The Charmingly Cluttered Egyptian Museum in Cairo

The decidedly old-school Museum of Egyptian Antiquities houses impressive collections from Ancient Egypt, including the mummies of numerous pharaohs, Amarna Period relics and the treasures of King Tut’s tomb (for now). 

Be sure to explore the peaceful park in front of the salmon-colored museum, which opened in this spot in 1902

There was simply no way I was going to miss the treasures of Tutankhamun, much less the mummies of the pharaohs. So I knew our trip to Cairo wouldn’t be complete without a visit to the landmark Egyptian Museum.

It was a dry, hot morning when Wally and I left the Kempinski Nile Hotel and walked along the Corniche — the grand boulevard that runs parallel to the Nile River. The thoroughfare was not yet car-choked, and we had to walk past armed military police as we approached the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities, more commonly known as the Egyptian Museum. 

“The Egyptian Museum felt trapped in time, a bit like the decaying mansion of Miss Havisham, the jilted spinster from Charles Dickens’ novel “Great Expectations.””

The colossi of Pharaoh Amenhotep III and Queen Tiye tower above Wally (a queen shown actual size)

The Egyptian Museum’s Rough Start

The museum’s first home was established in 1863 by French Egyptologist Auguste Mariette on the banks of the Nile, in Cairo’s Bulaq district. Over time, its extensive collection continued to grow, but in 1878, one of the worst floods in Egypt’s history completely destroyed much of the building, as well as some of Mariette’s drawings and excavation documents. The artifacts were temporarily relocated to the royal palace of Ismail Pasha at Giza after the catastrophe. 

Construction on a new museum began in 1897 at its present location in Tahrir Square, an address that’s now known as the site of protests during the Egyptian Revolution of 2011, part of the Arab Spring. It officially opened its doors to the public on November 15, 1902. 

A pair of larger-than-life figures personifying the goddesses of Upper and Lower Egypt adorn the museum’s façade on either side of the entry arch

The main façade of the salmon-colored Beaux-Arts style structure features a pair of Art Nouveau female figures personifying the goddesses of Upper and Lower Egypt. The museum’s collection consists of approximately 120,000 objects — the largest assemblage of pharaonic antiquities dating from the Old Kingdom (circa 2613-2181 BCE) to the Greco-Roman Period (332 BCE-395 CE). 

We purchased our tickets, which included general admission and the two rooms of royal mummies for 300 Egyptian pounds (just under 20 bucks when we visited), plus an additional ticket for photography for 50 L.E. (about $3). 

Looking down upon the entrance, with its metal detectors

Exploring the Egyptian Museum

We made our way through the courtyard, which contains a reflecting pool with papyrus, additional stone artifacts and a monument dedicated to Mariette. Passing through the museum’s arched entrance, we paused at a security checkpoint, where we showed our tickets and placed our phones in plastic bins before entering. Make sure to look up at the sculpted keystone of the central arch with its Art Nouveau depiction of the goddess Isis, wearing the headdress of Hathor: a solar disc cradled between the horns of a cow. 

Peek behind a wall partition and you’ll see just how disorganized the Egyptian Museum is

Lose Yourself in the Cluttered Collections

The museum has two floors, each of which is arranged in roughly chronological order. Objects are displayed amongst wooden crates and errant forklifts, giving the space a transitory feel. The sprawling second floor halls are filled row upon row of glass cases haphazardly combined with cabinets of curiosities. The Egyptian Museum felt trapped in time, a bit like the decaying mansion of Miss Havisham, the jilted spinster from Charles Dickens’ novel Great Expectations. 

The section on the Amarna Period, with Akenhaten’s defaced sarcophagus in the foreground

The Good: The Androgynous Amarna Period

One of our favorite parts of the museum was the section on the Amarna Period. At the center of this collection are Akhenaten and his wife Nefertiti. Akhenaten is remembered as the “Heretic King” who abandoned traditional Egyptian polytheism in favor of the monotheistic worship of a single god, the Aten. His reign and art are referred to as Amarna because of the Beni Amran, a Bedouin tribe living in the area when his short-lived capital city was discovered by archaeologists.

The royal family shown worshipping the Aten (aka the sun) and its life-giving rays — check out those thunder thighs!

