Architecture, Astronomy and Sacred Landscape in Ancient Egypt 9781107248670, 9781107032088

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Architecture, Astronomy and Sacred Landscape in Ancient Egypt This book examines the interplay between astronomy and dynastic power in the course of ancient Egyptian history, focusing on the fundamental role of astronomy in the creation of the pyramids and the monumental temple and burial complexes. Bringing to bear the analytical tools of archaeoastronomy, a set of techniques and methods that enable modern scholars to better understand the thought, religion and science of early civilisations, Giulio Magli provides in-depth analyses of the pyramid complexes at Giza, Abusir, Saqqara and Dahshur, as well as of the Early Dynastic necropolis at Abydos and the magnificent New Kingdom Theban temples. Using a variety of data retrieved from studies of the sky and measurements of the buildings, he reconstructs the visual, symbolic and spiritual world of the ancient Egyptians and thereby establishes an intimate relationship among celestial cycles, topography and architecture. He also shows how they were deployed in the ideology of the Pharaoh’s power in the course of Egyptian history. Giulio Magli is Full Professor at the Faculty of Civil Architecture of the Politecnico di Milano, where he teaches the first archaeoastronomy course established in an Italian university. He holds a PhD in astrophysics, and his research today focuses on archaeoastronomy and the relationship between architecture, landscape and astronomy in ancient Egyptian, Incan and Bronze Age Mediterranean cultures. In addition to his many papers in this field, he is the author of Mysteries and Discoveries of Archaeoastronomy (2009) and is one of the co-authors of the recent UNESCO-IAU thematic study on astronomy and cultural heritage. He has served as visiting scientist at the Polish Academy of Sciences and the Tata Institute of Fundamental Research in Bombay, India, and has spoken at numerous international conferences on relativistic astrophysics, as well as on the role of astronomy in ancient cultures. His research in archaeoastronomy has been reported in National Geographic and Discovery News and on CNN.

Architecture, Astronomy and Sacred Landscape in Ancient Egypt Giulio Magli Politecnico di Milano

32 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10013-2473, USA Cambridge University Press is part of the University of Cambridge. It furthers the University’s mission by disseminating knowledge in the pursuit of education, learning and research at the highest international levels of excellence. www.cambridge.org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9781107032088 © Giulio Magli 2013 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge University Press. First published 2013 Printed in the United States of America A catalog record for this publication is available from the British Library. Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication data Magli, Giulio, 1964– Architecture, astronomy and sacred landscape in ancient Egypt / Giulio Magli. p.  cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-1-107-03208-8 (hardback) 1.  Architecture, Egyptian.  2.  Archaeoastronomy – Egypt.  3.  Egypt – Religion. 4.  Egypt – History – 332–30 BC  5.  Egypt – Antiquities.  I.  Title. NA215.M33  2013 932′.01–dc23    2012046779 ISBN 978-1-107-03208-8 Hardback Cambridge University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Web sites referred to in this publication, and does not guarantee that any content on such Web sites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Contents

List of illustrations

page vii

List of photographs

ix

Introduction

1

Part One

5

1

A land for eternity 1.1 A land for eternity 1.2 Equipped for eternity 1.3 The first monumental architecture of ancient Egypt 1.4 The first sacred landscape of ancient Egypt Box 1.  The apparent motion of the celestial bodies in the sky

2

A king who looks at the stars 2.1 From Abydos to Saqqara 2.2 From mudbricks to stone 2.3 The Pyramid Texts and the sky 2.4 A king who looks at the stars Box 2.  Ancient Egyptian astronomy

3

The lords of the horizon 3.1 The first Snefru project 3.2 Snefru is rising 3.3 The Great Pyramid 3.4 The Great Pyramid and the stars 3.5 The second great pyramid of Giza 3.6 The orientation of the fourth dynasty pyramids 3.7 The horizon of Khufu Box 3.  The Seked and the pyramid’s slopes

4

A mirage from Heliopolis 4.1 A mirage from Heliopolis 4.2 The Menkaura project 4.3 The star pyramids and their enigmas

7 7 11 14 20 25 31 31 36 42 48 53 57 57 61 71 78 83 89 93 101 105 105 111 115

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Contents

5

Sons of the sun god 5.1 A new horizon for Snefru 5.2 The stronghold of Ra 5.3 Close to the soul of Ra 5.4 The Niuserra project 5.5 Stars from Heliopolis Box 4.  Solar eclipses

6

The lost pyramid 6.1 6.2 6.3 6.4

The Unas project Teti and Userkara In search of a lost pyramid Pyramids and landscapes of power: A look back at the Old Kingdom

