Torok - Herodotus in Nubia-2014
Torok - Herodotus in Nubia-2014
Torok - Herodotus in Nubia-2014
in Nubia
LÁSZLÓ TÖRÖK
Herodotus in Nubia
Mnemosyne
supplements
Edited by
volume 368
László Török
leiden | boston
Cover illustration: Portrait of Herodotus. Rome, Palazzo Massimo no. 124478. Marble, Roman copy of a
Greek original of the early 4th century bc. Photo © Museo Nazionale Romano.
DT159.6.N83T57 2014
939'.78–dc23
2014008121
This publication has been typeset in the multilingual “Brill” typeface. With over 5,100 characters covering
Latin, ipa, Greek, and Cyrillic, this typeface is especially suitable for use in the humanities. For more
information, please see www.brill.com/brill-typeface.
issn 0169-8958
isbn 978-90-04-26913-2 (hardback)
isbn 978-90-04-27388-7 (e-book)
∵
Contents
Bibliography 137
General Index 153
Index Locorum 160
Map of Egypt and Nubia
Political and Geographical Terms
The political term Kush refers to the native kingdom emerging after the end of
the Egyptian New Kingdom occupation (c. 1069 bc) and existing in the Middle
Nile Region (between the First Cataract and the Khartoum area) as a political
unit until the ad fourth century.1 Between the end of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty
(the kings of which ruled over a double kingdom extending over Kush and
Egypt) and the third century bc, the Kingdom of Kush may also be called
Kingdom of Napata (after one of its centres); between the third century bc and
the ad fourth century it may be referred to as Kingdom of Meroe (after another
one of its centres).
In Greek texts in general and in Herodotus’ Histories in particular2 the King-
dom of Kush is called Αἰθιοπία, Aithiopia. In order to avoid confusion with
modern Abyssinia, the form Aithiopia is to be preferred to the generally used
writing Ethiopia.3 In Herodotus’ work Aithiopia is the name not only of the
“really existing” land south of Egypt’s southern border, but also that of the fab-
ulous land of the long-lived Aithiopians (Αἰθίοπες μακρόβιοι4). In the Histories
mention is also made of dark-skinned Eastern or Asiatic Aithiopians (3.94, 7.70)
living somewhere in Makran or Beluchistan.5 They do not belong to the topic
of the present study.
Geographically, and to an extent also politically, the term Aithiopia is inter-
changeable with the term Nubia.6 In a strict sense, Nubia7 designates Lower
Nubia between the First and Second Cataracts and Upper Nubia between the
Second and Fifth Cataracts. The term ancient Nubia is used as a general refer-
ence to the ancient polities and cultures in the Middle Nile Region.
The territory of ancient Nubia extends over the territory of two modern polit-
ical units, namely, Egypt (Lower Nubia from the First Cataract to Maharraqa, a
place now under the waters of Lake Nasser) and the Sudan (south of Mahar-
raqa). Discussing the Herodotean text, I shall use the term Aithiopia. Referring
to the actual land and polities behind Herodotus’ Aithiopia I shall use both the
terms Nubia and Kush.
Abbreviations
The little attention students of the work of the Father of History3 generally
pay to the Aithiopian passages is proportionate to the small volume—hardly
more than two thousand words—that these occupy in the Histories.4 Their
cavalier treatment is also influenced by the traditional belief that they reflect
“the tendency of Greek writers to treat Nubia as essentially an appendage of
Egypt, all the more so since most Greek accounts of Nubia took the form of
appendices to digressions on Egypt”.5
Be they conservative Quellenforscher or modern narratologists,6 students of
Herodotus do not feel obliged to inquire into the history and culture of ancient
Nubia because students of ancient Egypt encourage them to maintain that
modern Egyptology’s view of the Middle Nile Region does not greatly differ
from that of the ancient Greek writers. Alan Lloyd’s comment on Histories
2.30, a frequently quoted passage conveying Herodotus’ view that Aithiopian
culture had Egyptian origins (see here Chapter 2, Text 6; Chapter 4.7), presents
a pertinent summary of the twentieth-century Egyptological consensus:7
Writing of History. Madison 1978 41–62; id.: Topics of Discourse: Essays in Cultural Criticism.
Baltimore 1978; id.: The Content of Form: Narrative Discourse and Historical Representation.
Baltimore 1987.
7 For the consensus, see recently The Oxford History of Egypt: J. Taylor: The Third Interme-
diate Period (1069–664 BC). in: Shaw (ed.) 2000 330–368 356.
8 Lloyd 1976 132. See also Asheri 2007c 416, 420.—Lloyd’s extension of the Meroitic period
over the fifth century bc does not correspond with the Nubiological terminology, see
Political and Geographical Terms.
9 For the Campaign see, with further literature, W.Y. Adams: The Nubian Archaeologi-
cal Campaigns of 1959–1969: Myths and Realities, Success and Failures. in: Bonnet (ed.)
1992 3–27; A.J. Mills: The Archaeological Survey from Gemai to Dal. ibid. 29–31; T. Säve-
Söderbergh: The International Nubia Campaign: Two Perspectives. ibid. 33–42; F. Wen-
dorf: The Campaign for Nubian Prehistory. ibid. 43–54.
10 The history and archaeology of Nubia occurs from the 1960s in university curriculums as
part of the study of Egyptology, African studies, or social anthropology at several Euro-
pean and American universities. Encouraged by the success of international colloquiums
organised in connection with the UNESCO Salvage Campaign (see Actes du Symposium
International sur la Nubie. Le Caire 1969; E. Dinkler [ed.]: Kunst und Geschichte Nubiens
in christlicher Zeit. Recklinghausen 1970; L. Habachi [ed.]: Actes du IIe Symposium Inter-
national sur la Nubie. Le Caire 1981), an International Society for Nubian Studies was
herodotus’ nubia in modern scholarship 3
created in 1972. For the conferences organised by the Society see K. Michalowski (ed.):
Nubia Récentes recherches. Varsovie 1975; J. Leclant–J. Vercoutter: Études Nubiennes. Col-
loque de Chantilly 2–6 Juillet 1975 (BdÉ 77). Le Caire 1978; J.M. Plumley (ed.): Nubian Studies.
Warminster 1982; M. Krause (ed.): Nubische Studien. Mainz 1986; T. Hägg (ed.): Nubian Cul-
ture Past and Present (Kungl. Vitterhets Historie och Antikvitets Akademiens Konferenser 17).
Stockholm 1987; Bonnet (ed.) 1992; Bonnet (ed.) 1994; Actes de la VIIIe Conférence Interna-
tionale des Études Nubiennes I. Communications principales. CRIPEL 17 (1995); Kendall (ed.)
2004; Caneva–Roccati (eds) 2006; Godlewski–Łajtar (eds) 2008; K. Godlewski–A. Łajtar
(eds): Between the Cataracts. Proceedings of the 11th Conference for Nubian Studies Warsaw
University, 27 August–2 September 2006. Part Two Session Papers. Warsaw 2010.—It was the
studies devoted to the monuments of the Meroitic period which were first recognized as
a special branch of studies. Conferences devoted to Meroitic studies are, similarly to the
conferences organised by the International Society for Nubian Studies, regularly held in
intervals of four years ever since the first one that was organised in 1971 by F. Hintze in
Berlin. For the International Conferences for Meroitic Studies, see Meroitica 1 (1973); 6
(1982); 7 (1984); 10 (1989); Wenig (ed.) 1999; D.A. Welsby (ed.): Recent Research in Kushite
History and Archaeology. Proceedings of the 8th International Conference for Meroitic Stud-
ies. London 1999.—Specialised periodicals and series devoted to Nubian archaeology and
history besides Sudan Notes and Records and Kush. Journal of the Sudan Antiquities Service
(Khartoum, 1953–) are the following: Meroitic Newsletter. Bulletin d’Informations Méroï-
tiques (Paris, 1968–); Meroitica. Schriften zur altsudanesischen Geschichte und Archäologie
(Berlin, 1973–); Nubian Letters (information bulletin with occasional preliminary reports,
The Hague 1983–); Beiträge zur Sudanforschung (Wien, 1986–); Archéologie du Nil Moyen
(Lille, 1986–); Nubica. Internationales Jahrbuch für Äthiopische, Meroitische und Nubische
Studien (1990–, 1 Köln; 2–3 Wiesbaden-Warszawa); Sudan & Nubia. The Sudan Archaeo-
logical Research Society Newsletter (London, 1992–); Mitteilungen der Sudanarchäologis-
chen Gesellschaft zu Berlin e.V. (1994–1999); Der antike Sudan. Mitteilungen der Sudan-
archäologischen Gesellschaft zu Berlin e.V. (1999–).—For the academic access to ancient
Nubia in the last quarter of the twentieth century, see the overviews in Adams 1977
and Török 1997a, and cf. B.G. Trigger: Paradigms in Sudan Archaeology. The International
Journal of African Historical Studies 27 (1994) 323–345; L. Török: Kush: An African State
in the First Millennium BC. PBA 87 (1995) 1–38; Török 2011c. For major exhibitions, see
Wenig 1978; D. Wildung (ed.): Sudan Ancient Kingdoms of the Nile. Paris-New York 1997;
C. Perez Die (ed.): Nubia. Los reinos del Nilo en Sudán. Barcelona 2003; D.A. Welsby–
J.R. Anderson: Sudan Ancient Treasures. An Exhibition of Recent Discoveries from the Sudan
National Museum. London 2004; Baud–Sackho-Auttissier–Labbé-Toutée 2010; K. Kröper–
S. Schoske–D. Wildung (eds): Königsstadt Naga. Naga—Royal City. Grabungen in der Wüste
des Sudan. Excavations in the Desert of the Sudan. München-Berlin 2011.—For an overview
4 chapter 1
Studies I quote a passage from David Asheri’s Commentary on Book III, one of
the most splendid recent works on the Histories:11
Most of the area [of Nubia] was known to the Egyptians, who dominated
it for 1,500 years, colonized it, and introduced their culture there (…)
In ancient Nubia, from the 8th cent. bc, flourished an indigenous king-
dom profoundly Egyptian in culture, with a religious centre in Napata,
beyond the Fourth Cataract; from the 6th cent. the political capital grad-
ually moved to Meroe, near modern Bagrawiya, about 160 km. south of
the Fifth Cataract (…) [The Kingdom of Meroe] was a typically Nilotic
culture, stretching along the two banks of the river as far as the desert
sand-dunes.12
This is very far from the general outline a student of ancient Nubia would fur-
nish today. Impressed by the seemingly thoroughly Egyptianized appearance
of Nubian culture, earlier students of Nubian history described the Egyptian-
Nubian nexus in the terms of conqueror and conquered, initiator and fol-
lower, model and imitation. In reality, however, the viceregal administration13
that was introduced in Nubia after the kings of the early Eighteenth Dynasty
expanded the limit of Egypt as far south as the region of the Fourth Cataract14
of the archaeological work conducted in the Middle Nile Region and a bibliography of
Nubian literature to 1967, see I. Hofmann: Die Kulturen des Niltals von Aswan bis Sennar
vom Mesolithikum bis zum Ende der christlichen Epoche (Monographien zur Völkerkunde
herausgegeben vom Hamburgischen Museum für Völkerkunde IV). Hamburg 1967. For a
comprehensive bibliography of Meroitic studies published before 1984 see Török 1988 291–
338; for further bibliographies, see the volumes of Beiträge zur Sudanforschung; Welsby
1996; Török 1997a; Edwards 2004; Török 2009, 2011a and cf. Fisher et al. (eds) 2012.
11 Cf. Mitchell 2008.
12 Asheri 2007c 416.
13 G.A. Reisner: The Viceroys of Ethiopia. JEA 6 (1920) 28–55, 73–88; L. Habachi: Königssohn
von Kusch. LÄ III (1979) 630–640; A. Gasse–V. Rondot: The Egyptian Conquest and Admin-
istration of Nubia during the New Kingdom: The Testimony of the Sehel Rock-inscriptions.
Sudan & Nubia 7 (2003) 40–46; El-Sayed Mahfouz: Les directeurs des déserts aurifères
d’ Amon. REgypt 56 (2005) 55–78. For further literature, see also Török 2009 171ff.
14 For the New Kingdom conquest of Nubia, see Trigger 1976; Zibelius-Chen 1988; Smith
1995; B.M. Bryan: The Eighteenth Dynasty before the Amarna Period (c. 1550–1352BC). in:
Shaw (ed.) 2000 218–271; Smith 2003; C. Bonnet: Le temple principal de la ville de Kerma et
son quartier religieux. Avec la collaboration de D. Valbelle, contribution de B. Privati. Paris
2004.
herodotus’ nubia in modern scholarship 5
was not a colonial system excluding mutual benefit.15 Nubia was incorporated
into the Egyptian redistributive system in such a way that the conquered native
territorial political structures were integrated into the political and economic
administration of the province.16 The substructure of production and local
redistribution was to a considerable extent based on the social structure of the
indigenous chiefdoms existing in Nubia before the New Kingdom conquest.
Egyptianization remained selective in all segments of Nubian society.17
With the Egyptian withdrawal brought about by the decline of the late
Ramesside state in the first half of the eleventh century bc, the centralized
political and economic structure disappeared in Nubia. The former vicere-
gal domain disintegrated into smaller native polities. These were more or less
identical to the subordinate territorial units of viceregal Nubia, which, in turn,
had been organized on the basis of the pre-conquest native polities. The re-
integration of Nubia into one political entity in the course of the eighth cen-
tury bc18 was determined by the dysfunctions of the fragmented successor
polities and facilitated by the native elite’s experience of imperial administra-
tion. The successor polities inherited elements of a socio-economic structure
that functioned properly only on an imperial scale.
Modern students of the Egyptian-Nubian interface prefer to write about an
interaction between two rivals19 and give a description of acculturation pro-
cesses20 in Nubia as being characterized by an inner-directed use of Egyptian
15 Cf. R.J. Horvath: A Definition of Colonialism. Current Anthropology 1969 1–7; Frandsen
1979; T. Säve-Söderbergh in: Säve-Söderbergh–Troy 1991 10ff.; Smith 1995; B.J. Kemp: Why
Empires Rise. Review Feature, Askut in Nubia. CAJ 7 (1997) 125–131; Smith 2003.
16 For the issue cf. R.G. Morkot: Nubia in the New Kingdom: the Limits of Egyptian Con-
trol. in: W.V. Davies (ed.): Egypt and Africa. Nubia from Prehistory to Islam. London 1991
294–301; id.: The Economy of Nubia in the New Kingdom. in: Actes de la VIIIe Conférence
Internationale des Études Nubiennes I. Communications principales. CRIPEL 17 (1995) 175–
189; Morkot 2000 69 ff.; Török 2009 157–283.
17 Cf. Smith 1995, 2003; Török 2009 263ff.
18 For the different views on the genesis of the Kushite state, see, with the earlier literature,
Kendall 1999; id.: A Response to László Török’s “Long Chronology” of El Kurru. in: Wenig
(ed.) 1999 164–176; R.[G.] Morkot: The Origin of the “Napatan” State. ibid. 139–148; L. Török:
The Origin of the Napatan State: The Long Chronology of the El Kurru Cemetery. A
Contribution to T. Kendall’s Main Paper. ibid. 149–159; Morkot 2000; Morkot 2003; Edwards
2004; Török 2008; Török 2009 285–309; R.G. Morkot: Kings and Kingship in Anient Nubia.
in: Fisher et al. (eds) 2012 118–124.
19 O’Connor 1993.
20 For the interpretation of the archaeological evidence, cf. Török 1997a 108ff.; Kendall 1999;
Edwards 2004; Vincentelli 2006; Lohwasser 2010; Lohwasser 2012.
6 chapter 1
conceptions, forms, means, and modes of expression for the articulation and
maintenance of the native Nubian culture. The attitude of the native Nubian
Kingdom of Kush was the adaptation rather than the adoption of Egyptian cul-
ture.21
Asheri’s definition of Napata as the religious centre and first capital of the
Kingdom of Kush or the notion of a gradual shift of the political capital from
Napata to the city of Meroe goes back to late nineteenth–early twentieth-
century speculation.22 Launching a confused historical discourse, in 1952 G.A.
Wainwright23 dated the emergence of the city of Meroe as capital of Kush
with reference to Herodotus 2.29 and also assumed the historicity of Cambyses’
campaign (cf. 2.29–31, here Chapter 2, Text 6; Chapter 4.7).
Relying on the evidence of the Kushite royal inscriptions dating from the
seventh through fourth centuries bc24 and on modern settlement historical
research,25 more recent studies argue for a structure in which the territorial
units of administration were established around urban settlements functioning
as equal “capitals” of the Kingdom of Kush.26 Each of these “capitals” was cen-
tered on compounds formed by the temple of one of the Nubian Amun gods, a
royal residence, and stores serving redistribution. The principal administrative
centres of this type are attested at Meroe, Napata, Kawa, and Kerma.27 In the
seventh through fourth centuries bc the royal investiture was repeated in the
21 For the issue, see, with earlier literature, Török 2011a, 2011b.—See also the recent studies on
language and literacy: Rilly 2007; C. Rilly: Le méroitique et sa famille linguistique (Collection
Afrique et Language 14). Louvain-Paris 2010; Zibelius-Chen 2011. For a more conservative
discussion of the Egyptian-Nubian interface, see Kendall 2007.
22 Cf. I. Hofmann: Studien zum meroitischen Königtum. Bruxelles 1971 77; Adams 1977 305, 311;
I. Hofmann: Beiträge zur meroitischen Chronologie. St. Augustin bei Bonn 1978 41; F. Hintze:
The Meroitic Period. in: S. Hochfield–E. Riefstahl (eds): Africa in Antiquity. The Arts of
Ancient Nubia and the Sudan I. The Essays. Brooklyn 1978 89–105 94f.; Shinnie 1996 102,
etc.
23 Wainwright 1952.
24 For the inscriptions and their literature, see FHN I, II.
25 Cf. Baud 2008.
26 Cf. Török 1992; 1997a 420 ff.—This political structure is not to be confused with the “Su-
danic model” of the “segmentary state” as argued for by D.N. Edwards: Meroe in the
Savannah—Meroe as a Sudanic Kingdom? in: Wenig (ed.) 1999 312–320; cf. D. O’Connor–
A. Reid: Introduction. in: O’Connor–Reid (eds) 2003 1–21 16. Contra: Török 2008 162f.—For
recent settlement historical considerations, see Baud 2008.
27 For the evidence, see Török 2002 passim. For the Meroitic period, cf. L. Török: Economic
Offices and Officials in Meroitic Nubia. A Study in Territorial Administration of the Late
Meroitic Kingdom (StudAeg 5). Budapest 1979.
herodotus’ nubia in modern scholarship 7
Amun temples of all these centres.28 The multiple coronation of the king seems
to preserve the memory of the unification of the land on the level of the myth of
the state (cf. Chapter 4.9), reflecting at the same time the governmental prac-
tice of an ambulatory kingship.29 Finally the vague notion of a “typically Nilotic
culture” does not describe at all the richness and complexity of Nubian culture
between the eighth century bc and Herodotus’ time. Altogether, what is a “typ-
ically Nilotic culture”? David Asheri’s description of the Kingdom of Meroe as
“stretching along the two banks of the river as far as the desert sand-dunes” is
similarly off the mark.
The last decades witnessed a spectacular renaissance of Herodotean schol-
arship.30 Weaknesses such as the ignorance of the assessment of lands and
peoples discussed or mentioned by Herodotus as paradigms, that is, not for
their own sake, continue nevertheless to represent blind spots in the image of
Herodotus’ world as it comes into sight in scholarly comments on the Histo-
ries. In this study Herodotus’ two Aithiopias are revisited with the intention to
confront them with the “real” world of ancient Nubia as it may be perceived in
the early 2000s. I do not intend, however, to present a source-critical study that
would attempt to exploit the Aithiopian passages in order to construe partisan
arguments for or against Herodotus’ trustworthiness (cf. Chapter 1.2).
28 For divergent interpretations of the evidence, see, e.g., S. Wenig: Kommentar zu Török:
Ambulatory Kingship and Settlement History. A Study on the Contribution of Archaeology
to Meroitic History. in: Bonnet (ed.) 1992 137–140; A. Lohwasser: Die Darstellung der
kuschitischen Krönung. in: D. Kurth (ed.): 3. Ägyptologische Tempeltagung. Systeme und
Programme der ägyptischen Tempeldekoration. Wiesbaden 1995 163–185; Lohwasser 2000;
2001.
29 L. Török: Ambulatory Kingship and Settlement History. A Study on the Contribution of
Archaeology to Meroitic History. in: Bonnet (ed.) 1992 111–126.
30 For the literature, see C. Dewald–J. Marincola: A Selective Introduction to Herodotean
Studies in: D. Boedeker–J. Peradotto (eds): Herodotus and the Invention of History (Arethusa
20). Buffalo 1987 9–40 and see the other studies in the same volume. See also F. Bubel:
Herodot-Bibliographie 1980–88. Hildesheim 1991; Harrison 2000; Thomas 2000; Luraghi
2001a; Bakker–de Jong–van Wees (eds) 2002; Karageorghis–Taifacos (eds) 2004; Dewald–
Marincola 2006; Asheri–Lloyd–Corcella 2007 xvi–xliii; Rollinger et al. (eds) 2011, etc.
31 Lateiner 1989 268.
8 chapter 1
Preceding the first enlargement of the original Aswan Dam,32 in the first
systematic record of the monuments and archaeological sites of Lower Nubia,33
the archaeologist Arthur Weigall added the following remark to his description
of the Eighteenth Dynasty temple at Amada:34
On the roof of the temple there are a few Coptic inscriptions of no interest.
There is here an interesting forgery probably dating from the Middle Ages.
It is a Greek inscription reading “Herodotus of Halicarnassus beheld and
admired” and near it in a later style of writing is “No he did not”.35
It was with reference to Weigall that some years later also Henri Gauthier’s
detailed publication of the reliefs and inscriptions of the temple mentioned
the Herodotus graffito as a “fameuse inscription grecque, datant du moyen âge,
et relative à une prétendue visite à Amada d’ Hérodote d’ Halicarnasse”.36 Nei-
ther Weigall nor Gauthier did provide a facsimile or photograph of the two
inscriptions, however. Their text is known only from Weigall’s English transla-
tion. No doubt, the inscription with Herodotus’ name followed the Ptolemaic-
and Roman-period visitor-inscription type containing the visitor’s name and
the statement εἶδον καὶ ἐθαύμασα, “I beheld and I admired”. Hundreds of inscrip-
tions of this type are known from the syringai,37 i.e., the monumental tombs of
the Valley of the Kings at Thebes West, which belonged to the greatest tourist
attractions of Ptolemaic and Roman Egypt.38 The visit to the royal tombs of
the Valley of the Kings was obligatory for the nineteenth-century tourist as
well.
The dating of the Amada graffiti to the Middle Ages remains of course a
conjecture. I prefer to date a hoax of this type to the nineteenth century,
picturing a party of high-spirited scholars visiting the monuments of Egypt
and Nubia or else some well-educated young gentlemen on their Grand Tour
travelling along the Nile with the respectful expectation that they find remains
of things described by Herodotus, Strabo, Diodorus, Pliny and other ancient
writers,39 but at the same time gaily mocking their guides’ priggish habit of
elevating the value of a site or monument by directly associating it with some
famous personality of antiquity.
Also another intention may be attributed to the hypothetical hoaxer(s).
The southernmost place in Egypt that Herodotus claims to have visited is Ele-
phantine.40 Amada lies further 200km south of Elephantine in a region where
Herodotus certainly did not go. The sarcasm of a faked exchange between the
Father of History recording his visit to Amada and his admiration of its tem-
ple and the anonymous author of the other graffito who sneeringly denies that
he could ever go there implies that the actual writer(s) of the two inscriptions
was (were) well aware of the perennial debate around Herodotus’ trustworthi-
ness. However frivolously, the author(s) of the graffiti addressed the principal
dilemma that dominated the Nachleben of the Histories from antiquity to the
late twentieth century.41
38 Cf. J. Baillet: Insciptions grecques et latines des Tombeaux des Rois ou Syringes I–III. Le Caire
1920–1927; A. Bataille: Les Memnonia: Recherches de papyrologie et d’épigraphie grecque
sur la nécropole de la Thèbes d’Égypte aux époques hellénistiques et romaine. Le Caire
1952. For the visitors of the Theban tombs in the Graeco-Roman period, see recently
A. Łajtar: The Theban Region under the Roman Empire. in: Riggs (ed.) 2012 171–188
183 ff.
39 For the intellectual background of the early travellers, cf. B.J. Peterson: Swedish Travellers
in Egypt during the Period 1700–1850. OAth 7 (1967) 14–16; F.W. Hinkel: Otto Friedrich
von Richters Reise in Unternubien im Jahre 1815. AoF 19 (1992) 230–246; Török 1997a
7 ff.; P. Usick: William John Bankes’ Collection of Drawings and Manuscripts Relating to
Ancient Nubia. London 1998; D. Manley–P. Ree: Henry Salt Artist, Diplomat, Egyptologist.
London 2001; P. Usick: Adventures in Egypt and Nubia. The Travels of William John Bankes
(1788–1855). London 2002; Reid 2002 21 ff.; Török 2011c; H. Goren: Dead Sea Level. Science,
Exploration and Imperial Interests in the Near East. New York 2011.
40 2.29. For the place of Egypt’s southern border in Herodotus’ time, see Török 2009 364ff.
41 Momigliano 1958/1966; J.A.S. Evans: Father of History or Father of Lies: The Reputation of
Herodotus. CJ 64 (1968) 11–17.
10 chapter 1
The debate about the veracity of the Histories started with Thucydides,42
Ctesias,43 Hecataeus of Abdera44 and Manetho45 and was continued by Cic-
ero,46 Diodorus,47 Plutarch,48 Aelius Aristides,49 Aelius Harpocration,50 Liban-
ius51 and many others.52 It was vehemently revived by early nineteenth-century
scholars,53 among them authorities such as (Sir) John Gardner Wilkinson,
the leading British Egyptologist of his generation,54 or the eminent classicist
George Rawlinson. The mention of these two scholars is of course intentional
here. Wilkinson visited Nubia several times. In the event, in 1821–1822 he thor-
oughly studied the temple of Amada.55 In his Manners and Customs of the
Ancient Egyptians he made critical remarks on Herodotus’ credibility.56 It was
in collaboration with Gardner Wilkinson that George Rawlinson published
a commented English translation of the Histories between 1858 and 1861.57
Both of them are feasible candidates for the authorship of the Amada inscrip-
tions.
Before the 1970s, Herodotus’ work was studied mainly as a historical source.
In the late nineteenth century and the larger part of the twentieth, the great
majority of the students of the Histories, partisans as well as deniers of Hero-
dotus’ trustworthiness, approached it with the methods of traditional Quellen-
forschung.58 In the late nineteenth–early twentieth centuries, source-critical
studies received a new impetus from archaeology, the increasingly refined
methods of which enabled the archaeologist to answer historical questions.59
With the spectacular development of Egyptology, the students of Book II, the
Egyptian logos,60 were supplied with a rapidly growing evidence to sustain the
confrontation of Herodotus’ Egypt with the land on the Nile “as it must have
existed in reality”. Besides contributions to mainstream Quellenkritik, however,
from the 1930s there appeared sporadic studies discussing aspects of the wider
intellectual context of the Egyptian and Aithiopian information embedded in
the Histories. I refer here first of all to pioneering works published by Hadas,61
Säve-Söderbergh,62 Lesky,63 and Herminghausen.64
Herodotus’ “dual identity, father of history and father of lies”,65 divided
nineteenth- and twentieth-century writers into two uncompromising camps.