The Aten was depicted as the disc of the sun, whose rays ended in hands reaching out to touch the royal family. What we like best about the Amarna style is its sculpture, which differs radically from the rest of Ancient Egyptian art, which remained largely static for millennia. Perhaps the androgynous elongation and curved form of the colossal statues of Akhenaten and Nefertiti were meant to illustrate the transformative power of the Aten’s rays?

The unfinished yet still stunning bust of Nefertiti

Don’t miss the unfinished quartzite head of Nefertiti with the sculptor’s ink marks still intact, and take a moment to gaze upon the coffin of Akhenaten, which was defaced after his death. His cartouche (the hieroglyphic symbol with a pharaoh’s name) on the lid of the coffin was obliterated so that his spirit would be unable to return in the afterlife.

Catch the treasures of King Tut before they’re moved to the new Grand Egyptian Museum

King Tut…at Last!

The incredible Tutankhamun galleries are located on the second floor — a collection I have wanted to see ever since I was a little boy. It contains hundreds of funerary objects from Tutankhamun’s tomb, including the black jackal-topped Anubis shrine and gilded canopic shrine surrounded by the divinities of Isis, Nephthys, Neith and Selket.

A shrine to the jackal-headed god of mummification, Anubis, found in King Tut’s treasury

A gilded shrine shows a lesser-known deity, Selket, the goddess of magic, who wore a scorpion atop her head

King Tut’s iconic, dazzling golden death mask, inlaid with colored glass and semi-precious stones, is displayed in a case in a separate room, where photography isn’t permitted. You probably already know what it looks like, anyway.

Sarcophagi line the hall leading to the Mummy Rooms, where you can see the dried-up corpses of legendary kings and queens of Ancient Egypt

Mummies Dearest

The shrunken, desiccated bodies of the royal mummies, the kings and queens who ruled Egypt over 3,500 years ago, are located on the second floor and displayed in dimly lit, climate-controlled rooms, within hermetically sealed nitrogen-filled glass cases.

Despite the entrance ticket referring to “the Mummy Room,” note that there are actually two, on either side of what I’m calling the Mummy Hall — the walls are lined with what I’m assuming are original display cases stacked nearly floor to ceiling with coffins and wooden sarcophagi.

Ancient Egyptians painted coffins with the image of the person inside, so their spirit would know where to return after wandering at night

An attendant will ask for your ticket and will punch a hole in it before you enter. Patrons are not allowed to take photos inside either of these rooms. I would suggest adhering to this policy as you probably don’t want your camera or device confiscated — or worse, be asked to leave. 

Rows of figurines of gods and goddesses sit tucked away in vitrines — some labeled, some not

The Bad: Put a Label on It

The Egyptian Museum’s succession of rooms and dusty display cases preserve a Colonial Era charm, but make it difficult to guess the history and chronology of many unmarked artifacts. Signage is often dated, has indecipherable handwritten captions or is nonexistent. Perhaps with the transfer of Tutankhamun’s treasures to the Grand Egyptian Museum (GEM), the Egyptian Museum can take the opportunity to reorganize and refine its collection — though the GEM project, as of this writing, is significantly behind schedule. 

You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have — the Egyptian Museum. But the somewhat run-down state makes you feel like you’re stepping back in time

I’ve been fascinated by Ancient Egypt since I was a child, and the Egyptian Museum remains a singular experience for me — definitely one highlight among many and a must-visit for those in Cairo. –Duke

 

The Egyptian Museum can be a bit of a mess inside — but that’s part of its charm

The Egyptian Museum
Tahrir Square Rd.
Cairo, Egypt

Atenism: Akhenaten’s Experiment in Monotheism

The world’s first monotheistic religion wasn’t Judaism — it happened in Ancient Egypt during what’s known as the “Amarna heresy.”

Oh my gods! Everyone knows that Ancient Egypt was polytheistic, with a troupe of animal-headed gods that were worshiped for thousands of years. And it’s true. Ancient Egypt was polytheistic — except, of course, for those 20 years or so when it wasn’t.

Many of us thought that the Jews were the first monotheists in history. But sometime early in his reign, from 1353-1336 BCE, the Egyptian Pharaoh Akhenaten upended centuries of polytheistic practices and decreed that there was only one god: the sun itself.