Part Two

7

Renaissance at the winter solstice 7.1 7.2 7.3 7.4 7.5

8

Renaissance at the winter solstice Kings from the south The topography of the beyond The Amenemhet III project Sentinels of power

A valley for the kings 8.1 8.2 8.3 8.4 8.5

9

A new renaissance A valley for the kings The Hatshepsut projects The sanctuary of the south My face is yours

The Horizon of the Aten 9.1 9.2 9.3 9.4

10

The dazzling sun disk The Amarna sacred space The Horizon of the Aten A message of power

The last of the greats 10.1 A divine king … 10.2 … and his divine child 10.3 The temples of millions of years 10.4 The end of an era and its inheritance

121 121 125 132 136 140 143 145 145 148 150 155 159 161 161 165 171 174 178 184 184 187 191 193 199 203 203 208 211 214 218 218 223 225 232

Appendix

239

Chronology of the first 20 dynasties

243

Notes

247

References

255

Index

269

Illustrations

1.1 1.2 1.3 2.1 2.2 2.3 3.1

3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6 3.7 3.8 4.1 5.1 5.2 6.1 7.1

7.2

Map of Egypt page 8 The sacred landscape at Abydos 21 The royal enclosures and the corresponding royal tombs at Abydos 23 Map of Saqqara 32 Map of the main elements of Djoser’s complex 38 The constellations close to the north celestial pole as seen from the area of Memphis in the twenty-sixth century BC 52 Geographical location of the Snefru pyramids at Seila, Meidum and Dahshur and of the twelfth dynasty pyramids at Lisht, Lahun and Hawara 58 Plan and sections of the Bent Pyramid 63 Schematic map of the Giza necropolis 73 Schematic section of the Great Pyramid 75 A schematic representation of the astronomical alignments of the four shafts of the pyramid of Khufu 80 Plan of the temples of the second pyramid of Giza 85 The simultaneous transit of Kochab and Mizar in the northern sky of Giza around 2500 BC 91 The astronomical alignments of the valley temples of the two main pyramids of Giza 99 The Giza axis 106 Inter-visibility between the pyramids of the Memphite area and Heliopolis 131 Schematic map of the Abu Gorab–Abu Sir area 135 Map of the monuments of Saqqara and Saqqara south 154 The area of Thebes, with the position of the two pairs of temples located, at the beginning of the Middle Kingdom, as the northernmost and southernmost landmarks 162 The interior apartments of the pyramid of Amenemhet III at Hawara 171

viii

List of illustrations

7.3 8.1 8.2

Schematic map of the Dahshur central field Map of western Thebes Plan of Karnak and Luxor temples, connected by the Sphinx alley 9.1 Schematic map of the funerary landscape of King Akhenaten 10.1 Map of the Osireion, Abydos Box Figure 1.1  The azimuths of the sun at rising and setting for the latitudes of Egypt Box Figure 1.2  The motion of the stars in the sky as seen by an observer at Egypt’s latitudes Box Figure 1.3  The region of the north celestial pole as seen from Memphis about 2600 BC Box Figure 1.4  The region of the north celestial pole as seen from Memphis today All illustrations are by Emanuela Franzoni

180 186 194 214 220 26 27 29 29

Photographs

1.1 Western Thebes. Depiction of the Opening of the Mouth ceremony from Tutankhamun’s tomb in the Valley of the Kings page 13 1.2 Abydos. The Shunet el Zebib 16 2.1 Saqqara. The Djoser Step Pyramid 41 2.2 Saqqara. Pyramid Texts carved on the walls in the antechamber of the Teti pyramid 44 2.3 Saqqara. The Serdab of the Djoser Step Pyramid complex 49 2.4 Saqqara. A king who looks at the stars: Djoser’s statue viewed from one of the holes of the Serdab 50 3.1 Meidum. The pyramid viewed from the east, with the funerary temple in the foreground 59 3.2 Dahshur. The Bent Pyramid 62 3.3 Dahshur. The north face of the Red Pyramid 65 3.4 Giza. A view from the east of the Great Pyramid (foreground), with Khufu’s queens’ pyramids on the left and Khafra’s and Menkaura’s in the background 71 3.5 Giza. A picture, taken from the north, of the west side of the second pyramid, with Menkaura’s north face in the background 83 3.6 Giza. A front view of the Khafra valley complex 87 3.7 Giza. A view of the T-shaped granite hall of the Khafra valley temple 88 3.8 Giza. The ascending corridor inside the Khafra valley temple 96 3.9 Giza, summer solstice 2011 97 4.1 Giza. A photograph taken from the first of Menkaura’s queens’ pyramids, looking north-east along the Giza axis 110 4.2 Giza. The Menkaura pyramid towers at the horizon when viewed from the causeway 114 4.3 Abu Roash. The view towards Giza on a clear day 116

