Bes, and Patakos. There are also amulets with animals linked to Egyptian dei-
ties, such as the cat and the falcon, and object amulets, especially the wedjat-eye.
In some instances, specific Egyptian deities are present in western Asian cul-
tures. Hathor and Isis were especially popular in Byblos in the second and first
millennia BCE. Egyptian deities were popular in the Levant during the Persian
period. Hathor was called “lady of Byblos” (fig. 12.2), and her link with that
city goes back to the third millennium BCE, perhaps because of her associa-
tion with boats and navigation. Like the myth of Osiris, Isis also has a link
with Byblos. The craftsman deity of Ugarit, Kothar-wa-khasis, came from
Hikuptah, Memphis in Egypt, and can be identified with the Egyptian Ptah.
Seal amulets from the southern Levant depict the pharaoh presenting effi-
gies of the goddess Maat, especially to the god Ptah. A large bronze feather
(14 cm tall) found at Late Bronze Age Lachish might come from a c.70–80 cm
statue of the goddess. The concept of maat was known in the southern Levant,
and influence on Hebrew concepts of world order and justice is possible but
should not be overemphasized; in some cases it is, to use the phrase of M. V.
Fox (1995), a “crooked parallel.”
The Egyptian household demon/deity Bes, who protected women and chil-
dren, was represented as a bow-legged dwarf with a protruding tongue and a
feathered headdress. Although his origin might be sought in the east or in the
enigmatic land of Punt, he is the only Egyptian deity that was widespread in
the broader region of western Asia, from Anatolia to Iran. Representations
213
FIGURE 12.2 Limestone stela from Byblos, height 1.13 m., fifth cent. BCE (Louvre). King Yehawmilk of
Byblos and the “lady of Byblos” on an Egyptian throne with papyrus scepter and headdress of Hathor
(sun disk and horns); above is a winged sun disk
of Bes are found in the Levant: on early cylinder seals in the north; on ivories
(fig. 12.3) and very prominently on amulets in the south. A famous drawing on
a Kuntillet Ajrud pithos shows two figures that have been identified as Bes, or
maybe Bes and his female counterpart Beset. Bes also occurs on later Persian-
period coins from Samaria. There are also Bes vases and statuettes, and he is
also found on the Karatepe reliefs in Anatolia. In Mesopotamia Bes is not men-
tioned in the cuneiform texts (he might have been known under another name),
but he is depicted in visual form. There are amulets, figurines on an ivory, and
even a copper figurine from Nimrud in the eighth/seventh century BCE. Bes has
been linked with the demon Humbaba, serving an apotropaic role. His image
is seen on a wide variety of artifacts from the Persian Achaemenid period,
e.g., shown as a master of the animals on an earring. K. Abdi argued these
might have been brought by Egyptians, but some were appropriated because of
some cultural connection and even associated with local deities like the Iranian
Mithra, an example of the “Iranization” of Bes.
Although Egyptian beliefs in the afterlife presumably did not influence west-
ern Asia or the Levant, anthropoid coffins of terracotta have been found in the
southern Levant, and these might be imitations linked to Egyptian prototypes.
However, they are not the coffins of Egyptian officials, nor have they anything
214
FIGURE 12.3 Ivory from Megiddo, Late Bronze Age (Chicago A 22214): Bes with feather crown.
to do with the Sea Peoples. Such coffins have been found at burial sites at Deir
el-Balah, Tell el-Farah (South), and Beth Shean and were produced locally. The
coffins are in the form of the Egyptian god Osiris. One coffin from Lachisch,
dating to the Late Bronze Age, has a crude drawing of the wailing goddesses
Isis and Nephthys and a crude hieroglyphic inscription.
Eastern Deities in Egypt
Little information is available as far as the role and influence of deities from the
early civilizations of Mesopotamia in Egypt are concerned. One unique case
is Ishtar; according to one of the Amarna Letters, the goddess Shauskagawa
of Nineveh (Ishtar) visited Egypt. In treaties between Egypt and the Hittites,
Egyptian deities were identified with their Hittite counterparts, such as Re with
the Hittite sun god and Seth with the storm god Teshub. The Near Eastern
demon Sāmānu—who was dangerous to infants, young men and women, and
prostitutes (described as having a lion’s mouth, dragon’s teeth, eagle’s claws,
and the tail of a scorpion)—was known as Akhu in Egypt.
215
As far as the Levant is concerned, the situation was unique. Precisely which
deities the Hyksos, who came from the Levant, brought with them is still a mat-
ter of dispute. The Hyksos of Avaris worshipped Seth, but no available texts
mention that this was the case with Baal. From Avaris hails a locally made
cylinder seal (dated to the eighteenth century BCE) showing a menacing god in
typical Levantine style. It has been identified as Baal or, better, Baal-Zaphon,
who was linked with the sea. A personal name mentions Anat.
In later periods the situation changed drastically. There is much better infor-
mation available on Levantine deities entering Egypt, especially in the time of
the New Kingdom. These deities are (in alphabetical order): Anat, Astarte,
Baal, Hauron, Qedeshet, and Reshef. Egyptian texts mention these deities.
Papyrus Sallier IV refers to Baalat, Qedeshet, Anat, Baal-Zaphon; and a ves-
sel mentions Astarte, Anat, Reshef, and Qedeshet; and a magical spell invokes
Reshef, Anat, and Hauron. On the other hand, it is interesting that Egyptian
officials in the Levant worshipped the local deities such as Mami or Ugarit
Baal-Zaphon (identified with the Egyptian Seth), and a cylinder seal from
Beth-Shean even shows Ramesses II with the god Reshef.
The goddesses Anat and Astarte were the daughters of Re, the consorts of
Seth (who again was identified with Baal in Egypt), and close to Hathor. Astarte
is mentioned for the first time together with Reshef in a text that acknowl-
edges that they are pleased with the horsemanship of Amenhotep II. The link
with chariots and horses—Astarte is depicted on a horse—might explain why
she became popular. Many Levantine deities were introduced because of their
martial traits, giving further support to the military prowess of the pharaoh.
The Levantine deities Anat, Astarte, and Reshef are shown armed (fig. 12.4).
Anat became important in Egypt somewhat later. She was very popular with
Ramesses II, as was the case with Astarte. The Levantine storm god Baal is
unique insofar as this god was identified with the Egyptian Seth to such an
extent that one can speak of Seth-Baal. There is no Egyptian visual image asso-
ciated with the name Baal, but stelae with the name Seth show a hybrid god
not with the typical Seth head, but rather a figure with Asiatic attributes such
as a headdress with horns, as on the famous 400-Year Stela. Baal was wor-
shipped from the time of Thutmose III/Amenhotep II at Perunefer and is often
mentioned by pharaohs such as Ramesses II to describe military power. The
god Hauron/Horon was also of Levantine origin. He is already mentioned in
the execration texts; he was introduced by Amnehotep II and was also popu-
lar with Ramesses II. Hauron, assimilated with Horus (Hauron-Harmachis)
and depicted as a falcon, was especially popular in the Giza region and linked
with the god Shed. Most of these Levantine deities are depicted in human
form: Seth-Baal as a hybrid, but Hauron in animal form. Whereas all the dei-
ties mentioned so far function in the important religious texts from Ugarit,
Qedeshet (“holy one”) does not. She is called the daughter of Re, linked to
Hathor, and is invoked in magical spells. She is depicted as a naked woman
216
FIGURE 12.4 Limestone stela from Deir el-Medina, height 75 cm. Nineteenth Dynasty (BM EA 191).
Naked Levantine goddess Qedeshet on lion flanked by Egyptian god Min and Levantine god Reshef,
below worshippers with armed Levantine goddess Anat.
217
wearing a Hathor headdress and standing on a lion on a whole series of stelae,

sometimes flanked by the Egyptian Min and the Levantine Reshef (fig. 12.4).
Whereas Baal was more popular with the pharaohs, Qedeshet was more part
of popular religion, e.g., at Deir el-Medinah. In the Levant Reshef is a god of
pestilence. He was identified with Montu but not Seth. In Egypt he was wor-
shipped from the time of Amenhotep II. Reshef was linked both with royalty
and the common people, related to horses, and depicted as a warrior with a
shield and a quiver. Most of these deities remained popular until much later,
up to Roman times.
In later periods came new deities like Atargatis—an amalgamation of Anat
and Astarte—and Mithras from Persia. Although they never had any influ-
ence on the Egyptians themselves, the Jewish colony at Elephantine (sixth cen-
tury BCE) worshipped Yahu (YHWH, also in forms like Anat-Yahu) and had
a temple. Later came Christianity and Manichaeism, both oriental religions.
Important Gnostic texts come from the sands of Egypt.
Conclusions
Strong contact between Egypt and western Asia existed, especially as far as
religious connections are concerned. Egyptian religious symbolism is found in
western Asian iconography. Deities were exchanged—out of Egypt, but also
into Egypt. Goddesses like Hathor and Maat were exported to the Levant; the
household deity Bes was popular from Anatolia to Iran. A unique case occurs
in the New Kingdom, when Levantine deities became popular in Egypt, not
only with the pharaohs but also among the common people. In later periods,
other deities came to Egypt.
218
219
II }
Egypt and Nubia
Kathryn Howley
The Qustul incense burner was discovered in the early 1960s by the Oriental
Institute Expedition at the cemetery of Qustul, a site situated near the first
cataract of the Nile in a border region that, both anciently and in more mod-
ern times, has played host to a rich array of interactions between Egypt and
its southern neighbors. The incense burner, though discovered in Nubia, is
decorated with a wide array of sunk-relief figures familiar from contempora-
neous Egyptian Early Dynastic artifacts. A figure wearing the conical crown
of Upper Egypt sits upon a sacred boat, the shape of which exactly matches
numerous examples depicted on Egyptian pottery of this period. To his left, a
falcon perches on a platform supported by three pillars; the falcon through-
out Egyptian history represented Horus, the god of Egyptian kingship, while
the platform and pillars correspond to the serekh, the ornamental outline that
surrounded gods’ and kings’ names at this period. To the right, a series of con-
centric rectangles representing a palace façade looms imposingly, echoing the
same iconography used in many Early Dynastic religious contexts, including
the tombs of Egypt’s first kings. Though modest in size and material, measur-
ing only 15 cm in diameter and made of clay, the Qustul incense burner’s signif-
icance as one of the earliest pieces of evidence for Nubian-Egyptian interaction
is great. In fact, it serves as a model for much of the religious interaction that
was to follow between Nubian populations in modern-day northern Sudan and
their Egyptian neighbors on the Nile.
Despite the close resemblance of the decoration to other Egyptian objects,
the true meaning of the Qustul incense burner has eluded scholars: while the
religious imagery that it bears seems to belong in an entirely Egyptian con-
text, the form of the object on which the Egyptian king and his god proclaim
themselves so confidently—a small, flaring cylindrical incense burner made
of clay—appears only in Nubia. Did the imagery on this incense burner have
religious significance to the Nubian population in the area, and was it used in 219
20
220 { Kathryn Howley
Nubian religious ritual? Could it even be the case that the Nubian kings at this
time were presenting themselves as Egyptian pharaohs, with all the office’s reli-
gious connotations? Or was this object sent from the Egyptian Early Dynastic
kings to their counterparts in Nubia, Egyptian religious propaganda wrapped
in Nubian clothing?
Though the character and meaning of the religious interaction represented
by the Qustul incense burner cannot be reconstructed, this early evidence dem-
onstrates the most important characteristics that govern religious interaction
between Nubia and Egypt throughout pharaonic history. Firstly, much of the
evidence for religious interaction takes the form of royal monuments, both due
to the simple fact that this (often stone) material survives better than the more
ephemeral traces of the religious practice of daily life, and also because the use
of Egyptian objects and religious ideas seems to have been mostly restricted to
the highest sections of Nubian society. Secondly, many of the religious objects
and imagery that traveled from Egypt to Nubia gained new forms and func-
tions in order to become meaningful in their new cultural context. Finally, pre-
vious scholarly narratives have stressed the one-way movement of Egyptian
religious iconography to Nubia and the “Egyptianization” of Nubian religion.
A distinct lack of archaeological evidence for native Nubian religious prac-
tices, demonstrated by our lack of understanding of the cultural context of the
Qustul incense burner, exacerbates the impression of Nubia as a passive recep-
tor of Egyptian ideas. Careful analysis of the roles Egyptian material culture
played in Nubian society, as well as a reconsideration of changes in religious
practice in Egypt during periods of high political interaction between Egypt
and Nubia, can help to illuminate the true richness of Egypto-Nubian religious
interaction during the pharaonic period.
***
The Nubian civilization of Kerma (contemporary with the late Old Kingdom
through the mid-eighteenth Dynasty) offers a case study for the ways in which
Egyptian religious imagery was fully adapted by Nubians to its new cultural
context. Kerma, its center situated farther south into Nubia than Qustul, near
the third cataract of the Nile, appears in Egyptian textual sources as a formi-
dable enemy to the Egyptians; the military ability of Kerma to make incursions
into Egyptian territory is also archaeologically attested by the occasional pres-
ence of looted Egyptian statuary in Kerman tombs. Overwhelmingly, despite
this evidence of the relatively high level of interaction between the two cul-
tures, the vast cemetery and town site at Kerma demonstrate that Kerman
religious practices were not rooted in Egyptian belief. This is most strikingly
shown in the monumental mud-brick mass of the deffufas (temples) and in
the immense tumuli and hundreds of human sacrifices that accompanied the
burials of the Kerman kings. The site of Kerma provides perhaps our best
evidence for native Nubian religious practice, though its interpretation is still
21
Religious Interconnections: Egypt and Nubia } 221
elusive: ranks of often winged wild animals such as giraffes, elephants, and
rhinoceroses decorate funerary chapel walls and the distinctive Nubian burial
beds, while common elite grave goods include ostrich feather fans and distinc-
tive tulip-shaped red-and-black ceramic beakers. While Egyptian goods includ-
ing scarabs, mirrors, stone vessels, and amulets do occur in small quantities in
Kerman graves, the underlying Nubian funerary practices represented by the
treatment of the body (laid out on a bed rather than enclosed in an Egyptian
coffin) and accompanying grave goods and human sacrifices remain the same.
The concentration of Egyptian goods in the highest elite graves instead sug-
gests that possession of foreign material culture was a way of negotiating sta-
tus in Kerman society, rather than an example of Kermans adopting Egyptian
religious beliefs or practices.
In two major examples at Kerma do Egyptian religious beliefs and ico-
nography appear to have been incorporated into Kerman practice rather than
appended to traditional Nubian customs as a marker of status. Firstly, the
Egyptian motif of the winged sun disk appears prominently in the decoration
of the funerary chapel and associated tumulus of one of the Classic Kerma
period kings. Secondly, the motif of the Egyptian goddess Taweret, who is
generally depicted as a standing hippopotamus, was a popular one for appliqués
and inlays on the funerary equipment of elite Kerman women. Taweret undergoes
specific transformations in her journey from the Egyptian to Nubian cultural
sphere: she often acquires wings and wears a skirt that resembles the costume
of Kerman women. As mentioned above, wings were an important attribute of
many of the ranks of animals that decorated funerary chapel walls and burial
beds at Kerma. It is likely that the winged sun disk was one of the few ele-
ments of Egyptian religion appropriated by Kermans because wings were in
some way religiously significant to Nubians. Likewise, Taweret may have been
adopted by the Kermans because her form as a hippopotamus was appropri-
ate to the importance of wild savannah animals in Nubian religion, perhaps
even reflecting the existence of a native hippopotamus deity. In any case, it
is important to stress that these were isolated examples that were integrated
fully into Nubian religious practice: the Egyptian elements that were adopted
appear to have been so because of their relevance to already existing Kerman
religious beliefs, and, as in the case of Taweret, are in fact given added Kerman
elements to further integrate them into a Nubian belief system. In other words,
the existence of Egyptian iconography within a Kerman religious context is
not evidence of the “Egyptianization” of Nubian religion at this time; rather,
Egyptian iconography was carefully selected and Nubianized in order to serve
the purpose of a wholly Nubian cultural system.
***
The most monumental representation of Egyptian religious practice in Nubia
comes from the series of temples that were built in Lower Nubia by the New
2
Kingdom pharaohs, which both represents royal control over Nubian-Egyptian

religious interaction and highlights our ignorance of native Nubian religious
practices. Many of these temples—Semna, Kumma, Buhen, Gebel Barkal,
Soleb, Sedeinga, and Kawa— were freestanding stone constructions, built
according to the traditional Egyptian plan of peristyle court and hypostyle
hall, leading back to a sanctuary. Still more were rock-cut structures, religious
spaces carved out of solid rock, including el-Lessiya and Abu Simbel. The gods
worshiped at these temples follow a fairly predictable pattern, with the cataract
gods Satet, Anuket, and Khnum being especially popular. Dedwen is common,
as are forms of Horus linked to the vicinity of the temple (including “Horus,
Lord of Nubia” and “Horus of Buhen”). Most strikingly, the deified Egyptian
pharaoh often appears, including Amenhotep III at Soleb and Ramesses II at
Abu Simbel, as well as at Amara, Gerf Hussein, Wadi es-Sebua, Ed-Derr, and
Aksha. The deification of these pharaohs occurs only at their Nubian, and not
Egyptian, temples.
The use of “Nubian” gods such as Dedwen, Satet, and Anuket in these tem-
ples, as well as their rock-cut architecture, has often been cited as evidence for
Nubian influence on the expression of Egyptian religion in Nubia. However,
upon closer examination, Dedwen (who is depicted with the same anthropo-
morphic appearance as many other Egyptian gods) is known as a “Nubian”
god through purely Egyptian sources: there is no evidence for his worship in
Nubia before these New Kingdom temples. In fact, his first attestation is from
the Egyptian Pyramid Texts of Pepi I (Sixth Dynasty), where his epithet pro-
claims him as Nubian. Moreover, Satet, Anuket, and Khnum are rooted firmly
within the Egyptian rather than Nubian tradition, despite their geographical
correlation in Egyptian sources with the first cataract area. The idea that native
Nubian worship favored rock-cut structures over freestanding buildings has
more evidence, with some Nubian cave shrines known at, for example, Sayala.
The difficulties of building stone temples in the natural environment of Nubia
may also have played a part: the much narrower Nile valley and poor-quality
sandstone available for building may have encouraged Egyptian builders to
take advantage of natural features of the landscape just as much as any reli-
gious influence.
Ironically, the worship of Hathor, a goddess with no geographical connec-
tions to Nubia, at Gebel Barkal was perhaps more “Nubian” than the venera-
tion of Dedwen and Anuket: just as Taweret was appropriated by the Kermans,
other Egyptian female goddesses seem to have been more likely to be adopted
by the Nubians, perhaps because of the prominent role of women in Nubian
society. Amun was another Egyptian deity worshipped at Gebel Barkal whose
choice and form may have been influenced by native Nubian beliefs. Amun in
Nubia generally takes the form of a ram, as opposed to his anthropomorphic
representation in Egypt: the discovery in queens’ tombs at Kerma of golden
headdresses in the shape of rams’ horns curling around the ears suggests the
23
existence of a native Nubian ram deity and may explain the ongoing impor-
tance of Amun and Gebel Barkal in Nubian religion after the New Kingdom.
Despite their monumentality and corresponding impact on the Nubian
landscape, the degree of influence that these Egyptian temples had on Nubian
religious practice is exceedingly unclear. Many of the temples, such as Abu
Simbel or Soleb, were not located near population centers, and entry to the
greater part of Egyptian temples was in any case restricted to properly puri-
fied priestly personnel. After the withdrawal of New Kingdom pharaohs from
Nubia, the use of these temples appears to have ceased, with the temple com-
plex at Gebel Barkal showing a clear abandonment level. It is therefore doubt-
ful if the majesty of structures such as Abu Simbel had any religious effect on
the Nubian population: the prominence of the deified pharaoh, as well as the
small degree to which Egyptian religious ideas were adapted to native Nubian
practice, may instead suggest that these buildings were intended to influence
the local population through propagandistic more than religious methods.
***
The advent of a new Nubian dynasty at Napata in the eighth century BCE
was to revive the role of Egyptian religion in Nubian society and inaugurated
the most intense period of Egypto-Nubian religious interaction in pharaonic
history. Much of our evidence for this period comes from the royal Nubian
burial sites of el-Kurru and Nuri, located near the fourth cataract of the Nile.
The earliest rulers of this dynasty, though burying themselves in Nubian-style
tumulus tombs, showed an interest in Egyptian affairs, writing their names in
cartouches and, as shown by a stela of King Kashta at Elephantine, perhaps
even exercising some territorial control over the southern reaches of Egypt.
Both Kashta and his predecessor Alara reintroduced building at the originally
New Kingdom Egyptian temples at Kawa and Gebel Barkal. With the full-
scale invasion of Egypt by King Piankhy, the Egyptian Twenty-fifth Dynasty
was inaugurated and the practice of Egyptian religion in Nubia was fully
reintroduced, including the construction of pyramidal royal tombs (fig. 12.5).
Previous discussions of this period have characterized this interaction as a total
“Egyptianization” of Nubian practice. However, as with previous episodes of
religious interaction, we can see that the use of Egyptian religion in the Nubian
sphere was overwhelmingly concentrated in the highest levels of society; that
many Egyptian religious objects and iconography were adapted in Nubia to
function within a Nubian cultural context; and in addition, that many of the
changes Egyptian religion underwent in Egypt at this time may have done so
under the influence of the Nubian rulers.
The devotion of the Napatan kings to the gods of the Egyptian pantheon
was sincere and is preserved for us in Piankhy’s Victory Stela, in which he
berates the local rulers of Egypt for their impious ways against Amun (in par-
ticular eating fish and being uncircumcised) and caps his conquest of Egypt
24
FIGURE 12.5 The remains of the Twenty-fifth Dynasty royal pyramid tombs at Kurru, Sudan.
by touring the Egyptian Amun temples. Other ways in which religious interac-
tion manifested itself at this period was through the building and repair of
Egyptian-style temples in Nubia such as Sanam, Kawa, and Gebel Barkal;
for their construction we have textual evidence that King Taharqa brought in
craftsmen from Egypt (in the stela from year 6 of Taharqa at Kawa). The kings
of the Napatan period also had themselves buried under pyramids rather than
tumuli (fig. 12.5), first at el-Kurru and then at Nuri, with walls decorated with
traditional Egyptian funerary texts and accompanied by the equipment of an
Egyptian burial including shabtis, mummification equipment, and coffins.
Despite the superficially Egyptian appearance of these royal tombs, as at
Kerma a closer analysis of the objects’ archaeological context demonstrates
that many Egyptian objects were used in a non-Egyptian way. This indicates
that objects of Egyptian appearance were taking on new meanings in order
to function in a Nubian context. Menat amulets and alabaster vessels, both
Egyptian object classes in origin, were very prominent in Napatan royal buri-
als: menat amulets in particular seem to have played a crucial role in the
funerary ritual, with two placed on each step of the staircase descending to
the burial chamber. Yet neither menat amulets nor alabaster vessels were pres-
ent in Egyptian burials of the same time period, showing that the Nubian
use of Egyptian material was not emulating Egyptian models, but rather tak-
ing Egyptian source material and molding it for use in distinctively Nubian
25
FIGURE 12.6 A winged Egyptian goddess depicted on a golden “cylinder sheath” of King Aspelta,
buried at Nuri in Sudan c.580 BCE.
practices. Notably, winged female Egyptian goddesses remain an important