“Ancient Egypt was polytheistic — except, of course, for those 20 years or so when it wasn’t.”

Sun worship started with his father, Pharaoh Amenhotep III, who identified himself with a minor god, the Aten, elevating it to the status of a favored god and personal deity.

Amenhotep III might have initiated the intense worship of the Aten that took over his son, the pharaoh who became Akhenaten

Like Father, Like Sun

After Amenhotep III died, his son ascended the throne under the name Amenhotep IV, which meant The God Amun Is Content. But the pharaoh, in the fifth year of his reign, changed his name to Akhenaten, He Who Is Effective on the Aten’s Behalf, when he became convinced that the Aten was the one true god. 

Egyptologists never fail to point out that the Aten is the “solar disc,” though I’m not sure how that differs from just saying that they worshipped the sun.

Gerhard Fecht, who taught Egyptology at the Free University of Berlin and who died in 2006, noted the similarity of the pronunciation in ancient times of Aten (“yati”) and father or forefather (“yata”), which he believed was far from a coincidence. Akhenaten styled himself as the son of the sun and the father of his people, and he believed that he would merge with the sun in death. 

Wally and Duke are particularly partial to the Amarna style of art, as shown in this statue of Akhenaten

The Upsides of the So-Called Amarna Heresy

History hasn’t looked favorably upon Akhenaten, deeming him “the Heretic King” for having the gall to shift Ancient Egypt from polytheism to monotheism for a short period and for moving the capital from Thebes to a new city, Akhentaten, now referred to as Amarna.

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THE RISE AND FALL OF AMARNA, Ancient Egypt’s short-lived new capital

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There’s much to admire about this fascinating ruler, though. For one thing, he created a new style of art — strangely captivating genderbending statuary on the one hand and paintings that convey an intimate realism on the other — when the rest of the three millennia of Ancient Egypt had a remarkably stagnant style. If we can believe the artwork (and we have every reason to be skeptical, since imagery was used for propagandist purposes throughout the ancient kingdom), Akhenaten was utterly devoted to his queen Nefertiti.

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THE AMARNA STYLE OF ART REVEALS THAT AKHENATEN HAD MARFAN SYNDROME…and other conspiracy theories

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We’re also led to believe that Akhenaten doted on the six — count ’em, six — daughters he had with Nefertiti. Most pharaohs would have been disappointed by not having at least one son who could become heir to the throne, but Akhenaten was so enamored of his daughters, he included depictions of them in the artwork he commissioned — an uncommon practice for the time. 

There’s evidence that The Hymn to the Aten influenced one of the Psalms in the Bible

The Great Hymn to the Aten

This controversial pharaoh was a man who loved nature, waxing poetic in the Great Hymn to the Aten, which it’s believed he wrote himself. This poem begins:

For you are risen from the eastern horizon and have filled every land with your beauty;
For you are fair, great, dazzling and high over every land,
And your rays enclose the lands to the limit of all you have made;
For you are Re, having reached their limit and subdued them for your beloved son;
For although you are far away, your rays are upon the earth and you are perceived.

When your movements vanish and you set in the western horizon, 
The land is in darkness, in the manner of death. 
People, they lie in bedchambers, heads covered up, and one eye does not see its fellow.
All their property might be robbed, although it is under their heads, and they do not realize it.
Every lion is out of its den, all creeping things bite. 
Darkness gathers, the land is silent. The one who made them is set in his horizon.

Scholars delight in pointing out how similar the Bible’s Psalm 104 is to the second stanza. It’s not too far-fetched to accuse the Psalm author, who wrote hundreds of years after the Aten hymn, of plagiarism.

Akhenaten and Nefertiti, with three of their daughters, basking in the holy rays of the sun, known as the Aten in Ancient Egypt

Who’s Worshipping Whom?

In his book Akhenaten: Egypt’s False Prophet, Nicholas Reeves argues that Akhenaten worshipped the sun, while the populace of Egypt worshiped Akhenaten. He sees the move to monotheism as a political ploy to strengthen the pharaoh’s power. This point is strengthened by the carvings found in the few tombs used outside of Akhentaten: Instead of gods and goddesses, they feature the royal family prominently.