x

List of photographs

4.4 Abu Roash. The huge pit of the unfinished Djedefra pyramid 5.1 Saqqara south. The Mastaba el Faraun viewed from the east 5.2 Saqqara south. The view towards Dahshur from the area of the Pepi I queens’ pyramids 5.3 Giza. The funerary monument of Queen Khentkaues 5.4 Abusir. The pyramid of Sahura seen from the causeway 5.5 Abusir. A photograph taken from the west side of the pyramid of Neferefra 5.6 Abusir. The pyramids of Neferirkara (right) and Niuserra (left) from the south-east 5.7 Abu Gorab. The sun temple of Niuserra 5.8 Abu Gorab. The view towards the Abu Sir pyramids of Sahura, Neferirkara and Niuserra from the upper terrace of Niuserra’s sun temple 6.1 Saqqara. The pyramid of Unas seen from one of the boat pits located along the causeway 6.2 Saqqara. A picture taken from the south of the Unas pyramid (foreground) 6.3 Saqqara south. The remains of the Pepi I pyramid 7.1 El-Lahun. The pyramid of Senwosret II seen from the east 7.2 Dahshur. The offering temple of the Bent Pyramid, with the pyramid of Amenemhet III in the background 7.3 Hawara. The pyramid of Amenemhet III 7.4 Dahshur. The pyramid of Amenemhet III seen from the valley temple of the Bent Pyramid 8.1 Western Thebes. The Valley of the Kings 8.2 Western Thebes. The terraces of the Hatshepsut temple at Deir el Bahri 8.3 Luxor. The Ramesses II pylon of the temple seen from the final section of the Alley of the Sphinxes 8.4 Luxor. The axis of the Amenhotep III colonnade of the Luxor temple viewed from the back end 8.5 Karnak. The temple axis at sunset 8.6 Giza. The sun sets behind the Sphinx 9.1 Western Thebes. The so-called Colossi of Memnon 9.2 Amarna. The (reconstructed) Small Temple of Aten 9.3 Amarna. The Akhet of the Aten (photograph courtesy of Marc Gabolde) 10.1 Abydos. Light and shadow effects in the temple of Seti I 10.2 Abydos. The Osireion 10.3 Abu Simbel. The innermost chapel of the temple of Ramesses II

117 122 123 126 133 136 137 138

140 146 147 151 169 175 176 182 187 192 195 198 200 201 205 211 213 219 222 225

List of photographs

10.4 10.5 10.6 10.7

Western Thebes. The colonnade hall of the Ramesseum Western Thebes. The fallen colossus in the Ramesseum Medinet Habu. The first pylon of the Ramesses III temple Medinet Habu. The straight axis of the temple as viewed from the end chapel 10.8 Edfu. The Pharaoh and the goddess Seshat perform the ceremony of the Stretching of the Cord (Ptolemaic epoch) All photos by the author except Photo 9.3.

xi

226 227 228 231 237

Introduction

Few landscapes on earth are more spectacular than the verdant Nile Valley. Bordered by endless desert, it is dotted with some of the most imposing monuments ever built by man: huge pyramids, gigantic temples, and also strange structures which are difficult to classify, such as the huge tomb of the Pharaoh Shepsekaf at Saqqara or the so-called Osireion at Abydos. With the passing of the centuries, and with the construction of so many monuments one after another, Egypt gradually became an extremely complex and extraordinarily beautiful landscape. This landscape was modelled by men according to precise criteria to create a conceptual, sacred landscape which was also a landscape of power since it was conceived and built to stand witness to the power and divinity of the Pharaohs and to their claims on the afterlife. This book is a journey in time and space, its aim being to visit this landscape and learn about the ideas of its builders. Our visit will therefore be cognitive. This means that we shall be using architecture as a starting point for penetrating the minds of those extraordinary people who built such extraordinary monuments. We shall attempt to visit what remains of the ancient Egyptians’ human-made landscape, searching for the builders’ feelings and thought processes in the tangible records of their architectural achievements. Probing the minds of ancient architects is no easy task. It means grasping their symbolic world. This means religion, of course, but also knowledge: geometry, cosmology and so on. It means understanding social organisation, as well as temporal power. Of course, a book positing a cognitive approach to ancient Egyptian architecture with such a variety of objectives would be, quite simply, an insane project. It is therefore necessary to choose one suitable, specific key, and an extremely powerful