Scepticism ranged from doubts concerning the reality of individual data or
stories in the Histories to a complete denial of the reliability of the Father of
History. At the turn of the nineteenth century, the eminent Egyptologist Fran-
cis Llewellyn Griffith doubted if Herodotus went at all to Egypt.66 Eighty years
later, Kimball Armayor would have similar doubts.67 Detlev Fehling argues even
more radically in his emblematic Die Quellenangaben bei Herodot.68 Maintain-
ing that Herodotus’ source-citations are nothing other than pure inventions,
A man who gives a wildly wrong length of time for the route from Heliopo-
lis to Thebes, who declares that Egypt becomes broader again after four
days’ travel up river from Heliopolis (2.8.3), whose measurement for the
narrowest part of the Nile valley would make it over fifty percent wider
than the actual breadth of long stretches of the valley, who thinks Ele-
phantine is a city and not an island and imagines that the city of Syene71
is further away, and who, on the other hand, does not offer a single correct
detail on any locality whatsoever and says not a word about the mon-
uments of Thebes—this man has never been in Upper Egypt, even if a
conceivable explanation can be found for every statement he makes.72
While we must agree with Fehling that in fact Herodotus did not go to Elephan-
tine, it can hardly be denied that Herodotus (like Hecataeus of Miletus before
him73) went indeed to Egypt74 some time in the later reign of Artaxerxes I
(465–424bc), more precisely after the defeat of the Inaros revolt (c. 463/2–
449bc).75 Yet while Fehling’s criticism of the methods and views of traditional
2002 79.—Herodotus on Inaros: 3.12, 15. Cf. M. Chauveau: Inarôs, prince des rebelles. in:
F. Hoffmann–H.J. Thissen (eds): Res severa verum gaudium. Festschrift für Karl Theodor
Zauzich zum 65. Geburtstag am 8. Juni 2004 (Studia Demotica 6). Leuven 2004 39–46;
Vittmann 2011 400.
76 Cf. Moyer 2002 72ff.
77 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 125.
78 W. Scheidel: Age and Health. in: Riggs (ed.) 2012 305–316 313; cf. id.: Death on the Nile:
Disease and Demography of Roman Egypt. Leiden-Boston-Köln 2001.
79 Cf. Luraghi 2001b.
80 Armayor 1978 71.
81 Lloyd 1975; 1976; 1988a. See also Lloyd 1988b; 1990; 2002; 2004; 2007.
14 chapter 1
82 English edition of commentaries published first in Italian, see D. Asheri: Erodoto. Le Storie.
Libro I. La Lidia e la Persia. Milano 1989; Libro III. La Persia. Milano 1991; A. Corcella:
Libro IV. La Sizilia e la Libia. Milano 1993; G. Nenci: Libro VI. La Battaglione di Maratone.
Milano 1999; A. Massaracchia: Libro VIII. La Battaglia di Salamina. Milano 1977; Libro IX.
La Sconfitta dei Persiani. Milano 1979.
83 Pritchett 1993. See also H. Erbse: Fiktion und Wahrheit im Werke Herodots. in: Nachrichten
der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Göttingen Philosophisch-historische Klasse 1991. Göttin-
gen 1991 131–150; id.: Studien zum Verständnis Herodots. Berlin-New York 1992.
84 Cf. R.V. Munson: Telling Wonders: Ethnographic and Political Discourse in the Work of
Herodotus. Ann Arbor 2001; Dewald 2002; Gray 2002; de Jong 2002; I.J.F. de Jong: Herodotus.
in: R. Nünlist–A.M. Bowie (eds): Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek
Literature I. Leiden-Boston 2004 101–114; Dewald–Marincola 2006; Marincola 2006, etc.
See also Emily Baragwanath’s excellent study of Herodotus’ representation of human
motivation: Baragwanath 2008.
85 Harrison 2000 3, with reference to Immerwahr 1966 2.
86 For the views on the historian, see Harrison 2000 2ff.
87 Cf. Hartog 1988, but see also Moyer 2002.
88 J. Vansina: De la tradition orale. Essai de méthode historique. Tervuren 1961; id.: Oral Tra-
dition as History. Madison 1985. Cf. also M. Schuster: Zur Konstruktion von Geschichte
in Kulturen ohne Schrift. in: J. von Ungern-Sternberg–H. Reinau (eds): Vergangenheit in
mündlicher Überlieferung. Stuttgart 1988 55–71.
89 Dewald–Marincola (eds) 2006 Preface xiii; Dewald–Marincola 2006.
90 Cf. Marincola 2006; Baragwanath 2008 35 ff.
91 Cf. Murray 2001; Fowler 2001; Luraghi 2001b; C. Dewald: Humour and Danger in Herodotus.
in: Dewald–Marincola (eds) 2006 145–164; Fowler 2006; Griffiths 2006; Luraghi 2006.
herodotus’ nubia in modern scholarship 15
the impact of poetry,92 prose,93 and tragedy94 on his work; or his use of written
sources.95
As a tradition, studies on the Histories comment on the Aithiopian passages
from the viewpoint of the Egyptian logos, the study of which is considered,
again as a tradition, to be the special task of Egyptologists. Der Äthiopenlo-
gos bei Herodot, published in 1979 by Inge Hofmann and Anton Vorbichler,96
represents a welcome breach with this practice. Hofmann and Vorbichler inter-
preted Chapters 17–26 of Book III taking into consideration the archaeological
research conducted in Nubia up to the mid-1970s. Response arrived, however,
mainly to their rather eccentric interpretation of the supposed “mythological
genre” of the narrative in 2.17–26.97
In 1981 Stanley Burstein98 confronted more recent archaeological work at
the city of Meroe with the curious “source-critical” identification of “the Table
of the Sun” (3.18, see here Chapter 4.8) suggested before World War I by the orig-
inal excavators of the site99 and uncritically repeated ever since.100 Burstein’s
denial of the historicity of the Table of the Sun found no way into Herodotean
studies. As for Nubian Studies, Herodotus either continued to be quoted with
old-fashioned “source-critical” piety or was passionately refuted as a historical
source. As a rather unfortunate compromise, in studies published in the late
1980s on the textual sources relating to the political history of ancient Nubia101
and the history of the Meroitic period,102 the present writer took a critical view
of both Lloyd’s acceptance of the Aithiopian passages and Hofmann and Vor-
bichler’s hypercritical attitude. As it will be shown in later chapters of this book,
I was decidedly wrong in some of my conclusions. Others sounded somewhat
better:
92 Marincola 2006.
93 Fowler 2006.
94 Griffin 2006.
95 Cf. Fowler 2001; Giangiulio 2001; van Wees 2002 332; Hornblower 2002 374f.; Osborne 2002
510 ff.; Luraghi 2006.
96 Hofmann–Vorbichler 1979.
97 For critical remarks, see Desanges 1992 366.
98 S.M. Burstein: Herodotus and the Emergence of Meroe. in: Burstein 1995 155–164 (origi-
nally published: JSSEA 11 [1981]).
99 J. Garstang–A.H. Sayce–F.Ll. Griffith: Meroe City of the Ethiopians. Oxford 1911 25–27.
100 E.g., A.J. Arkell: A History of the Sudan. From the Earliest Times to 1821. London 1955 (2nd
rev. edn. 1961) 150; Shinnie 1967 15 f.; Lloyd 1976 124; Adams 1977 294.
101 Török 1986 15 ff., 188 ff.
102 Török 1988 125–129.
16 chapter 1
Nubiorum108 was less than slight.109 Similar to the publication in 1997 of the
large-scale excavations conducted before World War I at the city of Meroe,110
the commentaries published in FHN I, too, are ignored not only in Alan Lloyd’s
more recent studies, in which he summarizes earlier research on the Egyptian
logos and the Aithiopian passages,111 but also in David Asheri’s commentaries
on Book III.112 Besides Nubian bibliographies compiled before 1983, Asheri
refers to a random selection of general histories113 and to some papers dis-
cussing detail problems.114 Referring to textual evidence from Kush, Asheri
quotes E.A.W. Budge’s The Egyptian Sudan, Its History and Monuments pub-
lished in 1907. Actually, Budge published English translations of the hiero-
glyphic inscriptions of the kings of Kush known at that time in another book.115
As to his biased general history quoted by Asheri, it became obsolete in 1949 at
the latest116 when M.F.L. Macadam published his magisterial monograph117 on
the hieroglyphic inscriptions discovered in 1929–1931 in the Amun temple at
Kawa.118
Generations of Quellenforscher turned with great confidence to the Histories
as a historical source. They were prepared to identify realistic historical infor-
mation not only in the logoi about the Persian expansion but also in accounts of
peripheral regions and peoples like Aithiopia and the Aithiopians. The recog-
nition of Herodotus’ fine perception of Greek history119 was extended over
narratives such as the passage on the long-lived Aithiopians, their customs and
traditions and the marvels of their land (3.17–26, here Chapter 2, Text 7, cf.
Chapters 4.8–9). The present examination of the “historicity” of the Aithiopian
passages follows the path of traditional Quellenforschung only insofar as I
attempt to apply source criticism against the background of an early twenty-
first-century perception of ancient Nubia. While presenting my source-critical
considerations, however, I shall try not to lose sight of the Histories as a text, the
interpretation of which can only gain by forming a more reliable idea of the
relationship between the Nubian information that Herodotus could actually
acquire and the two Aithiopias which he fashioned with (or without) their use.
In this chapter an outline of the political history of the Kingdom of Kush from
the early Twenty-Fifth Dynasty period to the fifth century bc will be added to
the brief remarks made in Chapter 1.1 on the Egyptian domination in Nubia and
the emergence of the post-New Kingdom native Kingdom of Kush.
From the reign of Sheshonq III (825–773bc) of the Twenty-Second Dynasty
(945–715bc) an increasing number of local rulers (first of all Lower Egyptian
ones) became autonomous in Egypt and adopted the title of king. By the middle
of the eighth century bc Egypt was politically in a state of extreme fragmen-
tation. Unlike the First and Second Intermediate Periods, however, this time
the political fragmentation of Egypt was not described as a fall into Chaos.
The essentially important political fiction of an undivided kingdom was main-
tained with the help of the ideology of Amun’s direct regency.120 Posteriority
remembered the Third Intermediate Period as a polyarchy based on dynastic
relationships and concordats121 (Herodotus’ δυώδεκα βασιλέας, “rule of twelve
kings”, “dodecarchy”, 2.147–148, 151–152122). Besides Amun’s direct regency, this
seems to have been the result of the successful economic-governmental func-
tioning of the smaller units that resolved the collapsed central administration
of the late New Kingdom. With a civil war starting in Year 15 (c. 836bc) of
Takelot II (850–825bc) of the Twenty-Second Dynasty,123 however, the political
disintegration of Egypt took a decisive turn.124 The war resulted in the expul-
sion of the Twenty-Second Dynasty from Thebes and the emergence of the
Theban Twenty-Third Dynasty (c. 818–715bc).
By the middle of the eighth century bc Kush was powerful enough to get
involved in the efforts made at the reunification of the politically fragmented
Egypt of the Third Intermediate Period.125 Encouraged by the Theban high
priesthood and probably with the consent of the Twenty-Third Dynasty, some
time in the second quarter of the eighth century bc King Kashta of Kush
(c. 775–755bc) appeared in Upper Egypt.126 The reigning Theban God’s Wife of
Amun adopted his daughter into the office of the God’s Wife of Amun Elect.127
The institution of the Divine Adoratrice, or God’s Wife of Amun of Thebes,
emerged from the function of the New Kingdom great royal wife as priestess
of the royal cult and vehicle for legitimate succession in her double quality as
mother and wife of the king, who, in turn, was regarded son of the god and at
the same time son of his bodily father. The adoption was an important vehicle
of the royal legitimacy of the Divine Adoratrice’s father.128 A peaceful overture
is also suggested by the fact that in the second half of the eighth and the first
half of the seventh centuries bc the descendants of Osorkon III, Takelot III, and
Rudamun of the Twenty-Third Dynasty continued to enjoy a high social status
in Thebes and were buried there.129
Kashta’s son and successor Piankhy declared himself ruler of Egypt in his
early reign and carried out military actions against Lower Egyptian polities hos-
tile to Thebes.130 It remains unknown if, and to what extent, Piankhy realized
124 Cf. H. Jacquet-Gordon, review of the first (1972) edn. of Kitchen 1996. BiOr 32 (1975)
358–360.
125 Cf. Taylor 2000.
126 He appears on the dedication stela fragment Cairo JE 41013 found at Elephantine as
Nsw-bıʾty Ny-Mꜣꜥt-Rꜥ Sꜣ-Rꜥ Nb-Tꜣwy Kꜣ-š-ṯ, “The King-of-Upper-and-Lower-Egypt, He-who-
belongs-to-Re’s Order, Son-of-Re, Lord-of-Two-Lands, Kashta”. Trans. R.H. Pierce in: FHN I
No. 4.
127 For the evidence, see FHN I Nos (3), 4; Ayad 2009 11 ff.; and cf. G.P.F. Broekman: Once Again
the Piankhy-blocks from the Temple of Mut at Karnak. CdÉ 87 (2012) 233–258.
128 See, with literature, Troy 1986 103ff. For the political significance of the God’s Wife of
Amun, see M. Gitton–J. Leclant: Gottesgemahlin. LÄ II (1977) 792–812; E. Graefe: Unter-
suchungen zur Verwaltung und Geschichte der Gottesgemahlin des Amun vom Beginn des
Neuen Reiches bis zur Spätzeit. Wiesbaden 1981; Ayad 2009.
129 For the evidence, see D.A. Aston–J.H. Taylor: The Family of Takeloth III and the “Theban
Twenty-third Dynasty”. in: Leahy (ed.) 1990 131–154.
130 For the evidence, see FHN I Nos 8, 10; Török 1997a 144ff.
20 chapter 1
the threat represented by the advance of the Assyrians towards Lower Egypt.
It had to be realized to its full extent by his successors. Let us see the develop-
ments in some detail.
In 745bc Tiglath-Pileser III usurped the throne of Assyria. In the course of
the subsequent decade he incorporated much of Syria into the Assyrian empire
and occupied territories in Israel.131 In 732bc he conquered Gaza, where he
appointed the chief of an Arab tribe as “vassal gatekeeper over Egypt”.132 Tef-
nakht, an ambitious Lower Egyptian local ruler, first “chief of the Me(shwesh)”
(c. 740–735bc), later133 king of Sais (c. 735–720 bc),134 viewed the Assyrian
advance from a close distance. He recognized it as a parallel to the Kushite
advance from the south and thus one of the principal factors that determined
his own policy of expansion.135
Tefnakht extended his control first over the western Delta and the area of
Memphis, then made advances towards Upper Egypt. In his Year 19 (c. 736bc)
Piankhy received the news at Napata that Tefnakht and his allies had besieged
Heracleopolis,136 the city of Piankhy’s ally Peftjauawybast; and then he also
learnt that Nimlot of Hermopolis,137 another ally of his, had defected to Tef-
nakht.138 The ensuing events are recorded in Piankhy’s Great Triumphal Stela
erected in his Year 21 (c. 734bc) in the great Amun temple at Napata.139 First the
king sent his troops stationed in Upper Egypt north to recapture Hermopolis
and also dispatched an army from Kush; then, after defeats suffered at Hera-
cleopolis, he decided to lead an army to Egypt himself. He left Napata in his Year
20 (c. 735bc) after the celebration of the rites of the New Year and arrived three
months later at Thebes to celebrate there the Opet Festival.140 As a result of
131 M. Liverani: The Growth of the Assyrian Empire in the Habur/Middle Euphrates Area: A
New Paradigm. State Archives of Assyria Bulletin 2 (1988) 81–98; J.N. Postgate: The Land
of Assur and the Yoke of Assur. World Archaeology 23 (1991–1992) 247–263; A.K. Grayson:
Assyrian Rule of Conquered Territory. in: J.M. Sasson (ed.): Civilizations of the Ancient Near
East. New York 1995 959–968.
132 Onasch 1994 5 f.
133 After the end of the campaign of Piankhy, cf. Kahn 2006b 60.
134 For Tefnakht, see Kitchen 1996 362ff.
135 Redford 1992 346 ff.
136 Modern Ihnasiya el-Medina.
137 Modern el-Ashmunein.
138 Cf. Kahn 1998.
139 Cairo JE 48862, 47086–47089, Grimal 1981a; FHN I No. 9; cf. also J. Assmann: Die Piye
(Pianchy) Stele: Erzählung als Medium politischer Repräsentation. in: H. Roeder (ed.): Das
Erzählen in frühen Hochkulturen I. Der Fall Ägypten. München 2009 221–236.
140 Cf. W.J. Murnane: Opetfest. LÄ IV (1981) 574–579.
herodotus’ nubia in modern scholarship 21
the subsequent military campaign, the local rulers accepted Piankhy’s author-
ity over Egypt. After the campaign Piankhy withdrew to Napata, his Nubian
capital (cf. Chapter 4.4), where he died in c. 721bc.
The conquest of Samaria around 720bc141 and subsequent interventions in
Transjordania represented a momentous step in the Assyrian advance towards
the Egyptian Delta. Conflicts with Lower Egyptian local rulers and the Assyrian
advance made it a necessity to transfer to the north the capital and royal
residence of the vast double kingdom of Kush and Egypt, which extended from
Memphis to remote Napata, i.e., from the Nile Delta to the Fifth Cataract.
To judge by his titulary,142 Piankhy’s successor Shabaqo (c. 721–707/706bc)
decided at his accession on an Egypto-centric policy and set up his court
at Memphis, Egypt’s ancient capital.143 Shabaqo’s successors, Shebitqo and
Taharqo, would similarly rule their double kingdom from Memphis.144
It would be ahistorical to suppose that the Kushites had, but missed, the
option of a brutally consequent unification of Egypt with the removal of all
local rulers. Anyway, the inherent dangers of the political fragmentation
became manifest in Shebitqo’s reign when the integrity of the central gov-
ernment received the first blows from the Assyrians. In support of Judah and
an anti-Assyrian coalition of Phoenician and Philistine cities formed in 704–
703bc, Shebitqo decided to meet the army of Sennacherib. Though in 701bc
Sennacherib’s forces at Eltekeh beat the Egyptian-Kushite army,145 Sennacherib
nevertheless retreated first to Philistia and then to Assyria, while Shebitqo’s
army returned to Egypt. The battle at Eltekeh could thus be interpreted as a
victory for the double kingdom.
Taharqo’s donation lists146 record the arrival in Nubia of precious Asiatic
goods in Years 8 and 10, which attests to trade contacts and possibly military
undertakings in the Levant around 683–681bc. The first blow that shattered the
image of imperial prosperity arrived in Year 17, 674bc, with the first attempt of
Esarhaddon of Assyria (681–669bc) at the conquest of Egypt.147 Esarhaddon’s
first invasion could be fended off, however, in March 673bc at the northeastern
frontier. Taharqo regained control over Philistia.
A new Assyrian invasion force arrived in March/April 671bc.148 After battles
fought in June/July at the frontier (?) in which, according to the Senjirli Stela,149
Taharqo was also wounded, the Assyrians took Memphis from where Taharqo
fled, probably to the south. Adopting the title of king of Egypt,150 Esarhaddon
appointed local kings, deputies and plenipotentiaries, in part Assyrian and in
part Egyptian, in the occupied Lower Egyptian area.151 The Assyrian vassals
included almost all of the Lower Egyptian local dynasts.152
Esarhaddon set out with his army for Egypt again in 669 bc,153 but he died
en route.154 He was probably going to react to the eventual reestablishment
of Taharqo in Lower Egypt and Memphis.155 Esarhaddon’s successor Ashur-
banipal (669–627bc) invaded Egypt in 667/666bc with devastating results.156
Taharqo’s Egypto-Kushite army was defeated,157 whereupon the king aban-
doned his troops and fleet and fled from Memphis to Thebes. Pursuing him
to Thebes the Assyrians did not encounter serious resistance and Taharqo was
forced to retreat still farther south. Returning to Nineveh, Ashurbanipal left
behind his vassals, among them Nekau I in Sais and Memphis and his son
Psamtek (the later Psamtek I) in Athribis,158 under the supervision of strong
Assyrian army contingents. It may have been the manner in which they were
handled by the Assyrian troops that made the vassal rulers of Sais, Mendes and
147 For the events between 673–663bc, see Kahn 2004; 2006a.
148 Esarhaddon Chronicle No. 14, Onasch 1994 21.
149 Berlin Vorderasiatisches Museum VA 2708, D.D. Luckenbill: Ancient Records of Assyria and
Babylonia II. Chicago 1927 224 ff.
150 EN.KUR.KUR = nb tꜣwy, for the evidence, see Onasch 1994 35.
151 Tablet BM 121029, Onasch 1994 34. See also the Ashurbanipal Annals, Prism E III.6ff.; ibid.
94 f.
152 See Ashurbanipal Annals, Prisms A and C, Onasch 1994 36ff.
153 For the events after 673bc, see Kahn 2006a.
154 Babylonian Chronicle No. 1, col. IV.30 f., Onasch 1994 18.
155 We only know that Taharqo’s authority was acknowledged in Memphis in 667bc, see Kahn
2006a 257 f.
156 For the complex evidence of the Ashurbanipal Annals, see Onasch 1994 61ff.
157 Onasch 1994 38, 149.
158 Modern Tell Atrib.
herodotus’ nubia in modern scholarship 23
Pelusium to change their opportunistic minds. In 665 bc they made new over-
tures to Taharqo who remained, however, in Kush, where he died in 664 bc.159
After receiving an oracular decree in the course of a temple incubatio
announcing his divine birth as son of Amun and his legitimate kingship in Kush
and Egypt (cf. Chapter 4.4), in 664bc Taharqo’s successor Tanwetamani sailed
with his army north to Thebes.160 Receiving legitimation from Amun of Karnak,
Tanwetamani set about to reconquer Egypt from the Assyrians and their vas-
sals. He reached Memphis without meeting opposition in Upper Egypt, which
seems to reflect the strong support he received from the Divine Adoratrice and
the Kushite dignitaries installed by his predecessors in Thebes. The seizure of
Memphis and then the defeat of Sais crushed the resistance of some of the Delta
dynasts while others withdrew into their fortresses, which apparently had not
been attacked by Tanwetamani.
Receiving the formal surrender of a fraction of the local dynasts, Tanweta-
mani reinstalled them in their ancestral territories under the condition that
his overlordship remained acknowledged.161 In 664/663bc the news of Tanwe-
tamani’s reoccupation of Memphis and the death of the Assyrian regent Nekau
of Sais prompted Ashurbanipal to start an expedition to Egypt.162 On Ashur-
banipal’s arrival at the Egyptian border Tanwetamani fled to Thebes. The Delta
dynasts hastened to renew their status as Assyrian vassals. Ashurbanipal’s army
pursued Tanwetamani and laid siege to Thebes, from where Tanwetamani with-
drew to Kush. The restoration of the dynasties of Nimlot in Hermopolis and
Peftjauawybast in Heracleopolis indicates that the government established by
the Assyrians after the horrible sack and burning of Thebes163 was built on the
basis of the power distribution prevailing in Piankhy’s reign.164 Psamtek I of
Sais was recognised by the Assyrians as sole king of Egypt. During the course
of the next nine years he was able to enforce the definitive submission of the
rest of the northern dynasts and expel the Assyrian troops stationed in Egypt
with the help of Gyges of Lydia.165 In 656bc, he finally was able to arrange for
166 R.A. Caminos: The Nitocris Adoption Stela. JEA 50 (1964) 71–101. For a new translation, see
Manuelian 1994 297 ff. See also Ayad 2009 22 ff.
167 For Aspelta’s monuments, see with further literature FHN I Nos (35)-40; Török 1997a 365ff.;
Bonnet–Valbelle 2005; Valbelle 2012.
168 Tanis: Cairo JE 67095, Karnak: PM II 37 (135), Sauneron–Yoyotte 1952; Shellal (set up now
at New Kalabsha): FHN I No. 41. Cf. Manuelian 1994 333ff.
169 kwr is an early form of the Meroitic word qore, “ruler”, see F.Ll. Griffith: Meroitic Inscriptions
II. Napata to Philae and Miscellaneous. London 1912 72 (Index s.v.). The word appears
first around 1000 bc in the form kꜣwꜣr in the Onomasticon of Amenemope, cf. Rilly 2007
16.
170 FHN I 284 ff.
171 Bonnet–Valbelle 2005 164ff.
herodotus’ nubia in modern scholarship 25
also reflected in the later classical tradition according to which the Persian ruler
conquered Meroe and gave the city its name172—we may suppose the memory
of Psamtek II’s Nubian expedition.173
Lower Nubia inevitably suffered serious damages during the conflict. The
negative change in the Egyptian attitude towards Kush as a part of Egyptian
history and as a neighbour was demonstrated not only by the military action,
but also by the subsequent destruction of the names and special royal insignia
of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty kings in their inscriptions and representations in
Egypt.174 The systematic damnatio memoriae intended not only the erasure
of the political memory of the Kushite rulers of Egypt. It also aimed at the
destruction of their existence in the other world. In general terms, it was a
manifestation of a complete dissociation as well as a declaration of a state
of hostility. It also may have been directed against the political ambitions
of the Theban Amun priesthood, which preserved a positive memory of the
Kushites175 (cf. Chapter 5).
Except for names and titularies, no textual evidence is known from the
reigns of the ten rulers who followed Aspelta on the throne of Kush.176 Yet
neither the archaeological evidence associated with them177 nor their titularies
give the impression of isolation or economic, political and cultural decline.
Their pyramid tombs display an adherence to early post-Twenty-Fifth-Dynasty
mortuary religion and burial customs. Political continuity is also indicated by
the homogeneity of the royal necropolis. The royal titularies emphasize the
concept of dynastic continuity from the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty.178 The general
lack of Horus,179 Nebty, and Golden Horus names shows the influence of the
172 FGrH 3C1, 673 F 63; Lucius Ampelius, Liber memorialis 13: Burstein 1995 163 note 20.
173 Burstein 1995 155 ff.—The possibility of an actual military conflict in Cambyses’ reign is
suggested by Morkot 1991 327.
174 The names of the Nubian rulers of Egypt were erased from the walls of the temples
and from their other monuments. The special Nubian regalia, such as the double uraeus
distinguishing the Nubian diadem from the traditional Egyptian diadem or the royal
necklace with pendants in the form of the head of the Nubian Amun, were chiselled out
from the statues and reliefs representing the kings of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty. Cf. Yoyotte
1951; Sauneron–Yoyotte 1952 157ff.; Russmann 1974 Appendix I No. 1, Appendix II Nos 5, 10,
13; Török 1987 7.
175 For the background, cf. Kienitz 1953 49 ff.; Lloyd 1982b.
176 For the evidence, see FHN I Nos (44)–(47), (49), (52)–(55); FHN II No. (67).
177 Cf. Dunham 1955; Török 1997a 375; 1997b 25 ff., 235ff.
178 See the throne names of Analma'aye, FHN I No. (46), Amaniastabarqo, ibid. No. (52),
Si'aspiqo, ibid. No. (53).
179 Except for Amaniastabarqo, FHN I No. (52).
26 chapter 1
reduced Egyptian titularies occurring with Psamtek III, the last Twenty-Sixth
Dynasty king, and with most Persian kings of the Twenty-Seventh Dynasty,180
rather than an independent departure from the five-part titulary in an attempt
to create a non-Egyptian type of titularies and introduce titles indicating native
traditions of rulership.