Atenism created a new trinity. Instead of Amun, the father who jerked off to create the twin siblings, his son Shu and daughter Tefnut, you had the Aten, Akhenaten and Nefertiti. In fact, their six daughters rounded out the royal family, providing a new version of the Ennead, the nine gods of creation.

Aten’s temples were open to the air, a striking contrast to previous Egyptian places of worship, notably the dark and mysterious confines of the temples to Amun, known as the Hidden One. Other temples held a small chamber at the back, the sanctuary, or holy of holies, which housed the cult image of the deity. But with the Aten there was no need for a statue — the god could be seen blazing up in the sky, its warmth felt upon the skin during daylight.

A relief from the Karnak Temple shows Akhenaten worshipping the sun. The new religion was probably appealing at first, with its focus on life and beauty instead of death

Eat, Drink and Be Merry

Atenism’s popularity was short-lived, perhaps even beginning to wane while Akhenaten was still alive. But its initial appeal is easy to imagine. 

For centuries, Ancient Egyptians were obsessed with death; their great monuments, elaborate spells and mummification rituals were meant to assure a pleasant afterlife. But Atenism focused instead on the here and now, on life on this Earth. 

In the past, Egyptian tombs were located on the West Bank of the Nile, most notably the Valley of the Kings. But Akhenaten broke with tradition, designating the eastern hills as the site of the royal tombs and lesser cemeteries. No longer would death be associated with the west and the god Osiris, evoking the sunset and a bleak finality. Instead, death was now connected to the sun that rose from the eastern cliffside, offering light and hope each day.

The Militaristic Move to Monotheism

Most likely in the 10th year of his reign, Pharaoh Akhenaten ceased to tolerate any mention of other gods aside from the Aten, and launched an all-out war against the old deities, Amun and his consort Mut in particular. 

“An order went out from the palace to smash up the divine statues and hack out the names and images of these gods wherever they occurred — on temple walls, on obelisks, on shrines, on the accessible portions of tombs,” Reeves writes. 

The priesthood of the chief god, Amun, in particular, didn’t fare well under Akhenaten’s decree to worship only one deity: the Aten

The persecution spread to the common people as well. Eye makeup containers and commemorative scarabs from this time have been found with the hieroglyphs for other gods gouged or scratched out. 

We don’t just have to take Reeves’ word for how bad things got. Here’s what Manetho, a priest and historian from the Ptolemaic Kingdom in the early third century BCE, wrote about Akhenaten’s monomania:

…not only did they [pharaoh’s men] set towns and villages on fire, pillaging the temples and mutilating images of the gods without restraint, but they also made a practice of using the sanctuaries as kitchens to roast the sacred animals which the people worshipped; and they would compel the priests and prophets to sacrifice and butcher the beasts, afterwards casting the men forth naked.

Upon Akhenaten’s death, his son and successor, King Tut, returned Egypt to polytheism

King Tut Restores the Old Gods

After Akhenaten’s death, his son Tutankhamun’s reign didn’t last long — but did effect major change. Tut brought Ancient Egypt back to polytheism, after his father’s failed experiment. His Restoration Stela paints a bleak picture of how badly things had gotten in such a short time: 

…the temples and the cities of the gods and goddesses, starting from Elephantine as far as the Delta marshes … were fallen into decay and their shrines were fallen into ruin, having become mere mounds overgrown with grass. Their sanctuaries were like something which had not yet come into being and their buildings were a footpath [i.e., public] — for the land was in rack and ruin. The gods were ignoring this land. … if one prayed to a god, to ask something from him, he did not come at all; and if one beseeched any goddess in the same way, she did not come at all.

Akhenaten undeniably wreaked havoc upon the social order. His persecution of the gods that had been worshipped for millennia must have greatly unnerved the populace. He created countless enemies by stripping the priests of Amun of their power and stealing their great wealth to build his new capital city. He didn’t concern himself with the military or economics. For all his focus on hope, he left Ancient Egypt in worse shape than when he took the throne. 

But his revolutionary religious vision, even if it was self-centered, very well could have planted the seeds of the monotheistic religions that dominate the world today. –Wally

Controversial Theories About Akhenaten, Ancient Egypt’s “Heretic King”

The monotheistic pharaoh has spawned numerous crackpot theories, including his having Marfan syndrome and Nefertiti becoming king. 