2

Introduction

key to ancient Egypt is astronomy, or rather archaeoastronomy. Modern archaeoastronomy is the science devoted to the study of the knowledge of the sky in ancient times as reflected in architecture and landscape. It is an indispensable tool in understanding Egypt, given that celestial matters were, for the ancient Egyptians, deeply and intimately connected with the most important thing of all: preserving Maat, the cosmic order, on Earth. Such an order was anchored to the celestial cycles: the cycle of the sun, the calendar, the succession of the hours of the night, and the reappearance of Sirius and of the other stars. It was the regularity and predictability of the cosmic order, assured on earth by the existence of a living god, the Pharaoh, that held the country together in the three great periods, or kingdoms, we shall see in this book. The overriding importance of the sky meant that many of the buildings constructed in Egypt from very early times were themselves anchored to the celestial cycles. For instance, funerary beliefs regarding the afterlife of the deceased Pharaoh during the Old Kingdom were connected both with the circumpolar stars and with the sun god. Thus the royal tombs, the pyramids, in a sense solar symbols themselves, were anchored to the points of the compass, and their annexed temples contained solar alignments. Even today, such solar alignments are remarkably effective and give rise to spectacular hierophanies on certain special days of the year. The most impressive of these is that occurring at Giza, at sunset on the day of the summer solstice, when the sun together with the two giant pyramids re-creates the symbolic hieroglyph “horizon” or Akhet, which is also the name of the Great Pyramid. The main focus of study of archaeoastronomy is thus the analysis of astronomical alignments and their possible significance. The cognitive “astronomical” approach to ancient Egypt I intend to employ in this book, however, has a far broader scope. Indeed, the methods of archaeoastronomy can be used to analyse conceptual landscapes even when their cognitive aspects do not relate to the sky. In particular, topographical alignments to prominent natural landmarks or sacred places may be studied. In some cases – as we shall see – they play a fundamental role in understanding the main features of places as important as Western Thebes, Giza and Amarna. It goes without saying that writing a book running chronologically through the cognitive astronomical aspects of some two millennia of architecture would still be an insane project if applied to our “Western”

Introduction

civilisation. It would entail following architecture as it undergoes an enormous number of abrupt changes and inventions. However, the flow of human time in ancient Egypt was totally different from ours. As a consequence, symbols, patterns and even entire landscapes were constantly re-created, renewed and reinterpreted without radical conceptual changes throughout the whole of Egyptian history. The present book is the result of almost 15 years of scholarly research on this subject. My original background is, however, in astrophysics. As a physicist, I am among those who most baulk at “hidden legacies”, “mysterious encodings” and so on, and one of the aims of this book is to show that the symbolism of the sacred landscape in Egypt is not hidden or esoterically concealed, as an alarmingly vast nonscientific literature has sought to contend since the nineteenth century. Quite the contrary, even today we can try to read many of the messages of pride and power embodied in the architecture bequeathed to us by the Pharaohs. A note of caution is warranted, though. Receiving messages from the ancient past presents us with a most exciting intellectual challenge – the need to alter our mindsets, and try to think as they did. Let us accept this challenge, then, and set out on our journey.

3

Part One

The sky is clear, Sirius lives, I am a living one, the son of Sirius, the two Enneads have cleansed themselves for me in Meskhetyu, the Imperishable. My house in the sky will not perish, my throne on earth will not be destroyed. My seat is with you, Ra, and I will not give it to anyone else, I will ascend to the sky to you. Pyramid Texts (PT) 302, §§458, 461 (translation by R. Faulkner)

1 A land for eternity

1.1 A land for eternity Egypt is a unique place. The land consists of a short strip of fertile ­terrain, crossed and vivified by the river Nile, which flows in a south-to-north direction, enclosed as far as its huge delta by rock embankments which keep at bay a seemingly endless desert (Figure 1.1). The only exception along the river, the Fayoum oasis, nestles like a jewel on the west bank, some 100 kilometres south of Cairo. The climate of the country is arid. Rains are rare and usually arrive in the form of rapid storms, but the land is fertile due to the nutritious alluvial soil washed up by the river in the annual floods (today controlled by the Aswan Dam, built in the 1960s). This climate emerged progressively about five millennia ago, more or less contemporaneously with the development of the unified, “dynastic” Egypt which is the subject of the present book. The complex issue of the history, culture and religion of Egypt prior to its unification as a single kingdom will therefore be merely alluded to here. It is usual to divide the history of unified Egypt into “dynasties”, a distinction, however, which does not really reflect the ancient Egyptians’ way of sensing the flow of history. They felt, rather, that each Pharaoh’s rule was a distinct historical period, while the division into dynasties was introduced by the Greek historian Manetho and (among other shortcomings) does not necessarily correspond to a change in the parental succession of kings (the way in which a Pharaoh acceded to kingship was not governed by immutable rules, although the eldest son of the main, or “great”, queen seems to have been the preferred successor in many cases). In spite of this, the succession of dynasties does in many