part of the Napatan pantheon, continuing the trend already seen in the Kerma
Period and New Kingdom (fig. 12.6).
While this change in royal religious practice in Nubia was going on, funer-
ary religion in Egypt was likewise undergoing transformation. The era of the
Twenty-fifth and Twenty-sixth Dynasties is renowned amongst Egyptologists
for its archaism, with items of burial equipment that had not been in use for
several centuries reintroduced into Egyptian tombs. One of the most notable
of these reintroductions was offering tables, intended to serve as a place for
libation that would sustain the soul of the deceased in the afterlife. Offering
tables are known from royal Nubian tombs at el-Kurru that pre-date Piankhy’s
invasion of Egypt, therefore representing one of the earliest forms of Egyptian
funerary practice to be adopted at el-Kurru. Tellingly, offering tables also
appear to be adopted in Nubia before they are reintroduced in Egypt. Offering
tables are not attested in Third Intermediate Period tombs, are known only
from Twenty-fifth Dynasty tombs in Egypt that belong to Nubian individuals,
and do not become widespread in Egypt until the Twenty-sixth Dynasty. The
reason for the popularity of the Egyptian offering table in Nubia may well be
26
because of its meaningfulness within native Nubian practice: libation to the

dead is an archaeologically well-attested phenomenon in Nubia, with upturned
bowls above hardened soil a common occurrence at Kerma graves. The earlier
appearance of the tables in Nubia than in Egypt, and the pattern of distribu-
tion in Egypt only in tombs with owners of Nubian origin during the Twenty-
fifth Dynasty before a wider adoption amongst Egyptians in the Twenty-sixth
Dynasty, also suggests that the traditional Nubian practice of libation to the
dead could account for offering tables’ reintroduction into the Egyptian funer-
ary record, despite the tables’ Egyptian appearance.
Many typological features of Egyptian objects in the later Napatan graves
at Nuri suggest that the two-way religious interaction shown by items such as
offering tables continued even after the Nubian kings left Egypt in the sev-
enth century BCE. The iconographic details of commonly occurring items in the
royal Nubian tombs such as shabtis, and the textual choice for certain objects
such as heart scarabs, change and develop in exact correspondence to the same
items in Egyptian tombs. The dynamic development of royal Napatan funerary
goods, keeping up with the “latest styles” in Egypt, shows the importance to the
Nubian kings of not relying on fossilized practices, but instead demonstrating
their continued contact with craftsmen and priests in Egypt.
Finally, the extensive non-royal cemetery evidence available to us from
Nubia in the mid-first millennium BCE shows that, again, religious interaction
between Egypt and Nubia was playing out mostly on a royal stage. This was
likely because of the role Egyptian material culture had in negotiating status
in Napatan society, just as it had in Kerma. The large non-royal cemetery at
Sanam shows that the degree of Egyptian material in non-royal tombs was far
less than in the royal graves and was restricted mostly to small, portable items
such as scarabs. Offering tables were also common, though non-royal examples
lacked explicit markers of Egyptianization found on royal specimens, such as
hieroglyphic inscriptions. Multiple types of tomb structures and burial posi-
tions were found in the graves at Sanam, of which only a small percentage—
extended bodies covered in bead nets—could be considered “Egyptianizing.”
The range of burial practices likely reflects the range of native religious prac-
tices that were followed by non-royal Nubians and demonstrates the lack of
religious interaction with Egypt at a less elite level in Nubia. Those items we
think of as “Egyptian” in non-elite tombs, such as offering tables, were items
that already fitted into native Nubian religious practice.
***
Interaction takes place not because of the cultural superiority of one civili-
zation over another but often in specific instances where two religious tradi-
tions have commonalities. The sphere of religious interaction between Egypt
and Nubia is heavily concentrated on the royal domain in Nubia, perhaps
because of the ongoing role in status expression that foreign material culture
27
had throughout Nubian history. Conversely, Nubian influence on Egyptian

religion has generally been assumed to be minimal, and restricted to dei-
ties and forms of the Egyptian New Kingdom temples that were adapted
for a local, Nubian audience. While the lack of textual evidence and poor
archaeological preservation hampers our knowledge of native Nubian prac-
tices and their relation to Egyptian activity in Nubia, emerging understand-
ings of changes in Twenty-fifth and Twenty-sixth Dynasty funerary religion
in Egypt suggest that the practices of Nubian kings may have been respon-
sible for more of the period’s “archaism” than has previously been admitted.
In any case, the ways in which Egyptian material culture and iconography
came to take on new meanings and functions in Nubian contexts show that
our traditional view of this religious interaction as “Egyptianization” of
Nubian practices is inaccurate. Instead we should reframe the exchange as
a “Nubianizing” of Egyptian material, in which religious items of Egyptian
appearance were repurposed to fit into a distinctly Nubian system of belief
and practice.
28
29
III }
Religious Interaction between Egypt and

the Aegean in the Second Millennium BCE
Nanno Marinatos
It is well-accepted fact that Egypt was the dominant high culture in the eastern
Mediterranean for almost three thousand years and that her influence reached
the Aegean already during the third millennium BCE. However, the Egyptian
impact was not equally strong during all periods of history. It depended on
various factors, of which the level of political unity within Egypt, the stability
of institutions in Crete, and the compatibility of religious ideas as conceived
by the ruling dynasties are important. If these factors are taken into consider-
ation, it is no great wonder that the peak of Egypto-Minoan contacts coincided
with two powerful dynasties in Egypt, the twelfth and the eighteenth; the corre-
sponding periods are important also for the palace at Knossos, since they mark
its foundation and expansion: there is thus a correlation between Egyptianizing
features in Cretan art and religion and strong kingship in both lands.
What conclusions may we draw from this? It will be suggested that a visual
and religious vocabulary that included features common to both cultures was
created early on; and that such a visual vocabulary would have been a useful
tool for inter-state diplomacy. A “club of great powers,” as one scholar has
put it, needs a language of communication even on the religious level (van de
Mieroop 2003, pp. 121–40).
That religion was used for international diplomacy is made clear in the
Amarna correspondence where we learn that statuettes of gods were trans-
ferred from one royal court to the next. The Mitanni king Tushratta sent his
daughter as a bride to pharaoh Amenhotep IV together with an image of the
Hurrian-Hittite goddess Shauska. It is reported in the letter that the goddess
said: “I wish to go to Egypt, a country that I love, and then return” (EA 23;
Moran 1987, p. 61). Conversely, we learn from another letter that Aman (that
is, Amun) was asked to bless Tushratta with good fortune (EA 20; Moran 1987,
229
230
230 { Nanno Marinatos
p. 48). It is clear that the gods of Mitanni were perceived as having the power
to bless the people of Egypt and vice versa.
Of course, a foreign religious element may also be an impediment to state
policy, in which case a king may choose to isolate himself from the cult prac-
tices and symbols of his neighbors and to claim divine support for his decision.
In the Book of Kings, God warns his favorite king Solomon not to accept other
gods. “The Lord was angry with Solomon because he not only married many
foreign wives but followed their gods” (1 Kings 11:5–9; Graf 2004, pp. 3–16 at
6). Religious osmosis, then, is not to be taken for granted but depends on the
tone of the political climate, on the one hand, and personal contacts between
royal houses, on the other.
The question may arise: do we have any evidence regarding the relation
of Egyptian pharaohs and Cretan kings? Indeed, we do. A statuette of an
Egyptian official inscribed with the name “User” (Twelfth or early Thirteenth
Dynasty, Middle Minoan II B stratum) was found by Arthur Evans at Knossos.
User may have visited the Knossian king and may have left his likeness as a gift
and a remembrance of his visit. If this is indeed what happened, it is almost
certain that User brought with him other precious objects, among which may
have been amulets and symbols of protective divinities.
Another royal contact between Egypt and Crete occurred when the Hyksos
pharaoh Khayan (Khyan) of the Second Intermediate Period (equivalent to
Middle Minoan III) was in power. Note that he was a powerful king who suc-
cessfully reunited Egypt, and for this reason it is reasonable to suppose that he
sought relations with allies abroad, especially a naval power such as Knossos.
Khayan sent his Knossian colleague a stone vase inscribed with his cartouche, a
personal gift that no doubt represents an act of good will and possibly cemented
an agreement between the two royal houses. Did Khayan send many other gifts
besides, including religious objects? This is, of course, pure speculation. And
yet there is very strong evidence that the island was receptive to Egyptian reli-
gious ideas during the First as well as the Second Palace Periods, and we shall
return to this topic shortly.
But first we must note that ideas are not likely to travel through the mere
exchange of objects, or trade. Religious syncretism becomes most easily embed-
ded in a tradition when there is official recognition of foreign deities. We may
imagine various acts of performance encouraged and organized by the pal-
aces: song, dance, processions, and recitals of mythical texts. Many of these
would have been carried out in the courts, and as I have argued elsewhere, the
Minoan king and his queen would have performed the role of high priests, a
role that is well paralleled in Hittite and Egyptian societies.
This is a useful frame to problematize Cretan religion and its relation to
Egyptian but what is the actual evidence? The most striking proof that for-
eign ideas were accepted on the level of official religion is the incorporation
of Egyptian ideograms and pictograms in the hieroglyphic script of the First
231
Religious Interconnections: Egypt and the Aegean } 231
FIGURE 12.7 Sacral Knot.
Palace Period. Consider first the Egyptian ankh. We know that it signifies “life”
in Egypt, but its form is too abstract to be comprehended without explication.
It is therefore more than likely that the meaning of the sign was transferred
along with its form. During the Second Palace period, a fetish of religious sig-
nificance was developed by the Minoans, the so-called sacral knot (fig. 12.7). It
is a folded piece of cloth that forms a loop at the top and either stands on its
own or constitutes an adornment of royal and priestly garments. It also bears a
resemblance to the Egyptian fetish known as “knot of Isis” or “blood of Isis”
(pl. 9); on the basis of this, it seems quite certain that Egyptian and Minoan
ideas converged both during the Twelfth and during the Eighteenth Dynasties.
Another Minoan hieroglyph of the First Palace Period is likely to have
derived from Egypt: the sign of the horizon, the akhet (fig. 12.8). Oddly enough,
Evans did not recognize the Minoan sign as such and interpreted it instead as
the horns of a bull. This explanation has prevailed in the literature and has sent
many researchers in the wrong direction to look for concepts of bull-worship
or sacrifice. And yet, the similarity between the Minoan and Egyptian sign is
too striking for coincidence. Besides, if the so-called sacral horns represent the
twin peaks of the horizon, this might explain why the Minoan objects (made
23
FIGURE 12.8 The sign of the two mountains of the horizon: a. Minoan; b. Egyptian.
FIGURE 12.9 Vase from Pseira, Crete.
of stone or clay) were consistently placed high up, on top of buildings. As in

Egypt, Minoan sacred buildings represent aspects of the cosmos, and what is
high up is considered to be close to the sky. The point cannot be belabored here
any further, but suffice it to say that it is not just the similarity of form between
the Minoan and Egyptian signs that is suggestive but also their location.
Having just argued that the so-called sacred horns in Minoan art and reli-
gion represent the Egyptian idea of the horizon akhet, I will admit that Evans
had also seen something very important when he spoke of sacral horns, because
although the twin peaks are not horns (for reasons delineated above), it is nev-
ertheless true that the U-shape of the Egyptian akhet resembles the horns of
an ox. It is also true that the head of the ox plays a role in Minoan religious
symbolism. Its Egyptian origins will become evident, but first we must look at
some examples of animal heads in Minoan art and reflect on their meaning.
On a vase from Pseira, dating to Late Minoan I (early Eighteenth Dynasty),
the main scene shows a series of bovine heads among olive sprays (fig. 12.9).
In between the horns of each animal head is a double ax, the emblem of the
Minoan divinity. That this scene is symbolic, rather than naturalistic, cannot
be doubted. Its most stunning feature is the dual identity of the double ax as an
object and a lily plant simultaneously. But also the ox head deserves attention,
since it is obvious that it could not represent the head of a sacrificed animal
23
in the above scene: its eyes are wide open and it bears the double ax and lily
between its horns. A clue as to its significance is supplied by a scene on a gold
ring of Cretan origin found in the Peloponnese, at Vapheio. A ritual takes place
near a sacred tree; in the center is a dancing woman performing a twirl, and,
above her, we see the ox head. Whatever our interpretation of the ritual by the
tree (this author has suggested an ecstatic dance leading to prophetic visions),
the animal head above the dancing female requires some explanation. And
there is no way to escape the conclusion that the ox head is a divine sign in
heaven, since next to it we see a shooting star (or comet) as well as the sacral
knot/ankh. It will be argued next that the ox head has Egyptian origins and
refers to the divine cow or bull in heaven.
Since the Pyramid Age, the Egyptians believed that a cow goddess of the
flood, Mehet-Weret, gave birth to the sun god and carried the disk as a crown
between her horns. She eventually assimilated with Neith, Hathor, and Isis dur-
ing the Eighteenth Dynasty. Hathor bears the solar disk between her horns,
and so does the bull of Re. Is this iconographical scheme not reminiscent of the
Minoan ox head bearing the divine emblem of the double ax on the Pseira vase
(fig. 12.9)? If so, this motif bears the ineluctable stamp of Egyptian religion.
Consider next a glyptic scene on a seal impression from Zakros where a ram’s
head is flanked by two birds (a sign of the heavenly realm); above the head is a
sacred object that looks like a budding pair of horns; above the latter is a solar
disk that constitutes the center of the composition (fig. 12.10). Because of its
cryptic nature, this strange iconography cannot be read without decipherment.
Behind its conception is Egyptian astral theology because the ram and the sun
disk are associated in Egyptian religious iconography where a ram deity carries
the solar disk between his horns and embodies the nocturnal manifestation of
FIGURE 12.10 Seal impression from Zakros.

234
FIGURE 12.11 Ram-headed deity from KV 14, W. Thebes.
Re as Osiris. One example of this ram deity is furnished by tomb KV 14 (origi-

nally built for the last ruler of the Nineteenth Dynasty, Queen Tausret); it takes
the form of a creature, a bird with spread wings and a ram’s head (fig. 12.11).
The demon gives rise to the sun disk, the birth of which is represented above
its horns taking several guises as a child, a scarab, and as a disk. The associa-
tion of the ram’s head with the sun disk cannot be a coincidence in both the
religions of Crete and Egypt; we can best explain it by applying Egyptian solar
ideas to the Minoan visual vocabulary.
Indeed, a lot more becomes understandable in this fashion. We may bet-
ter understand why two lions, or possibly dogs, flank and guard the sun disk
on a seal from Knossos (Corpus der minoischen und mykenischen Siegel II
8, 326); the composition mirrors the Egyptian lions that guard the akhet in
Egyptian art.
Consider also the Minoan hybrid creature commonly known as “the
Minoan genius” in Minoan iconography. It is clearly inspired by the Egyptian
goddess Taweret and was introduced in this form to Crete already during the
First Palace period, at about the time of the Twelfth Dynasty. At first, this
Cretan demon had an Egyptian form but later it changed, as the work of Judith
Weingarten has shown. During the era of the New Palaces, corresponding to
the early Eighteenth Dynasty, it becomes transformed into a lion, and greater
emphasis is placed on his (or her) predatorial aspect. Still, Egyptian ideas lin-
ger behind the imagery. And yet, there is also convergence of ideas during the
Eighteenth Dynasty. A striking example is Taweret as Isis or rrt on the ceilings
of Theban tombs (Tharwas [TT 232], Senenmut [TT 71], and Sety I [KV 17]).
235
Her role there is to control the Sethian foreleg of a bull, the constellation of
the Big Dipper. The foreleg of Seth in the northern sky is tied by a chain to
two mooring posts of flint, and Taweret/Isis holds the chain, ensuring that
the universe remains in good order. The imagery persists into Ptolemaic times
(fig. 12.12a). We find precisely the same astral context of the Minoan genius on
a seal from Knossos contemporary to the Eighteenth Dynasty (fig. 12.12b). He
is carrying a convoluted deer on his shoulders, a form that may be a reference to
a constellation because its contorted position is artificial. Be that as it may, the
FIGURE 12.12a Taweret controlling the leg of Seth. Ceiling of the temple of Isis at Philae;
Ptolemaic Period.
FIGURE 12.12b Minoan seal now in Berlin.

236
important point is that the genius is depicted among the stars and is therefore
certainly a reference to the nocturnal sky.
A further insight into Egypto-Minoan relations has been brought about by
the excavations of Manfred Bietak at Tell el-Dab’a in the Egyptian Nile Delta,
where a palace of the time of Thutmose III or Hatshepsut has been brought
to light. The big surprise of this excavation was that parts of the palace were
decorated with Minoan murals. Skepticism regarding the style of the frescoes
as products of local or Levantine artists has been expressed but is not justi-
fied: their technique (string impressions on the still wet plaster, for example)
and the semantic value of their motifs (such as a Minoan seal worn around the
wrist of a bull-grappler) betray the genuinely Minoan pedigree of the painters.
Some of the fragments depict processions, acrobats within a palm grove, bull-
leaping, and predatory chase (leopards and lions hunting bulls and deer). But
there is also a purely Minoan symbol among the murals that merits our atten-
tion because it reveals how a religious motif was internationally recognizable.
I am referring to a frieze of half rosettes painted below the bull-leaping and -
grappling scene at Tell el-Dab’a. Some viewers may have known that the frieze
of half rosettes replicated the stone frieze of the west façade of the palace of
Knossos; others may have recognized that the rosette is not unique to Knossos
but an international emblem shared by Egyptian, Anatolian, and Syrian iconog-
raphy. Here is one example from Egypt: a rosette, representing the sun, is shown
between the horns of a Hathor cow head in a ceiling painting of Amenhotep III
at Malkata. Thus, the half-rosette frieze of the Tell el-Dab’a taureador painting
illustrates the commonality of symbols and supports the hypothesis that the
palaces played a vital role in the dissemination of religious ideas.
Conclusion: The Impact of Egyptian Solar Theology

on Minoan Crete
Egyptian pictograms and ideograms are of great importance for a new appre-
ciation of Minoan religious concepts. It has been argued here, first, that the
transmission happened on the level of literate elites and the palace and not
on the popular level; second, that the affinities between Minoan and Egyptian
religion were based on concepts of solar mythology and imagery. The ankh,
the akhet (twin mountain of the horizon), the ox head bearing the solar disk or
double ax, the ram’s head, the twin lions or dogs as guardians of the sun disk,
the Minoan genius/Taweret, and the Minoan half rosette have been considered
as part of this vocabulary. Most of these signs appear in Minoan Crete already
during the era of the First Palaces, some taking the form of hieroglyphs.
For lack of space, the rest of the Minoan motifs with obvious Egyptian origins
will receive only a short mention. The list is nevertheless impressive: griffin, cat,
237
monkey, cow and calf, palm, papyrus, reeds, rosette, wadj plant. Interestingly
enough all these motifs have some connection with solar religion.
The same phenomenon, the spread of Egyptian solar cult, is attested in
Syria on seals dating to the period of the Twelfth Dynasty (corresponding to
the Middle Bronze Age in Syria). They attest to a rich visual vocabulary of
Egyptianizing religious motifs, and the list is long: winged sun disk, rosette,
ankh, Hathor-or Isis-type goddess, Horus-type falcon god, lions, griffins,
sphinxes, palm trees topped with rosette. Also demonic creatures, similar to
Bes or Taweret, make their appearance at that time. Is it a coincidence that the
aforementioned motifs penetrate Crete at about the same time? Or is it rather
the case that Egyptian influences were disseminated from one royal house to the
next especially during the Twelfth Dynasty? In any case the religious influence
of Egypt in the entire region cannot be doubted.
238
239
SECTION V }
Events
240
241
13 }
Violence in Earth, Water, and Sky