Pharaoh Akhenaten: the face that launched a thousand conspiracy theories

Everything we think we know about Ancient Egypt can be completely upended with a new discovery of something as seemingly innocuous as a single stone carving. That being said, this article focuses on the research and theories of Nicholas Reeves, in his book, Akhenaten: Egypt’s False Prophet, republished in 2019.

Reeves poses some controversial speculations about the brief but mysterious Amarna Period, jumping to sensationalist conclusions with only the scantest of evidence. I want to believe him, though, especially since he served as the director of the Amarna Royal Tombs Project from 1998 to 2002.

Does the Amarna style of art reveal a hereditary disease?

It Runs in the Family? The Marfan Syndrome Theory

Egyptian art remained remarkably static for millennia. You can picture it in your head: The side-profile carvings and paintings with their legs bent and posed one in front of the other, inspiring the Bangles’ song “Walk Like an Egyptian.” But, much like the move from polytheism to monotheism, the Amarna Period also resulted in an intriguing new art aesthetic.

The unusual Amarna style, especially the statuary, has been a major reason some Egyptologists entertain the theory put forth by Alwyn L. Burridge that Akhenaten suffered from Marfan syndrome. The illness’ symptoms do include features found on the depictions of the pharaoh and his family: slender bones, a long face, an elongated skull, spidery fingers and a wide pelvis, among others.

This depiction of Akhenaten most likely was carved early in his reign and probably reveals what he actually looked like.

If this is indeed the case, the repercussions would have been severe: Akhenaten and his offspring would have been susceptible to sudden death due to a weakened cardiovascular system and would have likely gone blind in adulthood.

It would explain a lot, argues Reeves. A report that Akhenaten wanted “to see the gods” could have meant that he could only dimly discern the rays of the sun. He was skilled in music (“traditionally a vocation for the blind,” according to Reeves). Amarna art emphasizes the sense of touch and often depicted the pharaoh with a crutch or walking stick. And at least one of the fetuses mummified in the tomb of his probable son Tutankhamun, revealed skeletal deformities.

The desecrated sarcophagus in Tomb 55 in the Valley of the Kings

The Mummy in Tomb 55

In 1907, the archeologist Theodore M. Davis uncovered what he referred to as the Tomb of Queen Tiye, or Tomb 55. He found evidence that the tomb had been discovered before, a few millennia ago: 200 years after the remains were initially interred, Ancient Egyptian workers stumbled upon the sepulcher while digging away to build the tomb of Ramesses IX. Queen Tiye, the Great Royal Wife of Amenhotep III, was moved out of the tomb, perhaps to separate her from her “heretic” son, Akhenaten.

The mummy cache found in KV55

Queen Tiye, the mother of Akhenaten

Reeves thinks there’s a good chance the remaining coffin and mummy in Tomb 55 is that of Pharaoh Akhenaten, who ruled from 1353-1336 BCE, especially given the violence of its desecration: “The names were systematically cut out, and the identifying face torn away to destroy the eyes, nose and mouth and effectively deny the king’s spirit sight, air and sustenance; for good measure a stone was hurled at the coffin’s head just before the party left,” Reeves explains. 

Kiya, who shared wifely duties with Nefertiti, was a scapegoat for Akhenaten’s questionable decisions

The Other Wife: The Mysterious and Maligned Kiya

While Nefertiti was the pharaoh’s chief wife, Akhenaten had a secondary spouse, Kiya, whom he also greatly loved, if we can infer that from the fact that she had a lavish estate of her own at Amarna. While Nefertiti gave birth to one daughter after another, Kiya is believed to have borne Akhenaten a son: the famous Boy King, Tutankhamun. 

Reeves posits that Kiya might well have been a princess of the Mitanni people. Her name essentially meant Monkey, Reeves informs us. But behind her playful façade, he says that she was “cruel and self-seeking” and “may even have been regarded, by posterity, as the evil genius behind many of Akhenaten’s excesses.”

A canopic jar with Kiya’s head upon it — other artifacts depicting her were viciously vandalized.

Her inscriptions have been scratched out, and her statues have had their eyes gouged out. References to Kiya were superimposed with figures and texts of Akhenaten’s daughters, and her coffin and canopic jars were repurposed for the pharaoh’s reburial. 

Did Princess Meritaten simultaneously give birth to her daughter and granddaughter?!