8

Part One

1.1.  Map of Egypt.

A land for eternity

cases match up neatly with what we can gather from archaeological and historical records concerning the main changes and events occurring in Egypt, and therefore its use is customary and will be followed here. As far as chronology is concerned, we have a few documents and inscriptions recording lists of kings and their regnal years, such as the Turin Papyrus (listing up to the seventeenth dynasty) and the Palermo Stone. Found in 1866 at Memphis, it is actually a large piece of an original stela (usually called the Royal Annals) recording also important events, such as the foundation of buildings. However, these documents are not sufficient – especially for the Old Kingdom – to establish with any certainty the dates of the reigns of each individual Pharaoh (in some particular cases, their actual succession is also the subject of debate). Several different chronologies have thus been elaborated by scholars, which in some cases differ considerably in assigning accession dates and lengths of reigns. Recent chronologies are those of Baines and Malek (1981), Von Beckerath (1997), Shaw (2000), Dobson and Hilton (2004) and Hornung, Krauss and Warburton (2006). Fortunately, for the purposes of the present book, knowing the fine details of the kings’ regnal years is not imperative, with the exception of two cases, Shepsekaf and Akhenaten, which will subsequently be discussed in depth. Therefore, I shall adhere strictly to one of these chronologies, that of Baines and Malek (for the ease of the reader, kings’ regnal dates according to this chronology are reported in the Appendix and will be mentioned when appropriate). The Egyptian state was formed through a process of population settlement and growth, with progressively more people being attracted by the fertility of the land (Grimal 1994; Kemp 2005; Shaw 2000). Probably, two kingdoms emerged in Lower and Upper Egypt, respectively, and were finally unified around 3200 BC under a single kingship. We have no way of knowing for sure the extent of such kingdoms and the details of the historical process leading to a unified kingdom – the story of a hero king called Menes who engineered the unification is perhaps only a tale recounted to Manetho. However, what is important for us here is that the endlessly repeated, obsessive idea of “two lands reunited” is a leitmotiv throughout the history of Egypt. It is, in particular, a constant concern of the Pharaohs to present themselves as the kings of Upper and Lower Egypt, protected by the goddesses of Upper and Lower Egypt, wearing the white crown of Upper Egypt and the red crown of Lower Egypt, and so on. Thus, something epic really must have

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Part One

occurred, which remained in the genetic memory of the country. On one hand, the unification of the two lands under the same kingship became an effective symbol of the Pharaoh’s power. On the other, the reversal of the unification process, with the splitting of the two lands, was always a possibility (and indeed occurred in the two intermediate periods), so that the obsessive reference to unification also created a sort of superstitious attitude, insinuating that the only way of keeping order was to keep the country united. This led to the presence of the “duality of the two lands” in countless official expressions of power and, in particular, in architecture and landscape, as we shall see. Whatever the origins of its formation, the kingdom of Egypt enjoyed a first period of extraordinary success and prosperity, which lasted for some 700 years, during the periods usually referred to as Early Dynastic (dynasties 1–2) and Old Kingdom (dynasties 3–6). Salient features of this development were the fertility of the land, an enlightened husbanding of resources and effective administration, but also a process of cultural unification which took place very early on, together with the introduction of writing. The capital – or better, the town which was the main centre of power, and which will be called “capital” henceforth – was probably moved very early from Abydos to the Memphis area, although Abydos remained a seminal cult centre. The figure of the ruler was soon endowed with divine essence. In particular, a fundamental duty that the Pharaohs assigned to themselves was that of keepers of the cosmic order. The cosmic order, or Maat, was a key concept in Egyptian mentality. One could attempt to define it as a mixture of order, truth and justice, but it is easier to say just that Maat was the opposite of Chaos: it was regularity. Maat regulated the world – in particular, the natural cycles and hence the calendar – and was actually identified with a goddess, daughter of the sun god Ra (in later times, she would be responsible for weighing the hearts of deceased people against a feather in order to decide if they were pure enough to be saved in the afterlife). The ideology associated with kingship and power thus designated the king as an intermediary between the gods and humanity. Indeed the Pharaoh himself was a living god; of course, he had to deal, sooner or later, with the little problem of his own death. Clearly, this was bound to create a paradox as regards the exercise of power, also because the doctrine of the living god was enshrined in the foundation of the state, and suffused the entire political order. For this reason, the