GEOLOGICAL HAZARDS
James A. Harrell
Ancient Egypt was a land affected by several geological hazards. Chief among
these were earthquakes and Nile floods, while wadi flash floods and landslides
were secondary threats. Two other hazards, volcanic eruptions and meteorite
impacts, only rarely touched Egypt. The Egyptians were not just passive observ-
ers or victims of these natural forces, but at times were proactive in mitigating
their effects by either building to withstand them or locating their structures
out of harm’s way. Surviving inscriptions and ruins provide testimony to the
destructive power of these forces and also to the ancient Egyptians’ attempts to
cope with them. A further understanding of what they experienced is gained by
studying the effects of geological hazards on modern Egypt.
Earthquakes
Egypt is located in a seismically active part of the world. For over a century,
since instrumental readings have been made, hardly a year has passed with-
out an earthquake being felt somewhere in the country, and about once every
decade on average one of these earthquakes did serious damage. It was prob-
ably no different in ancient Egypt.
Earthquakes are caused by sudden slippage along faults within the
lithosphere— that part of the Earth consisting of the crust and upper-
most mantle. These movements are ultimately the result of plate tectonic
processes. Tectonic plates are vast slabs of lithosphere that encapsulate the
Earth with each plate moving in a different direction and at a different rate
as dictated by the convection currents in the deeper mantle beneath it. The
plates interact along their boundaries with any two adjoining plates either
241
24
242 { James A. Harrell
pulling apart with new oceanic crust created between them (the rift zones),
colliding with one plate subducted under (overridden by) the other, or slid-
ing past each other along transform faults. Intense seismicity and volcanism
are associated with the first two boundary types, and seismicity alone char-
acterizes the third.
Egypt sits atop the African plate at its northeast corner, and here it is bor-
dered by two tectonic boundaries. To the east there is the Red Sea rift pushing
the African and Arabian plates apart and thereby creating the Red Sea along
with its two northern extensions, the Gulf of Suez to the west and the Gulf of
Aqaba to the east. The latter rift branch continues into the Dead Sea rift valley
between Israel and Jordan. To the north of Egypt, along a front spanning the
entire east–west breadth of the Mediterranean Sea, the African plate is collid-
ing with and being subducted by the Eurasian plate. The most active part of
this collision zone nearest to Egypt is the so-called Hellenic (Island) Arc in the
southern Aegean Sea between Greece and Turkey.
Earthquakes that strike Egypt and cause significant damage usually mea-
sure 5 or more on the logarithmic magnitude scale. Although this scale is open
ended, magnitudes over 9 are rare. The stronger seismic events can have an
epicenter—the place on the Earth’s surface above the earthquake’s focus or
point of origin—either outside the country or within it. In general, the farther
the epicenter or the greater the focal depth, the more powerful an earthquake
needs to be in order for it to cause the same amount of damage as a closer
or shallower earthquake of lesser magnitude. Outside of Egypt most earth-
quakes originate in three regions: the northern Red Sea-southern Gulf of Suez,
the Gulf of Aqaba-Dead Sea Valley, and the Aegean Sea’s Hellenic Arc, with
the largest earthquakes (over magnitude 7) coming from the latter region. The
majority of earthquakes with an epicenter inside Egypt occur in the north-
east corner of the country, a zone roughly centered on Cairo that includes the
Nile Delta, the Eastern Desert between the Delta and Gulf of Suez, and the
Fayum Depression. These seisms and others with epicenters farther south in
Egypt occur along shallow crustal faults within the African plate that are acti-
vated by this plate’s movement. Such intraplate earthquakes are typically less
powerful than those associated with plate boundaries, and in Egypt they rarely
have magnitudes exceeding 5.5. One such earthquake, with a 5.2 magnitude,
occurred on October 12, 1992 and had an epicenter about 15 km south of cen-
tral Cairo. It was felt as far north as Alexandria and Port Said and as far south
as Assiut, with the serious damage (collapsed and broken buildings) in a region
bounded by Zigazig to the north, Beni Suef to the south, and El Fayum to the
west. In Cairo, where the destruction was greatest, 350 buildings collapsed and
another 9,000 were irreparably broken, and 545 people were killed with 6,512
more injured. Although of lower magnitude, such intraplate earthquakes can
be as much or even more damaging within Egypt than the stronger but more
distant plate-boundary earthquakes.
243
Events: Geological Hazards } 243
Damage from earthquakes comes from ground shaking, but the intensity
of this phenomenon depends on the nature of the ground with the shaking
much greater in unconsolidated sediment than in solid bedrock. Shaking brings
down rigid structures directly and also triggers other destructive processes—
landslides from destabilization of sloping ground, liquefaction from fluidiza-
tion of water-saturated sediment, and differential ground settling from uneven
sediment compaction. Less commonly, fault rupture breaks and offsets the
ground surface. Seismic sea waves or tsunamis are associated with earthquakes
that originate along submarine faults where the seafloor (and hence also the
overlying water column) is vertically displaced along the fault. Truly destructive
tsunamis require especially large displacements and these are typically accom-
panied by earthquakes with magnitudes over 7.5. For Egypt, such massive seis-
mic events are limited to the Hellenic Arc, and so it is only the Mediterranean
coast that is threatened by tsunamis. Egypt’s north coast is also exposed to the
smaller tsunamis produced by earthquake-induced submarine landslides.
Many temples and other built structures throughout Egypt were probably
damaged by earthquakes during the Dynastic Period, but so far this has been
documented only for Dahshur and Thebes. The evidence at Dahshur includes a
mud-brick wall in the Senwosret III complex that was sheared off 1.7 m above
the courtyard level, limestone casing walls in the mastabas of Khnumhotep and
Nebit that were toppled en masse, and the collapsed underground chambers in
the Amenemhat III pyramid. This damage may have occurred during the reign
of Amenemhat III, as suggested by the extensive small-scale patch-up work
found in Twelfth Dynasty monuments at both Dahshur and el-Lisht. The Qasr
el-Sagha temple in the northern Fayum desert, an unfinished Twelfth Dynasty
structure, shows earthquake damage (block rotation) that is perhaps contempo-
raneous with the destruction at Dahshur 55 km to the northeast (fig. 13.1). At
Thebes the evidence for earthquakes is even more compelling: through-cutting
fractures in colossal statues, large stone blocks, and adjoining smaller blocks;
colossal statues and large stelae falling in the same direction; rotation of stone
blocks in the same direction; wave-like bends in formerly straight masonry
walls; and sediment layers deformed by liquefaction beneath stone monuments.
One or more of these indicators have been observed in mortuary temples of
the Eighteenth through Twentieth Dynasties, including those of Thutmose III
(valley temple), Thutmose IV, Amenhotep III (Kom el-Hetan; fig. 13.2), Sety I,
Ramesses II (Ramesseum), and Ramesses III (Medinet Habu). The same kind
of damage is seen on the east bank in the Luxor and Karnak temples. Those
monuments suffering extensive collapse became quarries for stone used in new
building projects. This damage was caused either by a single earthquake some-
time after the reign of Ramesses III (Twentieth Dynasty) or possibly by both
this earthquake and an earlier one during the reign of Merenptah (Nineteenth
Dynasty). The source of the earthquake(s) is unknown, but it has been plau-
sibly suggested that it is the fault just east of the Theban escarpment (Gebel
24
FIGURE 13.1 Rotated block probably caused by an earthquake in the unfinished Twelfth Dynasty
sandstone temple of Qasr el-Sagha in the northern Fayum Desert.
Qurna) that extends northeastward from el-Rizeiqat through the Luxor area to
Qena. This fault is certainly seismically active and did produce a minor earth-
quake in October 1926.
Ancient Egyptians attributed earthquakes to the laughter of Geb,
the Earth god, as for example in Utterance 511 from a late Fifth Dynasty
Pyramid Text (§ 1150), where the word for earthquake is nhnh ꝫ. Earthquakes
were also referred to by other names, including nwr-t ꝫ and mnmn. The earliest
ancient text describing the effects of an earthquake in Egypt is that of Strabo
(Geography 17.1.46), who reported that the northern of the two Memnon
Colossi in Thebes (the colossal statues of Amenhotep III flanking the entrance
to his mortuary temple, Kom el-Hetan) partially collapsed during an earth-
quake sometime prior to his arrival in Egypt about 25 BCE. It is commonly
claimed, but without supporting evidence, that this event occurred in 27 BCE. It
is more likely the damage was done by the same earthquake that brought down
much of the rest of Kom el-Hetan sometime during or shortly after the New
Kingdom. The broken colossus was repaired during the Roman period and
this is conventionally thought to have occurred during the reign of Septimius
Severus (fig. 13.2).
Late classical writers describe a massive tsunami that occurred on July 21,
365 CE. This was spawned by an earthquake in the Hellenic Arc and struck
coastlines around the eastern Mediterranean, including Egypt. The earliest
of these writers, Ammianus Marcellinus (325/330 to after 391 CE) either wit-
nessed this event or heard about it from people who did. In his historical work
Events (26.10.15–18), Marcellinus provides a remarkably detailed and accurate
245
FIGURE 13.2 The northern Memnon Colossus at Kom el-Hetan, showing the Roman repair of
earthquake damage (the cut and fitted blocks in the torso) to the originally monolithic silicified
sandstone (quartzite) statue of Amenhotep III.
246
account of the tsunami as it approached the shore, surged over it, and then con-
tinued inland. In Alexandria, Egypt, he says the tsunami deposited boats on top
of buildings. Another, slightly later account of this same event and its effects on
the Nile Delta is given by John Cassian (360–435 CE; Conferences 11.3.1), who
reports the wave destroyed many villages and turned once fertile lands into salt
marshes. Other large earthquake-generated tsunamis must have struck Egypt’s
Mediterranean coast during the Dynastic Period, although in comparison to
365 CE there would have been fewer settlements and people at risk.
The ancient Egyptians understood the dangers posed by earthquakes and
so often re-enforced their stone structures with clamps (or cramps) and other
measures. Dovetail clamps were widely used throughout the Dynastic Period
but even more extensively during Greco-Roman times. The clamps were made
of wood or occasionally bronze, and placed in sunken recesses (mortises)
carved into the tops of adjoining blocks (fig. 13.3). Less commonly, and appar-
ently only during the Old Kingdom, blocks were also connected vertically with
stone dowels set in mortises cut into the blocks’ tops and bottoms. Also dur-
ing the Old Kingdom, stone blocks were sometimes held in place by gypsum
mortar or mortise-and-tenon cuts where the blocks joined. Such practices also
helped to stabilize walls during differential settling of the foundations, a prob-
lem affecting structures built on compactible ground. It is not known if the use
FIGURE 13.3 Wooden dovetail clamp joining two sandstone blocks in the Eighteenth Dynasty Montu
temple at Karnak. Length of the exposed part of the clamp is 24 cm.
247
of block connectors arose primarily from a concern with such settling or with
earthquakes, although the latter were certainly the greater threat to structural
integrity. Dovetail clamps were also sometimes used to repair earthquake dam-
age, as seen in one of the colossal statues of Ramesses II in front of the first
pylon at Luxor temple. Here clamps (now missing) were placed across through-
cutting fractures in order to hold the statue together.
Nile Floods
It is normal for a river to flood during the rainy season in its headwaters region.
In the case of the Nile River in Egypt, floodwaters reach their highest levels
in August and September in response to monsoonal rains in the Ethiopian
Highlands. The annual flood was of enormous benefit to ancient Egypt in
that it kept the Nile floodplain fertile with new deposits of clay and silt, and
it supplied the water that allowed crops to flourish. Whenever the Nile flood
rose above its normal range, however, it became more detrimental than ben-
eficial. At such times rampant floodwaters washed away field canals and dikes,
drowned livestock, and inundated settlements along with their food stores and
seed stocks. The additional water left standing on the fields delayed planting
and so reduced harvests. Exceptionally low Nile flood levels were also disas-
trous, with the croplands left dry or insufficiently wetted and the resulting crop
failures leading to widespread starvation.
Another aspect of the Nile flood is avulsion, the large-scale shifting of
a river course during flooding. As floodwaters rise above a river’s channel
banks and spread out across the adjoining floodplain, the main body of the
flow will seek the steepest gradient—the path providing the greatest elevation
drop per unit of distance traveled. Along stretches where the Nile follows
a meandering course, avulsion causes the river to cut across the neck of a
meander loop because of the gradient advantage provided by this shorter,
more direct course. As a consequence, a potentially large tract of land along
one bank of the river either becomes an island or is joined to the opposite
bank once the old and now abandoned channel dries up and fills in with
sediment.
The effects of avulsion are more spectacular (and disastrous) in the Nile
Delta. This great alluvial deposit was created by the Nile River dumping its
sediment load into the Mediterranean Sea. The Delta’s fan-like shape is the
byproduct of the constant lateral shifting of the river’s distributary channels.
Two characteristics of the delta plain promote such channel movements: first,
the nearly flat seaward-sloping topography; and second, the continual but
uneven subsidence of the surface, especially along the delta’s seaward sector,
due to both isostatic depression of the underlying crust and sediment compac-
tion. Compaction has the greater effect on surface elevations and results from
248
the weight of the upper sediment layers compressing and simultaneously expel-
ling pore water from the lower layers in a process referred to as autocompac-
tion. Ground shaking during earthquakes can cause additional compaction.
Surface gradients are constantly changing as a result of delta subsidence, and
so floodwaters periodically find new, more advantageous courses. In this way,
avulsion causes old distributary channels to be abandoned and new ones to be
formed. Today the Nile Delta has only two active channels, the Rosetta to the
west and the Damietta to the east, but in past there were more channels flow-
ing across other parts of the Delta. Classical writers (Herodotus, History 2.17;
Strabo, Geography 17.1.4; and Pliny the Elder, Natural History 5.11.64) men-
tion up to seven active distributaries, with the Canopic and Pelusiac the most
important ones. Many ancient cities in the Nile Delta were originally built along
active channels that were later left dry by the Nile River. For example, two of
the greatest of these cities, the Ramesside Piramesse (near modern Qantir) and
the adjoining Hyksos Avaris (modern Tell el-Dab’a) are located on the now
defunct Pelusiac branch of the Nile.
Flow velocities in a river are highest along the outside edge of a channel bend
and become more erosive as they increase during floods. It is thus at these times
that river channels migrate laterally by eroding floodplain sediments at the out-
side of bends and then redepositing them on the inside, where flow velocities are
at a minimum. The Kom Ombo temple of Ptolemaic and Roman age is located
on a high bluff on the outside of a large bend in the Nile. As a consequence,
undercutting by the river removed a portion of this temple’s forecourt along
with possibly other parts of the temple complex. Another Ptolemaic-Roman
temple near Qau el-Kebir (ancient Antaeopolis), also located on the outside
of a former river bend, was completely swept away during a flood in 1821. It is
likely that other temples were similarly damaged or destroyed by flood erosion
during the Dynastic Period.
The Egyptians tried to protect at least some of their temples from inunda-
tion and erosion accompanying high floods. For example, two ancient texts
refer to a flood wall or embankment that was built around Luxor temple during
the reign of Thutmose III (Eighteenth Dynasty). The earliest of these texts is
the now-destroyed stela of Smendes (Twenty-first Dynasty) in the el-Dibabiya
limestone quarry across the Nile from el-Gebelein. It says the king quarried
limestone to repair this barrier after, apparently, it had sustained flood dam-
age. Further repairs, again after a flood, are reported in an inscription in Luxor
temple from the reign of Osorkon III (Twenty-second Dynasty; not Osorkon
II as commonly stated in earlier literature). The level of the same flood event
referred to in Osorkon III’s text was marked on Karnak temple’s west-side
quay (a stone river wall with stairways and boat ramps), where it is the sec-
ond highest of the forty-five flood levels recorded during the Twenty-second to
Twenty-sixth Dynasties. As high as it was, this flood was still below the floor of
249
FIGURE 13.4 Multiple mortises for dovetail clamps in sandstone blocks of the Late Period quay on the
west side of Karnak temple. Scale is 30 cm long.
Karnak temple but would have easily swamped the much lower Luxor temple.
The sandstone blocks in the Karnak quay are held in place by dovetail clamps
along their adjoining sides (fig. 13.4), and although this offered protection from
earthquakes, the main purpose of the clamps was probably to reinforce the
quay against river erosion.
250
Wadi Flash Floods
Egypt is an arid land where it rains infrequently. When it does rain, it usually
comes as torrential downpours of short duration. This precipitation has essen-
tially no effect on the level of the Nile River, but it can cause flash floods in the
dry desert valleys (wadis) leading to the Nile. Such flooding results from rain-
water coming down faster than it can infiltrate into the ground, and so much
of it is converted to runoff. Floodwaters gather quickly and arrive at the end
of a wadi with little or no warning. These storms are typically local in extent,
but occasionally affect large regions. A storm of the latter type occurred during
November 1–2, 1994, and it struck most of Egypt north of Aswan and pro-
gressed across the Sinai Peninsula into Israel. It produced heavy rains and strong
winds, and locally hail and sandstorms. Destructive flash floods were unleashed
with most of the reported damage in wadis entering the Nile Valley between
Luxor and Assiut. At Luxor, for example, a flood coming down Wadi el-Muluk
(Valley of the Kings) was up to 2 m deep. It invaded many of the royal tombs
and swept away much of the mud brick wall around the Sety I temple along
with over one hundred houses in its path. Such storms would have occurred
occasionally in ancient Egypt, and it is probably one of these that is referred to
in the so-called Tempest Stela of Ahmose. This stela was erected in Thebes dur-
ing Ahmose’s reign sometime before his 22nd year. Its broken pieces were found
by excavators among the rubble fill in the third pylon at Karnak temple. The
stela’s text mentions a rainstorm accompanied by a dark, thunderous sky and a
flood that swept away houses and people. It says this event occurred across the
“Two Lands,” meaning both Upper and Lower Egypt, although this could be
an exaggeration of the sort found in many royal proclamations. In a later part
of the text, the king promises to repair tombs and temples, but it is not clear
whether this is a reference to flood damage or decay from years of neglect. This
ancient tempest with its flash flooding sounds very much like the 1994 storm in
Egypt. This was a purely meteorological phenomenon, and yet some scholars
have interpreted the stela as describing a storm that was the byproduct of a
volcanic eruption in the southern Aegean Sea (see below).
In at least one instance ancient Egyptians tried to protect themselves from
wadi flash floods. This is a flood-control dam of the Third or Fourth Dynasty
in Wadi Garawi, about 10 km southeast of Helwan, and known today by its
Arabic name, Sadd el-Kafara. It is not known what the dam was protecting far-
ther down the wadi. Only the two ends of this wadi-spanning barrier remain,
but originally it was about 113 m long and up to 14 m high. Its sediment-fill
core was faced on both sides with well-cut blocks of limestone (fig. 13.5). The
fact that its central portion has been washed away indicates that at some point
the dam failed due to floodwaters either overtopping it or, more likely, seep-
ing through it and internally eroding the fill. Conceivably, the dam was first
251
FIGURE 13.5 The north end of Sadd el-Kafara, an early Old Kingdom flood-control dam in Wadi
Garawi, near Helwan. The view is down the wadi, looking at the upstream side of the dam.
weakened by an earthquake, with this leading to failure when the next major
flood came.
Landslides
The Nile Valley is bordered by cliffs of sandstone between the second cataract
in northern Sudan and Esna in southern Egypt and then by limestone cliffs
from Esna north to Cairo. Such steep slopes are inherently unstable and so
prone to rock falls, a type of landslide involving the free fall of loose rock
fragments. To the extent that the Egyptians built their homes and temples at
the foot of cliffs, they were exposed to this kind of hazard. Such is the case
for the three temples at Deir el-Bahri in Thebes (those of Mentuhotep II,
Thutmose III, and Hatshepsut), which are located at the foot of a 100 m-high
limestone cliff and consequently have suffered from rock falls. No graffiti or
votive objects in the Thutmose III temple post-date the late Twentieth Dynasty,
and after this dynasty there is evidence—abandoned tools and recut blocks—
of the Mentuhotep II temple being quarried for its stone. Taken together, these
observations suggest that both monuments were destroyed by a rock fall at the
end of the Ramesside period.
Along the Nile between Esna and Qena, the limestone forming the valley
walls is underlain by a thick rock formation known as the Esna Shale. This
25
rock is a structurally weak material, and this is largely because of its high clay
mineral content. As a consequence, the overlying limestone cliffs have failed
in many places in another kind of landslide known as a slump or rotational
slide, where the rock moves downslope as a massive block that rotates in the
opposite direction in which it slides. The outstanding example of this phe-
nomenon is again at Thebes. Here there is a series of low hills just east of the
Theban escarpment, with the most prominent of these being Qurnet Murai
and Sheikh Abd el-Qurna, both of which host numerous non-royal tombs.
These hills are huge, prehistoric slump blocks that slid off the escarpment to
the west (fig. 13.6). Although pre-dating the tombs and temples in the area,
these slumps have continued their slow, intermittent downslope movement dur-
ing the Dynastic Period and later, as indicated by displacements along fractures
within some of the tombs (pl. 10).
Rock falls, slumps, and other kinds of landslides can occur without any
obvious triggering event, but most are the result of some destabilizing incident.
Ground shaking during earthquakes always produces landslides and especially
rock falls. The Theban slumps, however, were probably caused by heavy rain-
fall. The sudden addition of large amounts of water to the limestone and espe-
cially the underlying shale weakened slopes through the added weight of the
infiltrated water, the increased pore water pressure along fractures, and the loss
of cohesion in the clay (a hydrophilic mineral that readily absorbs water).
FIGURE 13.6 The Sheikh Abd el-Qurna slump block with the Theban escarpment, from which it slid,
at left.
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Volcanic Eruptions
There are no volcanoes in Egypt. There are, however, many volcanic deposits,
but the most recent of these, lava flows from fissure eruptions, date to about
15 million years ago. Active volcanism (eruptions during the last 10,000 years)
does occur in the regions surrounding Egypt: the Aegean’s Hellenic Arc between
Greece and Turkey, western and central Turkey, northwestern and southwest-
ern Syria, the west side of the Arabian Peninsula in Saudi Arabia and Yemen,
the southern Red Sea, Eritrea, eastern Ethiopia, western and northeastern
Sudan, and south-central Libya. Ancient Egyptians were probably aware of
volcanic eruptions, and those involved in maritime trade may have witnessed
them on their voyages through the southern Red Sea to Punt, or to Greece and
Crete on the Aegean Sea.
Given the prevailing wind directions in the Middle East, the only volca-
nic eruptions with the potential of directly affecting Egypt, and then only
peripherally, are those in the Hellenic Arc. The largest known eruption in this
region and the only eruption anywhere with a documented effect on Dynastic
Egypt occurred on the Greek island of Thera (modern Santorini) sometime
in the middle of the second millennium BCE. Geological evidence supports a
date in the early part of this interval (corresponding to Egypt’s early Second
Intermediate Period), whereas archaeological evidence favors the later dating
(during the early Eighteenth Dynasty). This event is commonly referred to as
the “Minoan eruption” because of its supposed catastrophic effects on Crete’s
Minoan civilization. Its adverse regional effects were limited to two phenom-
ena: air-borne volcanic ash and coastal tsunami waves. At the time of the
eruption, prevailing westerly winds carried the ash plume toward Turkey, but
its southern edge passed over northern Egypt, where up to 0.5 cm of ash fell to
the ground. This was probably not a disaster for people living in Lower Egypt,
merely a gritty inconvenience. It would have been harmful, however, to graz-
ing livestock if they ingested the ash, which consists of fine shards of glass.
Egyptians initially would have observed a slight darkening of the sky due to
the suspended ash blocking some of the incoming sunlight. Over a period of
days the sky would have cleared as the ash settled to the ground. As noted in
the section on wadi flash floods, it has been suggested by some scholars that
the early Eighteenth Dynasty Tempest Stela describes a great storm caused
by the Minoan eruption. While it is true that a volcanic eruption can produce
a strong enough updraft to generate a convective storm, and also that the
expelled aerosols (ash particles and gas molecules) promote cloud seeding, it
seems unlikely that the Minoan eruption could have had a significant effect
on the weather in Egypt, which was far to the south of Thera (1,300 km at
Thebes) and its eastward-moving eruption plume. In any case, a resolution of
the debate over the Tempest Stela will have to await a more conclusive dating
of this eruption event.
254
In the initial stages of the Minoan eruption, a massive column of ash and
coarser pyroclastic material was blasted many kilometers into the atmosphere.
At some point when the eruption intensity slackened, this column was no lon-
ger supported by the explosive rise of volcanic gases and so collapsed onto
the volcano and surrounding sea. The sudden addition of such a great mass
of material to the sea produced a tsunami. Many such waves were probably
created as the intensity of the eruption alternately waxed and waned. Toward
the end of the eruption cycle an even larger and more far-reaching tsunami
was generated when the volcano collapsed into its underlying, now-emptied
magma chamber. The tsunamis directed toward Egypt were largely blocked by
the island of Crete, and although they still reached the Egyptian coast, it was
in a much-diminished state. The height of the largest tsunami wave as it came
on shore in Egypt was a fraction of the maximum 10-m wave height recorded
on the north coast of Crete, 110 km south of Thera. Pumice found in an early
Eighteenth Dynasty stratum at the aforementioned Tell el- Dab’a (ancient
Avaris) has been cited as evidence of the Minoan eruption. Although pieces of
this glassy, porous volcanic rock float on water, they could not be carried by a
tsunami up the Pelusiac branch to Avaris. The pumice may not even come from
Thera because there are many potential pumice sources in the surrounding
regions and this rock, which was used as a depilatory, was a popular trade item.
Meteorite Impacts
In antiquity, as now, the night sky in Egypt was marked by the fiery streaks
of meteors. Ancient Egyptians understood what happened when meteors
became impacting meteorites. For example, in the early Middle Kingdom
fable of the shipwrecked sailor, the giant serpent who shares an island with the
eponymous sailor tells him that all its fellow serpents were killed by a “falling
star.” Egyptians additionally understood what meteorites, the metallic ones at
least, were composed of as indicated by their earliest name for metallic iron,
which was bi ꝫ n pt or “iron from heaven.” This name pre-dates the period when
iron smelting became commonplace in Egypt, beginning in the Twenty-sixth
Dynasty, and derives from the occasional use of meteoritic iron as far back as
the Predynastic Period.
Ancient Egyptians must have seen one or more meteorite impacts or, at
least, learned of them from people in the surrounding regions. There is only
one known impact site in Egypt that might date to the Dynastic Period, and
this is the so-called Kamil Crater in the country’s southwest corner, about 100
km east of Gebel Uweinat. This crater has a diameter of 45 m and an average
depth of 16 m. It is estimated that it was created by an iron meteorite with a
diameter of about 1.3 m. This site is in a remote part of the desert, and so it is
unlikely the impact was witnessed by anyone, although the meteorite’s passage
25
across the sky would have been seen by people in the Nile Valley. Beyond this,
the impact was too small to have had an effect outside the local area. The date
of this event is not well established but is thought to be sometime within the last
5,000 years. If other meteorite impacts left craters during the Dynastic Period,
these have either disappeared or gone unrecognized. Small craters would tend
to be rapidly buried by sediments or destroyed by erosion. Only where these
processes operate slowly, such as at Kamil Crater, does the evidence of meteor-
ite impacts survive.
256
257
14 }
The Fickle Nile
EFFECTS OF DROUGHTS AND FLOODS
Judith Bunbury
Herodotus described Egypt as the “gift of the Nile” since it was, and still is, the
rich Nile alluvium, gleaned from the basalts of the Ethiopian Highlands, that
created the fertile silt of the Nile Valley on which the majority of the Egyptian
population is dependent. Since most Egyptians live on and are dependent upon
the river floodplain of the Nile, they are also at the mercy of its floods. It fol-
lows that much of Egyptian history has been preoccupied with the manage-
ment of the Nile, from the placation of the Nile gods to the more mundane
construction of embankments and canals to provide flood relief and irrigation.
By the twentieth century the desire for control led to the creation of a large res-
ervoir, Lake Nasser, which required the evacuation of the inhabitants of Nubia
to increase food security for Egypt as a whole.
In its native state the level of the Nile is determined by the contributions
from its two main sources: the White Nile and the Blue Nile. While the former,
which rises in lakes of the East African Rift, has a relatively steady flow, the
latter rises dramatically during the summer months as a result of the monsoon
in the Ethiopian Highlands. The rise begins in July and continues until early
October and thus became a key event in the Egyptian calendar with the amount
of rise determining whether there would be a low flood and famine, a perfect
flood and feast or, in the case of an overwhelming flood, disaster. The flood
season ( ꝫḫt) was the first and was followed by growth (prt) and harvest (šmw),
calendrical points that persist in the Coptic calendar of today.
On a longer timescale the magnitude of the flood and the behavior of the
Nile in its valley and delta fluctuated in response to natural climate change. At
times of high global temperature the monsoon was enhanced and local rainfall
also fell across the Saharan region, sometimes re-mobilizing ancient river sys-
tems in the desert of Egypt that are known as wadis. At other times of global
257
258
258 { Judith Bunbury
cooling, the monsoon diminished and even failed, and local rainfall, as today,
was sparse. Global temperature change also had an effect on sea level in the
Mediterranean. During the last ice age much water was locked up in the ice
caps and sea level was low. At the end of the ice age, the ice melted and sea level
began to rise. The Nile River, which had cut down through its ancient sedi-
ments to form a gulley, was reanimated, and the Egyptian Nile became a wet
and marshy area subject to intense flooding, the so-called Wild Nile.
In the Holocene (the past 12,500 years since the last ice age) there were times
when the Nile became so full that it overflowed the Nile Canyon and spread out
to form large lakes such as Lake Qarun in the Fayum depression and another
in the area of the Kharga Oasis (fig. 14.1). In both cases the accumulation of
silts in the oasis basins laid the foundation of later agricultural activity, since
the lake sediments slope gently into the center of the lakebed and are fertile.
The Fayum, being closely connected to the Nile and easy to irrigate, would
eventually become the “bread-basket” of the eastern Mediterranean, growing
cereals for the Roman Empire. Kharga, a little more distant from the Nile,
became a source of fruit, particularly dates and vines from which fine wine was
produced with the help of wells and qanats (underground chains of wells). We
know from evidence of carbon dates of hearths both under and on top of the
sediments in the Toshka Spillway that feeds the Kharga depression that these
FIGURE 14.1 Map of Egypt showing areas mentioned in the text.