Who Says Incest Is Best?

As I’ve mentioned, Reeves loves a good conspiracy theory, and another one rears its head when discussing the historical record of Akhenaten’s progeny. Two additional daughters get mentioned: Meritaten-tasherit and Ankhesenpaaten-tasherit. The -tasherit ending equates to “Jr.,” and the first part of the names are the same as two of the pharaoh’s daughters by Nefertiti. 

Was Akhenaten a bit too fond of his daughters by Nefertiti?

“The implications of this are serious, however,” Reeves writes, “since the father of these children can have been none other than Akhenaten himself.”

Case closed?

Is this a carving of Akhenaten’s gay lover — or a woman who became his co-pharaoh?

Smenkhkare: The Unknown Pharaoh — and Akhenaten’s Gay Lover?

Confusing matters even more, a new pharaoh emerges on the scene while Akhenaten still sat upon the throne. Who was this co-regent? 

A small stele, or stone monument, from this time, made for a military officer named Pase, depicts two kings sitting side by side. One has his arm around his co-pharaoh, who is turning to affectionately touch the other’s chin. Because they’re both styled as kings, Egyptologists in the 1920s and beyond were convinced that this single stone revealed that Akhenaten was gay — never mind all the children he had. 

More recent discoveries have revealed that there’s a likely suspect right under our noses: Pharaoh Smenkhkare was probably none other than his famous wife, Nefertiti. –Wally

The Rise and Fall of Ancient Egypt’s Amarna

Akhenaten moved the capital from Thebes to an undeveloped stretch of land in the middle of the country. It didn’t last long.

Unlike the other monuments of Ancient Egypt that are well preserved, little remains of the short-lived capital of Amarna

Pharaoh Akhenaten, now disparaged as a heretic, made some bold decisions that completely uprooted thousands of years of Ancient Egyptian tradition, including the move to the worship of a single god. This brief era, lasting less than two decades, is known as the Amarna Period and took place in the 1300s BCE. Not surprisingly, all that remains of Akhenaten’s legacy are fragments here and there, some of which had been buried for thousands of years in the sand, some of which were torn apart and repurposed in construction projects elsewhere in the country — and some of which surely have yet to be discovered.

A map of Amarna, with a large temple to the Aten at the top

The Move to Amarna: The New Capital of Akhenaten

At this time, the cult of the chief deity, Amun, held great power, particularly in Thebes, modern-day Luxor, which had become the religious and political center of Egypt. Perhaps as an attempt to reduce the power of the Amun priesthood, Akhenaten (the name he adopted, as he was previously known as Amenhotep IV) decided to decree that all worship be shifted away from Amun and the rest of the pantheon to a minor sun god, the Aten. On top of that, he moved the capital to an unoccupied stretch of desert along the Nile, bordered to the east by cliff walls that would house the royal tombs. He named the new city Akhentaten (Horizon of the Aten), confusingly similar to his new name. The city is now referred to as Amarna. The site was located on a barren stretch of the desert that lay between Lower Egypt’s capital, Memphis (200 miles to the north), and Upper Egypt’s capital, Thebes (250 miles to the south), making it a good spot to administer both lands.

Why did Akhenaten make this drastic move? Despite the fact that many Egyptologists delight in thinking it was the doing of a religious maniac who decreed that the old gods were false and that only one deity, the sun, deservered reverence, it was “dictated less by theological insanity than by court intrigue and politics,” writes Nicholas Reeves in his book Akhenaten: Egypt’s False Prophet, republished in 2019.

When you declare that all of the old gods are forbidden but one, as Pharaoh Akhenaten did, you’re going to piss off a lot of people — especially the wealthy and powerful priesthood of Amun, the former chief deity

An Assassination Attempt?

Reeves, always one to lend credence to a conspiracy theory, hints that a brush with death could have led to the move. “If Akhenaten had narrowly escaped assassination — and his subsequent persecution of the Theban god does indeed suggest a grudge of considerable magnitude — then he was now moving cleverly and decisively to outflank the opposition.”

While the Amun priesthood certainly had their gripes with a sudden loss of power and wealth, Reeves suggests that the population, the younger ones in particular, viewed the move to a new capital as an exciting adventure, “a contrast to the staid and perhaps stale atmosphere of conservative Thebes,” he writes. “For the new generation, pharaoh was the hero of the hour, the man who had re-established true order on the Egyptian world. There was energy in the air; the people believed.”