According to Herodotus (3.97, here Chapter 2, Text 8, cf. Chapter 4.10), the
Kushites living south of the Egyptian border sent gifts to the king of Persia.
While the Persian evidence depicts a vassal obliged to pay tribute, the reality
was probably commercial/gift exchange, coloured of course by the actual Per-
sian domination extending over Lower Nubia. In 7.69 (here Chapter II, Text 12,
cf. Chapter 4.13) the historian gives a description of Aithiopian warriors orig-
inating from the southern confines of Kush fighting in Xerxes I’s army. The
Persian side of the gift exchange is represented by pottery finds. For instance,
an Attic black sherd dated to the last quarter of the sixth century bc181 indicates
contact with Darius I’s Egyptian court. “Kushiya” appears among the coun-
tries that provided ivory for Darius’ palace at Susa and also figures as one of
the “tribute”-bringers depicted in the reliefs from the Apadana at Persepo-
lis (cf. Chapter 4.13). The Kingdom of Kush also appears in the lists of sub-
jects of Darius and Xerxes I.182 A fine Attic plastic rhyton made and signed
around 470bc by the potter Sotades and found under pyramid Beg. S. 24 at
the city of Meroe183 was produced—similarly to other vessels by Sotades—
for a Persian clientele184 and may be interpreted as a diplomatic gift sent to
the king of Kush by Xerxes I’s Egyptian satrap.185 While Kush does not seem to
have exploited the Egyptian revolt that occurred between Cambyses’ death in
522bc and 519/8bc, the subsequent anti-Persian revolts between c. 486–484bc
(under Xerxes I), between c. 463/2–449 (revolt of Inaros under Artaxerxes I),
and between c. 414/3–404bc (under Darius II186) considerably changed the
perspectives of Kushite contacts with Egypt.187 The conflicts in Egypt were con-
sidered a chance for the Kushite reoccupation of the region between the First
and Second Cataracts. The reconquest was probably accomplished during the
revolt of Inaros, as it is also indicated by the archaeological evidence dating
to this period the withdrawal of the Egyptian forces from the Lower Nubian
fortress of Dorginarti.188
186 For Darius II in the Egyptian evidence, see Vittmann 2011 401–405.
187 For the Kushite-Egyptian contacts in the fifth and fourth centuries bc, see Morkot 1991.
188 The mud-brick fortress on the island of Dorginarti at the northern end of the Second
Cataract, about halfway between Wadi Halfa and Mirgissa, though dated traditionally to
the Middle and/or the New Kingdom (see Heidorn 1991 205), was usually left unmen-
tioned in the discussion of the Egyptian military presence in Nubia. Reluctance to clas-
sify Dorginarti with its irregular triangular ground plan and rectangular gate towers and
bastions as a Middle/New Kingdom fortress was fully justified by Lisa Heidorn’s reex-
amination of the archaeological evidence from the salvage excavation conducted at the
site by Richard Holton Pierce in 1964. Heidorn argued that the pottery and small finds
from Dorginarti belong to Egyptian and Nubian types occurring in Third Intermediate
Period through Twenty-Seventh Dynasty (First Persian Period, 525–404bc) assemblages.
Heidorn concluded that “the fortress was occupied from the mid-seventh century bc to
the end of the fifth; however, a late eighth-century to early seventh-century bc date for
the original occupation (…) is not precluded” (Heidorn 1991 205). Albeit identifying var-
ious finds datable to the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty period, Heidorn nevertheless discussed
Dorginarti only within the context of an “at least nominal northern control [of Lower
Nubia] from the beginning of the Saite period down through sometime in the fifth cen-
tury” (Heidorn 1991 206). For Dorginarti and related problems, see recently L. Heidorn:
Dorginarti: Fortress at the Mouth of the Rapids. in: Jesse–Vogel (eds) 2013 293–307; Török
2013.
chapter 2
In this study thirteen passages dealing with Aithiopia are discussed. They are
dispersed in Books II (seven passages), III (three passages), IV (two passages)
and VII (one passage). Further passages in Books II, III, IV, VII, and IX with men-
tions of Αἰθίοπες,2 Αἰθιοπίη,3 Αἰθιοπικός,4 Αἰθιοπίς,5 or Αἰθίοψ6 are disregarded
here since they are irrelevant for the present investigation and/or repeat infor-
mation which occurs in a more complete form in the passages given below.
In the following I give the text of the Aithiopian passages in Tormod Eide’s
English translation as published in Volume I of the Fontes Historiae Nubiorum.
In three cases I shall briefly quote from Aubrey de Sélincourt’s translation,
revised by John Marincola, and in one case I also include an emendation
suggested by Stanley Burstein. For the sake of easier reference I shall use “Text”
as an auxiliary term when referring to the individual Aithiopian passages (Texts
1–12; note that passages 2.137 and 2.139 constitute together one narrative [Text
2] which is interrupted by a digression on a not-Aithiopian topic, viz., the
temple of Bubastis in the eastern Delta7).
1 Assmann 1990b 9.
2 2.22, 2.42, 2.100, 2.104, 3.94, 3.101, 7.9, 7.18, 7.69, 7.70, 9.32.
3 2.11m, 2.12, 2.28, 2.146, 7.90.
4 2.86, 2.127, 2.134, 2.176.
5 2.106.
6 2.140, 3.30.
7 Cf. Lloyd 2007 340 f. and see L. Habachi: Tell Basta. Le Caire 1957; A. El-Sawi: Excavations at
Tell Basta. Report of Seasons 1967–1971 and Catalogue of Finds. Prague 1979; C. van Sieclen: Tell
Basta. in: Bard (ed.) 1999 776–778.
8 Amasis (= Ahmose II, 570–526bc) was the penultimate ruler of the Twenty-Sixth Dynasty who
died one year before the Persian conquest of Egypt.
9 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 136.
137 After him [Asychis] (I was told) a blind man from the city of Anysis
became king; his name was Anysis. During his reign the Aithiopians and
their king Sabacos invaded Egypt with a great force. This blind man then
fled into the marshes, and the Aithiopian reigned over Egypt for fifty years,
during which time he performed the following: When some Egyptian
committed a crime, he did not want to have any of them killed, but judged
each according to the gravity of his crime, ordering the offender to heap
up dykes in front of his home city. And in this way the level of the cities
rose even higher. For they were first raised by the men who dug the canals
during the reign of Sesostris, then again in the time of the Aithiopian, and
thus became very elevated.11 (…)12
139 It was a dream which finally caused the departure, or rather, the
flight, of the Aithiopian Sabacos from Egypt. He dreamt that a man stood
by his bed and advised him to assemble all the priests in Egypt and cut
them in half, and he is supposed to have said that he believed the dream
to have been sent by the gods, to provoke him to sacrilege and involve him
in some disaster at the hands of either gods or men. He refused, therefore,
to do what was advised; on the contrary, he preferred to leave Egypt, as the
destined period of his rule had now come to an end—for before he left
Aithiopia, he had received a prophecy from the Aithiopian oracle that he
was fated to govern Egypt for fifty years. The fifty years were now up; and
that fact, added to the disquieting effect of his dream, caused him to leave
Egypt on his own accord.13
This Psammetichus had earlier fled the Aithiopian Sabacos, who had
killed his father Necos. When the Aithiopian withdrew as a result of
the dream he had had,15 the Egyptians from the nome of Sais recalled
Psammetichus, who at that time was in exile in Syria.16
Psammis reigned over Egypt for only six years. He made a campaign into
Aithiopia, died immediately afterwards, and was succeeded by his son
Apries.18
The Thebans and those who by their example abstain from [sacrificing]
sheep, say that this law was laid down for them as the result of the
following: Heracles desperately wanted to see Zeus, who did not want to
be seen by him. Finally, however, since Heracles insisted, Zeus contrived
the following: He flayed a ram, cut off the ram’s head and held it out in
front of him having covered himself with the fleece, and thus showed
himself to Heracles. This is the reason why the Egyptians make Zeus’
image with a ram’s head, and from the Egyptians this custom spread to the
Ammonians, who are colonists of Egyptians and Aithiopians and speak a
language which lies between those of the two peoples.20
Text 6. On the Nile between Elephantine and the Land of the Deserters, 2.29–
3121
The geography of Nubia from Elephantine above the First Cataract to the city of
Meroe and from Meroe to the region where the Egyptian Deserters were settled is
29 From no one else was I able to learn anything [about the sources of
the Nile], but this much in addition I learned by pressing my inquiries
as far as possible: on the one hand I went as an observer all the way to
the city of Elephantine, on the other I then investigated through hearsay
(ἀκοή) the region beyond. As one goes further up river from the city of
Elephantine the country rises, so there it is necessary to proceed with the
boat securely bound on both sides just like an ox. If the boat is torn away,
it rushes off borne by the force of the current. It takes four days to sail
through this region, and the Nile is here sinuous like the Meander. The
distance one has to sail in this way is twelve schoinoi. Thereupon you will
arrive at a smooth plain, where the Nile flows around an island; its name is
Takompso. From Elephantine on, the country is inhabited by Aithiopians,
and so is half of the island, while the other half is inhabited by Egyptians.
Next to the island there is a great lake around which nomad Aithiopians
live. When you have sailed through this lake you reach the course of the
Nile which flows into it. Then you disembark and travel along the river for
forty days, for sharp rocks emerge in the Nile and there are many sunken
rocks through which it is impossible to sail. After you have completed
the journey through this region during these forty days, you embark onto
another boat and sail for twelve days. Thereupon you arrive at a great city
with the name of Meroe. This city is said to be the capital of all the other
Aithiopians. The people there worship Zeus and Dionysos alone of the
gods, and honour them greatly. They also have an oracle of Zeus. They
go to war whenever this god bids them through oracles, and wherever he
bids them.
30 From this city you will arrive at the Deserters (Automoloi) sailing
again as long as it took to get from Elephantine to the capital of the
Aithiopians. These Deserters are called Asmach, a word that translated
into the Greek language means “they who stand at the king’s left hand”.
The defection to the Aithiopians by these 240 000 men of the Egyptian
warrior class took place for the following reason: During the reign of
Psammetichus garrisons were established in the city of Elephantine on
the Aithiopian frontier, and in Pelousian Daphnai another on the Arab
and the Assyrian frontier, and in Marea on the Libyan frontier yet another.
Even in my time, under the Persians, the garrisons are just as they were
in Psammetichus’ time; for the Persians have military posts both in Ele-
phantine and in Daphnai. These Egyptians, then, had been on guard for
32 chapter 2
three years without anybody relieving them; so after deliberation they all
by common consent defected from Psammetichus and went to Aithiopia.
When Psammetichus learnt this, he pursued them. Having overtaken
them he begged them with many words and would not let them aban-
don their paternal gods, their children and wives. It is said that one of
them pointed to his penis and said that where it was, there too they would
have children and wives. When these men arrived in Aithiopia, they gave
themselves over to the king of the Aithiopians. He rewarded them in the
following manner: Some Aithiopians had a disagreement with the king,
so he ordered the Deserters to remove them and inhabit their land. Once
they had settled among the Aithiopians, the Aithiopians learnt Egyptian
customs and have become more civilized.
31 So the Nile is known for the distance of four months of travel by boat
and on land, not counting its course in Egypt; for that is how many months
will be found to be used by someone who calculates the time it takes to
travel from Elephantine to these Deserters. The river flows from west and
the setting sun. From that point no one can offer a clear report, for there
the land is a desert by reason of the intense heat.22
other peoples, especially the following concerning the royalty: the man
among the citizens whom they find to be the tallest and to have strength
in proportion to his height they find fit to be king.
21 So when the Fish-eaters reached these people, they offered their
gifts to their king and said the following, “Cambyses, King of the Persians,
wishing to become your friend and protector (ξεῖνός26), sent us with
orders to enter into negotiations with you and offers you these gifts
which he too takes special pleasure in using himself.” The Aithiopian, who
had learnt that they came as spies, spoke to them in this vein, “Neither
did the King of the Persians send you as bringers of gifts because he
considers it important to become my friend (ξεῖνός); nor are you telling
the truth—for you have come as spies against my kingdom—nor is he
a just man. For if he had been just, he would not have coveted another
country than his own, nor would he reduce to slavery men who have done
him no wrong. Now give him this bow and tell him this, ‘The King of the
Aithiopians has a piece of advice for the King of the Persians. When the
Persians can draw bows that are of this size as easily as this, then let him
march against the long-lived Aithiopians with a superior force; but he
should be grateful to the gods that up to now they have not put it in the
minds of the children of the Aithiopians to acquire other land than their
own.’”
22 Having said this he unstrung the bow and handed it to them. He
then took the purple robe and asked them what it was and how it was
made. When the Fish-eaters had told him the truth about the purple
and the dyeing, he said that they were deceptive and that their clothes
were deceptive too. Secondly, he asked them about the gold objects, the
necklace and the bracelets. When the Fish-eaters explained their use as
ornaments, the king laughed; and, thinking they were fetters, said that
they themselves had stronger ones than those. Thirdly, he asked about the
myrrh. When they told him how it was produced and used for anointing,
he made the same comment as about the robe. When he came to the
wine and was told how it was produced, he was quite enthusiastic about
the drink and went on to ask what kind of food the king ate and what
was the longest a Persian could live. They told him that the king ate
bread, explaining all about wheat and that the maximum lifetime laid
down for a man was eighty years. To this the Aithiopian replied that
it was no wonder they lived so short a time since they fed on manure;
they would not even have been able to live that long if they had not
restored themselves with this drink—and he drew the attention of the
Fish-eaters to the wine, for in that respect his people were inferior to the
Persians.
23 When the Fish-eaters in turn asked the King about the Aithiopians’
lifespan and food habits, he answered that most of them attained 120
years, that some surpassed even that, and that their food was boiled
meat and their drink milk. When the spies expressed amazement at the
number of years, he took them to a fountain with water which made
people who bathed there glisten all the more, as if it had been a fountain
of oil, and there was a smell from it as if from violets. The water of this
fountain was so thin (lit. ἀσθενής, “weak”), the spies said, that virtually
nothing would be able to float on it, neither wood nor things lighter
than wood, everything sank to the bottom. This water, if it really was as
described, could be the cause of their longevity, since they use it regularly.
When they left the fountain, he led them to a men’s prison where all were
bound in fetters of gold; for among these Aithiopians copper is the rarest
and most precious of all things. After having visited the prison, they also
visited the so called Table of the Sun.
24 Thereupon they finally visited the coffins of the Aithiopians, which
are said to be made of a transparent material (ὕαλος)27 in the follow-
ing manner: When they have dried the body, whether in the manner of
the Egyptians or in some other way, they cover it with gypsum and dec-
orate it all over with paint, imitating as far as possible the appearance
of the deceased; then they place around it a hollow block made of the
transparent material (this they dig up from the ground in great quan-
tity, and it is easy to work). Inside the block the corpse can be clearly
seen, while causing no disagreeable smell or any other unpleasantness,
and it leaves everything visible, just as the corpse is. The closest relatives
keep the block in their houses for a year, bringing it all the first-fruit offer-
ings and sacrifices; thereafter they take it away and set it up outside the
city.
25 After having visited everything, the spies departed home. When
they had given their report, Cambyses became angry and immediately
undertook a campaign against the Aithiopians, without either giving any
orders for supply of food nor himself realizing that he was about to make
27 Hyalos is the word used for alabaster, crystal, amber, and (first in Plato) for glass (note by
T. Eide, FHN I 327 n. 93).
36 chapter 2
a campaign to the farthest part of the world. Being a madman and not in
his senses he undertook the campaign as soon as he heard the report of
the Fish-eaters, ordering the Greeks who were present to remain there,
but bringing all his infantry with him. When, during the march, he came
to Thebes, he detached about 50,000 men from his army; and these he
commanded to enslave the Ammonians and set fire to the oracle of Zeus,
while he himself led the rest of his army against the Aithiopians. Before
the army had completed one fifth of the journey all that they had by way of
food was used up, and after the food there was a shortage of pack animals
too because they were being eaten. If then Cambyses on learning this
had changed his mind and led his army back, he would have been a wise
man in spite of his initial mistake; but in fact he paid no attention and
continued his march forward. As long as the soldiers could get anything
from the ground, they survived by feeding on grass; but when they came
to the sand, some of them committed an outrageous act: they chose by lot
one man out of ten and ate him. When Cambyses learnt this, the fear of
cannibalism made him abandon the campaign against the Aithiopians.
He marched back and arrived at Thebes having lost a great part of his
army. From Thebes he went down to Memphis, dismissed the Greeks and
sent them off by sea.28
26 So ended the expedition against Aithiopia (…)
Text 8. The gifts delivered to the king of Persia by the Aithiopians along the
Egyptian borders, 3.9729
The tribute paid to Persia by the Aithiopians living south of the Egyptian border is
recorded in the history of the reign of Darius.
Now the following were not required to deliver any tribute, but did bring
gifts: the Aithiopians along the Egyptian borders, whom Cambyses sub-
dued when he marched against the long-lived Aithiopians, (…) who30
live around the holy Nysa and celebrate the festivals for Dionysos. [These
Aithiopians and their neighbours have the same kind of semen as the
These are the Libyans35 that I am able to mention by name; most of them
do not care anything about the king of the Medes (Persians) now, nor
did they then. I have one more piece of information on this land: four
peoples share it, not more, as far as I know, and two of the peoples are
autochthonous, the two others not; the Libyans and the Aithiopians are
autochthonous, the former inhabit the northern, the latter the south-
ern part of Libya; the Phoenicians and the Greeks, however, are immi-
grants.36
31 Interpolation considered as an intrusion in the editions of Stein 1893 and Legrand 1939
but accepted by Tormod Eide in FHN I 312 f. and in the translation of the Histories by de
Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 214.
32 Trans. T. Eide, FHN I 312 f., No. 57.
33 Burstein 1995 159.
34 FHN I No. 61.
35 By “Libya” ancient authors generally mean the whole of Africa west of the Nile. For a full
survey of Herodotus’ uses of the terms “Libya” and “Libyans”, see Honigmann 1926.
36 Trans. T. Eide, FHN I 319, No. 61.
38 chapter 2
The Aithiopian Trog[l]odytes are the swiftest runners of all men of whom
tales reach our ears. The food of the Trog[l]odytes is snakes and lizards
and similar reptiles. They use a language that does not resemble any other;
rather they utter shrill sounds like bats.39
To the southwest41 Aithiopia extends toward the setting sun, the furthest
inhabited country. This country produces much gold, huge elephants, all
kinds of wild trees, and ebony; and the men there are very tall, handsome,
and long-lived.42
The Aithiopians had leopard and lion skins fastened to themselves; they
had bows made of palm wood, of great length, not less than four cubits,
and in addition small reed arrows, with tips made of sharpened stone
instead of iron, from the kind of stone they also use to engrave seals. They
also had spears with horns of gazelles sharpened to a point as spearheads,
and they had clubs with knobs. They go into battle with one half of their
37 The original form of the ethnonym was probably Trogodytai, see Chapter 4.11.
38 FHN I No. 66.
39 Trans. T. Eide, FHN I 331, No. 66.
40 FHN I No. 62.
41 Literally “as noon inclines”, an expression of time here used locally, “where the south turns
(toward the west)” (note by T. Eide, FHN I 320 n. 89).
42 Trans. T. Eide, FHN I 320, No. 62.
43 FHN I No. 58.
the aithiopian passages in english translation 39
body smeared with chalk, the other half with ochre. The Arabians and the
Aithiopians who live beyond Egypt were under the command of Arsames,
son of Darius and Artystone, daughter of Cyrus, Darius’ favourite wife, of
whom he had a statue made of hammered gold.44
Before going down to the discussion of the actual contexts in which we encoun-
ter the Aithiopian passages, we have first to deal with some terms to be used
below, viz., λόγος, logos, “(oral) report”, “story”, “prose text” and προσθήκη/παρεν-
θήκη, “digression”/“insertion”. Herodotus uses logos to refer to the whole of his
work as well as to smaller narrative units in it2 while representing himself as a
narrator and at the same time a histōr (ἵστωρ)3 who is retelling stories heard
from others. He frequently separates the retold logoi (or the narrative units
he creates from reshaped logoi4) by simple narrative devices (“the Ammonians
say”; “it is said”) or more complex framing sentences.5
Neither Jacoby, who suggests in his monumental Realencyclopädie article
a fluid general definition for logos as an Erzählung von oder über etwas,6 nor
the majority of the later generations of Herodotean scholars make a clear ter-
which Herodotus could not present “in its proper place”.19 The study of the
digressions thus classified does not support their evaluation as “additional
material” inserted in the main narrative, however. The explanation of such a
procedure on the basis of the speculation that “his advancing age (…) urged
(Herodotus) to give his knowledge an existence independent of his own, then
omitting any piece of it meant consigning it to oblivion”20 is not convincing,
either. Not denying that there are indeed some digressions of the “additional
material” kind, one cannot fail to notice that the overwhelming majority of the
digressions is inserted in a calculated manner in places where they support
the articulation of Herodotus’ worldview. Nevertheless, it is not necessary to
go as far as Immerwahr’s radical suggestion according to which there is no
hierarchy of major and minor units in the Histories: According to Immerwahr,
nothing should be termed digression as it would indicate unimportance.21 The
recent consensus about the genre of digression is summarized thus by John
Marincola:
The division between narratives like 3.17–26 and the Herodotean digression
as characterized by Marincola remains rather imprecise, however. Instead of
insisting on superfluous terminological distinctions, it is advisable to use both
logos and “digression” as auxiliary terms.
As we have seen in Chapter 3.1, Jacoby defines the logoi about foreign lands
and peoples as stories consisting de rigueur of four components, viz., accounts
of the land and its geographical situation, the form of life and the laws and
customs of its inhabitants, the “great accomplishments” and “marvels” of its
natural and/or human world, and finally an account of its political history.23
Accordingly, he classifies Chapters 3.17–26 (here Chapter II, Text 7) together
with the logoi about Lydia (1.6–94), Babylon (1.192–200), the Massagetae (1.201–
216), Egypt (2.1–3.16), India (3.98–105), Scythia (4.5–82), Libya (4.168–199), and
Thrace (5.3–9).
Several writers accept Jacoby’s definition and refer with him to the narra-
tive in Chapters 3.17–26 as “Aithiopian logos”.24 Jacoby characterizes it as fol-
lows:
[während im] allerdings sehr kurzen λόγος über die Äthiopen (…) die
historischen Fakta ganz dürftig [sind], das ethnographische Material ver-
hältnismässig reichhaltig ist. Letzteres wird nämlich an drei verschiede-
nen Stellen eingelegt; das Hauptstück über die νόμοι [customs] III 20 an
der gleichen Stelle, wo sonst diese Exkurse stehen; das eine grosse θαυμά-
σιον [marvel], die ἡλίου τράπεζα [the Table of the Sun], als Motivierung der
Aussendung von κατόπται [spies] (III 17–18); der Rest wird auf den Dia-
log zwischen Äthiopenkönig und den von Xerxes [correctly: Cambyses!]
zu ihm gesandten Ichthyophagen verteilt (III 21–24).25
Several questions remain open here. Is the “in any case very short” narrative
a standard logos conforming in structure and contents with the logoi listed
above, or should it be defined in a different way? Is it possible that Herodotus
planned a self-contained Aithiopian logos which he did not complete? If so,
should the Aithiopian passages be interpreted as dispersed fragments of an
unaccomplished logos? In order to answer these questions, we have to con-
sider the Aithiopian passages within their narrative context. An introductory
overview is presented in the table below:
23 Jacoby 1913 341 ff., esp. 347. We read, however, on p. 342 that “Man kann sich garnicht
vorstellen, wie z. B. die kurze Beschreibung Thrakiens oder die von Aethiopien als beson-
dere λόγοι hätten existieren können”.
24 E.g., Hofmann–Vorbichler 1979; FHN I 323 ff.; Dorati 2011, etc.
25 Jacoby 1913 347.
44 chapter 3
Text 2 Hdt. 2.137, 139 Sabacos (Shabaqo) Dyn. 25 reign of Anysis 2.137–140 in:
Sabacos as ruler of Egypt Egyptian history to the reign of
Amasis 2.99–182
Text 4 Hdt. 2.161 Psammis (Psamtek II) Dyn. 26, reign of Psamtek II 2.159–161
Psammis’ Nubian expedition 593bc26 in: Egyptian history to the
reign of Amasis 2.99–182
Text 5 Hdt. 2.42 Cambyses First Persian Period customs of the Egyptians
Aithiopia and the Siwa oracle (Dyn. 27) 2.35–98 in: accession of
Cambyses, his campaigns
against Egypt and Aithiopia
2.1–3.38
Text 6 Hdt. 2.29–31 Cambyses First Persian Period geography of Egypt and
The Nile between Elephantine (Dyn. 27) Aithiopia 2.2–34
and the land of the Deserters
Text 7 Hdt. 3.17–26 Cambyses First Persian Period Cambyses’ campaigns against
Cambyses in Nubia; the land (Dyn. 27) Aithiopia and the Ammonians
and customs of the long-lived 3.17–26 in: campaigns against
Aithiopians Egypt and Aithiopia 2.1–3.38
Text 8 Hdt. 3.97 Darius I First Persian Period reign of Darius 3.89–7.3
The gifts delivered by the (Dyn. 27)
Aithiopians to the king of Persia
Text 9 Hdt. 4.197 Darius I First Persian Period Libyan tribes and their
The autochthonous origin of (Dyn. 27) customs 4.168–199 in: reign of
the Aithiopians Darius 3.89–7.3
Text 10 Hdt. 4.183 Darius I First Persian Period Libyan tribes and their
The Aithiopian Trog[l]odytes (Dyn. 27) customs 4.168–199 in: reign of
Darius 3.89–7.3
Text 11 Hdt. 3.114 Darius I First Persian Period meditation on the fringes of
Aithiopia on the fringes of the (Dyn. 27) the inhabited world 3.106– 117
inhabited world in: reign of Darius 3.89– 7.3
Text 12 Hdt. 7.69 Xerxes I First Persian Period catalogue of Xerxes’ forces
Aithiopians in Xerxes’ army (Dyn. 27) 7.61–99 in: Xerxes’ campaigns
against the Greeks 7.4–9.122
In 2.110 (Text 1) Herodotus states that the Egyptian king, Sesostris, also ruled
over Aithiopia. In 2.137+139 (Text 2) and 2.152 (Text 3) the historian speaks
somewhat longer about the Aithiopian Sabacos’ Egyptian regency. The name
Sabacos is a rendering of Egyptian Šꜣ-bꜣ-kꜣ, Nubian Shabaqo.27 Shabaqo was
king of Kush and, as second ruler of the Egyptian Twenty-Fifth Dynasty, pha-
raoh of Egypt.28 Passage 2.161 (Text 4) mentions the Nubian campaign29 of
Psammis, the historical King Psamtek II of the Twenty-Sixth Dynasty,30 as part
of the account of his reign. In 3.97 (Text 8) Herodotus records the gifts, i.e.,
the tribute sent to the king of Persia by two groups of Aithiopians, namely,
the Aithiopians living in Lower Nubia under the domination of Egypt’s Persian
rulers, and the independent Aithiopians living south of Lower Nubia (see Chap-
ter 4.10). The Aithiopian tribute is one of the items in the list of the revenues
deriving from the provinces of the Persian Empire (3.89–97).
27 In this study I use the reconstructed Nubian form of Twenty-Fifth Dynasty royal names,
cf. Rilly 2007 21.