259
Events: Effects of Droughts and Floods } 259
overflows occurred during the early Holocene but had ceased by the Neolithic
(c.4000 BCE).
Until around 6000 BCE the inhabitants of Egypt treated the valley of the Wild
Nile with circumspection, camping and hunting on the terraces that flanked it.
At the same time they made good use of the then-abundant network of oases
in the Saharan region. Work in the Dakhla Oasis suggests that during the wet-
ter period between c.10,000 and 8,000 BCE food was sufficiently abundant that
people became increasingly settled in the region, mirroring observations from
the Kharga and the Farafra regions. Rock art from this area documents the
presence of elephant, crocodiles, hippopotami, ostriches, and giraffes, some of
which are associated with standing water, along with many other species that
no longer survive in the area. All that started to change around 4000 BCE, when
climate change reduced the rainfall in the deserts and the wildness of the Nile
in the Nile Valley. The scene was set for the development of agriculture in the
Nile Valley and the unification of the Egyptian people, linked by the thread of
the Nile, for the first time in history.
Sites like Hierakonpolis in the Nile Valley in Upper Egypt flourished during
the late fifth millennium BCE and show that Egypt still had abundant wood to
use in architecture and that some animal species associated with wetter climes
could still survive there, including elephant and baboon. Other sites up and
down Egypt of this period share archaeological features, although the regions
were still culturally distinctive. The contemporary site of El- Badari, near
Assiut, shows that the inhabitants survived by a mixture of agriculture, fishing,
and pastoralism. The period also saw a flourishing of technology, in particular
the production of flaked, fire-hardened flint that may correspond to a coales-
cence of people and technology from the Saharan region as the habitat of the
hinterland deteriorated and that of the Nile Valley improved. For the first time,
Egyptians were united by close proximity to the Nile, which in turn led to coop-
eration, conflict, and conquest.
The unification of Upper and Lower Egypt under King Scorpion is recorded
on the Narmer palette found at Hierakonpolis by Quibell and Green during
their 1897–1898 dig season. The palette, now in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo,
is similar in design to those used for preparation of pigment, although it is too
large for daily practical use and is interpreted as being a ceremonial object. The
palette, the iconography of which emphasizes the power of the king, shows him
on one side wearing the white crown of Upper Egypt and on the other wearing
the red crown of Lower Egypt—it is one of the earliest evidence for the unifica-
tion of Egypt. Although Egypt was now unified along the Nile, the distinction
between Upper Egypt of the Nile Valley and the Lower Egypt of the Delta
persists to this day.
With the unification of Egypt came the beginnings of state enterprise and
cooperation, a florescence of writing with lists, labels, accounts, and public
property, and in particular the organization of irrigation and agriculture on
260
a large scale. In common with other large rivers, cooperation with neighbors
both up and downstream became important to survival. A prerequisite for
managing the Nile was to understand its behavior, and a priestly class emerged
whose role was to monitor, measure, and record the Nile, as well as petition and
placate its gods. An early identity of the flood is the god Hapi, whose origin is
shrouded in the mists of time and whose attributes, those of a heavy-breasted
and bearded man, are indicative of the importance of the flood to fertility in
Egypt. One of Hapi’s putative locations was at Elephantine, the site of the first
cataract, where an almost continuous Nile floodplain begins. With time other
gods associated with irrigation and the control of water emerged, including
Sobek, the crocodile god.
The Nile floodplain varies between one to around twenty kilometers wide
at its greatest extent. Within it there is limited topography of around 2 m and
usually one channel (sometimes more) of the river. Since there are no tribu-
taries within Egypt, the behavior of the Nile and the floodplain remains rela-
tively similar throughout the whole of Upper Egypt. In Lower Egypt the river
enters the delta and splits into distributaries where water disperses into canals,
marshes, brackish swamps, saltpans, lagoons, and finally the sea. As it flows, it
builds up levees that are sandy riverbanks rising above the surrounding silts. In
common with most rivers, the Nile also meanders as it flows though its own soft
sediment, snaking across the floodplain sideways at an average rate of around
2 km per thousand years. Generally bends move outward and downstream,
with islands and sand bars tending to form in the bends. People trying to find a
purchase in this dynamic floodplain adopted a number of different solutions at
different periods. The main criterion was that the ground should be high, since
most architecture was unbaked mud brick, which, when confronted with water,
simply melts. Each year the flood rose, deposited silt, and then fell. The village
surveyor (dalal) then laid out the plots of the village again using landscape fea-
tures such as levees to delineate agricultural areas (hod) and then a measuring
stick to sub-divide them into fields.
During the Predynastic Period the wadi mouths and ancient river terraces
that flanked the then wilder Nile were popular for habitation, especially as
they also provided access to the resources of the surrounding desert-savanna.
However, during the Old Kingdom as the climate became dryer and the wadis
unstable, settlements were tempted out into the floodplain, particularly to the
levees, leading to ribbon developments along the Nile banks. Evidence from
excavations at Mit Rahina (site of ancient Memphis near Cairo) show that when
flood levels were low, the settlements encroached on the Nile banks but that, at
times of high floods, buildings were washed away and settlements were forced to
retreat. Accumulation of mud brick at settlement sites to form kôms meant that,
as the floodplain rose when annual doses of silt were deposited, the sites kept
ahead and remained above water. Particularly vibrant sites like Memphis could
rise to a considerable height (up to 10 m) above the floodplain and also expand
261
by in-filling marshes and minor channels with rubbish. Islands, another popu-
lar site for settlement, offered proximity to water on either side and may have
formed the nucleus of many large sites like Karnak and Memphis. Inevitably,
as the Nile migrated these islands bonded to the mainland on one side and,
often within a century, were islands no more. The same pattern of habitation
persisted until the inception of the Aswan Dam in the late nineteenth century.
During the flood season the Nile rose and spread out over the floodplain.
The extent of ancient interest in flood levels is demonstrated by the construc-
tion of nilometers at Aswan, Thebes, and Cairo, both at ancient Memphis and
at Roda, as well as in other cities. The nilometers recorded an annual increase
in river level of around 14 m at Aswan (where the valley is narrow), 12 m at
Luxor, and 8 m at Cairo. From this rise, the forecast for the success of the
coming growing season could be made and the tax rate set accordingly. Too
low a flood meant that insufficient land could be irrigated and there would be
famine, while too high a flood would sweep away irrigation works and homes
leading to disaster. A rise at Cairo of 16 cubits (just over 7 m) was regarded as
ensuring abundance without leading to disaster (fig. 14.2). To ensure that water
was delivered to the correct places, the river levees were breached in order to
liberate the water at the right moment. In many depictions, for example the
Scorpion macehead from Hierakonpolis (now in the Ashmolean Museum), the
FIGURE 14.2 Nile god with sixteen putti, representing the fertility of a sixteen-cubit rise of the Nile
during the flood.
26
FIGURE 14.3 Sketch after a figure on the Narmer mace head: the king symbolically carrying a hoe.
king is shown ceremonially breaching the levee with a hoe (fig. 14.3), indicating
what a key function this was. No doubt, in practice, the authority was generally
delegated to local priests while the hoe was the province of the local farmers.
A scattering of nilometer records survive from the Early Dynastic Period,
although they are frustratingly not linked to any specific nilometer. They do,
however, indicate a general decline in flood level through the Early Dynastic.
The declining flood meant that the floodplain became easier to inhabit, and
it seems that thickets were cleared and a mixture of hunting, gathering, and
agriculture was practiced. Informal agriculture could be supplemented during
the rainy season by hunting and herding in the deserts. Fifth Dynasty tomb
scenes from Saqqara and Abusir show desert-savanna in the Memphis area
with abundant game. Declining monsoon rains were caused by a fall in global
temperature, which saw a corresponding reduction in rainfall in the deserts,
leading to degradation of the wadi habitat from scrub to desert. Ultimately,
the death of the vegetation led to catastrophic collapse of wadi sands, forming
tongues of sand that rushed out into the river floodplain. Desertification also
led to an increasing reliance on pastoralism in the Nile Valley and near desert.
Species that had been present in the area in the Mid-Holocene such as elephant,
263
giraffe, and many others were marginalized southwards perhaps partly as a

result of loss of habitat through herding and through hunting. Toward the end
of the Old Kingdom, flood levels declined still further and there was an influx
of sand that had been released from the Saharan region during desertification.
The increased sand in the river was re-deposited as islands and over the flood-
plain, raising its level, and collected downstream in the Delta, further consoli-
dating it. The result was famine and disaster, culminating in the collapse of the
Old Kingdom and the rule of Egypt as a number of smaller districts during the
First Intermediate Period. Oscillations of the flood continued until the present
day with much investment in nilometers and records across Egypt. Periods of
high floods were devastating in the short term but ultimately lead to an expan-
sion of the floodplain, particularly during the New Kingdom, providing more,
fertile land for cultivation in their aftermath. The Roda Nilometer built around
715 CE maintained records through the Islamic Period and provides an excep-
tional index of Nile behavior.
The scene was set for the management of water in the Nile Valley on a large
scale, since floods were lower and therefore more manageable, but sufficient
food could not be gleaned without organized irrigation. In this unending task
the careful measurement and record keeping of the priests was counterpointed
with the role of the pharaoh in maintaining maat, the state of balance and
order in the face of potential chaos. Maintenance of maat involved an increas-
ingly sophisticated network of canals, embankments, and basins nominally
under control of the king but locally delegated. The floodplain of the Nile,
while generally flat, has natural rises of up to 3 m where levees, abandoned
levees, and channels crisscross it. These natural embankments, augmented by
dikes, could be used to form basins into which water was released during the
flood. When the water returned to the main channel during the recession it
left well-watered fields that had been fertilized by fresh silt. By the judicious
breaching of embankments and blocking canals, the amount of land irrigated
was controlled in accordance with the measured flood level. Equally, embank-
ments were used to store water for later release. This system ensured that the
best possible use was made of the agricultural land upon which the country had
become dependent. It also required greater cooperation with those upstream
and downstream. Too much water taken off upstream could lead to a paucity
downstream, while too little water taken could cause catastrophic flooding.
Beyond the Nile floodplain, the large lake floor (around 1,800 km2) of the
Fayum had been exposed by evaporation, since declining flood levels meant
water no longer overflowed through a gap at Hawara to refill the lake annu-
ally. The only thing required to bring this large lakebed under agriculture was
a controlled supply of water. During the Twelfth Dynasty, schemes emerged
to refill the lake and to store floodwaters from the Nile’s minor channel,
the Bahr Yusuf, by diverting it into reservoirs in the Fayum. By the time of
Amenemhat III, half the lakebed had been refilled with water, an event that
264
was commemorated by the construction of two colossi at Biahmu. It is perhaps

at this Middle Kingdom moment that the relationship between the Nile and
the inhabitants of the valley changed from one of response to one of “dia-
logue.” Patterns of land use and the annual cycle of activity remained remark-
ably stable from this period until the construction of the High Dam at Aswan
during the 1960s, which ended the annual flood. Mobilization of public effort
at the end of Shemu, the harvest season, could prepare embankments and irri-
gation channels as well as construct ceremonial monuments. Recent work at
Memphis has shown that, by the New Kingdom, minor channels of the Nile
were sometimes reactivated, while at other times they were blocked to form
harbor basins and to protect drained areas for buildings like the Temple of
Ptah at Memphis. The god Ptah himself was associated with surveying, since
the land appeared new-made each year as the flood receded. Agricultural area
names, coined by these surveyors, survive on modern cadastral maps of Egypt
and many recall earlier topographies (for example, the time when the plot was
formerly an island). While there continued to be some high and low floods, a
pattern of Nile management had emerged that, in conjunction with the storage
of surpluses, created relative food security in Egypt.
Within the basins of the Nile Valley, natural meandering of the river caused
loss of land on one side of the valley, with corresponding gains on the other
(fig. 14.4). Settlements that abutted the riverbank tended to find that they were
either eroded or left behind by the Nile. Of course, we have no records of towns
that were eroded, as these probably did not survive beyond the development
of a village. However, settlements that were left behind by the Nile had the
benefit that there was new prime land created on the riverbank ripe for devel-
opment. Moreover, the old town, by now run down and far from the river,
could be quarried for mud or stone for buildings, a sustainable way in which
towns could move to remain in touch with the river. Other examples of focus
on islands include Thebes, where the Middle Kingdom harbor area known as
“Tell Karnak” abutted the settlement of the priests. At this settlement there is
evidence for baking, brewing, and other practical day-to-day activities close to
the water.
In antiquity, myths emerged from observations of the Nile behavior, par-
ticularly regarding the colonization of islands: They were the primordial land
that had emerged from the waters of chaos. Islands that formed in the Nile
had the multiple virtues of being accessible, well supplied with water, and rel-
atively protected from erosion. The adjacent minor channels are biodiverse,
attracting waterfowl and large fish, other important resources. There is some
evidence that islands were favored as locations for temples, perhaps particularly
important if the priests were responsible for monitoring the rise of the Nile
(which was expected soon after the rising of the Dog Star) and for directing
the irrigation (and later taxation) activities in accordance with the level the
flood had reached. Conveniently, the low ground flanking habitable islands was
265
FIGURE 14.4 Plan of meander bends in the Nile Valley near Abydos, showing the constraints of the
desert canyon, the meander pattern of the Nile, the thin dark lines that follow roads and hôd ( field)
boundaries that indicate the direction of migration of the Nile (shown with arrows).
ideal for industrial activity, being accessible, spacious, close to a source of water
and mud for brick making, and with the added advantage that it was annually
cleansed. Evvliya Celebi, the seventeenth-century Ottoman geographer, vividly
describes how, as the flood began to recede, there was such a frenzy of activity
on the riverbank that one could “find no place to drop a needle.”
A modern analogue of this is Crocodile Island, just south of Luxor, where
a luxury hotel has been constructed, and its neighbor, Banana Island, a popu-
lar objective for felucca tours, which is no longer actually an island. Often,
modern-day farms are located on islands adjacent to the minor channel and
on the high ground created by the river levee. The advantages still outweigh
the disadvantages of having to take a boat to get to the shops. Observations
of Badrshein Island near Mit Rahina (Memphis) show that the island formed
during the late nineteenth century in the channel near a bend and was subse-
quently joined to the mainland within a century. In the meantime it had had the
advantage of a Nile frontage on one side and a quiet-water channel suitable for
a harbor and a brickworks on the other.
Confidence in public construction projects and Nile management grew
through the New Kingdom with the creation of embankments and the exten-
sive Ptah Temple at Memphis. Huge basins, known as birket, were excavated in
the Theban area. Of these, a fine example is part of the complex, constructed
26
by the Eighteenth Dynasty pharaoh Amenhotep III, of Malkata and Birket