A land for eternity

death and the resurrection of a god, Osiris, gradually took hold as the basis of belief in the afterworld. One famous version of the myth has it that Osiris once ruled Egypt as a king but was fought, killed and dismembered by his brother Seth, who scattered pieces of his body in various places. However, Osiris’ sister/wife, Isis, with the help of their sister Nephthys, gathered the pieces and brought him back to life. Osiris and Isis could then have a son, Horus. Osiris became the god of the netherworld. Horus avenged his father’s death by defeating Seth and – as the heir of Osiris – became the rightful king of Upper and Lower Egypt. The mechanism of the myth is extremely effective in laying down a theology that lent itself to the idea of divine kingship, since the deceased Pharaoh was equated with Osiris and, as a consequence, his successor was equated with Horus. The key to such a mechanism was the Pharaoh’s life in the afterworld, and therefore the monuments devoted to symbolising it became increasingly grand and complex, and royal funerary architecture underwent the amazing evolution that we are going to examine. In Assman’s (2003) words: “the pyramids of Giza convey the impression that not only the invention of building in stone but the very foundation of the state itself is associated with the divinisation of the king”. Understanding the nature and evolution of divine kingship in Egypt is thus an undertaking that runs alongside the task of exploring the ideology of royal funerary architecture  – which is the precise aim of this book. 1.2 Equipped for eternity The ancient Egyptians’ ideas about death and the afterlife were formed at an early stage and persisted through the whole course of the Egyptian civilisation, the main noticeable change over the centuries being a process of slow “democratisation” of the possibility of after-living. The afterlife was, in fact, initially reserved to the Pharaoh, but later extended to a progressively larger stratum of people. Physical death, with the body naturally desiccated by the dry climate in ancient times and later embalmed in a sophisticated manner, was the beginning of a magic second life. The mummy, accompanied by the “canopic chest” – a box containing four jars for the viscera – was therefore a sort of quintessential container. The afterworld and the world of human beings have been “in contact” in all cultures and civilisations, and

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Part One

Egypt was no exception. The contact was at a purely magic level: for an ancient Egyptian nothing would have been more absurd than seeing a movie with a revived “walking mummy”, since the afterworld was – pure and simple  – another world. Communications, though fundamental, were purely symbolic: the tombs had a “false door”, and food offerings for the “soul” were left on the altars behind them. The Egyptian soul was actually made up of several distinct natures. The most important was Ka, rendered with the raised arms hieroglyph . Ka was the vital force transferred through lineage  – for the Pharaohs, therefore, it came directly from the gods and, in particular during the fourth and fifth dynasties, from the sun god. The king, as the keeper of cosmic order, was in a sense the keeper of the Ka of the whole nation. After death, the Ka needed to be reactivated in order to establish the connections with the afterworld through the tomb. A crucial role was played also by another “nature” of the soul, the personal soul or Ba . The Ba was endowed with the abilities of a living human being (e.g., eating), which, however, could function only if the body were preserved. Probably the most apt word to use in this context would be that the body and its Ba had to be “enduring”, and indeed I shall come back to this word again in translating the names of the pyramids, which – as we shall see – were the “machines” devoted to such a task. A series of rituals were performed during mummification and funerals, relating to the complex structure of the afterlife, and a series of periodic ceremonies were also required after burial. The funerary temples served this function, many of which carried on the cult of their deceased kings for centuries (as a consequence, in some cases the ancient kings became worshipped as a sort of “local saint” to whom petitions could be made). I shall not enter here into a detailed description of what we know of the funerary rituals but mention just one of them, the one which seems to be most directly related to the sky. This is the “opening of the mouth” (Photo 1.1), which is attested from the Old Kingdom to the Roman period. It was first performed on statues of the deceased housed in a specially prepared room today called Serdab (from the Arabic word) and, later, directly on the coffin or the mummy. There are many depictions of the ritual, but perhaps the most famous is that featured in the tomb of Tutankhamun in the Valley of the Kings at Thebes. The officiant, using special tools, touches the mouth and the eyes of the subject, magically enabling it to receive food and drink, to breathe and to see. The

A land for eternity

Photo 1.1.  Western Thebes. A depiction of the Opening of the Mouth ceremony from Tutankhamun’s tomb in the Valley of the Kings. The successor Ay ritually opens the mouth of the mummy of the deceased with an adze which has the same shape as the constellation of the Bull’s Foreleg (the Big Dipper), a group of “imperishable” stars and one of the main destinations of the afterlife.