28 FHN I Nos (12), (13).
29 FHN I Nos (36), 41–43.
30 Cf. Lloyd 2007 360 ff.
46 chapter 3
The perspective of Texts 1–4 is Egyptian. They are organic parts of the polit-
ical history of Egypt from Min (Menes), the first human king of Egypt, to
the reign of Amasis (2.99–182). While in 2.161 (Text 4) the historian speaks
about Psamtek II’s Aithiopian campaign, he does not connect it in any way to
Aithiopian history. The topic as well as the perspective of Text 8 is Persian. It
is fitted in the monumental account of Darius I’s reign (3.89–7.3). Chapter 7.69
(Text 12) contains information about Aithiopians fighting in Xerxes I’s army.
Here the topic of the larger narrative context—Xerxes’ campaigns against the
Greeks—is Persian.
Three passages occur in various ethnographic discourses. 4.197 (Text 9) is a
very brief digression inserted into the account of the Libyan tribes and their
customs (4.168–199), being itself a long digression placed in the history of the
reign and campaigns of Darius. 4.197 (Text 9) contains a brief remark about
the autochthonous origin of the Aithiopians, repeating one of the stereotypes
used by Herodotus to explain why peoples came to be where they lived.31
The context of 4.183 (Text 10) is the same. It presents a short remark on the
customs of the Aithiopian Trog[l]odytes, one of the (mostly fabulous) tribes
described by Herodotus as living west of the Nile. 3.114 (Text 11) contains a
brief ethnographical note on the long-lived Aithiopians defining them as a peo-
ple living at the southwestern confines of the inhabited world. It appears in
the history of Darius’ reign as part of a digression in which Herodotus sets
forth his thoughts about the lands that lie at the ends of the earth (3.106–
117).
The perspective of the ethnographical passage 2.42 (Text 5) is different. As
a short digression on religious relations between the Egyptians, Aithiopians,
and Ammonians,32 it is fitted in the description of the gods, cults, and religious
traditions of Egypt (2.37–76), i.e., in the account of the customs of the Egyptians
(2.35–98), which is part of the narrative on Cambyses’ accession, his campaigns
against Egypt and Aithiopia, and his madness (2.1–3.38).
Among the Aithiopian passages there are two longer accounts. 2.29–31 (Text
6) describes the land of Aithiopia and provides information about some cus-
toms and traditions of the Aithiopians. Since the Nile arrives in Egypt from
Aithiopia, the description of the land of Aithiopia continues the account of
the φύσις χώρης, the “physical features of the land” (2.5) of Egypt (2.2–34). At
the end of the description of Egypt from the Delta to Elephantine there stands
31 Either they were autochthonous, or they arrived there “a long time ago”, see Cobet 2002
404.
32 I.e., the inhabitants of the Oasis of Siwa, the site of the oracle of Zeus Ammon. Cf. Lloyd
1976 195 ff. and see Chapter 4.6.
the problem of the “aithiopian logos” 47
a digression about the source of the Nile (see below). The Aithiopian passage
starts with two much quoted sentences (2.29), providing a transition between
the two accounts and at the same time separating them:
On this subject [i.e., the springs of the Nile] I could get no further infor-
mation from anybody. As far as Elephantine I speak as an eyewitness, but
further south from hearsay.33
[B]etween Syene, near Thebes, and Elephantine there were two moun-
tains of conical shape called Crophi and Mophi; and that the springs of
the Nile, which were of fathomless depth, flowed out from between them.
Half of the water flowed northwards towards Egypt and half southwards
towards Ethiopia.37
When the Nile begins to rise, the hollows and marshy ground close beside
it are the first to fill, the water from the river seeping through the banks,
and no sooner are these low-lying bits of ground formed into lakes than
they are found to contain a multitude of small fish.41
39 Pliny, NH 5.55.
40 For the Egyptian tradition concerning Ḳrtj, the dual source, cf. J. Yoyotte: Nil. in: G. Posener
et al.: Knaurs Lexikon der Ägyptischen Kultur. München-Zürich 1960 181–184 184; Bonneau
1964; K.W. Butzer: Nilquellen. LÄ IV (1981) 506–507; H. Beinlich: Die “Osirisreliquien”: Zum
Motiv der Körperzergliederung in der altägyptischen Religion. Wiesbaden 1979 11; for Crophi
(Κρῶφι or Χρωφί) and Mophi (Μῶφι or Μωφί), cf. Locher 1999 104ff.
41 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 130.
42 Sourdille 1910 7.
43 Cf. Lloyd 1976 379f.; 2007 306; but see also Bonneau 1964 63ff., 171ff.
44 Gabolde 1995.
45 Gabolde 1995 figs 1, 2.
46 K.W. Butzer: Early Hydraulic Civilization in Egypt. A Study in Cultural Ecology. Chicago-
London 1976 12 ff., fig. 1.
47 Cf. Bonneau 1964 63ff.
the problem of the “aithiopian logos” 49
3.17–26 (Text 7), the second of the two longer Aithiopian passages, presents a
description of the city of Meroe, the capital of the long-lived Aithiopians and its
marvels, furthermore an account of Aithiopian kingship and the customs and
traditions of the long-lived Aithiopians. After an introduction on Cambyses’
initiative to send expeditions against the Carthaginians, the Ammonians, and
the Aithiopians, the narrative about Aithiopia starts with a digression (3.18)
on Cambyses’ decision to send spies to Aithiopia in order “to see if the Sun’s
Table said to be among these Aithiopians really existed”. In 3.20 Herodotus
relates that the Aithiopians “are said to be the tallest and most handsome of all
men” and “they are also said to have customs which set them apart from other
peoples”. Chapters 21–24 relate the encounter of the king of the Aithiopians
with the spies of Cambyses. We learn about the lifespan of the Aithiopians, their
food and drink, and further the miraculous fountain that is the cause of their
longevity. Herodotus also speaks about their prison with fetters in gold and
about their transparent coffins. Chapters 25–26 give an account of Cambyses’
failed Aithiopian campaign (see Chapters 4.8, 9).
As to the types of information they convey, Texts 1–5 and 8–12 may give the
impression of being fragments of an independent logos. Considering them and
the rest of the Aithiopian passages within the actual narrative contexts in which
they are inserted, however, we have the strong impression that Herodotus
collected these particular pieces of information (be they “realistic” or not)
originally in order to use them in support of other narratives and not for a
self-contained Aithiopian logos.48 The absolutely insubstantial information
48 Here a terminological compromise may be put forward. Namely, it was not necessarily
the availability or the absence of “standard” types of information that played the decisive
role in the composition of a logos. We read in 1.184 that “[t]here have been many kings of
Babylon who helped to fortify the city and adorn its temples, and I will tell their story in my
History of Assyria” (trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 80). But there is no Assyrian logos
in the Histories, even though we find ample material dispersed in Books I, III and IV that
would support the hypothesis that Herodotus may have had the intention to write one (cf.
Asheri 2007b 203f. on 1.181–184). In Asheri’s view “the first six books [of the Histories] cre-
ate the impression that a number of pre-existing ethnographic, geographical, historical,
and constitutional logoi were later integrated into the work: independent logoi, so it seems,
originally conceived of as short monographs (…) The transformation of independent logoi
into digressions dependent on a unified narrative must have required a considerable
amount of effort in the reworking and integrating into one whole of contents, thought,
and style, obliterating in the process traces of the separate compositions. In Herodotus’
work this process of reworking is incomplete” (Asheri 2007a 12f.). The Aithiopian pas-
sages clearly suggest that here Asheri goes too far with his generalizing assumption of
pre-existing and laboriously united logoi.
50 chapter 3
about political history contained in the Aithiopian passages does not stand
comparison with the density of information provided in the accounts of Lydia,
Egypt, or the Medo-Persian kingdom, logoi that also present king-lists.49 As an
imaginary whole, the Aithiopian passages cannot be compared, either, to the
logoi of great complexity and central in their aims to the overall message of the
Histories but containing no (Indians, 3.98–101; Scythians, 4.59–82; Thracians,
5.3–8) or little reference to political history, and which name, if at all, only one
or two rulers (Babylon, 1.184–187; Massagetae, 1.205, 213; Libya, 4.145–167).
If an Aithiopian passage has an actual historical dimension at all, this dimen-
sion is not Aithiopian. In Chapter 4 below we shall discuss the contents of the
individual Aithiopian passages in greater detail. One of the lessons to be drawn
from that survey will be that in the case of Aithiopia Herodotus did not get
access to information that would have been enough and adequate for a self-
contained logos. In the long passage on Aithiopia south of the Egyptian border
(2.29–31, Text 6) the account of the Deserters is tied to Psammetichus, i.e.,
Psamtek I, without relating this king to Aithiopian history, who is otherwise
part of the abstract grid of chronological data in Book II. The case of 2.161 (Text
4) is similar, and so is the account of the land of the long-lived Aithiopians (3.17–
26, Text 7). These accounts are part of the history of Cambyses’ campaigns, but
are in no relation to an eventual history of the long-lived Aithiopians. They are
utopian, without time dimension.
The chronological range of the Aithiopian passages is also significant. It
is worth recalling here Justus Cobet’s reconstruction of the abstract grid that
integrates Herodotus’ indications of historical time. Cobet’s grid
Chapter 4.4 below), i.e., about the length of the reign of a dynasty according to
the Egyptian historical tradition (for Manetho, see Chapter 4.4). The Sabacos
story is an organic part of the history of Egypt. Beyond stating that Sabacos
conquered Egypt from Aithiopia, Herodotus does not connect him to either of
his two Aithiopias (cf. Chapters 4.7–9).
Let us return for a moment to the table presented above (pp. 44 f). The
Aithiopian passages constitute five chronological units (whereas there may be
overlaps between certain units). The first unit contains a single one-sentence
passage: Text 1 (2.110) refers laconically to Sesostris’ rule over Nubia. The ref-
erence is part of the historical section of the Egyptian logos, more closely the
account of the reign of Sesostris. The Sesostris of Herodotus51 may be identical
with both Senusret I and III and stands for the whole Twelfth Dynasty (1985–
1773bc). The two passages in the second unit, viz., Texts 2 (2.137, 139) and 3
(2.152), refer to King Sabacos, who stands for the whole Twenty-Fifth Dynasty
(755–656bc52). The third unit (Texts 3, 2.152; 4, 2.161; 6, 2.29–31) contains refer-
ences to the regencies of the Twenty-Sixth Dynasty pharaohs Psamtek I (664–
610bc) and Psamtek II (595–589bc). The fourth unit (Texts 5, 2.42; 6, 2.29–31;
7, 3.17–26; 8, 3.97; 12, 7.69) contains passages referring to the reign of the first
rulers of the Twenty-Seventh Dynasty (i.e., the First Persian Period53), namely,
Cambyses (525–522bc),54 Darius I (522–486bc)55 and Xerxes I (486–465 bc).56
A fifth unit (Texts 9, 4.197; 10, 4.183; 11, 3.114) is constituted by passages with refer-
ences to what one may term as “the recent past” or rather the personal memory
of Herodotus’ own generation.57
Apart from the mention of a Middle Kingdom pharaoh also ruling over
Nubia, the Aithiopian passages relate thus to the periods of the Twenty-Fifth,
Twenty-Sixth, and early Twenty-Seventh Dynasties and to Herodotus’ own
51 For the Egyptian Sesostris tradition, see Sethe 1900; Malaise 1966.
52 For the dating of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty, see Kahn 2001. For the chronology of the
Egyptian rulers before and after the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty, see Shaw (ed.) 2000 479–483.
53 For the First Persian Period, see Posener 1936; Kienitz 1953; E. Bresciani: La satrapia
d’Egitto. Studi classici e orientali 7 (1958) 153–187; J.D. Ray: Egypt: 525–404B.C. in: J. Board-
man et al. (eds): The Cambridge Ancient History IV. Persia, Greece and the Western Mediter-
ranean c. 525–479 B.C. (2nd edn.) Cambridge 1988 254–286; Lloyd 2000 383ff.; Vittmann
2011 377 ff.
54 For Cambyses in the Egyptian evidence, see E. Cruz-Uribe: The Invasion of Egypt by
Cambyses. Trans 25 (2003) 9–60 (non vidi); Vittmann 2011 377–382.
55 For Darius I in the Egyptian evidence, see Vittmann 2011 382–388.
56 For Xerxes I in the Egyptian evidence, see Vittmann 2011 395–398.
57 Cf. Cobet 2002 398 f.
52 chapter 3
time, i.e., the period c. between 450 and the early 420s bc58 (covering roughly
the reign of Artaxerxes I, 465–424bc59). Within the enormous dimensions of
time embraced by the Histories, the Aithiopian passages are anchored in a
diminutive—c. three and a half centuries long—section of history between
the mid-eighth and the late fifth centuries bc. Even within this short period,
Herodotus perceives the historical time of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty only vagu-
ely. He has a somewhat clearer picture only of the period starting with the reign
of his Psammetichus, i.e., Psamtek I.60
Uniting as an experiment the Aithiopian passages into a hypothetical Aithi-
opian logos, we would find that the history of Aithiopia—as far as this “recon-
structed” narrative has a historical dimension at all—has only Egyptian refer-
ence points. Nevertheless, there is no indication whatsoever that Herodotus
would also have intended to project his tripartite chronological structure of
Egyptian history61 (from Min to Moeris; from Sesostris to Sethos [= Shebitqo62];
the Twenty-Sixth Dynasty) also on Aithiopia, while he does recount the his-
tory of several other non-Greek peoples in the framework of threefold parti-
tions,63 carefully coordinating them with the overall chronological structure of
his universal history.64 A similar structure is also prevailing in Greek history
(most ancient period down to Heracles; a long Heraclid period; a better known
archaic period).65
It may thus be concluded that Herodotus did not collect material for, and/or
compose an Aithiopian logos dealing with the historical kingdom of Kush
lying south of Egypt’s southern border, whose kings also ruled over Egypt for
a period of time some centuries before Herodotus’ day. Instead, he described
two Aithiopias, a “really existing” one identical to Lower Nubia under the
domination of the Saite Twenty-Sixth Dynasty and then under the rule of
Egypt’s Persian conquerors (Text 6); and a utopian one, the Aithiopia lying on
58 The latest datable reference made in the Histories is to the first two years of the Pelopon-
nesian War, 431–430 bc. Herodotus died sometime between 421 and 415. Cf. J. Marincola:
Introduction in: de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 ix–xiii; Asheri 2007a 2.
59 For Artaxerxes I in the Egyptian evidence, see Vittmann 2011 398–400.
60 Cf. Vannicelli 2001 232.
61 I.e., the history of Egypt under the Human Kings. For the chronology containing the Divine
and the Human Kings, see Lloyd 1975 185 ff.; 2007 344ff.
62 For Sethos, see Chapter 5.1.
63 See Vannicelli 2001 230ff.
64 Asheri 2007a 32 fig. 1. For the chronology of Herodotus, see Asheri 2007a 30ff. and cf.
H. Strasburger: Herodots Zeitrechnung. Historia 5 (1956) 129–161.
65 Cf. Vannicelli 2001 230.
the problem of the “aithiopian logos” 53
the fringes of the inhabited world (Text 7). The latter he described as the home
of the long-lived Aithiopians, a fabulous people without history: the peoples
living on the fringes, i.e., the “ethnē, tribes or nations (…) have no history and
time makes no difference for their culture and way of life”.66
Before going too far with our negative conclusions, however, we have to
remember that Herodotus also inserted “realistic” information into the account
of the land of the long-lived Aithiopians, or, more precisely, he did insert in it
information that his informants may have regarded, and/or modern Herodo-
tean studies may regard as “realistic”. Therefore, in the next chapter an attempt
will be made at the identification of the “realistic” elements occurring in the
Aithiopian passages.
66 Cobet 2002 402f.; cf. the accounts of the Massagetae (1.201–204, 215, 216), the Indians
(3.98–105), and the Libyans (4.168–199).
chapter 4
1 On Sources
Having thus defined the methods he had followed in the account of the customs
of the Egyptians (2.35–98), and indicating at the same time the method he is
going to employ in the subsequent section of his Egyptian logos, the historian
moves to the account of Egypt’s history from Min to Sethos. He names his
source4 for the history of Egypt: “the priests told me”,5 namely, the priests of
the temple of Ptah at Memphis.6
1 J. Percival: Truth in the Greek and Roman Historians. Lecture delivered at the ARLT Summer
School, Cardiff 1991 5. Quoted by Grant 1995 95.
2 Hdt. 7.152, trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 468.
3 2.99, Luraghi 2006 77, trans. N. Luraghi.—Marincola has shown (Marincola 1987) that out
of a total of 21 autopsy statements in the Histories, 15 come from Book II alone. Luraghi
2001b 151 f. also points out that it is in Book II that Herodotus’ γνώμη is the most promi-
nent and his ἀκοή statements are the most precise. Carolyn Dewald has also shown, how-
ever, that on 41 occasions Herodotus denies the truth of what he reports, see Dewald 1987
151.
4 For inquiry, informants, information, see Fowler 2006 36ff.
5 Ibid.
6 Lloyd 1975 89 ff.; 1988 5 ff.
it is possible not only that the removed observer is not Herodotus, but
rather an informant of his, but also that there is no individual observer
at all: an ethnographical “script” is not necessarily merely a “thing seen”
minus its witness, but rather a synthesis of various viewpoints, observa-
tions and intellectual operations, through which a virtual event occurring
before a virtual observer is shaped, at the discourse level, on the basis
of “historical” events and real observers.20 (…) Herodotus’ ethnographi-
cal discourse (…) alternates among the “autobiographical” stance of the
traveller, that of a narrator relating by hearsay, and that of an invisible or
“virtual” observer.21
It will be argued in Chapters 4.2–4, 7–8 and 5.1 that among the information
obtained by Herodotus from the priests of Ptah at Memphis there were pieces
about the period of the Nubian pharaohs and about certain features of their
kingship. An indication for this may also be found in the opening sentence of
Chapter 2.100 of the Histories:
[T]he priests read to me from a written record the names of three hun-
dred and thirty monarchs, in the same number generations, all of them
Egyptians except eighteen, who were Ethiopians, and one other, who was
an Egyptian woman.22
The case of his information about other Aithiopian matters is more compli-
cated. In 2.29 (here Chapter 2, Text 6) Herodotus declares, “as far as Elephan-
tine I speak as an eye-witness, but further south from hearsay”. As opposed to
the majority of his source-citations,23 here the historian does not specify the
nationality, occupation, or social milieu of the alleged informants who pro-
vided him with oral information about the region south of Elephantine. But
there may be little doubt about their identity. In the preceding as well as in the
subsequent chapters of Book II there appear only “Egyptian” informants. Con-
sequently, if he collected information about the regions south of Elephantine,
it could only be from native and/or Graeco-Egyptian informants.
could interview. Lloyd is doubtless right when suggesting that Herodotus may
well have met high-standing Egyptian priests, too,31 but I cannot agree with his
next general conclusion that one could hardly receive anything but poor qual-
ity information from Egyptian priests, be they low-standing or high-standing. In
Lloyd’s view the modern concept “of what Egyptian priests, of any grade, were
likely to know” is completely mistaken because “there is no reason to believe that
the average priest—wēb or even prophet32—would know a great deal of the past
of his people”.33 This is a radical underestimation of what the actual priests who
were reading the written king-list to Herodotus and their learned colleagues in
other great temples of the land might actually have known34—I mean of course
a knowledge of “history”35 and “past” in their terms,36 that is, in terms that are
very far from our own terms.37
In Chapter 2.100 of the Histories the scene is the library38 of the Ptah temple
at Memphis; it is its learned keepers, the priests of the House of Life,39 who are
reciting the text containing the king-list. The corpus of the literary, “historical”,
ritual, theological, scientific, etc. texts found in Egypt,40 a great part of which
had actually been held, copied, edited, excerpted in temple libraries—and
were explained to those who could not read them—gives a good idea of the
richness and topical range of a library like the House of Life in the sanctuary
of Ptah at Memphis. When imagining Herodotus’ visit at the Ptah temple and
his encounter with its learned priests, we have to bear in mind the highly
significant fact that, unlike the libraries of other great Egyptian sanctuaries,
the temple archives of Memphis survived the invasions of Piankhy (c. 735bc),
Esarhaddon (671bc), Cambyses (525bc), and Inaros (around 459 bc) without
losses.41
It would thus seem that the correct explanation for what Quellenkritik inter-
prets as weaknesses of Herodotus’ history of Egypt does not lie in the intellec-
tual quality and knowledge of the priests whom the historian had the oppor-
tunity to consult.42 It lies rather in factors such as the special tendency and
limitations of Herodotus’ own curiosity and the natural limitations of his per-
ception of what he may have been told about matters of Egyptian kingship43 or
religion.44
According to another conclusion of Lloyd (which actually contradicts his
above-quoted verdict on the knowledge of the Egyptian priests) “an authentic
image of Egyptian kingship was getting through to Herodotus”.45 This seems
far too optimistic to me (cf. Chapter 5.1). Lloyd also points out, “the divin-
ity of Pharaoh did not impress itself on Greek observers in practical contexts
and was very far from being evident”.46 John Tait’s well-meaning hypothesis,
according to which “Herodotus may have been deliberately discreet about what
he was told about Egyptian religion by the priests,”47 may indeed be argued
for on the basis of passages where Herodotus actually signals deliberate omis-
sion,48 but this cannot be generalized. There is also the problem of the constant
re-creation and re-invention of orally transmitted personal and social memo-
ries that occurs with every retelling, a topic intensely studied more recently by
cognitive scientists.49 Last but not least, the explanation for the “weaknesses”
of the Egyptian logos lies in the difficulties of storing the information that
Herodotus received. Thucydides plainly says that it was difficult for his infor-
mants as well as for himself “to remember what was said”.50
I started this chapter quoting the first sentence of Chapter 99, Book II. The
sentence introduces Herodotus’ history of Egypt from Min to Amasis. The rest
of Chapter 99 is devoted to the little what Herodotus could learn about Min.51
The history of Egypt continues in Chapter 100 with the above-quoted remark
about the priests of Ptah reciting for Herodotus the names of the three hundred
and thirty monarchs, “in the same number of generations”, ruling over Egypt
between Min and Sethos (that is, Shebitqo52). The history of Egypt is related
according to Herodotus’ tripartite chronological scheme, i.e., 1) from Min to
Moeris, 2) from Sesostris to Sethos, and 3) from the first to the last ruler of the
Twenty-Sixth Dynasty. The second part is separated from the third by a remark
similar in content to the one made in Chapter 100 about the royal names recited
from a written record. This time the scene is the great Amun temple at Thebes,
and the informants are the priests of Amun:53
[= Sethos, i.e., Shebitqo] and that there was a king and a high priest
corresponding to each generation. Now to reckon three generations as a
hundred years, three hundred generations make ten thousand years, and
the remaining forty-one generations make 1340 years more; thus one gets
a total of 11,340 years[.]54
The Egyptians who live in the cultivated parts of the country, by their
practice of keeping records of the past, have made themselves much the
most learned of any nation of which I have had experience.55
What was the priests’ source for the particular pieces of information that found
their way into the Aithiopian passages of the Histories?
About why the Nile behaves precisely as it does I could get no information
from the priests or anybody else. What I particularly wished to know
was why the water begins to rise at the summer solstice, continues to
do so for a hundred days, and then falls again at the end of that period,
so that it remains low throughout the winter until the summer solstice
comes round again in the following year. Nobody in Egypt could give
me any explanation of this, in spite of my constant attempts to find
out what was the peculiar property which made the Nile behave in the
opposite way to other rivers and why—another point on which I hoped
for information—it was the only river to cause no breezes. Certain Greeks
(…) have tried to account for the flooding of the Nile in three different
ways. Two of the explanations are not worth dwelling upon (…) The third
theory is much the most plausible, but at the same time furthest from the
truth[.]64
Herodotus made his attempts at getting information about the issue at some
place in Lower Egypt.65 His informants reinforced him in his conviction that
there is no rainfall, frost, or snow in Aithiopia. Consequently, rainfall or snow
cannot cause the inundation of the Nile (2.20–22).66 They were not aware
that, resurrecting the traditional Egyptian association of the rain with the
inundation of the “heavenly Nile”,67 some learned priests of the Saite period
brought rainfall into a connection with the inundation of the river Nile. An
inscription from Tanis68 attributes the flood to the benevolence of the goddess
Neith who saved the army of Psamtek I from destruction in this way. Long
before the Tanis inscription, however, the causal connections between divine
intervention on behalf of the ruler, the ruler’s creative power, rainfall, and
inundation were already described in a text composed by the learned priests
of Amun of Kawa in remote Nubia. One of King Taharqo’s hieroglyphic stelae
erected in the temple of Amun at Kawa69 records the “four goodly wonders”
that were the consequences of an exceptionally high Nile in the king’s sixth
regnal year, c. 685bc,70 namely, a good cultivation everywhere, the destruction
of rodents and vermin, the warding-off of locusts, and the prevention of the
south wind blighting the crops. The extraordinary inundation is brought into
connection with the rainfall as follows:
The “four goodly wonders” are embedded into the conceptual framework of
a manifestation of the king’s legitimacy. The flood and its consequences are
termed “wonder”, bjꜣjt. Wonders of this sort72 demonstrate the creative power
conferred by the gods upon the king.
2 Sesostris in Nubia
Herodotus opens Chapter 2.110 of the Histories with a remark about Sesostris as
“the only Egyptian king to rule Aithiopia” (Text 1). He proceeds then to tell about
the statues Sesostris erected to himself, his wife, and four sons73 in front of the
69 Copenhagen Æ.I.N. 1712; FHN I No. 22. Cf. also Vikentieff 1930 63.
70 It is the most completely preserved version of the account of the exceptionally high
Nile in Year 6. Three other versions were inscribed on stelae erected at Coptos, Matanah
(Vikentieff 1930), and Tanis (Leclant–Yoyotte 1949 31f.).
71 FHN I 151, trans. R.H. Pierce.
72 Cf. Grimal 1986 264ff., 506 ff.
73 Lloyd 1988a 36 f. speculates that Herodotus’ statues are actually identical with the colossi
of Rameses II erected at the south gate of the temenos of the Ptah temple. For the colossi,
among them a recarved statue of Senusret I, cf. Arnold 1992 193ff.
“fiction” and “reality” 65
temple of Hephaestus (= Ptah) at Memphis,74 and relates how the (high) priest
of Hephaestus would prevent Darius from erecting his own statue in front of
Sesostris’ statues, reminding him that “his deeds had not been as great as the
deeds of Sesostris the Egyptian”,75 whereupon Darius honourably refrains from
his intention.76
Alan Lloyd argues77 that the main features of the “Sesostris legend”78 (2.102–
110) derive from the combination of two different traditions,79 viz., the histori-
cal memory of the Egyptian conquest of Lower Nubia in the Middle Kingdom
(2055–1650bc) and the ensuing establishment of its military defence and civil
government under the Twelfth Dynasty ruler Senusret III (1870–1831bc),80 on
the one hand, and the “nationalist propaganda” unfolding in Late Period Egypt,
on the other.81 Herodotus’ Sesostris reflects indeed the traditional pharaonic
image of ideal regency. Egyptian historical memory concentrated the glories
of the Middle Kingdom in general and the Nubian conquests of the Twelfth
Dynasty in particular in the persons of Senusret I (1956–1911bc)82 and his third
successor Senusret III.83 The Sesostris appearing in Herodotus’ Egyptian logos
is their mixture, complemented by features of the great New Kingdom ruler
Rameses II.84
In reality, Sesostris’ originals, Senusret I and Senusret III, were not the only
Egyptian kings to rule parts or the whole of Nubia. After a series of shorter
74 Lloyd 1988a 36 f. For recent archaeological work at the temple, see literature in Arnold 1994
198.