Habu on the west bank of the Nile at Thebes. Malkata is a palace built on the
desert edge, served by a large harbor basin connected to the Nile by a channel.
The mounds of earth that were thrown up during the excavations of the basin
were sufficiently large that they can still be seen today and are the site of a vil-
lage, Medinet Habu. Arguably a brief period of wetter climate around this time
meant that hunting and travel through the desert became easier. The devel-
opment of horse-drawn chariots, a novelty imported by the elite and which
required prepared roads, increased the use of the broad wadis behind the pal-
ace. By dint of a great deal of digging, access by water to the Nile had been
assured even for this desert-edge site. Unfortunately this benign period was
short-lived, and during the time of Akhenaten the site was abandoned for a
move to Amarna and subsequently Thebes.
While the main channel of the Nile remained difficult to manage, the minor
channels could easily be controlled and, having less water and lower velocities,
meandered on a much smaller scale than the main river. One such narrow chan-
nel, the Bahr Yusuf, was an ideal partner to the development of a town, and
from the example of Oxyrhynchus a sophisticated pattern of location within
the landscape and symbiosis with it emerges. Oxyrhynchus was located on the
desert edge, and the Bahr Yusuf was diverted from its normal course to one
farther west that abutted the desert for maximum convenience, since residence
in the desert edge guarded against flooding and erosion. Rather than following
the river, the Ptolemaic and Roman residents had brought the river to them-
selves. Physical remains of the town are still visible, but more exceptionally its
enormous archive of rubbish, dumped in the desert, also survived. So abundant
were the records that a hundred years after they were excavated the collation
and translation of the documents continues. From these documents we learn
of lovers’ tiffs, a kind gift of a puppy to a lonely bride now far from home,
and many more mundane matters pertinent to the running of the town. The
combined record of the archaeology and the documents shows that a channel,
taken from the Bahr Yusuf upstream where it joined the desert edge, brought
water to a large tank at the upper desert side of the town. From here a grid of
channels served the town in all but the lowest part of the river’s annual cycle.
The channels brought fresh water down from the cistern into the houses and
delivered the used water to the river below the town. At times when the water
was exhausted, a man was employed to raise water to the town, and we learn
from his correspondence that in a particularly long dry season he felt disgrun-
tled that the remuneration did not match the labor required. Embankments
also enclosed fishponds, while marshy areas might attract game birds.
Agriculture could be conducted on a grand scale where the Nile floodplain
was wide, but, at the same time, cities were vulnerable to loss of access to the
migrating channel. In the Edfu region, a relatively wide part of the floodplain,
we see an interplay of the various cities in the region, Edfu, El-Kab, and Nekhen
267
as the river wandered across the floodplain, changing the resources available to
the towns. Correspondingly in Middle Egypt, the largest part of the floodplain,
a complex system of agricultural basins was created, but few towns could per-
sist for long. Exceptions to this include Karnak, where the complex became so
large that the river could not re-cross the city and was forced to meander to the
west, and Edfu, where the town was located on a rocky eminence invulnerable
to erosion. Strategic points emerged where the valley narrowed, such as Aswan,
Saqqara, and Armant, where a location on the stable desert edge assured com-
mand of the Nile, which was unable to escape from the constricting valley. An
excellent example of these processes is the town of Hermopolis, which, accord-
ing to the foundation myth, developed on an island when the Nile was at the
center point of a wide tract of fertile land during the Middle Kingdom. With
time the river meandered away to the east, and the papyri tell us that by Roman
times land transport was required to take the sailors from the town to its own
harbor. Pragmatically, in the second century CE Hadrian re-founded the town
at Antinoopolis, where his lover Antinous had drowned. The site also had the
strategic advantage of being on the desert edge and therefore impregnable to
erosion. Better still, by this time a combination of revetment of the riverbank
and diversion of excess water into abandoned channels and flood basins could
prevent the Nile from leaving the new city. Meandering continued in the rural
hinterland, and the river’s changes in location are recorded in land exchange
documents through the centuries of the first millennium CE. Since Antinoopolis
had originally been founded with little agricultural land, most purchases before
the sixth century CE are Antinoopolites obtaining land from Hermopolites.
Later, as the river upstream turned and started to migrate towards Hermopolis,
the Hermopolites were keen to purchase land from their Antinoopolite neigh-
bors. Arguably, it was the Romans who had finally attained mastery of the Nile.
Meanwhile, downstream the Delta was gradually extending and accumu-
lating sediment. Agricultural practices in use in the Nile Valley could also be
deployed in the Delta. Until c.2000 BCE the Delta had been marshy with abun-
dant papyrus and reeds and many interconnected channels. When channels
burst their banks the resulting sediment fans were ideal locations for small-
scale agriculture, while the pools and marshes were home to game, waterfowl,
and fish. Indeed evidence from Neolithic Merimde Beni-Salame shows that
hippopotami were sufficiently abundant that the doorsteps of the houses were
made of hippo tibia. The Old Kingdom tomb of Ti at Saqqara has a fine image
of a gentleman hunting and fishing in the marshes, accompanied by his wife in
her finest wig. The same tomb contains scenes of marsh men with their water-
resistant reed kilts delivering cattle to the Saqqara area. This evidence is com-
plemented by observations from Kom el-Hisn in the western Delta where, study
of dung reveals, the main animals farmed there were cattle. Contrastingly, the
evidence from the bones of animals butchered at the site shows that the main
animals eaten were sheep or goats. Archaeologists conclude that the site was
268
a cattle ranch exporting to the Saqqara area. So, the early Delta habitat was
rich and diverse, if replete with mosquitos and bilharzia. With time, however,
marshes in the Delta started to fill with sediment, and the channel network
changed from many interconnected channels to fewer channels that fanned out
from a point around Memphis.
By the fifth century BCE, Herodotus records some six main channels remain-
ing. The sparser nutrients of this new environment and the hierarchical struc-
ture of the river channels meant that Memphis, through which all ships going
from Upper to Lower Egypt had to pass, became pre-eminent in the region.
Flooding was extensive during the rise of the Nile, hence settlements of the
period were located around the fringes of gezireh, raised sandbanks some-
times also known as turtle-backs. The somewhat fanciful Palestrina mosaic (pl.
11) shows arched reed huts perching on top of sandy eminences surrounded by
water and populated by farmers, fowl, and cattle, and fringed by fish. People
settled farther out in the Delta had to balance access to food, whether from
the richer coastal region or the poorer hinterland, with access to fresh water.
Unfortunately, considerable sedimentation since the Predynastic Period means
that we do not have a clear view of how settlements were distributed at that
period. Perhaps sedimentation and the resulting loss of habitat was to some
extent the cause of land losses in the Delta to invasions of Hyksos and other
hostile forces from the Levant or Libya. However with a return of energy in
the New Kingdom and re-conquest of the Delta, trade routes with the eastern
Mediterranean were established and ports of the Delta flourished, for example
Avaris (Piramesse), Kom Firin, and Sais.
In 331 BCE Alexander the Great recognized the great potential of the site
of Alexandria. He located it on a beach ridge with access to the sea to the
north and Mareotis to the south. The city also had a secure supply of fresh
water underground in ancient beach ridges. By medieval times, construction
of drinking water storage cisterns that were filled by water-lifting wheels dur-
ing the fresh-water flood meant that a city like Tinnis, on an island in a coastal
Manzala lagoon, could become an important entrepôt, a “Venice of the East,”
even if seasonally some water had to be imported to the site from farther
upstream by boat. During the Mediterranean sailing season, which coincided
approximately with the time of the flood, fresh water was abundant, as was
trade. Seagoing ships could be unloaded, reloaded, and provisioned, while shal-
low draft smaller boats conveyed goods through the Delta canal network. The
town also developed a luxury textile industry producing linens.
Since Herodotus’ visit, the number of distributary channels in the Nile Delta
has continued to reduce until there are only two main branches today: the
Rosetta and the Damietta. Silting of the coastal lagoons has also reduced their
size considerably. Moreover, the delta head has moved northward from old
Memphis to north of Cairo as the Delta has continued to develop and con-
solidate. Since the late nineteenth century even greater efforts have been made
269
to control the fickle Nile. Muhammad Ali commissioned the Aswan Dam in
order to reduce the height of the flood maximum and to increase the amount
of water during the dry season. The aim of this and subsequent projects was
to impound water during the flood season and to release it during the rest of
the year. By this means, the danger of flooding and disaster could be alleviated
and the productivity of the floodplain assured. The initial effect of the dam was
to spawn a large number of new villages, and the Nile course in Muhammad
Ali’s late nineteenth century can in places be tracked from these chains of vil-
lages. With better control of the flood, settlements could also expand and, as
motorcars became widely available, street patterns and plot sizes changed. The
patterns created by these historical processes are still visible in Egyptian settle-
ments today (fig. 14.5).
Subsequently, in the 1960s President Gamal Abdel Nasser commissioned
the High Dam, which now maintains the Nile at mid-height for the whole year.
However, as with many ambitious schemes, there are also downsides. Water
is impounded in a huge lake 200 km long, but so is the sediment that for so
long built up the floodplain and ensured the fertility of Egypt. The silt that
was previously distributed across Egypt is now deposited in Lake Nasser, and
a new delta is emerging at the southern end of the lake. In Egypt the cleansing
FIGURE 14.5 Diagram of Egyptian village in the Nile floodplain showing the dense irregular street
patterns of the old settlement that has formed a kôm (dark gray shading), newer development (pale
gray), and the remaining cultivation (unshaded). New development tends to following the field plot
system and has a straighter more regular road pattern.
270
effects of the flood have been removed, and the high evaporation rate is lead-
ing to an accumulation of salt in the soil. To replace the natural fertility that
Herodotus described as the “gift of the Nile,” chemical fertilizers are added
and, in the absence of the annual flood, excess salt and fertilizer is no longer
swept away. Characteristically, Egypt has continued to adapt. Sand is brought
from the desert to wick up the salt so that it can be disposed of back in the
desert, and additional water is allowed to flow into Lake Qarun and the pools
and lagoons of the Delta to prevent the lakes from turning pink with excess
chemicals. The Nile continues to represent life and destruction and, in common
with the ancient pharaohs, the maintenance of the balance of maat, even if we
know it by the new name of “productivity,” continues to be paramount.
271
15 }
Illness from Afar
EPIDEMICS AND THEIR AFTERMATH
Rosalie David
Disease, Medical Concepts, and Treatments: Cross-cultural Impact

and Transmission
Although deserts and seas provided protection against frequent invasion,

Egypt’s roles as a great politico-military power and a cultural crossroads ensured
continuing contact with neighboring lands. Population transfer, whether via
military campaigns or migration, brought Egypt into contact with the peoples
of Nubia, Asia Minor, and the Mediterranean, and the two-way transmission
of foreign influences, with regard to disease, medical concepts, and treatments,
is well documented.
The skills of Egyptian doctors, who gained extensive experience from
accompanying military, quarrying, and mining expeditions, were internation-
ally renowned and acknowledged. For instance, the ruler of Ugarit dispatched
a letter (EA 49 in the Amarna archive) to the pharaoh, asking him to send a
physician, the Hittite king invited Egyptian doctors to attend his court, and
later, Egyptian and Greek doctors held prominent positions at the Persian
court. After the Persian invasion of Egypt, Udjahorresne, an Egyptian naval
officer, was appointed by Cambyses (525–522 BCE) as a courtier and chief phy-
sician. In his statue inscription, he relates how Darius I (521–486 BCE), the next
Persian ruler of Egypt, commissioned him to restore and re-equip the House of
Life at Sais, famed for its role in treating the sick.
Significant migrations to Egypt in the Greco-Roman Period (332 BCE–395
CE) doubtless ensured that some elements of Egyptian medicine were transmit-
ted to the Greek and Roman systems. Graffiti in the temple of Hatshepsut at
Deir el-Bahri demonstrate that, during the same period, foreigners travelled
to Egypt to seek cures at temple sanatoria. Medical exchanges and transmis-
sion are also known from pharaonic times. For example, the Egyptian medical
papyri have references to diseases and treatments of foreign origin, and even
271
27
272 { Rosalie David
some native remedies include pharmaceutical and other ingredients imported

from outside Egypt.
High- level diplomacy sometimes focused on medical treatment. In one
instance, a letter (EA23 in the Amarna archive) mentions that the Mitannian
king, Tushratta, sent a statue of the goddess Ishtar of Nineveh to the Egyptian
court, possibly in the hope that the deity would cure the ailments of Amenhotep
III (Eighteenth Dynasty). A later work of fiction relates how medical assis-
tance was sought from Egypt when the Hittite sister-in-law of Ramesses II
(Nineteenth Dynasty) became ill. The skills of an Egyptian physician having
failed, the princess’s evil spirit was finally exorcised when a healing statue of
Khonsu was sent from Egypt.
Paleopathological evidence indicates that contact with foreigners could
result in personal injury. The nearly complete body of King Seneb-Kay of
the early Second Intermediate Period provides evidence that a massive assault
with bladed weapons caused his demise, while the severe wounds visible in
the badly damaged, disarticulated mummy of Tao II Seqenenre (Seventeenth
Dynasty) may be the result of battlefield conflict or injuries inflicted by assas-
sins. The bodies of some sixty soldiers buried within the funerary complex of
Nebhepetre Mentuhotep II (Eleventh Dynasty) at Deir el-Bahri also exhibit
severe wounds, probably inflicted by arrows or stones during an onslaught on
a fortress.
Epidemic Diseases in Ancient Egypt
In view of the extensive interaction between Egypt and her neighbors, it might
be expected that ample evidence of epidemic and pandemic diseases would be
preserved in the archaeological and paleopathological records.
The first extant attempt to identify the influence that external and environ-
mental factors had on endemic and epidemic diseases is found in the works
of Hippocrates (c.450–370 BCE) and his followers. These sources discuss the
impact that climate, winds, water supply, soil, geographical location, and popu-
lation lifestyle exerts on patterns of disease. Modern studies have confirmed
that the spread of disease is facilitated by rising population density and the
establishment of cities and towns, with their overcrowded housing, inadequate
ventilation, poor sanitation, and unhygienic waste disposal; these conditions
were all present in ancient Egypt.
Climatic and environmental factors, combined with unique burial prac-
tices, have ensured that a wealth of source material has survived in Egypt. This
includes archaeological assemblages, inscribed records, and bodies preserved
by natural (unintentional) or artificial (intentional) mummification processes.
Biomedical and scientific techniques used to study these human remains have
provided new evidence about disease patterns (pl. 12). These sources inform
273
Events: Epidemics and Their Aftermath } 273
current knowledge about the following types of epidemic disease that may have
afflicted the ancient Egyptians.
THE BIBLICAL PLAGUES
The biblical plagues include what is probably the best-known reference to an

Egyptian epidemic. According to the Book of Exodus, these ten plagues were
divinely inflicted upon Egypt to force the pharaoh to release the Hebrews from
slavery. They have been the subject of considerable debate, and historians con-
tinue to dispute whether the account is allegorical, a memory-compilation of
disconnected natural disasters, or a chain of events that actually happened, set
in motion by climatic and environmental changes.
It has been suggested that the sixth plague (Exodus 9:8–12), which brought
a festering skin condition (perhaps a symptom of some epidemic disease) to
the Egyptians and their livestock, could have resulted from the transmission
to humans of the livestock disease mentioned in the fifth plague. The tenth
plague—in which the Egyptians’ firstborn children were annihilated (Exodus
11:1–12:36)—has also been the subject of much discussion.
According to one hypothesis, the infants’ deaths may have been caused by
toxins present in their morning meal, perhaps the result of overnight pollu-
tion by locusts or black mold. There has also been speculation that the bibli-
cal account may be the first extant record of a bubonic plague epidemic, or
it may describe conditions attributable to bacillary dysentery or intestinal
schistosomiasis.
The discovery of tomb KV 5 in the Valley of the Kings, which contained
skeletal remains probably attributable to several of Ramesses II’s sons, excited
considerable interest and raised questions about whether one of the bodies
might belong to the pharaoh’s firstborn as mentioned in Exodus and whether
this might present an opportunity for diagnostic investigation to identify the
nature of the biblical plague. However, Weeks believes that this line of enquiry
would lead nowhere. Apart from the difficulty of identifying an epidemic-
type disease in ancient human remains, there is no historical evidence that the
Exodus ever occurred and no proof that the biblical pharaoh was Ramesses II;
additionally, it is unclear whether Amunhirkhopshef was indeed Ramesses II’s
firstborn son, or if his body is among those found in KV 5.
BUBONIC PLAGUE
Scholars have generally assumed that bubonic plague (Yersinia pestis) did not
exist in Egypt in pharaonic times, perhaps only arriving there after the Moslem
conquest of the country in the seventh century CE. Any evidence of an ear-
lier presence is scanty and controversial. There is no direct allusion to the dis-
ease in the medical papyri, although it has been suggested that the “tumors of
274
274 { Rosalie David
Khonsu” mentioned in the Ebers Papyrus (39) may refer to the inflamed and
enlarged lymph glands (buboes) that characterize bubonic plague. Other symp-
toms possibly attributable to bubonic plague, including coal-black spots and
blood-red urine, are described in the Hearst Medical Papyrus (H XI 12–15) and
the London Medical Papyrus (15: 8–10).
Bubonic plague has only been tentatively identified in one ancient Egyptian
body: based on the evidence of a lung lesion, Ruffer suggested that the owner of
a mummy dating to the Ptolemaic Period (332–30 BCE) may have suffered from
the pneumonic form of this disease. However, a general lack of paleopathologi-
cal evidence is not surprising since major symptoms of the disease—high fever,
tachycardia, headache, and chills—would leave no gross pathological traces in
the archaeological record. However, modern genetic techniques, successfully
used to identify plague in other contexts, may offer new opportunities for the
Egyptian material.
Bubonic plague is a disease of rats, not humans, but it is also a zoonosis (a
disease passed between animals and humans). The causative bacillus, Yersinia
pestis, is transmitted from one rodent to another, and once the disease kills the
animal, its fleas (Xenopsylla cheopis) move to a human host. The bacillus is
then transferred to the human host via the fleas’ bites and can subsequently be
spread through person-to-person contact.
The bubonic plague is believed to have originated as a disease associated
with the black rat (Rattus rattus), probably starting in the rodent’s homeland
of northwestern India, and then moving elsewhere at a later date. However,
the archaeological record of a Nile rat at Tell el Dab’a (Thirteenth Dynasty),
its depiction in the Tomb of Baket III at Beni Hasan (No. 15) (Eleventh
Dynasty), and the discovery of remnants of human and animal fleas in
domestic contexts at Amarna (late Eighteenth Dynasty) may indicate a
different scenario that would support the suggestion that bubonic plague
existed in pharaonic Egypt.
This hypothesis proposes that the disease was originally associated with the
Nile rat (Arvicanthis niloticus) whose flea (Xenopsylla cheopis) then jumped
to a new host, the black rat (Rattus rattus), accidentally imported into Egypt
from India through sea-trade or possibly via Mesopotamia. Once the black rat
had established itself as a reservoir for bubonic plague, it then transmitted the
bacillus farther afield, and what may have started as a relatively rare disease in
humans now became the cause of a series of devastating pandemics. Indeed,
rituals and offerings may have been organized on a grand scale in an attempt
to curtail such disasters. It has been suggested that over three hundred statues
of Sekhmet may have been erected in the Precinct of Mut at Karnak during the
reign of Amenhotep III (Eighteenth Dynasty) as a focal point for ceremonies
to placate the goddess. The heavy abrasion and wear noted on the legs and left
arms of some of these statues have been tentatively attributed to the frequent
touch of worshippers.
275
Earlier, there is evidence that the substantial Thirteenth Dynasty settlement