All that remains of the once-impressive north palace of Amarna

Akhentaten: Nearly a Decade in the Making

It was nine years before Akhentaten celebrated its official inauguration — “and to judge from the number of wine-jar dockets of this date recovered from the site, it must have been quite a party,” Reeves writes.

Although Akhenaten wasn’t known for his economic aptitude, he started out with overflowing coffers. Much of the wealth of his new capital came from the pilfered stockpiles of the old gods, Amun in particular.

Akhenaten and his family can be seen worshipping the Aten (aka the sun) in a tomb carved into the cliffs outside of Amarna in this photo from 1903

Amarna art focused on nature, reflecting the lush oasis Akhenaten created

Today Amarna is a desert wasteland, so it’s difficult to imagine that it once was a lush, green oasis, filled with trees and bushes, as depicted in the reliefs of the time. One of the highlights of the city were its gorgeously painted pavements showing scenes of nature. They were uncovered by the archeologist Flinders Petrie (amusingly described by Reeves as “legendary but dour”) in 1891. Petrie took great pains to preserve these works of art — but a local farmer destroyed most of them in a fit.

Even Hitler fell under the spell of the beautiful Nefertiti, as depicted in her famous bust

Hitler and the Famous Bust of Nefertiti

The palace and major temple were located in the north, so it’s interesting that many of the higher-end villas, like that of the vizier (a role we might now call prime minister), were built in the south — as far as possible from the pharaoh to still be within the boundaries of Akhentaten.

It was in one of these villas, owned by the artist Thutmose, whose house doubled as his studio, that the famed one-eyed bust of Nefertiti was found. If you want to see it in real life, you’ll have to visit the Berlin Museum. There was talk that the sculpture would be returned to Egypt during World War II, but Hitler liked Nefertiti’s “Aryan” appearance, declaring, “What the German people have, they keep!”

If you want to see the bust of Nefertiti, you’ll have to go to Berlin, as these visitors from 1963 did

A political cartoon in an Egyptian newsweekly from 1940: The woman, who represents Europe, is shouting, “Oh, no! Hitler, is this the new order you preached about?!”

This statue of Nefertiti was a particular favorite of Adolf Hitler’s, and for four years had been kept inside a fortified anti-aircraft gun tower next to the Berlin Zoo. 

Napoleon During His Campaign in Egypt by Jean-Léon Gérôme, 1863

Napoleon and Amarna

Amarna remained undiscovered for so long in great part because the local population, “whose habit of shooting first and greeting later deterred the curious from taking an interest in the area,” according to Reeves.

The first Westerners to lay eyes on Amarna were members of Napoleon Bonaparte’s expedition of 1789-1799. The French had come in search of a new passage to India. On all French ventures at the time, scholars were brought along to study and record the culture and history of the lands they passed through, and this was no exception. In fact, Napoleon had 139 of these “savants” in his party.

Very little remains of Amarna today — most buildings were used in other construction projects or simply abandoned

All’s Well That Ends Poorly

The new capital was, ultimately, a failed experiment. It only lasted 17 years. There’s no record of how or when Akhenaten died, but Reeves, of course, wouldn’t be surprised if he was the victim of foul play.

Whatever the cause, the Egyptian people weren’t too bummed at the city’s (or pharaoh’s) demise. As Reeves writes:

For ordinary folk, there is little doubt that Akhenaten’s actions as king over time inflicted the greatest misery: the people were confused by the man’s religious vision, frightened by the ruthless manner in which it was imposed, and quite likely appalled by his personal behaviour. Denied the celebration of the traditional religious festivals which gave form to their year, and brought to the very verge of bankruptcy by their king’s over-ambitious schemes and administrative incompetence, disillusionment was clearly widespread.

Akhenaten’s successor, none other than Tutankhamun, moved the capital back to Thebes, and reverted to polytheism — changing the end of his name from -aten to -amun to signify an allegiance with the previous chief deity, Amun. 

History hasn’t looked favorably upon Akhenaten, a pharaoh whose drastic actions and lack of acumen in ruling nearly ran the legendary empire into the ground. –Wally