75 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 136.
76 For the integration of Cambyses and Darius I into Egyptian kingship ideology, see the evi-
dence discussed in Vittmann 2011 377ff.—For the temple-building activities of Cambyses
and Darius I, see M. Cool Root: The King and Kingship in Achaemenid Art. Leiden 1979
(non vidi); Arnold 1999 92. For the positive image of Darius I as lawgiver in the Egyptian
tradition cf. Vittmann 2011 387f.—For Xerxes I as godless ruler in the Egyptian evidence:
Vittmann 2011 396 f.
77 Lloyd 1988a 36; 2007 320.
78 For the Sesostris tradition in the Histories, cf. C. Obsomer: Les campagnes de Sésostris dans
Hérodote: essai d’interprétation du texte grec à la lumière des réalités égyptiennes. Bruxelles
1989. See also Malaise 1966.
79 Kemp 1983 130ff.; Callender 2000 160 ff.
80 For the evidence, see Callender 2000 165 ff.; Török 2009 79ff.
81 Lloyd 1982a.
82 W.K. Simpson: Sesostris I. LÄ V (1984) 889–899.
83 W.K. Simpson: Sesostris III. LÄ V (1984) 903–906.
84 Cf. Sethe 1900; Malaise 1966; L. Kákosy: Sésostris et Sérapis. StudAeg 2 (1976) 185–187; Lloyd
1982a; Lloyd 1988a 37; de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 640 note 57; Assmann 2011 264f.
66 chapter 4
or longer periods of Egyptian occupation in Lower Nubia during the Old and
the Middle Kingdoms, Nubia to the Fourth Cataract came under Egyptian
domination in the fifteenth century85 and remained so to the end of the New
Kingdom in the eleventh century bc.86 Lower Nubia came under Egyptian
domination again in 593bc and remained so until the middle of the fifth
century bc, that is, to Herodotus’ own time (cf. Chapters 1.3, 4.2). Turning
Sesostris’ conquest into a unique achievement, the intention of Herodotus (or
his source) was to create a contrast to Cambyses who would disastrously fail in
his attempt to conquer Nubia (3.25–26, here Chapter 2, Text 7, cf. Chapter 4.9).
Such a use of the memory of great rulers and the glories of the past cannot
be described simply as calculated “political propaganda”.87 It is a regular fea-
ture of the cultural behaviour termed archaism,88 i.e., the revival of concepts
and expressive means from earlier periods of history in the arts, religion, lan-
guage, writing, and official titularies. The aim was the re-formulation of polit-
ical and social self-identity.89 Egyptian archaism is described conventionally
as being characterized by an indiscriminate reuse of concepts and forms from
any period of the past without creating contexts in which reference to a single
particular period or historical figure would predominate.90 As opposed to the
conventional view, however, the cultural behaviour of archaizing was a norma-
tive procedure in which the historical past was mythologized and at the same
time pragmatically included into the context of the historical present.91
Archaism was not an exclusive feature of the Late Period. It occurred in
earlier periods of Egyptian history as well. New beginnings after ruptures in
political and/or cultural continuity were supported by references to the past
85 For the process of the conquest, see Trigger 1976; B.M. Bryan: The Eighteenth Dynasty
before the Amarna Period (c. 1550–1352BC). in: Shaw (ed.) 2000 218–271 232ff.; Török 2009
157 ff.
86 There is a vast literature on the Egyptian domination in Nubia, from which I list here
seven studies of particular importance, viz., Säve-Söderbergh 1941; Trigger 1976; Kemp
1978; Zibelius-Chen 1988; M. Liverani: Prestige and Interest. Padova 1990; Smith 1995; Smith
2003.—For the Lower Nubian region, see Török 2009.
87 The term is all too anachronistic.
88 For the term cf. H. Brunner: Zum Verständnis der archaisierenden Tendenzen in der
Spätzeit. Saeculum 21 (1970) 151–162; id.: Archaismus. LÄ I (1973) 386–395; Manuelian 1994
xxxv ff.
89 See recently Assmann 2011 261 ff.
90 For a review of other earlier interpretations of the archaizing spirit, see Manuelian 1994
xxxv ff.
91 Cf. Assmann 1996 375ff. and esp. 379; A. Loprieno: La pensée et l’écriture. Pour une analyse
sémiotique de la culture égyptienne. Paris 2001 92; Assmann 2011 272ff.
“fiction” and “reality” 67
92 For the term “pharaonic renaissance”, see, e.g., F. Tiradritti (ed.): Egyptian Renaissance.
Archaism and the Sense of History in Ancient Egypt [catalogue of the exhibition in the
Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest, August 8–November 9 2008]. Budapest 2008, esp. E. Pi-
schikova: The Pharaonic Renaissance (25th and 26th Dynasties) ibid. 81–89.
93 They also included the notion of “repeating the birth” into their royal titularies, cf. Blumen-
thal 1970 438; W. Barta: Untersuchungen zur Göttlichkeit des regierenden Königs. München
1975 59; Grimal 1986 586 f.; Assmann 1992 32 f.; Kitchen 1996 §§2, 14.
94 Cf. Redford 1986 151 ff.; Assmann 1992 32 f.
95 Cf. J. van Dijk: The Amarna Period and the Later New Kingdom (c. 1352–1069BC). in: Shaw
(ed.) 2000 272–313 299 f.; Assmann 2011 264ff. See also the fascinating case of the New
Kingdom reuse of a Middle Kingdom tomb at Assiut as “eine Art Schrein des kulturellen
Gedächtnisses” (Assmann 2011 265), U. Verhoeven: Von der ‘Loyalistischen Lehre’ zur
‘Lehre des Kairsu’. ZÄS 136 (2009) 87–98.
96 I give here the regnal years of Piankhy, Shabaqo, and Shebitqo according to Kahn 2001;
cf. D. Kahn: Divided Kingdom, Co-regency or Sole Rule in the Kingdom(s) of Egypt-and-
Kush. Ägypten und Levante 16 (2006) 275–291; id.: Was There a Co-regency in the 25th
Dynasty? MittSAG 17 (2006) 135–141.
97 For the counting of his regnal years, cf. Chapter 4.4. For his reign and monuments, see
Breyer 2003.
98 In twentieth-century Egyptology, the notion of archaism was associated with the Twenty-
Sixth Dynasty. For the “discovery” of Kushite archaism, cf. B.V. Bothmer: The Signs of Age.
Bulletin of the Museum of Fine Arts 49 (1951) 69–74 (= Bothmer 2004 25–38); ESLP; Russ-
mann 1974; B.V. Bothmer: Egyptian Antecedents of Roman Republican Verism. Quaderni
de “La ricerca scientifica” 116 (1984) 47–65 (= Bothmer 2004 407–431); Török 1997a 189–
196.
68 chapter 4
the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty period and the myth of the state99 created in the time
of the Nubian pharaohs ruling over the double kingdom of Egypt and Kush.
To reinforce its legitimacy in Egypt, Piankhy’s dynasty emulated the great
pharaohs of the past by starting monumental temple construction works
throughout Egypt, first of all at Thebes and Memphis, recreating thus the
ideal relationship between the ruler and the gods and restoring the holiness
of Egypt’s ancient religious centres.100 One of the most important monuments
of Twenty-Fifth Dynasty archaism, the Memphite Theology of Creation, writ-
ten under Shabaqo,101 identifies the Nubian dynasty with Horus, vanquisher
of Seth.102 Memphis appears in it as the “primeval hill”, i.e., the original place of
creation and Egypt’s first capital founded by Horus himself.103 The Memphite
Theology of Creation declared thus that by setting about to reunify the land, the
Twenty-Fifth Dynasty was re-enacting the original creation of Egypt. For the
visual propagation of the Nubian dynasts’ creative mission, the experts turned
to the mythical depths of historical memory. They revived forms and expres-
sive means from the Old and Middle Kingdoms, the monuments of which were
omnipresent in the visual world of Memphis.104
Formulating the myth of the state and the governmental structure in the
Nubian half of their double kingdom, the rulers of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty
restored cults that had been implanted in Nubia by the Twelfth Dynasty
conquerors and later were adopted as traditional local cults by the New King-
dom conquerors. The cults of, e.g., the local Horus gods,105 of the god Ded-
wen,106 and the deified Senusret III had special features due to their origins
in, or long coexistence with, native Nubian cults.107 Their Twenty-Fifth Dynasty
revival was well aware of these features.108 The cult of Senusret III in the Nubian
kingdom of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty was built on a local cult tradition estab-
lished originally in the Second Cataract region, i.e., at the southern confines
of the Twelfth Dynasty conquest. In the frontier region, which was dominated
by a chain of seventeen formidable forts,109 Senusret III erected monumental
inscriptions presenting him as an ideal ruler,110 and temple cults of the dei-
fied Senusret III were established at several places. Four centuries later, the
New Kingdom Egyptian overlords expanding the southern frontier of Egyptian
Nubia to the Fourth Cataract region revived Senusret III’s cult in Nubia. They
established cults of the deified Middle Kingdom conqueror at Ellesiya, Qasr
Ibrim, Gebel Agg, Buhen, Uronarti, Semna, Kumma, and Gebel Dosha.111 With
the Egyptian withdrawal in the eleventh century bc the Nubian cult of Senus-
ret III did not come to an end at all of these places: it survived at Semna West
in the Thutmoside temple dedicated to Dedwen and the deified Senusret III.112
105 The local cults of the “Horus gods of Tꜣ-sty (Nubia)” emerged in the course of the Middle
Kingdom occupation. From the early Eighteenth Dynasty onwards we meet the cults of
Horus “Lord of Bꜣkj (Kuban)”, Horus “Lord of M ıʾꜥm (Aniba)”, Horus “Lord of Bhn (Buhen)”,
and, somewhat later, Horus “Lord of M-ḥꜣ (Abu Simbel)”, cf. Säve-Söderbergh 1941 201f.
106 Dedwen appears as “Lord of Tꜣ-sty (Nubia)” ever since the Pyramid Texts and it is supposed
that the Nubian Horus gods derived from him, cf. Säve-Söderbergh 1941 201.
107 For a detailed survey of the evidence, see Török 2009 211ff.; for the cult of the deified
Senusret III cf. also K. El-Enany: Le “dieu” nubien Sésostris III. BIFAO 104 (2004) 207–213.
108 For example, in the abacus text program of the court of Piankhy’s Amun temple at Napata
(Dunham 1970 fig. 40; Török 2002 59 ff.) it was the invocation of the deified Senusret III
and Dedwen that symbolized the integration of Lower Nubia into the sacred geography of
Piankhy’s double, Nubian and Egyptian, kingdom.
109 For the forts, cf. B.B. Williams: Nubian Forts. in: Bard (ed.) 1999 574–579.
110 Cf. C.J. Eyre: The Semna Stelae: Quotation, Genre, and Functions of Literature. in: S. Isra-
elit-Groll (ed.): Studies in Egyptology Presented to Miriam Lichtheim. Jerusalem 1990 136–
165.
111 For the evidence, see Török 2009 211 ff.
112 For the temple building, see Dunham–Janssen 1960 12 f., 32ff.; P. Wolf: Die archäologischen
Quellen der Taharqozeit im nubischen Niltal. Unpubl. PhD dissertation, Berlin 1990 31ff.,
112 ff. The temple was dismantled and is now rebuilt in Khartoum in the garden of the
Sudan National Museum.—For a dating of the inscription and the relief of Queen Kadi-
malo to the post-New Kingdom/pre-Twenty-Fifth Dynasty period and their interpretation,
70 chapter 4
see FHN I No. 1; Darnell 2006; for the discussion about Darnell’s interpretation: Török 2008;
Török 2009 284–318; and see the review of Darnell’s book by K. Zibelius-Chen, BiOr 64
(2007) 377–387.
113 Darnell 2006 does not discuss the iconography of the relief.
114 PM VII 149.
115 Senusret III is referred to in the inscription with his Throne name ḫꜥ-kꜣw-Rꜥ, see Dunham–
Janssen 1960 12, 33, Pls 36–38.
116 FHN I No. (3).
117 FHN I No. (5), cf. von Beckerath 1984 64.
118 kꜣ: “life force”, “spirit”, “soul”, cf. J. Assmann: Tod und Jenseits im Alten Ägypten. München
2001 116 ff.
119 FHN I No. (35); Valbelle 2012 22 ff.
120 FHN I No. (55).
121 Cf. Török 2002 339 f. Table A.
122 Macadam 1955 99, Pls XVII/b, XXIII/a, XXVII/a, LX/a; Török 2002 89ff., 113ff., 118ff.
“fiction” and “reality” 71
of Ptah of Memphis as Taharqo’s father, i.e., one of the sources of his rulership
and divine nature, in the Kawa program points toward the intellectual milieu
in which the Memphite Theology of Creation was conceived. It is in this latter
discourse on the creation of the world that we read about the identity of Ptah
with Nun, the god of primeval water.123 The influence of the Memphite cult
of Ptah on the concept of the legitimacy of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty kings as
rulers of Kush is obvious.124
In the background of Herodotus’ mention of Sesostris as “the only Egyptian
king to rule Aithiopia,” one may thus discern a tradition that combined the
Kushite dynasty’s attitude towards the great rulers of the past with the revival
of the New Kingdom cult of the Twelfth Dynasty conqueror as a Nubian “local
god”. More about Herodotus’ Twenty-Fifth Dynasty will be said in Chapter 4.4.
123 The Memphite Theology of Creation, lines 50 f. Cf. R. Grieshammer: Nun. LÄ IV (1981)
534–535.
124 For the Nubian evidence, see Török 2002 89 ff.
125 No guess can be made concerning the origins and character of these materials. For Egyp-
tian king-lists, see Redford 1986 1–64. See also Assmann 1990b 10ff. For the factors motivat-
ing historical memory cf. also D. Wildung: Die Rolle ägyptischer Könige im Bewusstsein ihrer
Nachwelt I. Berlin 1969; L. Kákosy: Urzeitmythen und Historiographie im alten Ägypten.
in: Selected Papers (1956–73). (StudAeg 8). Budapest 1981 93–104.
126 For the Egyptian royal titulary, cf. Blumenthal 1970; Grimal 1986; von Beckerath 1984
1–40; P. Kaplony: Königstitulatur. LÄ III (1979) 641–659; M.-A. Bonhême: Les noms royaux
dans l’Égypte de la troisième période intermédiaire. Le Caire 1987; Baines 1995b 125–128;
72 chapter 4
Egypt, the Kushite titulary presented a general statement on the most impor-
tant concepts connected to the institution of kingship, and at the same time
hinted at the religious policy and political goals to be realized by the ruler.127 It
consisted 1) of the Horus name referring to the king as incarnation of Horus; 2)
the Nebty- or Two Ladies name referring originally to the tutelary goddesses of
the two parts of Egypt, in Kush to territorial kingship; 3) the Ḥr-nb or Golden
Horus name (originally referring probably to the radiant sunlit sky, its special
significance in Kush is obscure); 4) the nswt-bıʾty or Throne name; and finally
5) the sꜣ-Rꜥ or private/birth name presenting the ruler as son of the sun-god Re.
In Egypt the royal titulary was composed by expert lector-priests;128 in Kush by
prophets of Amun129 affiliated with the great Amun temple at Napata.130 Many
of the Kushite titularies included Egyptian titles selected from a large corpus of
models ranging in time from the Old Kingdom to contemporary titularies.
According to the Stela of King Nastasene from Year 8131 (fourth century bc),
the creation of the titulary was the very first act of the enthronement rites. It
was performed before the king would be initiated into his royal office during
the course of a royal oracle:
I reached the Great House. They [made obeisance] to me, (to wit) all the
notables and priests of Amun. They blessed me, (to wit) every mouth. I
had (everyone) go up and opened the great portals. They made for me
[…] to make my titulary […], making ʾIpt-swt and the House of Gold132
great.133
R. Gundlach: Der Pharao und sein Staat. Die Grundlegung der ägyptischen Königsideologie
im 4. und 3. Jahrtausend. Darmstadt 1998 17–23, etc.
127 For the Kushite royal titularies, see D. Dunham–M.F.L. Macadam: Names and Relation-
ships of the Royal Family of Napata. JEA 35 (1949) 139–149; FHN I–III passim. For the
titularies and their models, see Török 1997a 200–206; for the models of the names, see
in greater detail FHN I–III passim.
128 Cf. the Udjahorresnet Inscription, Vatican Museum 158 (113), Lichtheim 1980 36ff.
129 In the Stela of King Nastasene from Year 8 (see next note): ḥm-nṯr.
130 Stela of King Nastasene from Year 8, Berlin 2268, Urk. III.2 137–152; FHN II No. 84, lines 13–
15.
131 See the previous notes.
132 ʾIpt-swt (= Karnak) and Pr-nbw, “the House of Gold”: names of the great Amun temple at
Napata.
133 FHN II 478, trans. R.H. Pierce.
“fiction” and “reality” 73
4 Sabacos in Egypt
In the history of Egypt to the reign of Amasis (2.99–182) there are two pas-
sages, namely, 2.137+139 (here Chapter 2, Text 2) and 2.152 (here Chapter 2,
Text 3) dealing with the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty. Chapters 2.137+ 139 relate that
the rule of King Anysis “from the city of Anysis”138—a blind man, direct suc-
cessor to King Asychis—ended with an invasion of the Aithiopians led by their
king Sabacos/Sabacon (Σαβακῶν). To escape from Sabacos’ army, Anysis fled
“into the marshes” (ἐς τὰ ἓλεα) where he lived on the island of Elbo (2.140). As
promised him by an oracle that he received in Aithiopia before he had launched
his Egyptian campaign, Sabacos reigned for fifty years over Egypt. Fulfilling
the time foretold for his rule, he had a dream in which he received a bewil-
dering counsel (for the dream, see further below). Sabacos did not follow it,
for he believed that the gods sent the dream “to provoke him to sacrilege and
involve him in some disaster at the hands of either gods or men”. He with-
drew instead voluntarily to Aithiopia. “After the departure of the Aithiopian”,
adds Herodotus, “the blind Anysis returned from the marsh-country (…) and
resumed the government of Egypt”.139
Herodotus returns to the history of Sabacos’ regency in a brief digression in
Chapter 152 of Book II (here Chapter 2, Text 3). The framing narrative (2.151–153)
relates the dramatic vagaries140 in the rise of Psammetichus, i.e., Psamtek I of
the Twenty-Sixth Dynasty (664–610bc).141 The actual topic of Chapter 152 is the
second of Psammetichus’ exiles, but the historian also recalls there his first exile
to Assyria,142 where he “had (…) fled the Aithiopian Sabacos, who had killed
his father Necos,” and tells about the end of the exile “when the Aithiopian
withdrew as a result of the dream he had had [and] the Egyptians from the
nome of Sais” called him back to Egypt.
Kitchen143 and Lloyd144 suggest that King Asychis (2.136), while standing for
the entire Twenty-Second Dynasty,145 is actually identical with Sheshonq I146
(945–924bc). Dan’el Kahn does not exclude the possibility that he is identi-
cal with Sheshonq V (767–730bc).147 His successor Anysis was equated rather
improbably148 with Osorkon IV (730–715bc) of the Twenty-Third Dynasty149 or
with Bakenranef/Bocchoris (720–715bc), the only ruler of the Twenty-Fourth
Dynasty.150 It was also suggested that Anysis stands for the entire Twenty-Third
Dynasty. It is worth noting here that blindness was considered a divine punish-
ment in pharaonic Egypt.151 E.g., in 2.111 Herodotus’ King Pheros (from Egyptian
pr-ꜥꜣ, “pharaoh”)152 is blind for ten years as a punishment for his godless rage
against an excessive Nile flood.153
sources,165 which they identify with Shabaqo. Students of the period also argue
that parts of Middle and Lower Egypt that were controlled by Piankhy from
his Year 21 onwards had been lost after Piankhy withdrew to Nubia. Indeed,
Memphis came under the control of the local rulers of Sais, Tefnakht, and his
successor Bakenranef/Bocchoris. It is assumed166 that, in the course of a “re-
conquest” of Lower Egypt, Shabaqo eliminated Bakenranef/Bocchoris167 and
perhaps other dissenting local rulers in his second regnal year.168 Accordingly,
Herodotus’ Sabacos would have conquered Egypt in c. 720 bc.
To praise Sabacos’ judiciousness, Herodotus (or his source) makes him fol-
low Sesostris’ juridical practice of compelling the criminal offender, instead
of death penalty, “to heap up dykes in front of his home city.” According to
Herodotus, “in this way the level of the cities rose even higher”. While present-
ing thus an aetiological explanation of the genesis of tell169 settlements, the
passage places Sabacos beside the great pharaohs of the past who were vener-
ated as builders of dykes and diggers of canals (for Sesostris, see 2.108).170 He is
their equal also as a lawgiver.171
In the dream172 that Sabacos sees at the end of his fifty-year rule in Egypt,
he is advised by a man who “stood by his bed” to “assemble all the priests
in Egypt and cut them in half”, obviously to prolong his regency.173 Dreams
were interpreted in Egypt as a basic means by which the gods communicated
with men. Oracular dreams could also be elicited in the course of a temple
incubatio.174 Nubian royal inscriptions written in hieroglyphic Egyptian and
dating from the period between the seventh and fourth centuries bc amply
attest that oracles, also including dream oracles, played a central role in the
Kushite royal investiture175 (cf. Chapters 4.7, 9, 5.1). As an initial episode of
the investiture, the divine acceptance of the heir apparent could be declared
by a dream or even a series of dreams. The legitimacy of Tanwetamani176
(the last ruler of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty) and King Harsiyotef177 (of the
fourth century bc) was similarly declared by dreams that demanded expert
interpretation. In the late fourth century bc King Nastasene received several
legitimating dream oracles.178
Tanwetamani’s Dream Stela recounts the procedure as follows:
on each side of the road, for the army to march out between them”.182 Though
for the ritual significance of cutting a man or an animal in half Hofmann and
Vorbichler183 present geographically as well as chronologically varied evidence
that ranges from Greek mythology to modern beliefs, there may be no doubt
that in 2.139 as well as in 7.39 Herodotus actually means a Persian purification
(lustratio) ritual.184 Consequently, Sabacos’ refusal to follow the counsel con-
veys an anti-Persian moral judgment.185
We have to return for a moment to Sabacos’ identity and the dating of his
arrival in Egypt. Dan’el Kahn suggests in his above-quoted study186 that the his-
torical interpretation of 2.137+139 hinges on the statement according to which
the Aithiopian conqueror left Egypt of his own accord. Kahn argues that the
only Nubian ruler of Egypt meeting this criterion is Piankhy, who withdrew
to his southern capital after his great Egyptian campaign. In contrast to him,
Shabaqo and Shebitqo ruled until their death from the Egyptian capital, Mem-
phis. In turn, Taharqo fled the Assyrians twice and was unable to return to
Egypt after his second flight. His successor Tanwetamani was expelled twice
by the Assyrians and died in Nubia years after his second flight. Suggesting that
2.137–140 “preserves one historical consecutive narrative with known historical
figures and not a symbolic composition of all or some Delta dynasts (…) versus
all or some Kushite rulers”,187 Kahn concludes that the narrative’s chief protag-
onists are Piankhy and his adversary, the Lower Egyptian local ruler Tefnakht
(cf. Chapter 1.3). Kahn quotes lines 129–130 of Piankhy’s Great Triumphal Stela
(ibid.) where it is related that taking flight from Piankhy Tefnakht hid “in the
heart, he was delighted, and said with a laugh to the boy’s father: ‘There’s proof for you,
Prexaspes, that I am sane and the Persians mad. Now tell me if you ever saw anyone else
shoot so straight’”. Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 185. This is an act of madness,
however, which has nothing to do with the motif of lustratio.
182 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 431. For the Pythius story, see Baragwanath 2008
269 ff. Curiously, Baragwanath does not consider the possibility that the act of cutting the
body of Pythius’ son in half and the army marching out between the two halves of the body
may have any other significance than narratological.
183 Hofmann–Vorbichler 1979 81 ff.
184 Cf. J.A.S. Evans: The Story of Pythios. LCM 13 (1988) 139; A. Keaveney: Persian Behaviour and
Misbehaviour: Some Herodotean Examples. Athenaeum 74 (1996) 23–48; Harrison 2002
576. For ancient Near Eastern lustratio rituals, see also O. Masson: A propos d’un rituel
hittite pour la lustration d’ une armée. RHR 137 (1950) 5–25.
185 For human sacrifice in Herodotus, cf. How–Wells 1912 ad 3.11; Baragwanath 2008 111f.
186 Kahn 2003.
187 Kahn 2003 54.
“fiction” and “reality” 79
islands of the sea” (ıʾww wꜣḏ wr) where wꜣḏ wr would refer to some western Delta
marshes188 and not the Mediterranean.189
For Sabacos’ identification with Piankhy would thus speak the obvious
resemblance of Anysis’ career to Tefnakht’s fate. The possibility, however, that
the story combines episodes from and aspects of the reigns of several Twenty-
Fifth Dynasty rulers, including Piankhy, cannot be easily discarded. A good
argument for the identification of Herodotus’ Sabacos with the entire dynasty
may be found in 2.152 (here Chapter 2, Text 3) where it is reported that Saba-
cos killed Psammetichus’ father, Necos. The death of the original Necos, i.e.,
Nekau I, father of Psamtek I, Assyrian vassal ruling in Sais and Memphis
between 672–664bc,190 occurred in the course of Tanwetamani’s Lower Egyp-
tian campaign in the year 664bc (see Chapter 1.3 above), that is, more than
forty years after Shabaqo’s death.
Herodotus’ information about Sabacos’ personality and reign derives from a
combination of the traditional Egyptian image of ideal regency with the image
of the ideal Kushite ruler as it took shape in the period of the Twenty-Fifth
Dynasty rather than from annalistic data concerning Shabaqo’s reign. Like-
wise, the motif (and not the contents) of Sabacos’ dream derives from priestly
information that reflects Nubian rather than kindred Egyptian oracular tradi-
tions. The association of the dream oracle with the legitimation of Sabacos’
royal office speaks for the knowledge of specific information about the role that
oracles played in the investiture of the Kushite ruler (see also Chapters 4.7, 9,
5.1).
Let us return for a moment to Herodotus’ Psammetichus, the historical
Psamtek I. In 2.152 the circumstances under which his second exile ended are
rendered in an apologetic manner. In reality, Psamtek I was put on his throne
by the Assyrians as a vassal ruler.191 The combination of the history of the Egyp-
tian reign of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty with the history of the Saite dynasty
188 Kahn 2003 57 refers to E. Feucht: Fisch und Vogelfang im wꜣḏ-wr des Jenseits. in: Shirun-
Grumach (ed.) 1997 37–44 38.—Lloyd 1988a 99 suggests that the island of Anysis “which
he had built up of earth and ashes” (trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 152) derives from
a myth of the death and resurrection of the “king-demiurge”, a myth that “had long since
faded into a folk-tale”. According to Kahn 2003 58 the name Elbo consists of the Egyptian
words ıʾw, “island”, and lbw/rbw, Libyan.
189 wꜣḏ wr, “Great Green”, “sea”, may equally refer to the Mediterranean, the Red Sea, or the
Lake Moeris, cf. R. Hannig–P. Vomberg: Wortschatz der Pharaonen in Sachgruppen. Mainz
1999 292.