magic procedure might have been inspired by real procedures carried out by physicians at birth, such as severing the umbilical cord and forcing the mouth of the baby to stimulate breathing. The ritual implements used are known from both images and kits found as burial equipment in priests’ tombs; interestingly, such implements have also been found in foundation deposits of temples, as if to augur eternal life for the “newborn” architecture. The main instrument was a forked stone or metal blade, called a peseshkaf. Other instruments were adzes or adze-shaped blades, and serpent stone blades. Once in the afterworld, the journey of the deceased was only at the beginning. Indeed he had to ascend to Nut, the sky goddess, a personification of the sky. Nut is usually represented as bending over the earth,

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with a stretched body. The head is in the west, ready to swallow the setting sun and the stars, and the loins are in the east, where celestial objects rise. Reaching the sky, the king finally becomes an Akh, a pure spirit in the ultimate, permanent state, a celestial object which is a companion to Sirius, travels together with the sun god Ra, and has a permanent seat among the circumpolar stars. As we shall see, all such concepts will be incorporated marvellously into the architecture of the most complex monument ever built by humanity, the Great Pyramid of Khufu. However, written descriptions of them date to a slightly later period, that of Unas, the last king of the fifth dynasty, and are the so-called Pyramid Texts (Chapter 2). 1.3 The first monumental architecture of ancient Egypt Imagine scores of people every year visiting a specific, apparently insignificant spot in the middle of a desert bay, for millennia on end. Each of them carries pots for use in rituals, and the pot shards pile up layer by layer over these millennia. A place like this could not be called in Arabic anything other than Umm el Qaab, the mother of pots. Umm el Qaab is in fact the modern name of the Abydos desert landing quay, enclosed between the edge of the cultivation and the foothills of steep mountains, which had been used as a cemetery since predynastic times, and soon became one of the holiest places in Egypt (Kaiser and Dreyer 1982). In about 3200 BC, it began to be used by the kings of the first dynasty as the royal cemetery, and the last two kings of the second dynasty were buried here too. Even when royal burials were definitively moved to the Memphis area, Abydos remained one of the most important sacred centers of Egypt. In the Middle Kingdom, the tomb of the first dynasty king Djer was mistaken – or perhaps camouflaged by someone – for the true tomb of Osiris. A statue of the god was added, as well as an entrance staircase for the ease of pilgrims arriving for a festival in honour of the Lord of the Afterworld. So the site grew in importance and people began to wish to be buried nearby, or to erect a memorial there, to the extent that a king of the thirteenth dynasty, Wegaf, was obliged to enact a law, delimiting, with the help of stone stelae, the boundaries of the sacred land, on which it was prohibited to build further. The area has been divided by archaeologists into two cemeteries, labelled U and B. Cemetery U has been dated to the predynastic era. It

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is here that the most ancient hieroglyphs have been found, inscribed on tablets in the tomb U-j, the burial of a fairly prominent person (Dreyer 1998). Cemetery B houses the royal tombs of the first dynasty. The structure of the tombs is based on a large pit dug into the ground, lined with mudbrick walls. Inside the pit is a funerary apartment consisting of a funerary chamber and additional chambers meant for storing funerary equipment for the afterlife. In some tombs, such a chamber might have been a first version of a Serdab, the room used for the statue of the king. Each tomb had “associated burials” of servants being sacrificed on the king’s death, a practice which would cease at the end of the second dynasty. The pits were covered by low mounds; it is unfortunately unclear if, and to what extent, the mounds signalled the presence of the tombs – perhaps there was a stone stela on top, or in front, of them. Some doubts persist about the first king buried here, who might have been Narmer; the next burials are well attested to – we have the complete list up to Qa’a, the last king of the first dynasty (among them, one tomb is that of a queen, the king’s mother Merneith, next to that of her son, Den, and seems to confirm a special royal status for her). After Qa’a, for unknown reasons, the first kings of the second dynasty chose to be buried at Saqqara (see Chapter 2) instead of using the Abydos cemetery. This decision may have been motivated by the unrest which troubled the reigns up to Peribsen, who returned to the old cemetery, followed by Khasekhemwy (ca. 2650 BC), the last of the kings of the second dynasty and also the last king of the Old Kingdom to be buried there (Petrie 1900, 1901; Kemp 1966). Most, if not all, of the kings buried at Umm el Qaab also constructed, along with the tomb, a monumental mudbrick building in a site about 1 kilometre north of the tombs, not far from the temple of Khentiamentiu, the ancient god of the necropolis, who had been worshipped there since the predynastic period and was later identified with Osiris. However, all but one such building were erased shortly after construction, for some unknown reason, possibly ritual. The foundations of six erased enclosures have been recovered so far (Helck 1972; Kaiser 1969; O’Connor 1999); two of them are anonymous, while the others are attributed (thanks to seals recovered in association with them) to Merneith, Peribsen, Djer and Djet.1 Several secondary burial sites have been found near the walls of the enclosures, providing reasonable evidence of human sacrifice in connection with these structures, and showing their funerary nature.