at Tell el-Dab’a was partially abandoned, possibly as the result of an epidemic.
Graves in Stratum G appear to have been prepared for emergency burials: bod-
ies were thrown in, and most graves did not contain offerings. Anthropological
studies have indicated that the population suffered many health problems, and
their consequent lowered resistance would have facilitated the rapid spread of
an epidemic (either bubonic plague or the “Asiatic disease” have been suggested
as possibilities). However, as yet, there is no firm scientific evidence to confirm
the existence of plague in this community.
Aside from these intriguing hypotheses, historians generally acknowledge
that the account of the “Plague of Justinian” written by Procopius (died c.563
CE) is the first extant record of a bubonic plague epidemic. Originating in
Constantinople in 542 CE, this pandemic reputedly killed a quarter of the pop-
ulation of the Roman Empire and may have been responsible for its ultimate
collapse. By 547 CE, the disease had reached western Europe where, from the
fourteenth century onward, recurrent epidemics of the so-called “Black Death”
continued to decimate the population.
MALARIA
The unique nature of the fever associated with malaria is first noted in the
Hippocratic Corpus, which also mentions splenomegaly (enlarged spleen) as a
symptom associated with the disease. However, malarial organisms are known
to be much older; as one of the most ancient human parasites, they probably
existed from at least Neolithic times.
The infection, which can either be acute or chronic and recurrent, is caused
by protozoal parasites of the genus Plasmodium. This is composed of a large
number of species, four of which, including P. falciparum, infect humans;
these parasites are usually transmitted to humans through the bite of infected
Anopheles mosquitoes, which feed on the host’s blood. Symptoms associated
with this type of malaria are fever, enlargement of the spleen and often of the
liver, bilious vomiting and jaundice, and severe anemia.
The disease is characteristically seasonal and will only occur in areas with
appropriate climatic and environmental conditions, human hosts, and a pop-
ulation of Anopheles mosquitoes infected with malarial parasites. The pres-
ence of water, preferably standing or slow running, is necessary in order for
the mosquitoes to breed. All these conditions are known to have existed in
pharaonic and Greco-Roman Egypt, particularly in the Fayum and possibly
in the Delta.
However, the medical papyri make no reference to the characteristic fever
associated with malaria, which recurs at three-or four-day intervals, and evi-
dence of the disease has been difficult to identify in human remains. This is
not surprising since the disease would not generally produce gross pathological
276
276 { Rosalie David
changes, although Ruffer discussed the possibility that the splenomegaly noted
in several Coptic Period (early centuries CE) mummies might be indicative
of malaria. Because of this lack of evidence, some early researchers, includ-
ing Henschen and Sigerist, concluded that malaria probably did not exist in
pharaonic times.
However, immunological approaches have provided a new perspective.
When the ParaSightTM-F test, developed as a diagnostic tool to detect the anti-
gen produced by Plasmodium falciparum in modern populations, was modified
and applied to ancient remains, the relevant antigen was detected in seven out
of eighteen human remains from all the periods studied. These included a series
of naturally desiccated bodies from the Predynastic Period as well as mummies
from the New Kingdom, the Twenty-fifth Dynasty, and the Nubian Ballana
period (350–550 CE).
Based on these results, the researchers concluded that these people had all
been infected with malaria at the time of death. However, Hillson has argued
that stronger proof is needed to confirm that malaria was present in ancient
Egypt. Other immunological studies have produced interesting, if controver-
sial, results. In one case, Krotoski used immunofluorescence to examine tissue
taken from the mummy of Nakht (ROM 1); although this produced positive
reactions, the results were insufficient to demonstrate the presence of malaria
in the mummy. With the successful design of DNA primers to detect various
diseases in antiquity, including malaria, modern genetic techniques are now
starting to offer other analytical opportunities. One example is the tentative
identification of P. falciparum in liver samples obtained from mummies in the
Dakhla oasis.
POLIOMYELITIS
When Elliot Smith unwrapped the mummy of Siptah (Nineteenth Dynasty),

he noted a shortening of the left leg and gross deformity of the ankle, which
he identified as congenital clubfoot (talipes equino-varus) (figs. 15.1–2). Some
researchers have supported this diagnosis, but radiological studies indicate that
the king may have suffered from a neuromuscular disease, possibly poliomy-
elitis. The unilateral shortening of a femur observed in another mummy (from
Deshasha, c.700 BCE) could also be due to poliomyelitis.
A funerary stela of the Eighteenth or Nineteenth Dynasty depicts Roma,
a temple doorkeeper, supporting himself on a staff; his severely wasted and
shortened leg may have been the result of clubfoot deformity or childhood
poliomyelitis. These represent rare, unconfirmed cases, and since the disease
does not occur in isolation, and examples of similar deformities in other mum-
mies have not been identified, the evidence for poliomyelitis in Egypt remains
inconclusive.
27
FIGURE 15.1 The mummy of Ramesses V (Twentieth Dynasty), unwrapped in 1905. Immunological

techniques have confirmed a tentative diagnosis of smallpox made on the basis of cutaneous vesicles
observed on the face (seen here) and elsewhere on the body.
SMALLPOX
Elliot Smith unwrapped the mummy of Ramesses V (Twentieth Dynasty) in

1905 and tentatively identified smallpox as the cause of cutaneous vesicles
observed on the face, neck, chest, and lower abdomen (fig. 15.3). In 1971,
researchers used minute skin samples from the mummy to test this diagnosis,
but attempts to identify the virus using electron microscopy and a radioimmu-
noassay were inconclusive. However, a more sensitive immunoprecipitation test
has since confirmed the presence of smallpox.
Another tentative diagnosis of smallpox, based on a skin lesion observed on
a mummy dating to the Twentieth Dynasty, is not universally accepted. On the
evidence available, widespread existence of this acute crowd infection cannot be
confirmed: the characteristic vesicles are not mentioned in the medical papyri,
and evidence for smallpox in human remains in Egypt, reviewed by Sandison, is
tenuous. Smallpox is a density-dependent disease requiring a population of at
least 200,000: survivors carry immunization against future attacks, and there-
fore a large population pool is required to provide new human hosts. The size
278
FIGURE 15.2 The mummy of Siptah (Nineteenth Dynasty), showing a shortening of the left leg and
gross deformity of the ankle. Cairo Museum.
279
FIGURE 15.3 When the mummy of Siptah (Nineteenth Dynasty) was unwrapped in 1905, the
deformity evident in the left leg and foot was identified as a case of congenital clubfoot (talipes
equino-varus). More recent radiological studies indicate a neuromuscular disease, possibly
poliomyelitis. Cairo Museum.
of local populations in Egypt may simply not have been sufficient to support
such epidemics.
LEPROSY
No evidence of nodular leprosy has been found in mummified human remains

from pharaonic Egypt. A possible explanation for this is that, if the disease was
known to be infectious and victims were isolated during life, they may not have
had access to mummification. Ebbell translated the term “tumors of Khons” as
leprosy in two passages in the Ebers Papyrus (874 and 877). Although this iden-
tification has received some support, the translation remains problematic, and
the passages may in fact refer to other diseases, including cancer or bubonic
plague.
Leprosy has been confirmed in several bodies from the post-pharaonic
period. The earliest skeletal evidence comes from two skulls (c.200 BCE) from
the Dakhla oasis, and the disease has also been noted in some skulls (fourth to
280
280 { Rosalie David
seventh centuries CE) from sites near Aswan. Also, a macroscopic and radiolog-
ical review of the evidence has confirmed the diagnosis of leprosy in a mummy
from a sixth century CE Coptic Christian burial at Biga.
SALMONELLA, TYPHUS, AND TYPHOID
The high temperatures periodically experienced in Egypt, together with

unhealthy water sources, doubtless gave rise to salmonella, typhus, and typhoid,
diseases caused by contaminated food, water, and milk. However, these acute
conditions, which resulted in either a patient’s early death or complete recovery,
leave no record behind in human remains. Literary sources are also inconclu-
sive: although references to fevers—characteristic of such illnesses—do occur
in the medical papyri, descriptions of the symptoms are so general that they
cannot be attributed to a specific disease.
THE “ASIATIC” OR “CANAANITE” DISEASE
The main source of information about this disease are eight spells in the Edwin
Smith Surgical Papyrus (Second Intermediate Period) that are devoted to exor-
cising an annual epidemic known as “the pest of the year.” It was generally
believed that epidemics were brought about by malignant deities, demons, the
disembodied dead, and the wind. These incantations were addressed to benign
gods and spirits so that they would protect and heal the patients, and also to
the bringers of disease, especially the goddess Sekhmet, in the hope of placat-
ing her (fig. 15.4).
It is remarkable that some of these incantations identify the wind as a carrier
of disease agents; this is the earliest extant reference to the idea that pestilence
could be transferred in the air. The sixth incantation identifies a fly as a poten-
tial disease agent; however, this does not imply that the Egyptians were aware
of the biological role of insects in disease transmission—the spell was merely
intended to render the fly ineffective by expelling it from the patient’s stomach
and intestines.
Another incantation exorcises the disease pest from food, bedding, and
household articles. Although this recalls modern practices of disinfecting food
and other items because they may harbor bacteria and viruses (which mod-
ern microbiological techniques have been able to identify), the Egyptians were
unaware that these organisms existed: the intention of this spell was simply to
utilize magic as an effective means of cleansing the home.
The texts identify the wind, breath, or the arrows of night-demons (Sekhmet’s
messengers) as agents of hostility who could transmit disease malignancy to
mankind. The use of arrows is associated with the belief that diseases without
281
FIGURE 15.4 Statue of the lioness-headed goddess, Sekhmet, feared as the bringer of plagues and
epidemics to Egypt. She was worshipped as a principal deity of medicine, in order to placate her anger.
Eighteenth Dynasty. World Museum, Liverpool.
an obvious cause were the result of an external agent invading the body: the
arrows transmitted Sekhmet’s rage to the victim, who subsequently developed
a pathological condition.
The term “Asiatic” or “Canaanite” indicates that the disease was associated
in some way with neighboring lands, although it is unclear if this name implies
that the pestilence originated in these regions. An alternative speculation is that
the name possibly refers to the Asiatic population at Tell el-Dab’a in the Delta
who may have been affected by an unconfirmed epidemic in the Thirteenth
Dynasty. Later evidence indicates that the disease apparently arrived at the
28
282 { Rosalie David
turn of the year, coinciding with the Nile inundation, at a time of mythological
chaos and confusion when Sekhmet and her messengers caused destruction,
disease, and death. Inscriptions infer that the pestilence occurred regularly but
did not always result in death.
None of the texts clearly defines the symptoms associated with this condition,
making it impossible to specifically identify the disease. It was obviously a type
of epidemic pestilence, and possibilities include the biblical plagues and malaria.
However, Győry has suggested that the illnesses mentioned in the Edwin Smith
Papyrus can be identified with three diseases found in the Ebers Papyrus and
other sources, which may describe different types of well-known endemic febrile
diseases such as typhoid and dengue fever. The texts indicate that these illnesses
were spread by air or breath and were commonly defined by a fever that caused
physical weakness. Győry concludes that the term “pestilence of the year” prob-
ably did not apply to one specific disease but embraced a more diverse group of
infections that may have included typhoid, typhus, and dengue fever.
THE CYPRIAN PLAGUE
The Cyprian Plague is named after Cyprian, bishop of Carthage in Tunisia,

whose writings (De mortalitate) provide details of the dreadful symptoms suf-
fered by disease victims prior to death; these, he believed, presaged the end of
the world. His account probably describes a series of epidemics that occurred
across the Roman world in the third century CE.
Excavations carried out between 1997 and 2012 by the Italian Mission to
Luxor in the funerary complex of Harwa (TT 37) and Akhimenru (TT 404) in
western Thebes have revealed evidence that may relate to these epidemics.
Various findings indicate that, following the burial of Harwa and his successor,
Akhimenru, the place was used for body disposal during a period of plague.
Discoveries include three kilns where slaked lime (used as a disinfectant) was
produced; the remains of a large bonfire containing corpses, vessels, and par-
tially burnt bricks; and an assemblage of human remains covered with a thick
layer of lime.
Archaeologists have suggested that the complex was used, at least once,
for the disposal of large numbers of corpses during a disease outbreak. These
activities can be dated by the associated pottery to a narrow range that coin-
cides with epidemics that weakened the Roman Empire between 250 and 271
CE (generally acknowledged to be the Cyprian Plague). This disease—possibly
smallpox or measles—decimated the Roman Empire, perhaps killing more
than five thousand people a day, including the emperors Hostilian (251 CE) and
Claudius II Gothicus (270 CE). This funerary complex, never used again as a
conventional burial site, was rediscovered by tomb robbers in the nineteenth
century CE.
283
The Spread, Severity, and Aftermath of Epidemics in Egypt
Pharaonic Egypt may not have had a population large enough to support the
emergence of major epidemics, but otherwise, all climatic, environmental, and
domestic conditions conducive to these diseases were present. In addition,
there were famines (which may increase the body’s vulnerability to disease) and
significant population movements. These included not only foreign settlers who
entered Egypt during the Greco-Roman Period but also the incursions of the
Sea Peoples (reign of Ramesses III, Twentieth Dynasty) and the transfer of
prisoners-of-war to Egypt during the campaigns of the New Kingdom. The
large armies possessed by Egypt and her enemies also presented considerable
opportunities for the transmission of disease.
Evidence clearly indicates that epidemic-type diseases existed in ancient
Egypt and neighboring countries. Mesopotamian sources mention a pan-
demic fever (probably fifth century BCE) and an epidemic that afflicted weavers,
craftsmen, and agricultural workers at Mari; also, Babylonian astronomical
texts of the first millennium BCE include predictions relating to plagues and
epidemics. Bodies discovered at Tell el-Dab’a appear to have been disposed of
during an epidemic (Thirteenth Dynasty), and there are references to plagues
in the Amarna Letters, including the disease that ravaged the Egyptian base
at Sumar. One letter in this archive (EA 35), sent to the pharaoh by the king
of Alashiya (possibly Cyprus), states that he has only sent a small amount of
copper to Egypt because all his country’s copper-workers have been killed by
a plague.
The plague prayers of Mursil II describe an epidemic in Khatti that killed
King Suppiluliuma and his successor, Arnuwanda II. This disease was appar-
ently transmitted by Egyptian prisoners taken at the battle of Amka in Syria
(late Eighteenth Dynasty) and continued to afflict the Hittites for twenty
years. One of several foreign incantations in the London Medical Papyrus
(late Eighteenth Dynasty) is written in the “language of Keftiu (Crete),” and is
designed to counteract the “Canaanite illness.”
The Egyptians were sufficiently familiar with the concept of epidemic dis-
ease to envisage the need for special divine protection. Sekhmet fulfilled this
role: although the so-called Asiatic disease and possibly other epidemics were
attributed to this goddess, it was hoped that regular acts of worship would
appease her so that she would stop the spread of pestilence. She was doubtless
the recipient of special rituals and large-scale offerings made throughout Egypt
whenever these periodic threats occurred.
However, despite indications that epidemic-type diseases were present in
pharaonic Egypt, there is no conclusive evidence of widespread, devastating
plagues in any of the surviving literary, archaeological, or paleopathologi-
cal records. This perception may be erroneous, perhaps due to the chance of
284
284 { Rosalie David
discovery, and would perhaps need to be adjusted if further information was

ever forthcoming.
However, this lack of information may actually be due to the intrinsic limi-
tations of the Egyptian evidence. First of all, relatively few human remains
have been investigated to confirm or refute the presence of these diseases, and
the evidence, obtained mostly from bodies of the elite, provides an unbalanced
picture of overall disease patterns. Secondly, most indicators of epidemic dis-
ease are not preserved in human remains, and although new immunological
and molecular methods of detection offer great opportunities, they also pose
considerable technical challenges.
The literary sources are also problematic. The medical papyri provide no
clear-cut evidence of epidemic disease: symptoms are simply listed rather than
attributed to specific diseases, and many (for example, fever) can be indicative
of a wide variety of epidemic illnesses. Notably, some characteristic markers
of specific illnesses, such as the fever pattern associated with malaria or the
distinctive cutaneous vesicles observed in smallpox, are not mentioned in these
sources. In addition, some words and phrases, such as the “tumors of Khonsu,”
pose considerable translation difficulties.
Egyptian literature provides no extant historical account of a plague.
Again, this omission is perhaps not surprising: generally, Egyptian “histori-
cal” texts were not intended to recount current events, however momentous,
but to praise the pharaoh’s domestic and foreign achievements. However, a
true folk memory of devastating conditions associated with epidemics may
survive in the Admonitions of Ipuwer. This text, preserved in Papyrus Leiden
1116B (Eighteenth Dynasty), describes how the disintegration of Egyptian
society came about, as the result of widespread chaos, violence, robbery, mur-
der, foreign infiltration, famine, and disease. Scholars have disputed whether
this text, and other similar documents that comprise the so-called “Pessimistic
Literature,” are indeed historical accounts of events that actually happened,
perhaps at the end of the Old Kingdom and in the early years of the First
Intermediate Period, or whether they are purely rhetorical, a literary device for
discussing the concept of order versus chaos.
In contrast, classical writers provide contemporary descriptions of vari-
ous epidemics and plagues that occurred in Greek and Roman times. These
include a “new” disease (possibly bubonic plague, typhus, smallpox, measles,
or syphilis) in the fourth century BCE, which is said to have annihilated part
of the Athenian army and perhaps over a third of the Athenian population.
From the second century CE, a series of epidemics (perhaps including smallpox,
measles, or malaria) devastated the Roman Empire. These plagues decimated
the population of towns, obliterated villages, disrupted agricultural and social
patterns, and may even have contributed to the collapse of the Roman Empire.
Surprisingly, there is no evidence that Greco-Roman Egypt experienced epi-
demics or disruption on a similar scale, although significant immigration at
285
this time from other areas of the Hellenistic and Roman empires would have
exposed both the host population and incomers to new diseases.
In summary, the extent of epidemic disease and the role it played in phara-
onic and Greco-Roman Egypt remain unclear. In order to produce significant
new data, much more extensive examination of human remains, focusing on
immunological and molecular techniques, is required. Additionally, reassess-
ment and reinterpretation of some of the medical papyri could provide fresh
insight into this challenging area of Egyptology.
286
287
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32
3
INDEX
Page numbers in italics indicate illustrations.
Ancient Egyptian Terms (Transliterations)

Note: Egyptian words with anglicized spellings, as well as all other foreign words, are included in the
main index.
Iȝsii (place name), 26 ḥḳȝ (“ruler,” “great king”), 88

Ym (“Sea”), 196, 197 ḥsy, 76
iwtn (“earth”), 197 ḥḳȝ ḫȝst (“ruler of foreign lands”), 73
inw (“what is brought,” “supply”), 90
inst (type of seed), 41 ḫȝswt (“foreign land”), 80
ḫp, 198
ʿȝm, ʿȝmw (“Asiatic[s]‌”) 63, 73 ḫmm, 199
ʿw (“interpreter), 72
ʿntyw (“incense,” “myrrh[?]‌”), 25 ẖrd n kȝp (“child of the kap”), 91
ʿḥʿ (type of ship), 32
ʿš (coniferous wood) 26 kȝi (type of boat), 26
kȝp, 91
wpwtyw nsw r ḫȝst nb (“king’s messengers to kmt (“Black Land,” i.e., Egypt), 80
every foreign country”), 84 kḏn (“chariot soldier”), 102
wpwtyw nsw r tȝ nb (“king’s messengers to every
land”), 84 Sȝww (place name), 27–28
wr (“great one”), 88 snnj (“charioteer”), 102
sḫmḫ ib (“diversion of the heart,” i.e.,
biȝ n pt (“iron from heaven”), 254 entertainment), 202
biȝw (“wonders”), 90
bȝr (type of ship), 32 šw (place name), 73
bȝkw (“that which is produced”), 90 šmw (“harvest season”), 257
šmm, 199
pȝ ym (“the sea”), 196
Pʿ-di- (component of a personal name), 161 ḳrʿw (“shield bearer”), 102
prt (“growing season”), 257 ḳrr (type of ship), 32
mʿȝt (“cosmic order”), 67 tȝ (“land,” i.e., Egypt), 80

mfȝt? (“desert glass”), 41 tȝ mtwt (“the poison”), 198
mnmn (“earthquake”), 244
mnš (type of ship), 32 ṯḥnt (“shining stone”), 41
dwȝ.i tȝ (“let me praise”), 197
N.j-N.jt (royal name), 184 dšrt (“Red Land,” i.e., desert), 80
nwr-tȝ (“earthquake”), 244
nb n ḫȝswt nbt (“lord of all the lands”), 82 ḏd-ḳʿ-rʿ (personal name: Djedkare), 158
nhnhȝ (“earthquake”), 244
rrt (goddess), 234
ḥry snnjw (“overseer of charioteers”), 102
333
34
35
MAIN INDEX
Abu Ballas trail, 6, 7, 40 Amarna Letters