190 Kitchen 1996 §§ 117, 138, 256.
191 Cf. Kitchen 1996 §§ 360 ff.
80 chapter 4
5 Psamtek II in Nubia
[s]o far the Egyptians themselves have been my authority, but in what
follows I shall relate what other people, too, are willing to accept in the
history of this country, with a few points added from my own observation
(ὄψις).192
Chapters 2.160–161 relate two episodes from the reign of Psammis, i.e., Psam-
tek II (595–589bc). In the first, longer, episode (2.160) an Elean delegation
receives advice from the Egyptians on how to organize fairly the Olympic
games.193 In the brief single-sentence second episode (2.161, here Chapter 2,
Text 4) Psamtek II sends a military expedition to Nubia. Unlike the first, the
second episode contains authentic information194 about the campaign that
resulted in the Saite occupation of Lower Nubia (cf. Chapter 1.3).
Immediately after the fall of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty, the relations between
Egypt and Kush were structured in the interest of the international trade that
was greatly encouraged by Psamtek I195 and his successor, Nekau II (610–
595bc). The latter sent a riverine expedition from Elephantine against the
nomadic Trog[l]odytes, inhabitants of the desert between the Lower Nubian
Nile and the Red Sea, which indicates efforts aimed at the control of the com-
mercial road along the Middle Nile (cf. Chapter 4.11).196 We have no information
about the actual items of the Nubian export to Egypt. It may be hypothesized
that besides Nubian gold it included exotic wares from the interior of Africa.
The high quality of the imports and/or diplomatic gifts arriving from Egypt in
the Kingdom of Kush can be assessed on the basis of metal,197 calcite,198 and
faience199 vessels and faience amulets200 recovered from royal and elite tombs
at Nuri and Begarawiya West and Begarawiya South at the city of Meroe.
During the revolt of Inaros between c. 463/2 and 449 bc,201 i.e., more or less
in Herodotus’ own time,202 Lower Nubia returned under Kushite supremacy
from the Egyptian rule that had been established there by Psamtek II and
maintained by Cambyses, Darius I and Xerxes. Herodotus, however, although
he visited Egypt shortly after Inaros’ rebellion (cf. Chapters 1.3, 4.2), was not
aware of the change in the status of Lower Nubia. His remark that Psammis died
soon after the expedition is similarly erroneous. Lloyd203 makes the important
observation that a similar error occurs in the Demotic Papyrus Rylands IX
dating from 513bc, where it is said that Psamtek II died immediately after
his 592bc Asiatic campaign.204 Consequently, Herodotus’ dating of Psammis’
death seems to derive from an Egyptian, not a Greek source.
Into his account of the customs of the Egyptians (2.35–98) Herodotus inserts
a digression (2.42, here Chapter 2, Text 5) about the relations between the
Egyptians, the Aithiopians, and the Ammonians. The latter are the inhabitants
of the Siwa Oasis. Chapter 2, Text 5 presents the more informative section of
the digression. The less informative part of the digression will also be briefly
touched upon in the following.
According to Herodotus, the Ammonians are colonists of Egyptians and
Aithiopians and their language “lies between those of the two peoples”. Hero-
dotus associates the oracle of Ammon of Siwa with both this mixed population
and the Theban Amun oracle. In 2.42 the historian relates that the Thebans
hold rams sacred and do not sacrifice them. Nevertheless, once a year at the fes-
tival of Zeus, i.e., Amun, they cut a single ram into pieces, flay it, put its fleece on
the image of the god and then bring an image of Heracles (i.e., probably Khonsu,
son of Amun-Re205) near to it. They conclude the festival burying the remnants
of the sacrificed ram in a sacred coffer (ἐν ἱρῇ θήκῃ; de Sélincourt and Marin-
cola translate “bury the carcase in a sacred sepulchre”206). In Lloyd’s view,207
besides recording an existing ritual performed at the Theban Opet festival,208
Herodotus presents here an aetiological explanation for the ritual of sacrificing
a ram and putting its fleece on the god’s cult statue in order to endow it with
the power of the sacred animal. The historian adds, “This is the reason why the
Egyptians make Zeus’ image with a ram’s head”. He also repeats in 4.181 that the
temple of the Ammonians “derived from that of the Theban Zeus (…) [where-
fore] the image of Zeus in both temples has a ram’s face”.209
Until the Twenty-Sixth Dynasty, Siwa was under the rule of an independent
Libyan tribal chief, but Egyptian priests imported the cult of Amun of Thebes
to the oasis probably as early as the New Kingdom. The famous Ammoneion of
Aghurmi, i.e., the temple of Zeus Ammon of Siwa, was built by King Ahmose II
(Amasis) (570–526bc) of the Twenty-Sixth Dynasty. Architectural features of
205 J.G. Griffiths: The Orders of Gods in Greece and Egypt (According to Herodotus). JHS 75
(1955) 21–23.
206 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 113.
207 Lloyd 1976 192ff.; 2007 268.
208 For a reconstruction of the Opet festival as celebrated from the time of Rameses II
onwards, see L. Bell: The New Kingdom “Divine” Temple: The Example of Luxor. in: Shafer
(ed.) 1997 127–184, 281–302 162 ff.
209 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 303.
“fiction” and “reality” 83
210 Cf. PM VII 313; Kuhlmann 1988; Arnold 1999 90; K.-P. Kuhlmann: Siwa Oasis, Late Period
and Graeco-Roman Sites. in: Bard (ed.) 1999 738–744; S. Schmidt: Ammon. in: Beck–
Bol–Bückling (eds) 2005 187–194; K.-C. Bruhn: “Kein Tempel der Pracht”. Architektur und
Geschichte des Tempels aus der Zeit Amasis auf Agurmi, Oase Siwa. Wiesbaden 2010.
211 Kuhlmann 1988 123ff.
212 For the presumed origins of the ram form of the Egyptian Amun in native Nubian ram
cults of the C-Group and Kerma cultures, see G. Maspero: Histoire ancienne des peuples de
l’ orient classique II. Paris 1899 169; D. Wildung: Der widdergestaltige Amun–Ikonographie
eines Götterbildes. Unpubl. paper submitted at the International Congress of Orientalists,
Paris 1973; cf. id.: Sesostris und Amenemhet. Ägypten im Mittleren Reich. München 1984
182; P. Behrens: Widder. LÄ VI (1986) 1243–1245; C. Bonnet: Kerma. Territoire et métropole.
Paris 1986 45 f.; C. Bonnet (ed.): Kerma, royaume de Nubie. Genève 1990 90f.; Pamminger
1992. See also E. Kormysheva: On the Origin and Evolution of the Amun Cult in Nubia. in:
Kendall (ed.) 2004 109–133.
213 Though the term “Nubian ram gods” is used with great confidence in the literature, in fact,
we know next to nothing about them. It remains unknown whether the pre-New Kingdom
ram gods presumably worshiped at Kawa and Napata were independent of each other or
were rather local forms of a more “universal” deity. Cf. Hornung 1971 219ff.
214 Lloyd 1976 196.
215 Leclant–Yoyotte 1952 28 note 6; Lloyd 2007 268. I cannot share Lloyd’s view that “the ethnic
mix would inevitably create a heterogeneous linguistic environment” (ibid.).
84 chapter 4
along the Nile and towards the Red Sea [live] the Megabaroi and the
Blemmyes, who are subject to the Aithiopians but are neighbours of the
Egyptians[.]223
The Blemmyans were indeed “visible” both from Lower Nubia and Upper Egypt.
They were viewed with little sympathy and understanding.224
Lloyd argues that Herodotus’ itinerary consisting of four days’ boat voyage
from Elephantine to Takompso, plus a journey of forty days by land along the
Nile, plus another twelve days’ boat journey to the city of Meroe is realistic.225
It is to be noted, however, that it is not identical with the traditional short
itinerary consisting of a boat voyage to Korosko whence the journey continued
along the desert road to a point at modern Abu Hamed, a site situated between
the Fourth and Fifth Cataracts. From there, the city of Meroe could be reached
by boat in the period of high Nile.
In Chapter 29 of Book II Herodotus presents a brief description of the
“great city with the name of Meroe”. This is the earliest mention of the city
of Meroe in a classical source. The earliest occurrence of Bꜣ-r-wꜣ, Meroe, in a
Kushite text written in hieroglyphic Egyptian is in one of the inscriptions of
King Irike-Amannote dating from the late fifth century bc.226 By Herodotus’
time, however, Meroe had functioned as a royal residence already for several
1909 I–II Pl. XXVII, III 225; FHN I No. 50. For the history of the Blemmyans, see Updegraff
1978; 1988; L. Török: A Contribution to Post-Meroitic Chronology: The Blemmyes in Lower
Nubia. (Meroitic Newsletter 24). Paris 1985; id.: Additional Remarks to Updegraff 1988. in:
ANRW II.10.1 (1988) 97–106.
223 Eratosthenes in Strabo 17.1.2, FHN II No. 109, trans. T. Hägg.
224 The glimpse presented of them in a passage of the Papyrus Dodgson (second century bc,
C.J. Martin: The Child Born in Elephantine: Papyrus Dodgson Revisited. Acta Demotica.
Acts of the Fifth International Conference for Demotists 1993. EVO 17 [1994] 199–212) is far
from characteristic of the interethnical contacts in the region. The passage records a
trial against persons disturbing the peace on the island of Philae. A certain Petra son of
Pshenpoêr was found guilty by an oracle for having desecrated offering wine dedicated to
Osiris in a drinking party, in which Blemmyans had also participated. The case indicates a
rather intimate relationship between Blemmyans and Egyptians, who could get access to
Osiris’ wine. It would be mistaken, however, to extend the amicable closeness prevailing
in the anecdotical episode to the whole of the coexistence of Egyptians, Aithiopians
and Blemmyes (cf. E. Bresciani: Il papiro Dodgson e il hp (n) wpj.t. EVO 11 [1988] 55–70;
Updegraff 1988 60).
225 Lloyd 2007 260.
226 Kawa, Temple T, Inscription of Irike-Amanote from Years 1–2 col. 5, FHN II No. 71; Török 2009
367 ff.
86 chapter 4
centuries (cf. Chapter 1.1). Its history goes back to pre-Twenty-Fifth Dynasty
times.227 There are calibrated carbon dates between 900–750bc from mudbrick
buildings discovered recently under the Meroitic-period palace M 750.228
The historian relates next that “the people there [i.e., in the city of Meroe]
worship Zeus (= Amun) and Dionysus (= Osiris) alone of the gods” and that
“they also have an oracle of Zeus”. He also adds, the Aithiopians “go to war
whenever this god (Zeus) bids them through oracles, and wherever he bids
them”. The exclusive reference to the worship of Zeus (= Amun) and Dionysus
(= Osiris), who are the “most obvious” gods of post-New Kingdom Egypt, is
characteristic for the scantiness of the “realistic” information Herodotus could
obtain about the city of Meroe. Students of Herodotus make nevertheless
attempts to interpret it as a sophisticated allusion to the hierarchy of the gods in
Nubian religion, maintaining, “Amun (Zeus) was the major god in Nubia from
the New Kingdom”.229 Indeed, an Amun temple was standing in the centre
of the town already by the reign of Taharqo.230 So far, there is no textual or
archaeological evidence for an Osiris temple. But a fair number of shrines of
other deities have been excavated at the city of Meroe.231
Sabacos’ reaction to his oracular dream in 2.137+ 139 (here Chapter 2, Text
2, cf. Chapter 4.4) presents a paradigm of the pharaoh’s traditional attitude
towards oracles, reproducing thus an important feature of the god-fearing ideal
ruler’s portrait. In difficult periods of Egyptian history, portraits of this type
would occur again and again. Suffice it to mention here the pharaoh of the
Demotic Inaros (Petubastis) cycle232 who is characterized as “a lover of peace
227 For the publication of John Garstang’s 1909–1914 excavations at Meroe City, see Török
1997b. See also K.A. Grzymski: Meroe Reports I. The Meroe Expedition. (SSEA Publications
XVII). Mississauga 2003. For a discussion of more recent fieldwork at the site, see M. Baud:
Les trois Méroé: la ville, la région, l’ empire. in: Baud–Sackho-Autissier–Labbé-Toutée
(eds) 2010 52–66; Török 2011a 113–188.
228 See K. Grzymski: La fondation de Méroé-Ville: nouvelles données. in: Baud–Sackho-
Autissier–Labbé-Toutée 2010 65–66. Cf. Török 1997b 1, 104.
229 Lloyd 2007 260, referring to Shinnie 1967 141.
230 Török 1997b 25 ff., 116 ff.
231 Török 1997b passim, P.L. Shinnie–J.R. Anderson (eds): The Capital of Kush 2. Meroe Excava-
tions 1973–1984 (Meroitica 20). Wiesbaden 2004; P. Wolf: Temples in the Meroitic South—
Some Aspects of Typology, Cult and Function. in: Caneva–Roccati (eds) 2006 239–262,
etc.
232 Cf. W. Helck: Petubastis-Erzählung. LÄ IV (1982) 998–999; F. Hoffmann: Der Kampf um
den Panzer des Inaros: Studien zum Papyrus Krall und seiner Stellung innerhalb des Inaros-
Petubastis-Zyklus. Wien 1996.
“fiction” and “reality” 87
whose actions are governed by the oracle of Amun”.233 Oracles play a significant
role throughout the Histories,234 so also in the Egyptian logos.235 Herodotus’
reference to the Amun oracle in Meroe, however, is not a simple repetition or
variant of what he says elsewhere about Egyptian or other oracles.236 While
there is no realistic information behind the reduction of Meroe’s sacred land-
scape to the cults of Zeus and Dionysus, the remark about the oracle of Zeus is
more substantial. A superficial comparison of Egyptian Third Intermediate and
Late Period oracular traditions and practices with Kushite oracular traditions
and practices of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty and Napatan periods would hardly
discover any significant difference. A more careful analysis of the inscriptions
of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty and Napatan-period kings results, however, in a
more complex picture of the special role that oracles of the Amun gods (also
including the Amun worshiped at the city of Meroe) were playing in the legit-
imation and investiture of the king of Kush as well as in royal decisions and
jurisdiction.237
Three types of oracles are recorded in Kushite royal documents, viz., 1) dream
oracle, 2) oracular election of the king and proclamation of his legitimacy by
the god’s processional cult image, 3) Königsorakel received by the king in the
intimacy of the god’s inner sanctuary.238 Two inscriptions erected by Taharqo in
the Amun temple at Kawa in the 680s bc239 present a dynastic legend relating
that the power of Taharqo’s ancestor Alara, the first Kushite ruler known by
name, was based on a covenant between Alara and Amun.240 The narrative
context in which the covenant appears suggests that it was also the ultimate
source of the legitimacy and power of Taharqo and his dynasty. Amun’s epithets
occurring in the two Kawa inscriptions indicate the legend’s conceptual setting
placed the king’s brothers before this god, (but) he did not take one of
them. Placing a second time the king’s brother, the son of Amun, the child
of Mut, Lady of Heaven, the Son of Re: Aspelta, may he live for ever. Then
this god, Amun-Re, Lord of the Thrones of Two-lands, said: “It is he that is
the king, your lord”.246
The oracular “election” of Aspelta recalls the scene in which Amun of Karnak is
selecting out the future Thutmose III from the midst of his entourage.247 After
the public proclamation of his legitimacy, Aspelta is conducted into the inner
sanctuary where the god receives him without attendants. The earliest occur-
rence of such a Königsorakel rite is in Piankhy’s Great Triumphal Stela (cf. Chap-
ters 1.3, 4.4) in the account of the king’s mystic encounter with Re of Heliopo-
lis. It represents the culmination of his accession to the throne of Egypt.248
Thirty-fifth regnal year, first month of Winter, 5th day (…) I sent to him,
Amun of Napata, my good father, saying: “Shall I send my army against
the desert land Mekhty?” He sent to me, Amun of Napata, saying, “Let it
be sent!”252
It is to be added that, in proportion to their actual power, the kings tried to exert
strict control over the Amun oracles, as it is demonstrated by the account of the
terrible punishment for a priestly plot that was directed under Aspelta’s reign
at the manipulation of the oracle of Amun.253
Returning to the geographical description of Aithiopia, the reader of the
Histories misses here information about the regions lying beyond the city of
Meroe. The actual geographical account consists eventually of one single sen-
tence: “from this city [Meroe] you will arrive at the Deserters as long as it
took to get from Elephantine to the capital of the Aithiopians”.254 This sen-
tence is followed by a long digression (Chapter 30 of Book II) presenting an
account of the settlement in Aithiopia of the Egyptian “Deserters,” also called
Automoloi (αὐτομόλοι) or Asmach (ἀσμάχ). According to Herodotus, they were
the descendants of the 240,000 men who deserted from the garrison of Ele-
phantine under Psammetichus (the historical Psamtek I) and were settled at
a distance of 56 travel days from the city of Meroe in the southern part of
Aithiopia. While the number 240,000 seems to be in the style of Herodotus’
invented quantities,255 the mention of garrisons and military posts established
in Egypt by Psamtek I and still existing in Herodotus’ own time, namely, “in
the city of Elephantine on the Aithiopian frontier, and in Pelousian Daphnai
(…) on the Arab and the Assyrian frontier, and in Marea on the Libyan fron-
tier”, is realistic.256 Henri de Meulenaere suggests that the king in the story is
identical with Tanwetamani rather than Psamtek I, and the episode is a para-
phrase of the withdrawal of Tanwetamani’s forces from Upper Egypt after his
final defeat by the Assyrians257 in 663bc.258 Lloyd259 interprets the story as the
account of a historical mutiny of the machimoi,260 the Egyptian warrior class of
Libyan origin (cf. 2.141, 164–168).261 According to Meulenaere262 and Lloyd,263
the name “Asmach” derives from Egyptian smḥy, “left”. Such a derivation is sup-
ported by the word’s military connotation as explained by Herodotus: Asmach
“translated into the Greek language means ‘they who stand at the king’s left
hand’”.264
Herodotus concludes in 2.31 that the Nile is known “for the distance of four
months of travel by boat and on land, not counting its course in Egypt”. The land
of the Deserters constitutes the most remote point about which the historian
could collect information. From that point on no one knows the course of the
Nile, “for there the land is a desert by reason of the intense heat”. Accordingly,
the Aithiopia south of Egypt ends at the fringes of the earth. There is nothing
beyond it but the “true desert”, which, so says Herodotus, surrounds the inhab-
ited world.274
Herodotus’ “other Aithiopia” displays several features of the Aithiopia of
Greek literary tradition. The Aithiopians, i.e., the black people (αἴθιοψ, “face
burned”) of the Homeric poems are divided into two groups living near to the
rising and to the setting of the sun, respectively. They are “the most distant of
men” (ἔσχατοι ἀνδρῶν275). Their land is located “at the boundaries of earth”.276
Ionian geography located them more precisely in Africa and India, in the region
extending from Nubia to the Atlantic coast (Hdt. 7.69–70).277
Homeric Greece had no eyewitness information about the regions south of
the First Cataract, though it was not very long ago that Nubia ceased to be dom-
inated by New Kingdom Egypt—and New Kingdom Egypt was by no means
unknown to the Greek world.278 The Homeric tradition of far-off Aithiopia
arose from the desire to separate the inhabited world from the boundless (ἀπεί-
ρων) cosmos. According to archaic cosmology,279 the continents of Europe,
Asia, and Africa are surrounded by Ocean,280 a “river”281 without another bank
on its farther side. In the south, Ocean washes the shores of Aithiopia.282
The properties of the land of Aithiopia correspond with the virtues of its
inhabitants. The Aithiopia of early Greek poetry is blessed with perfect climate
and paradisial prosperity. Accordingly, its inhabitants are pious, noble-minded,
and blameless (ἀμύμων), whereby they deserve the visits of the gods283 who
274 Cf. H. Edelmann: Ἐρημίη und ἔρημος bei Herodot. Klio 52 (1970) 79–86; Romm 1992 35ff.;
Karttunen 2002 465.
275 Od. 1.23.—Cf. Bichler 2000 29 ff.
276 Homeric geography places it occasionally somewhat more realistically in the African
regions south of Egypt: Od. 4.84.
277 Cf. Asheri 2007c 415 f.
278 Cf. D. Panagiotopoulos: Chronik einer Begegnung. Ägypten und die Ägäis in der Bronze-
zeit. in: Beck–Bol–Bückling (eds) 2005 34–49; W. Koenigs: Bauen in Stein. ibid. 55–64;
R.S. Bianchi: Der archaische griechische Kouros und der ägyptische kanonische Bildnisty-
pus der schreitenden männlichen Figur. ibid. 65–73.
279 Which, as to this particular aspect, is decidedly refuted by Herodotus in 2.23, 4.8 and 4.36.
280 F. Gisinger: Okeanos. RE XXXIV (1937) 2308–2310; Romm 1992 12ff.
281 For the ποταμός Οκεανοἴο, see Romm 1992 15 f.
282 Romm 1992 9 ff.
283 Il. 23.205–207; Od. 1.22–24, 5.282, 287.—According to Od. 4.84 Menelaos visits the
“fiction” and “reality” 93
from time to time retreat to them in order to escape from the sufferings of the
quarrelling mankind and enjoy unlimited feasting.
I have argued on the previous pages of this study that Herodotus collected
the information presented in the Aithiopian passages in order to enrich or
support the narratives in which they are inserted, rather than to be used for
the composition of a self-contained Aithiopian logos. Accordingly, the sense of
3.17–25 (here Chapter 2, Text 7) is didactic. Its purpose is to build up a contrast
between a ruthless, mad conqueror and a morally superior peripheral people,
viz., a contrast between the Persian Cambyses and Homer’s noble savages,
representatives of the ἔσχατοι ἀνδρῶν.284 The Aithiopia described in Chapters
3.17–25 of the Histories is a moral and political utopia,285 an ideal counterpart
of the oikumene’s troubles.286
In Herminghausen’s view Chapters 3.17–25 can be regarded as a unitary
whole.287 Marco Dorati contests this interpretation. While I agree with most
of Dorati’s points, I have considerations against his conclusion according to
which the report of the envoys sent by Cambyses to the king of the long-lived
Aithiopians would be
Aithiopians on his return voyage from Troy. The combination of the “most distant” with
the accessible receives its meaning, however, only in Herodotus’ work, cf. Romm 1992
50.
284 Od. 1.23, see also Il. 13.6; Aeschylus, frgm. 329 M; Hdt. 4.23 (Scythians), 4.26 (Issedones).
285 H. Braunert: Utopia, Antworten griechischen Denkens auf die Herausforderung durch soziale
Verhältnisse. Kiel 1969; J. Ferguson: Utopias of the Classical World. London 1975; D. Daw-
son: Cities of the Gods. Communist Utopias in Greek Thought. Oxford 1992; C. Carsana–
M.T. Schettino (eds): Utopia e utopie nel pensiero storico antico. Roma 2008.
286 Romm 1992 49 ff.—For a comprehensive treatment of the Aithiopia/Nubia tradition of
antiquity, see the pioneering work by F.M. Snowden: Blacks in Antiquity. Ethiopians in the
Greco-Roman Experience. Cambridge, Mass. 1970 and cf. Lesky 1959; H. Schwabl: Das Bild
der fremden Welt bei den frühen Griechen. in: Schwabl (ed.) 1961 3–23.
287 Herminghausen 1964 71 ff.
288 Dorati 2011 299.
94 chapter 4
Chapters 17–25 of Book III—the “Aithiopian logos” of Jacoby and other schol-
ars (see Chapters 3.1, 2)—are part of Cambyses’ biography. Their traditional
interpretation is summarized thus by David Asheri:
punishment. One cannot fail to realize the dramatic quality of this biography.
The vividness of the narrative “converting the listener [and the reader] into a
spectator”294 is indebted to tragedy, as also indicated by Cambyses’ speech on
his deathbed (3.65–66)295 in which he admits his crime and “understands and
accepts his death”.296
In the Aithiopian passage, too, speech/conversation and narrator-text are in
calculated dramatic interaction, even though this passage is “only” a purposeful
interruption, a didactic digression in the tragic narrative of Cambyses’ life.
It functions as a warning that forecasts the catastrophic consequence of the
Persian’s misdeeds. The conversations between Cambyses’ spies and the king of
the long-lived Aithiopians297 are pro and con speeches. Jasper Griffin associates
Herodotus’ contrasting speeches with the technique of Homer, concluding that
it is “his moral concerns which resemble those of tragedy”.298 This is doubtless
true, but I would not rule out technical associations, either.299
The Aithiopian account spans from the headline “Cambyses determined to
launch three campaigns, one against the Carthaginians, another against the
Ammonians, and a third against the long-lived Aithiopians”300 to the conclu-
sion301 “So ended the expedition against Aithiopia”.302 Since the account of
the campaigns is a continuation of the history of Egypt’s conquest by Cam-
byses, it is likely that it (also) draws from Egyptian sources, both native and
Greek.303
304 For Egyptian kingship, see above all Assmann 1990a; 1991; 1996; 2000a; O’Connor–Silver-
man (eds) 1995; Morris 2010; and cf. J. Assmann: Politische Theologie zwischen Ägypten
und Israel. München 1992. For expansionism, cf. Kemp 1978; Frandsen 1979; Zibelius-Chen
1988; Smith 2003, etc.
305 Cf. Grimal 1986 53 ff., 683ff.; Zibelius-Chen 1988 198ff.; Assmann 1990a; Smith 2003 167ff.
306 Romm 1992 89.
307 For the impersonal nature of λέγειν, see Dorati 2011 295f.
308 A fabulous people mentioned later by Strabo, 2.5.33, FHN III No. 189, and in the ad fourth
century by Epiphanius of Salamis, De XII gemmis, 19–21, ibid. No. 305.
309 E.g., U. Wilcken: Urkunden der Ptolemäerzeit II. Berlin-Leipzig 1927 227 (Apollonios, a
Trog[l]odyte); Desanges 1978 230; O. Longo: I mangiatori di pesci: regime alimentare e
quadro culturale. MDATC 18 (1987) 9–53; Asheri 2007c 418f.
310 For the traditional association of interpreters with espionage, see Asheri 2007c 419.
“fiction” and “reality” 97
failure of the campaign against Carthage does not concern us here.311 The first
digression (3.18) is about the properties of the Table of the Sun:312
This is roughly what is told about the Table of the Sun: On the outskirts
of the city [of Meroe] there is a meadow full of boiled meat from every
kind of quadruped. During the night those of the citizens who at any
moment are in office take care to place the meat there [de Sélincourt and
Marincola translate ‘it is the duty of the magistrates to put the meat here
at night’313]; during the day anybody who so wishes may go there and eat.
The natives say that it is the earth itself that produces the meat each time.
This, then, is what is told about the so-called Table of the Sun.314
The “archaeological” identification of the Sun’s Table with various temples dis-
covered at the city of Meroe315 is entirely without foundation (cf. Chapter 1.2).
3.18 actually records two contrasting traditions: in the first the meats are placed
by the magistrates of the city of Meroe, in the second the earth itself produces
them. The source of the first tradition is not specified: it “is told”. Herodotus
ascribes the second tradition to the locals: φάναι δὲ τοὺς ἐπιχωρίους, “the natives
say”. But we are certainly not mistaken if we identify here a Greek motif, namely,
the banquets of the Aithiopians at which the Olympian gods participate. The
first tradition is probably nothing else than Herodotus’ retrospective “ratio-
nal” explanation for what “the natives say”.316 In a later chapter (3.23) the
spies/envoys would actually visit the Table of the Sun, but Herodotus does not
say what they are seeing there.
311 The historian uses here information gathered from Greek (?) informants in Egypt. Cf. 3.5;
Asheri 2007c 401 f.
312 For a fine narratological discussion of the passage, see Dorati 2011 293ff.
313 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 178.