Abu Simbel, temple at, 140 Anatolia and Tigris-Euphrates region covered
Abydos, tombs at, 64, 120, 184 in, 6–7
Actiuim, naval battle of, 34 Babylonia, communication with, 12
Adapa and the Southwind, 210 cuneiform tablets, 171, 172
Admonitions of Ipuwer, 25, 284 diplomacy content of, 85–87, 86
Aegean international correspondence, 209
domination of, 30 material goods covered in, 88–89
exchange with, 31 plague references in, 283
goods, dispersal of, 27 Amduat, 5
importance of, 32 Amenemhat I, 124
influence of, 148 Amenemhat II, 96, 104, 124–125
as literary setting, 13 Amenemhat of Beni Hassan, 97
place names, topographical lists of, 16 Amenhotep I, 29, 56
religious beliefs and practices, 229–237 Amenhotep II, 129, 215
scarabs, 161 Amenhotep III
Aegeans, 68, 73 Aegean diplomatic mission during reign of, 32
Aegean Sea, 242 ailments, curing, 272
Aegean wars, 26 construction by, 265–266
Africa, circumnavigation of, 16–17 correspondence, 172
Africa, East, 57 scarabs, 153, 163
African imports to Egypt, 39 statues, 244, 245
African tectonic plate, 242 topographical lists from reign of, 16
afterlife, beliefs concerning, 203–204, 213 trade during reign of, 129
agriculture, 259, 266–267 Amenhotep IV, 229
Aha, King, 117, 119 Amenhotep son of Hapu, 168–169
Ahhotep, tomb of, 139–140 Amka, battle of, 283
Ahmose, son of Ebana, 99 Ammianus Marcellinus, 244, 246
Ahmose I, 250 amulets, Egyptian-style, 144, 145
Akestor, King (from Cyprus), 148 amulets, seal, 149
Akhenaten, mother of, 83 Amun (god), 172, 222–223, 229–230
akhet (“horizon”), 231 Amun-Re (god), 72
Akhimenru (TT 404), 282 Amun temples, 223–224
Akhu (demon), 214 Anat (goddess), 198, 215, 216, 217
Akkadian language, 85, 171, 185 Anatolia
ʾalep (letter), 193 Egyptian knowledge of, 8
Alexander the Great, 34, 268 Hittite empire in, 189
Alexandria, 34, 246, 268 roadways in, 51
Algeria, 152 scarabs in, 151
alphabet, invention of, 190–192 as terra incognita, 6–7
alphabets, examples of, 191 writing system, 188–189
Amarna, glassware at, 177 animals from wet climate, 259, 262–263, 267
Amarna, religion of, 210 ankh (“life”) sign, 187, 187, 211, 212, 231, 233
Amarna Diplomacy (Cohen and Westbrook), 11 Ankhtifi (warlord), 25
Amarna Hymn, 71–72 Anopheles mosquitoes, 275
335
36
336 { Main Index
Antef Song, 203–204 Babylonian Great King, 12

Antinoopolis, 267 bacillary dysentery, 273
Antiquities of the Jews, 87 Bahr Yusuf, 266
Anuket (goddess), 222 Ballad of the Early Rulers, The, 204
Aperel (New Kingdom high official), 76 Bates, Oric, 6
Aphrodite, Temple of, 161 Bedouin hunters and bodyguards, 49
Apu and His Sons Right and Wrong, 198–199 Bedouin residents, 41
Aqaba, Gulf of, 242 beds, Egyptian-style, 137
Arabah, southern, 43 Bes (god), 144, 211, 212–213, 214, 217
Arabia, 36, 43, 45, 57 Beset (goddess), 213
Arabians, 28 bet (letter), 191–192
archaeology sources, 62–63 Beth Shean, scarab manufactured at, 159
Archimedes, 168 biblical pharaoh, 273
architecture, 2, 133–148 biblical plagues, 273
areas, scouting and securing, 35 biblical texts, translations of, 199
Arnuwanda II, 283 Bietak, Manfred, 96, 109, 236
arrows as disease agent, 280–281 birket (“basin”), 265–266
art black mold, 273
cultural interaction in, 133–148 black rat, 274
foreign influence on, 2 Blue Nile, 257
Mesopotamia influences on, 63 boats
visual, 195 in iconography, 19
Ashurbanipal of Assyria, 33 inscriptions featuring, 23
Asia, 98–99, 100 of Lebanese cedar, 26, 27
“Asiatic” (“Canaanite”) disease, 280–282, 283 in state formation and kingship records, 20
Asiatic goods, 27 bodies, preservation of, 272–273
Asiatics Boghazkoy (Hittite capital), 87, 195
depiction of, 72–73 Book of Exodus, 273
as foreigner prototypes, 68 Book of the Dead, 76, 144, 173
in Lahun, 63 Book of Thoth, 169–170
military expeditions against, 124 bow and quiver, 98
in northeastern Delta, 28 Bronze Age, 2, 106–108
overthrowing of, 26 bronze weaponry, 139–140, 175–176
Aspelta, King, “cylinder sheath” of, 225 brotherhood metaphor, 83, 89
association, human principals of, 2 bubonic plague, 273–275
Assur-uballit, King of Middle Assyrian Empire, 83 Buhen, 122
Assyrian royal courts, 174 buildings, construction materials for, 22
Astarte (god), 32–33, 196, 198, 215, 217 bulla, 150
Astarte Papyrus, 196, 197, 210 burial goods, 118–119, 120
astral theology, 233–234 Byblos
astronomy, Egyptian, 169 deities, 146–147
Aswan, 33, 267, 279–280 as intermediary site, 26
Aswan Dam, 261, 269 literary treatment of, 33
Atargatis (god), 217 ruler as servant of Egypt, 125
Athens, classical, 169 scarabs in, 153
autocompaction, 248 stela from, 213
Avaris. See Tell el-Dabʾa (ancient Avaris) temples at, 138–139
avulsion, 247–248 ties to, 28
Ay, tomb of, 201 as trade center, 8
Ayn Soukhna, 24, 25 as trading partner, 22, 26–27, 117, 123, 128
ba-birds, 211–212 Byblos ships, 22, 23, 138
Baal (god), 32–33, 146, 198, 215, 217 “cabinet of curiosities” (Thutmose III), 9
Baal-Zaphon (god), 211 Canaan
37
Main Index } 337
campaigns against, 103 Amarna archive of, 171

maritime trade with, 21 diplomatic content of, 87
military garrisons in, 56 Mesopotamian and Hittite, 189
pottery, 28 overview of, 185–186
scarabs, 157, 164, 187–188 in Piramesse, 172
war, 106 writing, examples of, 186
“Canaanite” disease, 280–282, 283 Cyprian bishop of Carthage, 282
Canaanites. See Hyksos Cyprian plague, 282
Canaanite wine, 22 Cypriot seals, 160
Canaan-type fabrics, 64 Cyprus, 29
Canticles, book of, 202, 203
Capture of Joppa, 204 Dahshur, 243
carpe diem motif, 205 Dakhla Oasis, 56, 259, 279
Carthage, sealings from, 149, 151 dalal (“surveyor”), 260
cattle, 267 dancing female, animal head over, 233
cattle-raising terminology, 171 Dapur, battle at, 105
Celebi, Evvliya, 265 Darius I, 33, 271
chariot deben (ancient unit of weight), 129
development and overview of, 175, 179 deceit, 84, 85
economic role of, 110 Dedwen (god), 222
Egyptian military use of, 11, 102–103, 104–106 deffufas (Nubian mud-brick temple), 136, 136,
chariot division (of Egyptian army), 99–100, 109 140, 220
Childe, V. G., 62 Deir el-Bahri, 251
children, diplomatic exchange of, 90, 91 Deir el-Medina, stela from, 216
Christianity, 217 Delta
cippi, 55 avulsion effects in, 247–248
city-states, 80 battle against, 107
clamps, stone structure reinforcement with, 246, distributor channels in, 268
246–247, 249 extension, gradual of, 267
Clayton rings, 40 Palestinian settlement in, 14
climate change, 257, 259 Sinai land bridge access from, 42
clubfoot deformity, 276 trading settlements in, 33
coffins, 141, 141, 146, 213–214 tsunami impact on, 246
colonial, male viewpoint, 60 desertification, 263
“commander of a host” (term), 94 Dietler, Michael, 134
composite bows, 175–176, 179 diffusion and migration compared, 167–168
Constantinople, 275 diplomacy
contacts, interpretation of, 63–66, 72–74 agents of, 82–85
Contendings of Horus and Seth, The, 197, defined, 79
198–199, 210 foundations of, 79–82
convergence (technology), 179 instruments of, 85–92, 86
correspondence in diplomacy, 83–84, 85–87, 86 diplomatic actors, 2
Crates, 168 “diplomatic brotherhood” (term), 83
creation myths, 210 diplomatic correspondence, 83–84, 85–87, 86
Cretan art and religion, 229, 230, 233 diplomatic interactions, 79, 83
Cretan hieroglyphs, 188, 188–189 diplomatic marriage, 90, 91–92
Crocodile Island, 265 diplomatic personnel, 84–85
Crocodilopolis medical book, 174 diseases
cults, pharaoh as head of, 111 of foreign origin, 271–272
cultural entanglement, model of, 134 spread of, 2, 272–277, 279–282
cultural innovations, 168 divine kingship (concept), 210
cultural transmission, 134 Djati, 26
cuneiform Djer, King, 119–120
alphabet, 183 dominance and parity, 80–82
38
338 { Main Index
dovetail clamps, 246, 246, 247, 249 Egyptian bone tag, 184

earthquakes, 241–247, 245 Egyptian elite, 62
East African Rift, 257 Egyptian exploration, modern knowledge
Eastern Desert concerning, 6–8
Egypt connection to, 36, 39–40, 41–42 Egyptian exports
expeditions to, 121 to Eastern Desert, 42
as knowledge area, 14 to Near East, 46–47
Red Sea, reaching through, 23 to Nubia and sub-Saharan Africa, 37–38
wealth from, 129 to Sinai Peninsula, 44
Ebers Papyrus, 274, 282 to Western Desert, 40–41
Ebla, 123 Egyptian imports
Eblaite language, 185 from Africa, 39
Ecclesiastes, 204 from Eastern Desert, 42
economic interests, 9 by Minoans, 128
Edwin Smith Surgical Papyrus, 280, 282 from Near East, 47–48
Egypt, ancient from Nubia, 39
art and iconography, 134–135, 137–138 from Sinai and Arabia, 44–45
boundaries of, 95, 100 from Western Desert, 41
centrality and supremacy (concept), 83 Egyptian physicians, 271
civilization, emergence of, 170 Egyptianization (concept), 133–134
conquest of, 210–211 Egyptianizing cylinder seal, 212
cultural interactions, 62 Egyptian king, greatness of, 12–13
dominant-subordinate relationships, 133–134 Egyptian market, 31
foreign invasions (with naval components), 33 “Egyptian material” (defined), 64
founding of, 72 Egyptians, ancient
geography, 209 cultural contacts between, 62
as gift of Nile, 257, 270 knowledge, 6
as human civilization source, 168 as nationalists, 71–72
iconography, 74 Egyptian sources, 62
language, 168 Egyptian troops, transportation and
literature, 210 support of, 25
maps, 116, 258 Egyptocentric ideology
material culture in style of, 140 goods exchange influenced by, 88
modern perceptions of, 61 maintaining, 1
natural resources, 115 overview of, 209
navy, 34 upholding, 92
Persian occupation of, 33–34 Egyptology, cultural-historical approach to, 60–61
pottery, 21, 219 Egyptology sources, 62–63
religious beliefs and practices, 215 Egypto-Minoan contacts, 229
religious interactions, 219–220, 226–227, 229–237 Egypto-Minoan relations, 236
reunification of, 26 El-Badari, site of, 259
scarabs outside, 151–152, 154–162, 157 Electronic Corpus of Sumerian Literature, 202
technologies and styles, 135–136 Elephantine
unification of, 109, 259 border at, 127
writing and script systems, 170, 184, 185, gods at, 260
186–188, 195, 259 incursions from, 124
“Egyptian” (defined), 64 Jewish colony at, 217
Egyptian, ancient Nubian contact, evidence at, 70
literature, 72 ehlipakku (Hurrian term), 177
Egyptian army. See also military elite, information from, 62
chariotry within, 98, 99–100 elite tombs, goods found in, 64
composition of, 102, 107, 109 Eloquent Peasant, The, 41, 49, 116
overview of, 109 empire, Egyptian, 98–101, 130–131, 140
reach of, 12 enemies, fallen, cutting hands off of, 69
structure of, 99–100 enemy/prisoner, slaying (motif), 67, 67–68, 68
39
Main Index } 339
Enlil and Namzitara, 204 Gaza, 100

envoys, 84–85 Geb (Earth god), 244
epidemic diseases, 272–277, 279–285, 281 Gebel Barkal, 222, 223
Erani, 64 Gebel Barkal, Temple at, 144
Eritrea/Ethiopia, 57 Gebel el-Arak knife, 63
Esna Shale, 251–252 Gebel Sheikh Suleiman, petroglyph at, 21, 21
ethnic identities, differentiating, 2 gemasertem Steatit, scarabs in, 160–161, 161
Etruscan scarabs, 162 geographical knowledge, 9, 12
European exceptionalism, 5 geological hazards, 241–255
Evans, Arthur, 230 gezireh (“raised sandbank”), 268
Events (Ammianus Marcellinus), 244, 246 Gibraltar, Strait of, 16
Everything Is Worthless, 204 gifts, 89–90
Exodus, Book of, 273 Gilgamesh Epic, 204
exotic, role of, 173–174 glass production, 175, 176–178
expeditions global cooling, 257–258
cargo and goods, 55–56 global empires, 11
equipment and supplies, 49–50 Gnostic texts, 217
hazards, 55 gods
massacre of, 23 bronze statues of, 146–147
types and composition of, 49 eastern, 214–215, 217
exploration Egyptian, 195, 211–214
area of, 15–17 export of, 209
definition and overview of, 5–6, 13 foreign, recognition of, 230
evolutionary scheme of, 9, 11 iconography of, 210
knowledge, acquiring through, 9 incorporation of foreign, 209
local, 195
faience “god’s land” (defined), 14
Aegean, 179 gold mining, 56
industry, 141–142 grave goods, 118–119, 120
techniques, 162 Great Frontier, The (Webb), 14
workshops, 137, 161 Great Hymn to Aten, 201–202
falcons (figurines), 8 Greek alphabet, 191
famines, 263, 283 Greek medicine, 271
finished goods, 117 Greeks, scarabs influenced by, 161–162
firstborn children, death of, 273 Greeks, trade by, 33
flash floods, 241, 250–251 griffon, 139–140
flood-control dams, 250–251, 251 Györy, 282
floods, 241, 247–251
food security, 257 Hammarig (god), 198
forced labor, 69 Hapi (god), 260
foreigners harpers’ songs, 203–205
contact as health hazard, 272 ḫarṯibe (Assyrian term), 173
Egyptian attitude toward, 61 Harwa funerary complex (TT 37), 282
identity, 74 Hathor (goddess), 147, 190, 191, 211–212, 213,
in Lahun, 63 215, 217, 222, 233
status of, 72 Hatshepsut, Queen
stereotypes versus reality, 66–68 chariot production during reign of, 175
foreign influence, 1–2 expeditions sponsored by, 11, 29
foreign. See also non-Egyptian south, activities concentrating on, 30
landscapes, navigating across, 51, 55 temple of, 271
resources, 2 trade during reign of, 127
Four Sons of Horus, 143 Ḫattuša (Hittite capital), 87, 195
frankincense, 11 Hattusili, Hittite King, 81
frontier relationship with “metropolis,” 14 Hattusili III, Hittite King, 87, 91–92
fugitives, 48, 69 Hauron (god), 215
340
340 { Main Index
Hearst Medical Papyrus, 274 hymnodic literature, 201–202

Hebrew alphabet, 191 Hymn to Ramses III, 196
Hebrew Bible, 210
Hebrews, slavery, release from, 273 ideas, exchange of, 2, 170
Heka (god), 174 identity, shared versus other, 79–80
Hekanefer, 76–77 Imhotep, 168–169
Hellenic Arc, 242, 243, 244, 253 immigrants, 75–76, 180–181
hemektu (Semitic term), 172 immigrants, knowledge acquired from, 13
Hermopolis, 267 Imsety (son of Horus), 143
Herodotus, 16, 270, 257, 268 Imy (expedition leader), 10
Hethiter.net, 197, 198 India, 57
Hierakompolis, 259 innovation, ancient attitudes toward, 173
hieratic script, 185 Instruction of Amenemope, 199–200, 202
hieroglyphic writing system, 170, 185, 186–193, Instruction of Ptahhotep, The, 84
188, 195, 230–231 Instructions of Šupe-Ameli, 204
High Dam, 269 interconnections, geographical contexts of, 2
higher-status individuals, view of self, 62 intercultural borrowings, 134
Hippocrates, 272 Intermediate Period, First, 95–96
Hippocratic Corpus, 275 Intermediate Period, Second, 97–98, 126–127
Histories (Herodotus), 16 international economy, 29
Hittite-Egyptian peace treaty, 12 International Style, 145
Hittite Empire, 130, 189 international trade, 2, 33
Hittites intestinal schistosomiasis, 273
diseases affecting, 283 Iron Age, 2
Egyptian relations with, 88 Iron Age scarab and scaraboid “groups,”
gods, 214 159–160
grain to, 130 irrigation, 263
in Kadesh campaign, 105 Ishtar (goddess), 272
treaties with, 130 Isis (goddess), 161, 212, 234–235
writing system, 186, 189 islands formed in Nile, 264–265
hods (“agricultural area”), 260 Israel coast, 21
Homer, 125
hometown, burial in, 71 John Cassian, 246
Horemheb, 50
horses, 98, 101, 104–105, 110 Kadashman-Enlil, King of Babylon, 90
Horus (sun god), 160–161, 211–212, 215, 219 Kadesh campaign
Horus, Ways of. See Ways of Horus accounts of, 103–104
Horus-the-child, 211–212 battle reliefs of, 101
House of Life, Sais, 271 chariot-based attack, 105
Hu (god), 174 chariot tactics at, 104–106
human civilization, source of, 168 expedition against, 48
human remains, 46 victory, 107
human sacrifices, 220, 221 visual narration of, 107
Hurro-Hittite literature, 195, 196, 197 Kaelin, O., 210
Hyksos Kamil Crater, 254–255
chariots used by, 175 Kamose (Theban king), 29, 175
domination, opposition to, 110 kap (letter), 192
expulsion of, 179 Karnak temple
gods, 215 art at, 52–53, 67, 68
kings, 150–151 flood protection, 248–249
Mediterranean maritime trade by, 29 structure reinforcement, 246, 249
northeastern Delta ruled by, 28 Kemp, Barry, 169
rule, 98 Kerma, kingdom of
scarabs from, 38 art and architecture, 135–136
trade under rule of, 126 cemeteries, 136
writing system, 187–188, 190, 192 Nubian civilization, 220–221
341
Main Index } 341
rise of, 25 hostilities in, 32
royal tombs, 224 literature, 195–199
Kerma Dokki Gel, temples at, 142 military operations in, 30
Kermans, 222–223 pottery, 120, 121, 128
Kharga Oasis, 258 roadways in, 51
Khayan (Khyan), Hyksos pharaoh, 230 scarabs in, 151, 152, 156, 158, 160
Khenty-She (probably Lebanon), 26 seals, 160
Khety, King, 96 settlement patterns in, changes in, 27
Khnumhotep II, 72–73 southern, 108, 197
Khnumhotep III, 96 ties to, 28
Khunanup (trader), 116 writing systems, 186–188, 195
king Levantine/Canaanite wine, 22
as agent of diplomacy, 82–84 Levantine Painted Ware, 65
battles, participation in, 100 levees, 261–262
battles, presence at, 102–103, 104–106 Libya, 16, 95–96, 106–107, 108
bellicose representations of, 110 Libyans, 73, 74, 75, 108
hoe carried by, 261–262, 262 livestock, 267–268
as leader of army, 97 livestock disease, 273
Kings, Book of, 230 London Medical Papyrus, 174, 274, 283
kingship, records of, 20 love songs, 202–203
kings’ wives, foreign, 13, 76, 90, 91 Luxor, Italian Mission to, 282
Knossos, seal from, 234 Luxor temple, 249
knowledge, types of, 9
knowledge of past, limits to, 6 Maat (goddess), 217
known world-“beyond” relationship, 14 maat (“universal order,” “truth”), 199, 263, 270
kohl pots, 65 Maathorneferure (wife of Ramesses II), 91–92
Kom el-Hetan, 244, 245 Mackenzie, Donald, 175
Kom el-Hisn, 267 magic, innovation in, 173–174
kôms (“hills”), 260, 269 magic and religion, 169
Kor (Buhen South), 37 magico-medical texts, 173–174
Koṯar-waḪasis (god), 195 Maiherperi (royal fan bearer), 76
Kurru, Sudan, 224 malaria, 275–276
Kush, kingdom of Malkata palace, 266
campaign against, 97 Manichaeism, 217
dynasties, 142 Mari, epidemic at, 283
protection against, 126 Mari, tombs at, 163
pyramids, 143 maritime connections, 19–34
rise of, 28, 135 maritime trade
wealth of, 127 ebb, 25
KV5 (tomb), 273 marriage, diplomatic, 90, 91–92
KV14 (tomb), 234, 234 “Marriage Vase,” 91
Marsa Matruh, 31, 33
Lahun settlement, 63 material culture, 134, 135
land and water travel, 36, 51 material goods, exchanges of, 88–90
landslides, 241, 251–252 Mathematical Leather Roll, 169
languages, exchange of, 2 medicine, deity of, 281
lapis lazuli, 7–8, 8, 121, 122 medicine, Egyptian, 169, 173–174, 271–272
Latin alphabet, 191 Mediterranean coast, 243
Lebanese cedar (Cedrus libani), 22 Mediterranean Sea
leg and ankle deformities, 278–279 eastern, maps of, 118
leprosy, 279–280 foreign connections and interactions, 35
Levant maritime traffic, 19, 30–32
coast, 26 trade, 28
Egypt contact and control over, 45 Mediterranean shoreline, 21–22
Egyptian influence on, 138, 195–196 Megiddo, 48, 103–104, 105, 146, 214
gods, 198 Mehet-Weret (cow goddess), 233
342
342 { Main Index
mekku (Akkadian term), 177 motifs, international blend in, 145

Memphis, 195, 262, 265 Muhammad Ali, 269
Memphite region, 43 Müller, Willi, 16, 17
mercenaries, travel by, 179 mummification processes, 272–273
Merenptah, 74, 106–107, 108 Mursi II, 283
Mesopotamia Mycenaeans, 73–74
cultural innovations in, 210 “my soldiers” (phrase), 95
cylinder seals, 184 Mysterious Lands (O’Connor and Quirke), 5
Egyptian influence on, 8 mythological tales, 196–199
Egypt interaction with, 7
literature, 2–3, 197 Napata, 143, 223–226
scarabs in, 151 Naqada II, 21
writing and script systems, 184, 185 Naqada IIc, 20
metals and minerals, 35 Narmer mace head, 262
meteorite impacts, 254–255 Narmer Palette, 20
“metropolis” (defined), 14 Nasser, Gamal Abdel, 269
Middle Kingdom, 96–97, 124–126 Nasser, Lake, 257, 269
migrants, 75–76 nationalists, Egyptians as, 71–72
migration, 167–168, 178, 271 nation-states, 80
miliitary technology, 110, 175–176, 180 natural events, 2
military. See also Egyptian army Naukratis type scarabs, 161–162
ethos of, 104 nautical iconography, 21
in First Intermediate Period, 95–96 nautical technologies, 19, 23
logistics, tactics, ethos, 101–104 naval battles, 32
in Middle Kingdom, 96–97 naval expeditions, 23
in New Kingdom, 98–104, 111 naval operations
in Old Kingdom, 93–95 in Levant, 30
pharaonic expansion role of, 2 navy, 93, 96, 109
in Second Intermediate Period, 97–98 Near East, 36, 45–48, 137–138
synthesis, 109–111 Nebhepetre Mentuhotep II, 95–96
military bases, 56 Necho II, 16
military campsite, establishing, 50 Nefertiti, Queen, 154
military combat, 105 Neith (goddess), 233
military might, dominance relationship to, 81 “Neo-Hyksos” scarabs, 164
mimesis (concept), 67 Nergal and Ereshkigal, 210
Min (god), 216, 217 Netjeruimes (Nemtimes?)/Pirikhnawa
Minoan art and religion, 232, 236–237 (Egyptian ambassador), 12
Minoan Crete, 125, 156, 236–237 New Kingdom, 98–104, 111, 127–131
Minoan eruption, 253, 254 Newton, Roy, 176
Minoan genius (hybrid creature), 234, Nicholson, Paul, 177, 178
235–236 Nile
Minoan murals, 236 access to, 32
Minoan objects, 231–232 Asiatic and Aegean goods dispersed along
Minoan pottery, 28 length of, 27
Minoans, 73–74, 128 flooding of, 115, 241, 247–249, 258, 261,
Minoan seal, 235 281–282
Minoan-style paintings, 148 foreign connections and interactions, 35
miracles, 14–15 geological events, 257–270
Mitanni, gods of, 230 god of, 261
Mithras (god), 217 as infantry troops conduit, 93
Moje, Jan, 17 maps, 258
Mokyr, Joel, 179–180 military push on, 29
monuments, construction materials for, 22 in modern times, 269–270
Morenz, Siegfried, 5 myths, 264
Morocco, 152 settlement unification through, 19
34
Main Index } 343
trade goods transported via, 117 offering tables, 225–226

water management, 268–269 official ideology, 66–71
Nile floodplain, 260, 269 offspring, diplomatic exchange of, 90–92
Nile rat, 274 Old Kingdom, 11–12, 25, 93–95, 120–124
Nile Valley, 40, 250, 263–264, 265 Oriental Institute Expedition, 219
nilometers, 261, 262 Osiris (god), 196, 233–234
“Nimrud ivories,” 152 Osorkon III, 248
non-Egyptian. See also foreign “other,” influence of, 209
gods, 66 “other,” view of, 71
people, 75–76 overland travel
scarabs, 155–162 aspects of, 48–51, 55–56
non-local people, Egyptian attitude forts and way stations, 52–53
toward, 61 increase in, 56–57
non-royal children, education of, 91 means of, 35
Nubia routes, 35–36, 48–49, 51, 56
art and architecture, 134–135, 142–143, ox head as divine head, 233
219–220
campaigns in, 26, 101, 109 Palermo Stone, 25
Egypt connection to, 36–39 Palestine
Egyptian influence on, 140–141, 142–143, 148, battles against, 107
219–220, 221–223, 226–227 campaign into southern, 95
Egyptianization of, 14 coast of, 108
Egyptian presence scaled back in, 28 Egyptianization of, 14
Egyptian victory in, 21 Egyptian materials from southern, 75
loss of, 130 people from, depiction of, 73
maps, 119 resistance, end to, 100
material culture, reach of, 135 palettes, 63
pyramids, 143–144 pan-graves, 70
religious practices, 219–220, 221–223, Papyrus Chester Beatty VIII vs. 1.5-2.4, 198
226–227 Papyrus Leiden, 198, 284
wealth transport from, 26, 129 Papyrus Sallier IV, 215
Nubia, Lower ParaSightTM-F test, 276
Egyptian miitary forays into, 119 parity, 80–82, 92
invasion of, 135 Path Temple, 265
Middle Kingdom forts, Egyptian Pepinakht Heqaib, 23
reoccupation of, 38 Perry, W. J., 168
repopulation of, 25 Persian Empire, 33–34
temples in, 221–222 Persian Occupation, First, 33
trade with, 118 Persian royal courts, 174
vanquishing of, 26 Persian scarabs, 162
warfare in, 95–96 Petrie, Flinders, 177
wealth and goods from, 36, 123 Phaistos Disk, 188
Nubian Pan-grave culture, 14 pharaohs
Nubian rulers, Egyptian symbol use by, 21 foreign influence on, 1
Nubians as military leaders, 109, 110–111
contact with, 70 “Pharaoh’s land” (defined), 13
cookware indicating presence of, 28 Phoenicians
depiction of, 73, 76, 77 as artisans, 147–148
Egyptian attitude toward, 68 scarabs, 154, 160–161, 161, 164
Egyptian iconography adopted by, 74 trade by, 33
as mercenaries, 96 Piankhy’s Victory Stela, 223–224
pictorial evidence, 62–63
obelisks, 138–139 Piramesse (Qantir), 130, 171–172
O’Connor, David, 5, 6–7 Piye of Kush, 33
Odyssey (Homer), 125 Plague of Justinian, 275
34
344 { Main Index
plagues, 273–275, 281, 283–284 rabunna (Semitic term), 172

police, 48, 49, 56 Ramesses II
poliomyelitis, 276, 278–279 campaigns, presence at, 105, 105–106
political interests, knowledge furthering, 9 correspondence, 87
population transfer, 271 Hittites, dealings with, 88, 130
Portugal, 152 Kadesh, expedition against, 48, 103–104, 105
pottery, 64–65, 66, 171 marriage, 81
prisoners of war queenly correspondence allowed by, 83–84
from Egyptian military expeditions, 91 temple of, 140
killing of, 68 Ramesses III
religious influences of, 210 as biblical pharaoh, 273
resettlement of, 66, 283 death, 130
status of, 75–76 Egyptian graffito from reign of, 15
technology spread, role in, 179 Egyptian merchant fleet under, 32
Procopius, 275 Egypt maintained under, 107
Proto-Canaanite script, 193 Libyans, skirmishes with mentioned by, 74
Proto-cuneiform script, 184 Red Sea fleet during reign of, 29, 33
Proto-Sinaitic letters, 191 reliefs of, 106
Proto-Sinaitic script, 193 Tayma Oasis, contact with, 45
Proverbs, Book of, 199–200 temple, battle scene depicted at, 32
Psalm 104, 210 wars faced by, 108
Psalm 104:20-30, 201 Ramesses IX, 56
Pseira, Crete, vase from, 232, 232–233 Ramesses V, mummy of, 277, 277
“Pseudo-Hyksos” scarabs, 164 Ramesses VI, 131
psychological factors in diplomacy, 79–80 Ramesses XI, 131
Ptah (god), 195, 196 ram-headed deity, 234
Ptolemaic Greek rulers, 34 ram’s head, 233–234
Punt Ratzel, Friedrich, 167–168
access to, 25 raw materials, 35, 63, 117
expeditions to, 6, 11, 29, 123, 124, 130 Ray, John, 168
goods from, 119, 127–128, 130 Re (god), 214, 215, 233–234
as literary setting, 13 reciprocity in goods exchange, 89
maritime trade with, 33 Red Sea
Red Sea trade with, 27 Egyptian ships in, 29–30
textual trace of, 25 expedition to, 28–29
trade with, 90, 122 foreign connections and interactions, 35
wealth from, 129 as land trading route alternative, 25
Puntites, 29–30 port, Egyptian, first known, 24
Pusch, Edgar, 177 rift, 242
pyramids, 143–144, 224, 224 trade, 27, 28, 116
Pythagoras, 168 traffic flows, 19
travel via, 22–23
qanats (underground chains of wells), 258 regions, scouting and securing, 35
Qantir (Piramesse), 130, 171–172 religion
Qasr el-Sagha, temple of, 244 interconnections, 209–217
Qedeshet (goddess), 215, 216, 217 magic and, 169
Qudšu (Levantine god), 198 objects, 219–220
queen osmosis, limits to, 230
as agent of diplomacy, 83–84 Renenutet (goddess), 196, 197
gaining position as, 90–91 Report of Wenamun, The, 33, 55
tombs, 144 Resheph (god), 146, 198, 215, 216, 217
Quirke, Stephen, 5, 6–7 resources, prospecting for new, 35
quiver, types of, 176 Ritner, Robert, 174
Qurnet Murai, 252 Roma (temple doorkeeper), 276
Qustul incense burner, 219–220 Roman Empire, 275
345
Main Index } 345
Roman medicine, 271 sepiru (Aramaic term), 172

Roman repair of earthquake damage, 245 Serabit el-Khadem, Sinai, 190, 191
routes, overland, 35–36, 48–49, 51, 56 serekh hieroglyph, 183–184, 184, 219
royal families, intermarriage between, 90 Seth (god), 196–197, 198, 214, 215, 217, 235
royal flotilla, 96 Seth-Baal (god), 215
royal tombs, 224, 250 Sety I, 52–53, 103
Russell, Bertrand, 9 Shalmanasar, Fort, 152
Sharuhen kingdom, 99
sacral horns, 231–232 Shauska (goddess), 229
sacral knot, 231, 231 Shauskagawa (goddess), 214
Sadd el Kafara, 250–251, 251 Sheikh Abd el-Qarna, 252, 252
Sahara, 39 Sheikh Muftah culture, 40
Sahure, King, 11, 122 Shemu (“harvest season”), 264
sail, 19, 20, 21 Sherden, 102, 107, 108
Šala (Levantine god), 198 Sheshi/Maaibra, seal of, 149
salmonella, 280 shield-bearer class, 102
šar kiššati (Akkadian term), 82 shipbuilding, Egyptian, 32–33
šarru rabû (Akkadian term), 83 ships (logistics), 30
Satet (god), 222 Sia (god), 174
Satire of Trades, 55 sickle-shaped sword, 100
Saudi Arabia, 15 signs, flow of, 184
scarabs Sinai
from Carthage, 150 conifers growing in, 22
case studies, 2 Egypt connection to, 36
diplomatic and geopolitical factors, 152–153 maps, 116
Hyksos, 38, 150–151 mines, 129, 131
longevity of, 162–164 northern, 43–44, 48
non-Egyptian, 155–162 south, 43
omnipresence of, 151–155 southwest, 43
overview of, 149–151 writing systems, 190
social and cultural significance of, 154–155 Sinai Peninsula, 25, 42–45
in tombs, 65 Sinai turquoise mines, 23
trading of, 153–154 Sinuhe (literary figure), 7, 12
science, 167, 168–170 Siptah, mummy of, 276, 278–279
scientific interest, knowledge furthering, 9 Sitz im Leben, 203
scouting, 35 Siwah Oasis, 40
Scorpion, King, 259 smallpox, 277, 277, 279
script, turning pictures into, 190 Smith, Gordon Elliot, 168, 276, 277
seal-amulets, 149, 158–159 “smiting god,” 211
Sea Peoples Social Shaping of Technology (Mackenzie and
battles and invasions by, 106–107, 108, Wajcman), 175
130, 283 solar theology, Egyptian, 236–237
as mercenaries, 102 sole god as creator, 71–72
as pirates, 106 Solomon, King, 230
religious beliefs and practices, 214 southern Arabians, 28
shipping threatened by, 32 Spain, 152
sea trade, 120 sphinx (motif), 138, 160
security concerns, 2 spoked wheels, 175
Sekhmet (goddess), 281, 281, 282 state formation, 20
self, view of, 62, 71 stelae
Semerkhet, 120 composition of, 62
Seneb-Kay, King, 272 marriages commemorated in, 81
Senwosret I, 124 non-Egyptian origin, clues from, 76
Senwosret II, 125, 126 royal, 82
Senwosret III, 26, 27, 125–126 writing on, 185
346
346 { Main Index
“stepping on the nine bows” (icon), 68 Tell Seraʾ, 56

stone structures, reinforcement of, 246, Tempest Stela, 250, 253
246–247, 249 Temple of the Obelisks, plan of, 138–139
storage jars, 64 tension, diplomacy in times of, 79, 83
storm god, 196–197 terra cognitae, 8–9, 11–18
Story of Apophis and Seqenenre, The, 98 terrae incognitae, 5, 6–8
Story of Sinuhe, 80 Teshub (god), 214
Strabo, 244 textual sources, 62–63
striding/smiting pose (motif), 138 Theban tombs, 73–74
sub-Saharan Africa, 36, 39, 57 Thebes
Suez, Gulf of, 23, 24, 242 earthquake damage in, 243, 244
Suez, southern Isthmus of, 43 landslides in, 251
Sumerian clay tablet, 184 military technologies in, 97–98
Sumerian writing system, 185 as state, 110
Suppiluliuma, King, 283 Thera, Greek island of, 253
Syria Thutmose I, 29, 127, 177
animals from, 121 Thutmose III
coast of, 108 Annals, 177
Dynastic seals, 187 army under, 102
Egyptianization of, –14 chickens presented to, 15
gods, 147 conquests by, 128–129
merchant ships, 31 foreign wives of, 76, 90, 176
people from, depiction of, 73 knowledge acquired by, 9
seals from, 237 Levant conquered by, 197
Syro-Canaanite city-states, 32 Mediterranean region military exploits by, 30
Syro-Canaanite coast, 31 Megiddo campaign, 48, 103–104, 105
military campaigns (general), 100–101
Taharqa, Kushite king, 152 scarabs during reign of, 150, 150, 151
Taima (Tayma) Oasis, 15, 45 seal-amulets, 149
Tale of Simuhe, The, 7, 97 stelae, 82
Tale of The Doomed Prince, 199, 204 throne name, continued occurrence of, 164
Tale of the Eloquent Peasant, 41, 49, 116 Thutmose IV, 175
Tale of Two Brothers, 199, 210 Tigris-Euphrates region, 6–7
Tanutamun, king, 143 timber, 22, 120
Tao II Seqenenre, 272 Tiye (queen), 83
Tausret, Queen, 234 Tombos, 71, 141, 141, 145
Taweret (goddess), 221, 222, 234–235, 235 tombs
Teaching to Merikare, The, 96 floods invading, 250
technology pottery found in, 64, 65, 120
developments in, 178–180 robbery of, 131
influx of, 174–178 royal, 250
preliterate spread of, 171 topographical lists, 15, 16
transfer, 167–168, 170–173 topos (concept), 67
tectonic plates, 241–242 Török, László, 142
Teissier, B., 211 trade
Tell el-Dabʾa (ancient Avaris) in Early Dynastic Period, 117–120
Asiatic population at, 281 interactions, overview of, 115–117
epidemic affecting, 275, 283 international, 2, 33
habituation history of, 65 international, diversity of, 129–130
harbor at, 29 in Middle Kingdom, 124–126
human remains at, 68 network, reach of, 115
palace built at, 148 in New Kingdom, 127–131
as trade seaport, 126 in Old Kingdom, 120–124
Tell es-Saʾidiyeh, 56 in scarabs, 153–154
Tell Karnak, 264 in Second Intermediate Period, 126–127
Tell Mardikh/Ebla (western Syria), 153 traders, small, 116–117
347
Main Index } 347
trading settlements, 33 war materiel, 110

translators, 85 was-scepter, 211
travel waṣf (Arabic term), 202
land and water, 36, 51 watercraft, 23
by mercenaries, 179 Ways of Horus
overland, 35, 48–51, 52–53, 55–57 areas served by, 129
periods and permits, 51 fortification of, 56
travelers, safeguarding, 49, 56 in Near East, 45
treaties, 12, 87–88, 130 term, 43–44
treatments of foreign origin, 271–272 trade along, 119–120, 122, 123, 130
tribute, gift versus, 89, 90 Webb, Walter Prescott, 14
Truth and Falsehood, 198 well of Sety-Merenptaḥ, 52–53
tsunamis, 243, 244, 246 Wenamun, 33, 55, 72
turquoise, 23, 190 Weni, 94–95, 123
Tushratta, ruler of Mitanni, 172, 229–230, 272 wesekh (type of broad collar), 138
two mountains, sign of, 232 Western Desert, 36, 39–41
typhoid, 280 western philosophy, 61
typhus, 280 White Nile, 257
Wild Nile, 258
Ugaritic alphabet, 192–193 winged Egyptian goddesses, 225, 225
Ugaritic literature, 195, 196, 203 winged sun disk (Egyptian motif), 221
Uluburun shipwreck, 30–31, 129–130 wisdom literature, 199–200
Umm Mawagir, settlement at, 56 women, diplomatic exchange of, 90–92
urukmannu (Hurrian term), 172 World Systems Theory, 81–82
Ušḫara (Levantine god), 198 Wright, John K., 8–9
writing. See also cuneiform
Valley of the Kings, 5 examples of, 191
volcanic eruptions, 253–254 hieroglyphics, 170, 185, 186–193, 188, 195,
230–231
Wadi el-Jarf harbor, 11, 24, 24, 122 invention of, 183–184
Wadi el-Muluk (Valley of the Kings), 250 as technology transfer catalyst, 170–173
Wadi el-Natrun, 56
wadi flash floods, 241, 250–251 Yahu (god), 217
wadi habitat, 262 Yahwism, 210
Wadi Hammamat, 54 Yamm (god), 196
Wadi Maghara (Sinai), 120 Yehawmilk (god), 147, 213
Wadi Tumilat, 43, 48
Wajcman, Judy, 175 Zakros, seal impression from, 233
warfare, 2, 94, 100, 109, 180 Zawiyet Umm el-Rakkamm, fortress at, 31–32
348

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i

Pharaoh’s Land and Beyond

Pharaoh’s Land and Beyond

Edited by Pearce Paul Creasman

Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press

© Oxford University Press 2017

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in

You must not circulate this work in any other form

Library of Congress Cataloging-​in-​Publication Data

List of Illustrations vii

SECTION I: } Pathways

2. Paths in the Deep: Maritime Connections 19

3. Pathways to Distant Kingdoms: Land Connections 35

SECTION II: } People

4. Children of Other Gods: Social Interactions 61

5. Between Brothers: Diplomatic Interactions 79

6. The Armies of Re 93

SECTION III: } Objects

8. Artisans and Their Products: Interaction in Art and Architecture 133

9. Traded, Copied, and Kept: The Ubiquitous Appeal of Scarabs 149

SECTION IV: } Ideas

10. Technology in Transit: The Borrowing of Ideas in Science and

11. The Flow of Words: Interaction in Writing and Literature during the

12. All Gods Are Our Gods: Religious Interaction

SECTION V: } Events

13. Violence in Earth, Water, and Sky: Geological Hazards 241

14. The Fickle Nile: Effects of Droughts and Floods 257

15. Illness from Afar: Epidemics and Their Aftermath 271

References and Further Reading 287

viii { List of Illustrations

11.6 Left: The development of Hebrew, Greek, and Latin letters from

xii { List of Illustrations

List of Illustrations } xiii

xiv { List of Illustrations

15.4 Statue of the lioness-​headed goddess, Sekhmet, feared as the

1 Maiherpri as depicted in his Book of the Dead. Image courtesy of Udimu,

xvi { List of Plates

7 Different visualizations of the finely engraved base design on a

Noga Ayali-​Darshan is Lecturer in the Hebrew and Semitic Languages

Samuel Mark is Professor of Maritime Studies, Texas A&M University at

PLATE 1 Maiherpri as depicted in his Book of the Dead.

PLATE 9 Knot of Isis.

2 { Pearce Paul Creasman and Richard H. Wilkinson

Introduction: Terrae Incognitae and Terrae Cognitae

Exploration has been defined as a determining part of human identity, an

Terrae Incognitae: The Limits of Modern Knowledge about

Our knowledge of the past is extremely fragmented. Paucity of evidence as an

Finding the Beyond: Exploration } 7

FIGURE 1.2 Lapis lazuli inlay in the form of a falcon, New Kingdom.

Terrae Cognitae: How Would Egypt Acquire Knowledge about

As John K. Wright outlined in 1947 (p. 2), “whether or not a particular area

Finding the Beyond: Exploration } 9

The difference of observed and inferred knowledge is reminiscent of phi-

FIGURE 1.3 The expedition leader, Iny.

Finding the Beyond: Exploration } 11

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

10. Technology in Transit: The Borrowing of Ideas in Science and

11. The Flow of Words: Interaction in Writing and Literature during the

15.4 Statue of the lioness-headed goddess, Sekhmet, feared as the

Noga Ayali-Darshan is Lecturer in the Hebrew and Semitic Languages

leaders (most famously the expeditions of Harkhuf to Irem/Yam), to which

with minimal natural amenities (e.g., springs, oases) to better-appointed trails

Nubia and Sub-Saharan Africa

(e.g., Tell el-Yahudiyeh; Heliopolis [this is debated]); Canaanite migrants are

In order to discuss the ancient Egyptian attitude towards non-local and

The indebtedness of Egyptology to the culture-historical approach to the

interesting absence is to be noticed in direct evidence for non-Egyptian gods in