314 FHN I 326, trans. T. Eide.
315 See recently de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 645 note 9, referring to Shinnie 1978 223.
316 Karttunen 2002 462, 467.
98 chapter 4
are said to be the tallest and most handsome of all men. They are also said
to have customs which set them apart from other peoples, especially the
following concerning the royalty: the man among the citizens whom they
find to be the tallest and to have strength in proportion to his height they
find fit to be king.317
The Aithiopia tradition used here and in the Sabacos story (2.137+ 139, Chap-
ter 2, Text 2, cf. Chapter 4.4) would appear in a more explicit form in Agath-
archides of Cnidus’ (born around 200bc)318 On Affairs in Asia:319
Of the customs among the Aithiopians not a few appear to be very differ-
ent from those of other peoples, especially as regards the election of kings.
The priests first select the best candidates from among themselves, and
from among these selected men the multitude then chooses as king him
whom the god seizes320 while being carried about in a procession in a tra-
ditional manner. They then immediately prostrate themselves before this
man and honour him as a god, in the belief that the rule has been placed in
his hands through the providence of the divinity (…) The strangest thing,
however, is the circumstances that surround the death of their kings. In
Meroe the priests who busy themselves with the worshiping and honour-
ing the gods, the highest and most powerful class in the society, send a
message to the king whenever it occurs to them, ordering him to die. This
is an oracle sent them by the gods, they pretend (…) In former times the
kings were subject to the priests, without being vanquished by arms or any
force at all, but overpowered in their minds by just this kind of supersti-
tion. At the time of Ptolemy [II], however, Ergamenes, king of the Aithiopi-
ans, who had received instruction in Greek philosophy, was the first who
dared disdain this command. With the determination worthy of a king he
came with an armed force to the forbidden place where the golden temple
of the Aithiopians was situated and slaughtered all the priests, abolished
this tradition, and instituted practices at his own discretion.321
Not only is the Egyptian climate peculiar to that country, and the Nile
different in its behaviour from other rivers elsewhere, but the Egyptians
themselves in their manners and customs seem to have reversed the
ordinary practices of mankind.323
The oppositions pointed out by Herodotus between the Egyptians and other
peoples have a geographical explanation, in which the historian conforms to
contemporary writers.324 The case of the long-lived Aithiopians is of a different
nature. Their customs as described in the Histories demonstrate moral supe-
riority over the Persians (i.e., over the illegitimate ruler Cambyses).325 Agath-
archides then radically turns the tables when he qualifies the Aithiopian cus-
toms as δεισιδαιμονία, “superstition” that, thanks to Ergamenes’ Greek education,
is superseded by λογισμός, “reason”.326
In a thought-provoking comment on Herodotus’ description of Egyptian ora-
cles in Chapter 2.83, Alan Lloyd interprets Agatharchides’ account of Aithiopian
kingship as a historical source.327 He suggests that the process leading to the
322 E.N. Borza: Response (to N.G.L. Hammond: The Macedonian Imprint on the Hellenistic
World, 12–23) in: Green (ed.) 1993 23–35 27; for a similar tradition of the Ptolemies, cf.
Lloyd 2000 408; W. Huss: Ägypten in hellenistischer Zeit 332–30 v. Chr. München 2001 81ff.
323 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 109. Cf. Lloyd 1975 141ff.
324 Rood 2006 301 f., cf. Thomas 2000 42 ff., 130f.
325 For Herodotus’ Scythians in Book IV of the Histories as an idealized “other” contrasted to
the Greek world, see Hartog 1988.
326 Cf. Dihle 1961 223ff.
327 Lloyd 1976 346.
100 chapter 4
328 Cf. J. Assmann: Re und Amun. Die Krise des polytheistischen Weltbildes in Ägypten der 18.-20.
Dynastie (OBO 51). Göttingen 1983; Römer 1994.
329 George Andrew Reisner, one of the greatest early twentieth century pioneers of Nubian
Studies, created the methodology for survey and rescue archaeology, brought a new
standard to the study of stratification, and established the framework of the cultural
typology of the Middle Nile Region on the basis of his Lower Nubian excavations. His
subsequent investigation of the Kushite royal necropoleis at el Kurru, Nuri, Gebel Barkal
and Begarawiya North (and the royal/élite cemeteries of Begrawiya West and South), and
finally of the temples of Napata (Gebel Barkal), led him to suggest a detailed chronology
for the Kingdom of Kush. He reconstructed the history of the Middle Nile Region in terms
of archaeological cultures identified with different peoples, connecting the “progressive”
periods to the influx or domination of the superior Hamitic race and describing the
periods which he interpreted as political and cultural decline as periods of immigration
of Negroid peoples from the south. Cf. Török 1997a 14f.
330 Kendall 1999 5, 57.
331 Prince Osorkon was appointed High Priest of Amun of Thebes around 840bc. For his
chronology and the events of his period, see R.A. Caminos: The Chronicle of Prince Osorkon.
Rome 1958; Kitchen 1996 330 ff.; Leahy (ed.) 1990.
“fiction” and “reality” 101
337 F. Hintze: Die Inschriften des Löwentempels von Musawwarat es Sufra (Abhandlungen der
Deutschen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin Klasse für Sprachen, Literatur und Kunst
Jahrgang 1962 Nr. 1). Berlin 1962 16 f.
338 L. Török in FHN II 566 f.
339 For a survey, see S.M. Burstein: The Hellenistic Fringe: The Case of Meroe. in: Green (ed.)
1993 38–54 47 ff. (= Burstein 1995 105–123 111 ff.).
340 Cf. Török 1997a 263ff.; Török 2002 passim.
341 Cf. Török 2002 306 ff.
342 Török 1992.
343 For the royal burials at Napata, see Dunham 1955 (Nuri), Dunham 1957 (Barkal); at Meroe
City: Dunham 1957 (Begarawiya North), Dunham 1963 (Begarawiya South).
344 Dunham 1957 27ff.
345 His direct successor Amanislo was buried next to him in the pyramid tomb Beg. S. 5
situated in an even less prominent part of the hillock, see Dunham 1957 37.
“fiction” and “reality” 103
royal burial ground (Begarawiya North) on the top of another hillock next to
Begarawiya South.346
Albeit transferring them into the realm of the Herodotean motif of the mas-
sacre of the priests, Agatharchides’ Ergamenes story hints at the violent cir-
cumstances in which the new dynasty emerged. The historical Arkamaniqo’s
remarkable Throne name lends further support to the above-sketched inter-
pretation. He adopted the Throne name H̱ nm-ıʾb-Rꜥ, “The-heart-of-Re-rejoices,”
of Amasis of the Twenty-Sixth Dynasty. Amasis did not hide the fact from his
contemporaries that he violently deposed his predecessor.347 Imitating Ama-
sis’ Throne name as the only one among the Egyptian and Meroitic rulers,348
Arkamaniqo directly associated himself with an Egyptian king who was known
to posterity as a usurper.349 Significantly, Amasis’ most important features in
Herodotus’ description, viz., a usurper in the beginning, later a “lover of the
Greeks” (2.178), may also be extracted from Agatharchides’ Ergamenes-portrait.
While other elements of the Ergamenes story come in fact from different sto-
ries of Herodotus, this parallelism is more likely historical, a parallelism that
was felt and brought to expression by Arkamaniqo himself. The model of Arka-
maniqo’s Throne name, the change of the royal burial ground connected to his
reign, and the elements of the classical Egypt- and Aithiopia-traditions asso-
ciated with him all fit into the homogeneous picture of a dynastic change of
epochal importance.
346 For the development of the burial ground at Begarawiya South, cf. I. Hofmann: Beiträge
zur meroitischen Chronologie. St. Augustin bei Bonn 1978; Török 2011a 109ff.
347 For his stela from Year 1 see H. de Meulenaere: Amasis. LÄ I (1973) 181–182.
348 Unless the epithet Stp-nṯrw, “Chosen-of-the-Gods”, in the Throne name of Arkamaniqo’s
fifth successor, Adikhalamani, repeats Amasis’ Golden Horus name: in this case, we would
have good reason to suppose that Amasis’ titulary (and additional information) could
be found in some archives in Meroe. Cf. FHN II 590; for the archives in Kush, see my
discussion of the royal titularies in Török 2002a 335 ff. and see here Chapter 4.3.
349 Meulenaere 1951 85 ff.
104 chapter 4
350 E.g., Diodorus 3.5.1, Strabo 17.2.3; cf. Murray 1970 153ff.; Asheri 2007c 420.
351 Asheri 2007c 420.
352 On the genre of the Egyptian king’s novel, see A. Loprieno: The “King’s Novel”. in: Loprieno
(ed.) 1996 277–295. On Kushite examples of the king’s novel, see Török 2002 342–448,
esp. 342–367.
353 Ḏw-wꜥb, “Pure-mountain”, name of the sacred mountain of Gebel Barkal and of Napata.
“fiction” and “reality” 105
into negotiations with him and deliver his presents, “which he [Cambyses]
too takes special pleasure in using himself”. For “protector” Herodotus uses
here ξεῖνός, a technical term of the Greek institution of “official friendship” or
“guestfriendship”.358
In answer, the king of the Aithiopians unmasks them in a speech, quoted by
Herodotus in first-person singular, as spies, and their lord as an unjust man who
in truth sent them not as bringers of gifts and who does not want to become his
friend, but is actually planning to conquer his land (3.21). Herodotus gives in
the mouth of the king of the long-lived Aithiopians one of his most important
moral comments on expansionism in general and Persian expansionism in
particular:359
Neither did the King of the Persians send you as bringers of gifts because
he considers it important to become my friend (ξεῖνός); nor are you telling
the truth—for you have come as spies against my kingdom—nor is he
a just man. For if he had been just, he would not have coveted another
country than his own, nor would he reduce to slavery men who have done
him no wrong.360
Asheri’s suggestion that the central topic of Book III is the conflict between
falsehood and truth and that the narrative also incorporates the knowledge of
the mazdaic dualism of Ormuz and Ahriman is supported by the presence of
other materials of Persian origin in the Histories361 as well as by the connections
between Herodotus’ account of Darius’ accession and Darius’Behistun (Bisitun)
Inscription,362 a propaganda text363 leaving the following admonition to poster-
ity:
358 For xeinos, see D. Kienast: Presbeia. RE Suppl. XIII (1973) 499–628 581ff.; F. Gschnitzer:
Proxenos. ibid. XIII 629–730 661 ff.; for προξενία, “guestfriendship”, see C. Marek: Die Prox-
enie. Frankfurt 1984.
359 Cf. also V. Hunter: Past and Process in Herodotus and Thucydides. Princeton 1982 178ff.;
Bichler 2004 96 f.
360 3.21, Chapter 2, Text 7.
361 Cf. Flower 2006.
362 For the editions of, and literature on the great trilingual rock inscription near the village
of Behistun, about 33 km east of Kermanshah in Media, see D. Asheri: Appendix I. in:
Asheri–Lloyd–Corcella 2007 529 f.; for Maria Brosius’ English translation of the inscription,
see Brosius 2007.
363 Asheri 2007c 385ff., 458 f.
“fiction” and “reality” 107
Darius the king says: “You who shall be king hereafter, protect yourself vig-
orously from the Lie. The man who follows the Lie, punish him severely,
if you shall think thus: ‘Let my country be secure’ ”.364
Returning to the dialogue between Cambyses’ spies and the king of the long-
lived Aithiopians, the latter continues his speech as follows:
“Now give him [Cambyses] this bow and tell him this, ‘The King of the
Aithiopians has a piece of advice for the King of the Persians. When the
Persians can draw bows that are of this size as easily as this, then let him
march against the long-lived Aithiopians with a superior force; but he
should be grateful to the gods that up to now they have not put it in the
minds of the children of the Aithiopians to acquire other land than their
own’”.365
The motif of the bow—the difficult task and its solution by the hero—belongs
to the repertory of mythical tales and also occurs in the Homeric poems (for
instance, Telemachos cannot draw Odysseus’ bow366). Next, the king inspects
the presents sent by Cambyses, namely, a purple robe, a necklace and bracelets
of gold, an alabaster jar of myrrh, and a jar of Phoenician wine. Learning the
truth about the dyeing of the purple robe, a symbol of monarchy (cf. 3.139),
the king is reported to declare that the Persians are as deceptive as their
clothes367—obviously, he is aware that accepting the robe he also would accept
Cambyses’ overlordship.368 In the necklace and bracelets he sees symbols of
slavery. While the myrrh receives the same comment as the purple robe, the
Phoenician wine is received more enthusiastically. But it gives the king the
opportunity to ask about the diet and the drinks of the king of Persia and about
what was the longest a Persian could live. Learning that the maximum life-
time was eighty years in Persia, the Aithiopian replies that this is so because
the Persians feed on manure (κόπρος). He reveals that most of the Aithiopi-
ans attain one hundred and twenty years because they eat boiled meat and
drink milk and the water of a miraculous fountain, which is the cause of their
longevity.369
After visiting this actual fountain, the king takes the spies to a men’s prison
where “all were bound in fetters of gold”, demonstrating thus the little value
gold has in utopia. The abundance of gold is a feature of the fringes,370 simi-
larly to the Table of the Sun that the king and Cambyses’ spies visit next (see
Chapter 4.8). Finally, Chapter 3.24 relates their visit at the transparent coffins of
the Aithiopians. The description of the latter reflects in part Herodotus’ knowl-
edge of Egyptian mummification, cartonnage-making, and mortuary offerings
(cf. 2.85–88), and is in part fantastic.
The mocking of the king of the Aithiopians is directed against civilization
in which man has to fabricate everything he needs. Civilization is shown as
inferior to the natural way of life of the peripheral peoples. The only exception
is palm wine, which peoples of the fringes drink moderately (according to the
Greek tradition, it is excess that has catastrophic effects, as Herodotus stresses
again and again371). Cambyses himself is accused of being driven “to frenzy and
madness” by wine (3.34). On the whole, the king’s comments on Cambyses’ gifts
convey Herodotus’ criticism.372
The encounter of the spies with the king of the long-lived Aithiopians closes
in Chapter 3.24 with the remark:
The closest relatives [of the dead] keep the block [i.e., the transparent
coffin] in their houses for a year, bringing it all the first-fruit offerings and
sacrifices; thereafter they take it away and set it up outside the city.373
369 Possibly a Homeric motif, cf. Od. 3.1–2; Asheri 2007c 423.
370 Cf. 3.106: India; 3.116: Scythia; 4.195: Libya.
371 1.106; 1.207; 1.211 ff.; 2.121; 3.4; 6.84.
372 “In fact what is under attack here are the most basic underpinnings of Mediterranean
technology and material culture (…) The most esteemed products of a sophisticated,
manufacturing-based society suddenly lose their value when viewed through the eyes of
Naturvölker, for whom the raw materials supplied by nature are sufficient to meet every
need”: Romm 1992 57.
373 FHN I 328, trans. T. Eide.
374 I am following here the discussion of the problem in my Transfigurations of Hellenism.
Aspects of Late Antique Art in Egypt AD 250–700 (Probleme der Ägyptologie 23). Leiden-
“fiction” and “reality” 109
between the first century bc and the ad third century mummies with or with-
out painted portraits or portrait masks were kept at home, where they were
displayed in the portico or the court or the domestic shrine where they were
venerated by the family for a period of time (several years?) before they would
have been buried in a family or a communal vault.375 As Silius Italicus (d. ad 101)
says in his Punica,
While Silius is mistaken as to the material of the coffins, the essence of his
testimony is also supported by Lucian (ad second century) who writes in his
De luctu that the Egyptian “after drying the dead man makes him his guest at
table”.377 Besides Diodorus378 and Cicero,379 also the Life of Antony (attributed
perhaps wrongly to Athanasius)380 may be quoted here according to which the
saint forbade his pupils to bring his body back to the valley after his death “in
order to place it in a house”.
Instead of a stone coffin, as Silius erroneously writes, the mummy may in fact
have been displayed in an aedicula-like wooden “shrine sarcophagus”381 the
Boston 2005 296 ff.—For the evidence of Teles of Megara (third century bc), Diodorus 1.91,
Cicero, Tusculanae disputationes 1.108.2 (first century bc), Pomponius Mela 1.9.27 (ad first
century), see D. Montserrat: Death and Funerals in the Roman Fayum. in: Bierbrier (ed.)
1997 33–44; B. Gessler-Löhr: Mummies and Mummification. in: Riggs (ed.) 2012 664–683
666. For later Roman evidence, see below.
375 Borg 1996 196ff.; Borg 1997; Parlasca 1999 26.
376 Silius Italicus, Punica 13.475, ed. and trans. J.D. Duff, Loeb edn. vol. II. Cambridge Mass.-
London 1961, quoted by Borg 1997 26.
377 Lucian, De luctu 21, ed. and trans. A.M. Harmon, Loeb edn. vol. IV. Cambridge Mass.-
London 1961, quoted by Borg 1997 26.
378 Diodorus 1.92.6.
379 Cicero, Tusc. 1.108.
380 Cf. F. Dunand–R. Lichtenberg: Pratiques et croyances funéraires en Égypte romaine. in:
ANRW II.18.5 (1995) 3216–3315, 3276 with note 271.—For the issue of authorship, see
G.J.M. Bartelink: Athanase: Vie d’Antoine. Paris 1994 27ff.; D. Brakke: Athanasius and
Asceticism. Baltimore 1998 15 with note 31; T.D. Barnes: Athanasius. in: G.W. Bowersock–
P. Brown–O. Grabar (eds): Late Antiquity. A Guide to the Postclassical World. Cambridge
Mass.-London 1999 320–321.
381 E.g., coffin of Padichons from Abusir el-Melek, Berlin 17039, Seipel (ed.) 1998 88ff. Cat. 15,
ad first century.
110 chapter 4
382 Riggs 2005 149 ff. does not consider the “shrine sarcophaguses” from the aspect of the
domestic cult of the dead.
383 N. Cherpion–J.-P. Corteggiani–J.-Fr. Gout: Le tombeau de Pétosiris à Touna el-Gebel. Relevé
photographique (BiGen 27). Le Caire 2007 scene 68 c.
384 Paris, Musée du Louvre, Département des Antiquités Egyptiennes AF 6486 (shroud of a
boy), AF 6484, 6487 (shrouds of women): Parlasca–Seemann (eds) 1999 Cats 199, 200.
385 Although it is considered historical by, e.g., Kienitz 1953 55; 130ff.; Welsby 1996 65f.—For
the scholarly debate on its alleged historicity, which frequently operates with selected
evidence and outdated interpretation, see the somewhat hesitating comments in Asheri
2007c 425 f.
386 Burkert 1990 9; Blok 2002 239; Karttunen 2002 461ff.
387 Massagetae: 1.216; Indian Padaei: 3.99–100; Issedones: 4.26. Cf. Blok 2002 239; Karttunen
2002 461 ff.
“fiction” and “reality” 111
ans delivered every second year, “and still deliver in my [Herodotus’] time two
choinikes of unrefined gold,390 two hundred logs of ebony, five Aithiopian boys,
and twenty great elephant tusks”.
Herodotus’ catalogue of the satrapies corresponds with Persian dahyāva,
“lists of peoples”, and with Persian catalogues of “lands inhabited by peoples”.391
His sequence is hellenocentric as to the order of the satrapies, i.e., it is manip-
ulated; but half of his provinces correspond to the historical satrapies, as they
are known from later evidence, while it is only around one third of the dahyāva
that can be identified in the same sources.
Classical literature variously locates the sacred mountain of Nysa392 in
Aithiopia, Libya, India, Thrace, or on one of the Greek islands. Here and in
2.146 Herodotus sites it “in Aithiopia above Egypt”, i.e., at a “furthest place”.393
According to Stanley Burstein’s emendation of 3.97, the gifts sent to the king
of Persia represent in reality the tribute of two groups of Aithiopians, namely,
the Aithiopians living in Lower Nubia under the domination of Egypt’s Persian
rulers, and the independent Aithiopians living south of Lower Nubia, i.e., in the
Kingdom of Kush. Such an interpretation of the passage is also supported by
the location of Nysa in 2.146 as well as the composition of the gifts. It is impor-
tant to note, however, that the original Persian source presented an official list
of the taxes of the Aithiopians of Lower Nubia under Persian domination in
combination with a list of the gifts of the king of Kush. It cannot be exactly
decided which items of the list represent the tributes of the Lower Nubians
and which items may be identified as actual gifts of the king of Kush. Be that
as it may, it has to be noted that if the elephant tusks were to be delivered by
the Lower Nubian Aithiopians, they had to be acquired from the king of Kush,
since after the early New Kingdom elephants could no longer be hunted in
Lower Nubia.394 While gold dust may have been a Lower Nubian tribute, the
ebony logs and the Aithiopian boys came more likely from the king of Kush. We
may conclude that Herodotus combines here the Aithiopians of Lower Nubia
with the Aithiopians of the Greek utopian tradition in a way that leaves no
390 I.e., gold-dust: the choinix was a Greek dry measure, particularly for corn; the Attic choinix
was the equivalent of 1.1 litre (note by T. Eide, FHN I 313 n. 86).
391 For a comparative list of the satrapies and peoples in the Histories and in the Persian
inscriptions, see Appendix II in: Asheri 2007c 538–542.
392 The interpretation by Desanges 1978 233 note 93 of the name as a rendering of ancient
Egyptian Tꜣ-nḥsy, “Bow-land”, i.e., Nubia, is without foundation.
393 Cf. J. Bergman: Ich bin Isis. Studien zum memphitischen Hintergrund der griechischen
Isisaretalogien. Uppsala 1968 35 f.
394 Cf. Zibelius-Chen 1988 112 ff.; Morkot 1998.
“fiction” and “reality” 113
doubt that he ignored the really existing Kingdom of Kush and received only
second-hand information about the contents of the Persian list of taxes and
gifts.
The Aithiopian passages discussed in this chapter are inserted in the account
of the Libyan tribes and their customs (4.168–199). Like other ancient writers,
Herodotus uses the geographical term “Libya” to describe the whole of Africa
west of the Nile.395 In 4.197 (here Chapter 2, Text 9), however, it is Aithiopia that
denotes the entire territory of Africa beyond Elephantine. In this context, the
Aithiopians are a peripheral ethnē who inhabit the second circle of the world,
i.e., the region of the fabulous peoples, and have nothing to do with the “really
existing” Aithiopians living along the borders of Egypt (cf. Chapter 4.7). The
third circle is the unknown world.
The inhabitants of the second circle “can only be known through indirect
information”396 (cf. Chapter 4.1). According to Justus Cobet,
The information about the Aithiopians in 4.197 conforms with Cobet’s first-
named stereotype. In turn, Chapter 183 of Book IV (here Chapter 2, Text 10)
presents a typical example of the combination of classical stereotypes con-
cerning fabulous peoples living in the second circle of the world with features
that students of the Histories are inclined to interpret as deriving from realistic
ethnographical information.
The original form of the Greek ethnonym τρωγλοδύται was probably τρωγο-
δύται: τρωγλοδύται, “who enter into holes”, i.e., the “cave-dwellers”, was a popular
etymology.398 In Egyptian texts the Trog[l]odytes of the Greek authors appear
under the name ʾIwntyw.399 We know that Nekau II of the Twenty-Sixth Dynasty
sent a military expedition to Lower Nubia in order to secure the commercial
road along the Nile (Chapter 4.5). The inscription commemorating this under-
taking400 is too fragmentary to give a precise idea of the geographical range
of the expedition, in which vessels transporting horses for manoeuvres on land
were sent upstream, too. The latter detail indicates that the campaign could not
go farther south than the Second Cataract. This would conform with the texts of
later authors who locate the Trog[l]odytes between the Nile and the Red Sea.401
The apparently purely fabulous catalogue of the characteristics of the
Aithiopian Trog[l]odytes as they are presented in the Histories is sometimes
believed to include realistic features. Aldo Corcella suggested recently that
the Trog[l]odytes were ancestors of the “modern melanodermic farmers of the
oases and of the Tebu of the Tibesti”, i.e., the “Rock People” living today in north-
ern Chad around the Tibesti mountains and in southern Libya, north-eastern
Niger and southwestern Sudan. According to Corcella, the “Rock People” are “to
this day (…) famously good runners”.402 Corcella also suggests that the compari-
son of the Trog[l]odytes’ voices with the squeaking of bats “can find a confirma-
tion in the unusual sounds of the language of the Tebu”.403 He hastens to add
a more probable explanation too, however, reminding his reader “the Greeks
normally likened foreign languages to the sounds of birds”.404
399 For the ancient sources on the Trog[l]odytes, see Desanges 2008 39ff., comments on Pliny,
NH 6.163–197.
400 C. Müller: Drei Stelenfragmente. in: W. Kaiser et al.: Stadt und Tempel von Elephantine.
Fünfter Grabungsbericht. MDAIK 31 (1975) 80–84 83f.; F. Junge: Elephantine XI. Funde und
Bauteile. Mainz 1987 66 f.; K. Jansen-Winkeln: Zur Schiffsliste aus Elephantine. GM 109
(1989) 31.
401 Cf. Eratosthenes in Strabo 17.1.2, FHN II No. 109; Agatharchides in Diodorus 3.33.2, ibid.
No. 147; J. Desanges: Les sources de Pline dans sa description de la Trogloditique et de
l’ Éthiopie (NH 6, 163–197). in: Pline l’ Ancien, témoin de son temps. Salamanca-Nantes 1987
277–292.
402 Corcella 2007 706, with reference to J. Tschudi: Pitture rupestri del Tassili degli Azer (Sahara
Algerino). Firenze 1955 31; J. Chapelle: Nomades noirs du Sahara. Paris 1982 33ff.
403 Corcella 2007 706.
404 Corcella 2007 706f., cf. Hdt. 2.57.
“fiction” and “reality” 115
that forecasts the principal message of these chapters, namely that there exists
an equal distribution of good and evil and there is a global balance in the
world:405
It would seem that the remotest parts of the world have the finest prod-
ucts, whereas Greece has far the best and most temperate climate.406
In any case it does seem to be true that the countries which lie on
the circumference of the inhabited world produce the things which we
believe to be most rare and beautiful.409
The significance of the global balance is viewed in the Histories mainly from
two central positions, viz., from Greece and Persia. The Greek attitude does not
concern us here. As to the Persians, they consider their geographical position
as the basis of their cultural and political superiority and believe that the infe-
riority of the peoples living on the fringes is a consequence of their opposite
geographical position. The Histories offer several powerful examples of how the
hubris of the Persians is punished. The account of Cambyses’ failed Aithiopian
campaign in 3.17–26 (Chapters 4.8, 9) presents an especially impressive exam-
ple.410
Excerpting partly 3.17–26, in 3.114 (here Chapter 2, Text 11) the historian
gives a brief list of the marvels of Aithiopia extending “toward the setting sun,
the furthest inhabited country”. To the marvels introduced in 3.17, viz., the
physical perfection and long lifespan of the Aithiopians, and the abundance
of gold in their land, Herodotus adds here “huge elephants, all kinds of wild
trees, and ebony”. The wild trees belong to the paradisiac landscape of utopian
peripheries. Elephant ivory and ebony occur in the catalogue of the Aithiopian
tribute sent to the kings of Persia (3.97, here Chapter 2, Text 8, cf. Chapter 4.10).
Their mention in Text 11 derives from the same source. Egyptians considered
ebony one of the most important Nubian imports ever since the Old Kingdom.
Ebony would still appear among the tributes of several Lower Nubian regions
in Ptolemy VI’s Nubian nome list inscribed in the Philae Isis temple,411 and
centuries later Diodorus412 and Strabo413 list the ebony tree with the most
common trees growing in the Meroitic kingdom, such as the date palm, persea,
and carob tree.
the other half with ochre”.417 The description is in the present tense, which is
“expressing an actual, ethnographical reality”.418
Dominique Zahan found African ethnographic parallels for the arrows with
stone tips as well as for the strange custom of painting the warrior’s body half
white and half ochre before he would go to battle.419 If there were indeed
Aithiopian warriors in the Persian army who corresponded to Herodotus’ de-
scription, they could have been recruited only at the southern confines of the
Kingdom of Kush. If so, the king of Kush presented the exotic warriors to the
Persian satrap of Egypt in the framework of the traditional diplomatic gift
exchange between two neighbours (cf. Chapter 4.10).
Herodotus in Nubia
That this was what really happened I myself learnt from the priests of
Hephaestus at Memphis, though the Greeks have various improbable
versions of the story[.]1
[The] question (…) is (…) about what became of the recollections that
must have existed in the form of individual remembrances and collec-
tive traditions (…) in Egypt (…) [I]t is much easier to explain the survival
of these memories until the Hellenistic period than their complete dis-
appearance. Herodotus and demotic literature abound with tales, anec-
dotes, and fables that must have lived on in oral tradition for centuries or
even a millennium.2
All Egyptians use bulls and bull-calves for sacrifice, if they have passed
the test for ‘cleanness’; but they are forbidden to sacrifice heifers, on the
ground that they are sacred to Isis (…) This is the reason why no Egyptian,
man or woman, will kiss a Greek, or use a Greek knife, spit, or cauldron,
or even eat the flesh of a bull known to be clean, if it has been cut with a
Greek knife.3
It is far from certain, however, that the taboo appearing in this passage rep-
resents in fact a timeless feature of Egyptian (ritual) purity. At the zenith of
New Kingdom Egypt’s power, Rameses II’s Marriage Stela describes Egyptian
and Hittite soldiers eating and drinking together, because “they were like broth-
ers”.4 It would thus seem that the origins of the taboo related by Herodotus were
more recent. Jan Assmann made the acute observation5 that its only parallel is
to be found in the text of Piankhy’s Great Triumphal Stela (cf. Chapters 1.3, 4.4).
Lines 147–152 of the stela inscription recount the homage paid to Piankhy by the
“rulers of the South”, Nimlot and Peftjauawybast, and the “rulers of the North”,
Osorkon IV and Iuput II. Only Nimlot is allowed to enter Piankhy’s residence.
The other three are excluded, because they are ritually impure:6
[T]hose two rulers of the South and the two rulers of the North
came wearing their uraei7
to kiss the ground to the might of His Majesty.
Now these kings and counts of North-land came to behold His Majesty’s
beauty,
their legs being the legs of women.
They could not enter the royal residence
because they were uncircumcised and fish-eaters,
and this is an abomination to the royal residence.
But King Nimlot entered the royal residence
because he was clean and did not eat fish.8
It is worth noting here that, under special circumstances, the Nubian ruler
demanded actual priestly purity from certain groups of his subjects. At an
earlier stage of the campaign recorded in the stela, sending his army north to
Egypt to recapture the rebel Nimlot’s capital,9 Piankhy orders the soldiers to
purify themselves as a preparation for battle. Thereby he elevates the campaign
to the level of a holy war:
Grimal’s reading and translation of this sentence to the reading wnḫ-ṯn m tp-mr, “dress
yourselves” put forward by Pierce in FHN I 71 line 12.
11 FHN I 71 f., lines 12–14, trans. R.H. Pierce.
12 Clarysse 2010 277.
13 Cf. Lloyd 1975 90.
herodotus in nubia 121
in Egypt. The information appearing in 4.197 (Chapter 2, Text 9), 4.183 (Chap-
ter 2, Text 10), and 3.114 (Chapter 2, Text 11) derives from the Greek tradi-
tion.
In Chapter 100 of Book II Herodotus makes the important remark that
the priests of Ptah read to him “from a written record the names of three
hundred and thirty monarchs”14 (cf. Chapter 4.1). On the basis of what we have
learnt about the relationship of “fiction” and “reality” in Herodotus’ Aithiopian
passages, I have ventured a hypothesis concerning the nature of the actual
written documents—probably papyri (cf. Chapter 4.1)—that the priests of Ptah
studied when they tried to inform their learned Greek visitor on matters of
Egypt’s remote past.15 It may be argued that the specific information relating
to Kushite kingship that appears in 2.29–31, 2.110, 2.137+ 139, 2.152, and 3.17–25
derives from (a) text(s) containing (elements of) an eulogistic discourse16 on
the Nubian dynasty’s myth of the state (cf. Chapter 4.9). The composition of
the supposed discourse may be placed in the intellectual milieu in which the
Memphite Theology of Creation (Chapter 4.2) was conceived, and it can be dated
to the period in which the capital of the double kingdom of the Twenty-Fifth
Dynasty pharaohs Shabaqo, Shebitqo, and Taharqo was at Memphis. Judging
by the topical and chronological range of the references made to the role that
the Amun oracles play in the Kushite investiture rites, it may also be supposed
that sometime after the late seventh century bc the Memphite discourse on
Twenty-Fifth-Dynasty kingship was re-edited and complemented with more
recent information (Chapters 4.1, 4, 5.1).
Although it appears in the history of Egypt, the association of Sesostris17
with Nubia in 2.110 (here Chapter 2, Text 1, cf. Chapters 4.2, 3 above) reflects
the Nubian revival of the cult of Senusret III occurring under the Twenty-Fifth
Dynasty and especially in the reign of Taharqo. The emulation of great Mid-
dle Kingdom rulers in general and of Senusret III in particular constituted a
significant aspect of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty image of the ideal ruler, and it
supported the Nubian pharaohs’ royal legitimacy in Nubia as well as in Egypt.
Passages in the account of Sabacos’ reign in 2.137+ 139 (here Chapter 2, Text 2)
where Sabacos imitates Sesostris in compelling the criminal offender instead
of death penalty “to heap up dykes in front of his home city”, derive probably
from the same Memphite source.
In Chapter 139 of Book II (here Chapter 2, Text 2) the gods warn Sabacos
through a dream that a catastrophe is about to bring him down if he trans-
gresses the limits of moral. The Histories abound with stories about oracles.18 As
a narrative device, Sabacos’ dream oracle belongs to the current mechanisms
of decision-making in the Histories.19 Herodotus’ references to Aithiopian ora-
cles or to oracles received by Aithiopians cannot be dismissed, however, as
mere narrative devices or as repetitions of what the historian could easily learn
about Greek or Egyptian oracles. Just as Herodotus’ information about Kushite
kingship is more substantial than his knowledge of Egyptian kingship, his infor-
mation about the functional context of Kushite oracles is of a better quality
than his knowledge of Egyptian Orakelwesen20 (cf. 2.8321). While Herodotus
purposefully interweaves the story of the dream with the horrible Persian lus-
tratio motif (which also occurs in the Pythius story in 7.39, cf. Chapter 4.4), the
dream oracle itself indicates again the same Memphite source(s). Information
about the special significance of the Kushite oracles in the legitimation, investi-
ture, and political decisions of the Nubian rulers is also present in 2.29–31 (here
Chapter 2, Text 6, cf. Chapter 4.7) and 3.17–26 (here Chapter 2, Text 7, cf. Chap-
ters 4.8, 9).
Albeit obviously simplified and distorted by (a) re-edition(s) of the original
discourse (cf. Chapters 4.1, 4), the image of Kushite kingship as it transpires
in the Aithiopian passages, first of all in 2.29–31 (Text 6), 2.137+ 139 (Text 2),
2.152 (Text 3), and 3.17–25 (Text 7), is far more substantial than the portrait that
Herodotus draws of the ideal pharaoh of Egypt. The difference becomes quite
clear if we confront Herodotus’ image of Kushite kingship with Alan Lloyd’s
survey of Herodotus’ references to the Egyptian pharaoh’s campaigns/con-
quests, diplomatic activities, temple-building actions, and ambition to excel;
his benevolence, piety, justice, arrogance, vengefulness, and ruthlessness; his
acting as guardian of moral order or appearance as trickster.22 Without excep-
tion, the characteristics of the Egyptian pharaoh are topoi. Many of them are
obviously Greek, not Egyptian topoi. Moreover, most of them are familiar from
descriptions of other peoples, confirming us in our impression that Herodotus
possessed little specific information about Egyptian kingship.
to 2.141 he was the successor of Anysis, but Herodotus discusses his reign
as a sequel to the Sabacos story. His chronological position is also fixed in
2.142:
the Egyptians and their priests (…) declare that three hundred and forty-
one generations separate the first king of Egypt from the last I have
mentioned—the priest of Hephaestus—and that there was a king and
a high priest corresponding to each generation.27
Similarly to his historical model, Sethos defends Egypt against the Assyrian
invader, Sennacherib (cf. Chapter 1.3). Receiving the news of Sennacherib’s
advance,
not knowing what else to do (…) [Sethos] entered the shrine [of Ptah]
and, before the image of the god, complained bitterly of the peril which
threatened him. In the midst of his lamentations he fell asleep, and
dreamt that the god stood by him and urged him not to lose heart; for
if he marched boldly out to meet the Arabian army, he would come to no
harm, as the god himself would send him helpers.28
Once again, the motif of dream oracle appears in association with a ruler who
is modelled on one of the kings of the Nubian Twenty-Fifth Dynasty29 (cf.
Chapter 4.7).
The idealization of the Nubian pharaohs’ memory turned into a practical
political tool after 525bc when Egypt came under Persian rule30 and Nubia
was considered a likely supporter of the restoration of the pharaonic state.
The ardour of the confrontation of the tyranny and godlessness of the Persian
conqueror31 with the legitimacy and piousness of the Nubian kings may have
loves” or “the one who loves/respects the prince” and refers to Shebitqo’s predecessor,
Shabaqo.
27 de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 153 f.
28 2.141, trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 153.
29 For the Egyptian New Kingdom conception of divine intervention in grand history and in
private life, cf. Assmann 1990b 14 ff.
30 Posener 1936; A. Kuhrt: The Ancient Near East: c. 3000–330BC II. London-New York 1995
623 ff.; ead.: The Persian Empire: A Corpus of Sources from the Achaemenid Period II. Lon-
don-New York 2007 104 ff.
31 The conqueror’s “nationalist” portrait did not closely correspond to reality, however. See
herodotus in nubia 125
been further intensified by the indignation and jealousy felt by Egyptian priests
when they saw the lavishness as the conqueror rewarded certain Lower Egyp-
tian sanctuaries for their pro-Persian gestures.32
We read about the Nile flood in a Nineteenth- or Twentieth-Dynasty hier-
atic ostracon text that “the water that comes forth, there is Amun in it in
the land of Kush”.33 The special association of Amun with the inundation
in the Luxor temple34 derives from the association of Amun of Napata with
the Nile flood and with fertility.35 The survival of the notion of Nubia as the
home of Amun of Napata and the land from where the inundation arrives was
indebted not only to the theological literature created in Egypt’s great sanc-
tuaries36 but also to the “nationalist” trend37 unfolding in Late Period Egypt
in times of foreign rule (Assyrians, Persians). The question, why should Egyp-
tian priests evoke to Herodotus the memory of a past conqueror of Egypt as a
contrast to the present conqueror of their land, may be easily answered: haters
of Egypt’s Persian conquerors were talking to a Greek traveller who did not
conceal from them that he is a determined critic of Persian expansion and
despotism.38
the next note. On the period and on Cambyses’ actual relations with the Egyptian temples,
see K. Jansen-Winkeln: Die Quellen zur Eroberung Ägyptens durch Kambyses in: Bács
(ed.) 2002 309–319; Vittmann 2011 374 f.
32 Lloyd 1982a; 1983 294 ff. On Udjahorresnet, who designed Cambyses’ Egyptian royal titu-
lary and advised the conqueror about religious matters, see Lloyd 1982b; W. Huss: Ägyp-
tische Kollaborateure in persischer Zeit. Tyche 12 (1997) 131–143; Vittmann 2011 377ff.,
388 ff.
33 Ostracon DeM 1072. G. Posener: Catalogue des ostraca hiératiques litteraires de Deir el
Médineh I. Le Caire 1938 no. 1072; Zibelius-Chen 1994 4 f.; 1996 198f. See also the evidence
cited in Pamminger 1992 136 note 280.
34 Pamminger 1992 105 ff.
35 Leclant 1965 241 ff.; Pamminger 1992 113ff.; Zibelius-Chen 1994 5; 1996 198f.
36 For a general survey of the evidence, see L. Kákosy: Nubien als mythisches Land im
Altertum. Annales Budapest 8 (1966) 3–10.
37 Cf. Lloyd 1982a.
38 Cf. Harrison 2002; Flower 2006.
126 chapter 5
We know that there is truth; but we cannot exactly decide where it lies.40
39 I have borrowed the expression “Distant Mirror” from the title of Barbara W. Tuchman’s
splendid monograph: A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous 14th Century. New York 1978.
40 Thomas Babington Macaulay on the Histories. in: Edinburgh Review (May 1828), quoted
after A. Budd (ed.): The Modern Historiography Reader: Western Sources. London-New York
2009 130.
41 Jacoby 1913.
42 Cf. Bertelli 2001; Fowler 2001 101 ff.; Dihle 2005 23 (somewhat exaggerating Hecataeus’
impact).—For the relationship of Herodotus with Hecataeus, cf. Moyer 2002 71ff.
43 Jacoby 1913 361.
44 Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Letter to Gnaeus Pompeius 3, Loeb edn. (ed. S. Usher). Cam-
bridge, Mass.-London 1985 352 ff., also quoted in Irene de Jong’s masterful study of the
narrative units and narrative unity of the Histories: de Jong 2002 245. I give de Jong’s English
translation.
45 For the early responses, see O. Regenbogen: Herodot und sein Werk. Die Antike 6 (1930)
202–248; W. Schadewaldt: Herodot als erster Historiker. Die Antike 10 (1934) 144–168;
M. Pohlenz: Herodot, der erste Geschichtsschreiber des Abendlandes. Leipzig 1937 (reprint
edn. Stuttgart 1961).
46 For the definition of narrative as the account of an event and its consequence(s), see
M.J. Toolan: Narrative. A Critical Introduction. London-New York 1988 7.
47 Dewald 2002 274ff.; see also Marincola 1987.
herodotus in nubia 127
Why should such tales be included at all? Are they really told for mere enter-
taining, as Grant and others are suggesting?53 Sharing the view of these schol-
ars, some students of the Histories enthusiastically contrast Herodotus with
Thucydides,54 the second “Father of History”, quoting a famous passage of the
latter’s History of the Peloponnesian War in order to point out basic differences
between the goals of the two authors and prove the superiority of Thyucydides’
method over that of Herodotus:
48 Immerwahr 1966; Bornitz 1968; Fornara 1971; Cobet 1971; van Wees 2002 (esp. 324); Barag-
wanath 2008, etc.
49 Thomas 2006; Forsdyke 2006 225ff. For Herodotus’ interest in the Egypt of his day, cf.
Moyer 2002.
50 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 5 (my italics).
51 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 222 (my italics).
52 Grant 1995 95, referring to Hdt. 1.5 and 3.122.
53 Karttunen 2002 459.
54 Bury writes that Thucydides’ work marks “the longest and most decisive step that has ever
been taken by a single man towards making history what it is today”. J.B. Bury: Ancient
Greek Historians. New York 1908 (reprint edn. 1958) 147; also quoted by Grant 1995 9. Cf.
also Press 1982/2003 20 ff., with note 48.
128 chapter 5
I have described nothing but what I either saw myself, or learned from
others of whom I made the most careful and particular enquiry. The task
was a laborious one, because eyewitnesses of the same occurrences gave
different accounts of them, as they remembered or were interested in the
actions of one side or the other. And very likely the strictly historical char-
acter of my narrative may be disappointing to the ear. But if he who desires
to have before his eyes a true picture of the events which have happened,
and of the like events which may be expected to happen hereafter in the
order of human things, shall pronounce what I have written useful, then I
shall be satisfied. My history is an everlasting possession, not a prize com-
position which is heard and forgotten.55
55 Thucydides 1.22, trans. B. Jowett: Thucydides I. Oxford 1900 (2nd edn.). For other transla-
tions, cf. K. Caroll: Review of S. Lattimore (trans.): Thucydides: The Peloponnesian War.
Indianapolis[-Cambridge] 1998. Bryn Mawr Classical Review 1999. 06. 18; T. Rood: Review
of D. Lateiner: Thucydides: The History of the Peloponnesian War. Translated by R. Craw-
ley and revised by D. Lateiner. New York 2006. Bryn Mawr Classical Review 2007. 08. 14. On
Thucydides’ proem, cf. R. Nicolai: Thucydides’ Archaeology: Between Epic and Oral Tra-
ditions. in: Luraghi (ed.) 2001 263–285 264 ff.
56 Grant 1995 8. See also, e.g., Bakker 2002 32; Rösler 2002 79; Raaflaub 2002 153f., 179.
57 See D. Lateiner: The Empirical Element in the Methods of Early Greek Medical Writers
and Herodotus: A Shared Epistemological Response. Antichthon 20 (1986) 1–20; Murray
2001; Boedeker 2002; Slings 2002; Saïd 2002; Osborne 2002; Marincola 2006; Fowler 2006;
Griffin 2006; Griffiths 2006 and cf. Kaiser 1968 213 ff., etc.
58 Trans. de Sélincourt–Marincola 2003 3.
herodotus in nubia 129
[t]he Herodotean world had two interpenetrating aspects, the cosmic and
the human. The former was conceptualized as a cosmic order, both moral
and physical (δίκη), in which the most important notion was the concept
of boundaries by which all things and all beings were allotted their proper
place (…) the most prominent offence (…) is hybris, the transgression of
boundaries (…) any success or happiness (…) is ultimately the gift of the
gods and can be taken away as and when they will. The concept of fate
does not, however, in any way impair man’s responsibility as a moral agent
(…) Herodotus perceives human history as a series of demonstrations of
these principles (…) Herodotus’ perception of his role and obligations as
a historian is inseparably linked with these ideas (…) It also emerges that
he is concerned with explaining why things have happened.59
The point must be reiterated here that there is hardly any narrative in the
Histories that would be known with absolute certainty to have been included by
Herodotus for the purpose of pure entertaining. At best, we cannot perceive his
actual intention. This is also true for the Aithiopian passages, and their eventual
utopian features of course do not contradict this, either. Following Herodotean
scholars who propose, in however different manners, to identify a unifying
subject and a unifying structure in the Histories,66 in this book I approached
the Aithiopian passages on the assumption that all of them bear a (not always
obvious) relation to the intention of the actual narrative context in which we
find them being inserted. I have found confirmed that, be it of whatever origin
or “reality”, Herodotus placed his pieces of Aithiopian information with clear
conceptual intents.
I have also argued in this study that the Aithiopian information available
to Herodotus was inadequate for a self-contained Aithiopian logos, thus he
could not present a consciously composed, independent narrative that would
systematically discuss interpenetrating topics (Chapters 3.1, 2). Instead, the
Aithiopian passages complement or support accounts of the land, origins,
customs, and history of other peoples, first of all the Egyptians. They function as
flexible and expedient particles of Herodotus’ worldview. The reason for which
the historian gave a special emphasis to one or two Aithiopian passages—first
of all to the account of the dialogue between the spies of Cambyses and the king
of the long-lived Aithiopians, in which the latter pronounces one of the central
messages of the Histories (3.21, here Chapter 2, Text 7, cf. Chapters 4.8–9)—lies
probably in the perennial impact of the Homeric image of the land of the
blameless Aithiopians (see Chapter 4.8 above).
Chapters 17–26 of Book III (here Chapter 2, Text 7) containing the most com-
plex one among the Aithiopian passages are structured by two interrelated
antitheses.67 The first is the antithesis of an empire that cannot exist with-
out expansion to a “primitive people” (ἔθνη) that do not form an empire. The
second is the antithesis of the frailty of Mediterranean civilization to the uncor-
rupted way of life of the long-lived Aithiopians.68 By means of these antithe-
ses, the narrative demonstrates the striking contrast between the mad Per-
sian conqueror and a morally superior peripheral people embodying Homer’s
“most distant of men” (Chapter 4.8).69 The land of the long-lived Aithiopi-
ans represents an ideal counterpart70 to the oikumene’s troubles: it is a moral
and political utopia. Cambyses’ failure to conquer it presents a paradigm for
the conqueror’s hubris, his progress toward nemesis, and his horrible punish-
ment.
According to David Asheri “[t]he leitmotif of Book III is, essentially, the
metaphysical and moral conflict between falsehood and truth (…) as if it were
the philosophical pivot of the whole story”.71 Asheri also argues that there is “an
evident substratum” of oriental material in this book, the complexity of which
implies that in composing his sophisticated examples of the conflict between
falsehood and truth Herodotus relied not only on the Ionian philosophical
tradition and/or the sophistic movement,72 but was also aware of “the mazdaic
dualism of Ormuz and Ahriman, of the principles of Good and Evil, True and
False, in eternal conflict in the souls of humans”.73
Half of the Aithiopian passages appear in the context of the Egyptian logos.
If the common topic of the narratives of Book III is the conflict between false-
hood and truth, the account of Egyptian history in Book II is underpinned by
Herodotus’ interpretation of the Greek moral universe. Alan Lloyd identifies a
series of deeply impressive narratives presented by Herodotus
This list is incomplete without the account of the land of the long-lived Aithi-
opians and Cambyses’ failure to conquer it. Sara Forsdyke rightly points out
that it is part and parcel of Herodotus’ “critical examination of Greek under-
standings of Self and Other” and of his systematic analysis of politics.76 Details
such as the election of the tallest and best-looking man have Greek, not Nubian
origins. It also appears in portraits of heroes from other regions.77 From the spe-
cial aspect of the present investigation, however, the most significant feature of
this narrative is that Herodotus inserted into it realistic information about Per-
sian as well as Kushite conceptions. He used information about the “election”
of the king of Kush and the complex role that the oracle of Zeus (Amun) plays
in it with the intention to support a discourse composed mainly from Greek
elements and addressed to a Greek audience.
So much for the manner in which Herodotus approached his general goal in
his brief and fragmentary accounts of Aithiopia. Concluding our survey, let us
return for a moment to the problem of the goal itself. In his Histories Herodotus
described (of course partly inventing it) a universal historical space.78 In time,
he went back to the oldest gods beyond Min, the first human king of Egypt (2.43,
145).79 In space, his investigations extended to the boundaries of the known
world:
A universal history of the human race: but it was not an end in itself. Herodotus
set himself the task to find and describe the universal law that determines
the course of history, similarly as Anaximander treated the natural world, or
Solon the life of human society.81 He also set himself the tasks to locate Greek
culture and experience within his universal historical space,82 explain why
individuals and communities rise and fall, demonstrate “the value of political
freedom”,83 and warn the Athenians against developing an expansionist policy
and committing transgressions such as may follow from the fatal error of
underestimating the Persian Empire.84
Accordingly, the moral criticism of expansionism voiced by the king of the
long-lived Aithiopians (3.21, here Chapter 2, Text 7) has to be considered one of
the central messages of the Histories. In the speech of Artabanus addressed to
Xerxes (7.18) Herodotus reiterates the Aithiopian’s message about “the recur-
rent model of failed expansionism”:85
Sire, like other men I have seen in my time powerful kingdoms struck
down by weaker ones, and I could not but remember the fate of Cyrus’
campaign against the Massagetae and Cambyses’ invasion of Aithiopia
(…) My memory of these disasters forced me to believe that the world
would call you happy only if you lived in peace.86
Earlier in this chapter I have cited Bury and Grant on the differences between
Thucydides’ and Herodotus’ work. Thucydides’ claim of the superiority of his
method over Herodotus is part of the competition between history and (epic)
poetry, while the contrast between the two Fathers of History as formulated
by nineteenth- and twentieth-century historians is still part of the debate on
how Ranke’s wie es eigentlich gewesen (“how things really were”) should be
interpreted.90 Yet “serious Greek historical writing was about contemporary
history (…) [for] the past cannot yield nothing more than paradigmatic support
for the conclusions one has drawn from the present; the past (…) may still be
treated in the timeless fashion of myth”:91
One might almost say that in ancient Greece there were no historians in
the sense in which there were artists and philosophers; there were no
people who devoted their lives to the study of history; the historian was
only the autobiographer of his generation[.]92
This, then, is the sort of man a historian should be: fearless, incorruptible,
free, a friend of free expression and the truth, intent, as the comic poet
says, on calling a fig a fig and a trough a trough, giving nothing to hatred
or to friendship, sparing no one, showing neither pity nor shame nor
obsequiousness, an impartial judge, well disposed to all men up to the
point of not giving one side more than its due, in his books a stranger
and a man without a country, independent, subject to no sovereign, not
reckoning what this or that man will think, but stating the facts.94
92 R.G. Collingwood: The Idea of History. Oxford 1946 26 f., quoted by Finley 1975 31.
93 Lucian’s How to Write History is “nothing but a concoction of the rules and maxims
which had become the commonplaces of a rhetorical education, a shallow and essentially
worthless pot-boiler”: Finley 1975 12 (= Myth, Memory and History. History and Theory 4
[1965] 282–302 283).
94 Lucian, de hist. conscr. (How to Write History) 41, eds T.G. Page et al., trans. K. Kilburn, Loeb
edn. Cambridge, Mass.-London 1959.
95 Quotings from Jenkins 1993 13ff.
96 Jenkins 1993 8f.
136 chapter 5
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2.5 46 2.108 76
2.8.3 12 2.110 28, 44, 45, 51, 64, 80, 120, 121
2.11m 28 2.111 74, 132
2.12 28 2.120 132
2.15–28 47 2.121 108
2.18 47, 83 2.125 55
2.19–20 63 2.127 28
2.20–23 47 2.132 60
2.20–22 63 2.134 28
2.22 28 2.136 74
2.23 92 2.137 28, 29, 44, 45, 51, 73, 75, 78,
2.28 28, 47 80, 86, 98, 120, 121, 122
2.28–34 83 2.137–140 78
2.29 9, 47, 56, 83 2.139 28, 29, 44, 45, 51, 73, 78, 80,
2.29–31 6, 30–32, 41, 44, 46, 50, 51, 52, 86, 98, 120, 121, 122, 132
84, 120, 121, 122 2.140 28, 73
2.30 16, 80, 90, 91 2.141 90, 123, 124
2.31 91 2.142 61
2.32 83 2.143 12, 62
2.35 99 2.145 133
2.35–98 46, 54, 82 2.146 28, 112
2.37–76 46 2.147 80
2.41 118 2.147–148 18, 75
2.42 28, 30, 44, 46, 51, 82, 120 2.147–182 80
2.43 133 2.148 55
2.46 60 2.150 55
2.47 60 2.151–152 18, 75
2.48 60 2.151–153 74
2.51 60 2.152 29–30, 44, 45, 51, 73, 74, 79,
2.55 83 80, 120, 121
2.61 60 2.160–161 80
2.62 60 2.161 30, 44, 46, 50, 51, 80, 120
2.77 13, 61 2.162 132
2.81 60 2.164–168 90
2.83 99, 122 2.169 132
2.85–88 108 2.170 60
2.86 28, 60 2.171 60
2.91 55, 132 2.176 28
2.92 48 2.178 55, 103
2.99 54, 60 2.178–180 55
2.99–182 46, 73, 120 Book III
2.100 28, 56, 57, 59 3.1–38 94
2.102–110 65 3.4 108
2.104 28 3.5 97
2.106 28 3.11 78
162 index locorum