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Photo 1.2.  Abydos. The Shunet el Zebib, the enormous mudbrick enclosure of King Khasekhemwy, and the Abydos desert quay viewed from the area of the ancient temple of Khentiamentiu.

The enclosures form two rows, ending with the only one still standing, which is also the last in chronological order: Khasekhemwy’s, today called Shunet el Zebib (Photo 1.2). It is difficult to convey the impression given by this building, a veritable cathedral in the desert, standing as the only visible witness to the grandiosity of the first Pharaohs. It is an imposing monument, as its walls still reach 11 metres, and the sides run for 137 and 76 metres. It had two entrances, one near the north corner and another near the east corner. Buried in the surroundings of the enclosure (but perhaps pertaining to the erased one of Aha nearby) was a fleet of as many as 14 boats (the presence of boats associated with burials would become typical in Old Kingdom pyramid complexes, where they are usually interpreted in association with the sun god, due to the descriptions of the sun’s “voyages” in funerary texts). The king is credited also with the construction of the only other Early Dynastic mudbrick enclosure still extant in Egypt, a sort of twin of the Shunet el Zebib. It is the so-called Fort located at Nekhen (Hierakonpolis).2 The Fort is quite similar in conception to the Shunet but smaller, measuring approximately 67 × 57 metres, with walls some 5 metres thick. It is decorated on its exterior with a series of niches

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originally plastered in white; this “palace façade” decoration is strictly associated with kingship and would subsequently be a constant feature of Egyptian art. Despite the modern name, this structure had absolutely no military function. Recent excavations have shown that it enclosed a building entered through a richly ornate doorway, featuring two columns supported by granite bases, which are among the earliest examples of the architectural use of granite in Egypt. The specific function of this building remains vague, but in any case it was probably not funerary. But what about the Shunet and the other Abydos enclosures? The presence of subsidiary burials shows that these really are buildings related to the funerary cult of the king, although not devoted to establishing the cult for times to come, for they were systematically erased. Their interpretation is further complicated by the fact that, until recently, the Abydos enclosures were considered as predecessors of the pyramid complexes. This stemmed from the fact that some remains of a structure inside the Shunet were taken to be a mudbrick-coated mound. The position of this alleged mound was similar to that of the initial mastaba (later “evolved” in the first pyramid) of the Djoser complex at Saqqara (see Chapter 2) and therefore the enclosure, with its mound, was mistaken for a sort of evolutionary step towards the pyramid complexes. The mound inside the Shunet was thought to be an image of a mythical “primeval mound”. This interpretation clearly fulfilled a constant, possibly unconscious, need to see in the evolution of human ideas – and, in particular, in architecture – a linear, slow and reassuring progression. As a consequence, the idea that the enclosures were precursors of the pyramid complexes was rapidly seized on in all major textbooks and scientific papers. Nothing, however, could be more wrong than searching for linearity and gradual progression in something which is by definition nonlinear and usually proceeds with unexpected, unpredictable zigzags: human thought. And indeed, the reassuring idea of the enclosures being predecessors of the pyramids was proved wrong as a result of further excavations (O’Connor 1999, 2009). In these excavations, the alleged proto-pyramid base was revealed as the edge of a completely different structure, a large brick-lined basin. Both the necropolis and the enclosures area of Abydos, when viewed in plan, immediately convey a sense of order. The reason is that topographical and orientation rules were codified and applied with few exceptions during the development of both. The main topographical rule was that added elements had to “move” in a specific manner. The

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enclosures cluster along a three-lane road which “proceeds” to the south-west. The tombs align first on a south-of-west row, which later turns south-of-east. Even more stringent was the orientation rule, applied to all enclosures and all tombs. Generally speaking, we can say that it was inter-cardinal orientation. Inter-cardinal directions are those corresponding to a halving of each quadrant of the compass, and thus are the directions bearing azimuths 45°, 135°, 225° and 315° (see Section 1.1 of Box 1 for the definition of azimuth). For instance, all the enclosures are strictly oriented with the longest sides along the inter-cardinal direction south of east (azimuth 135°); in particular, the azimuth of the longest sides of the Shunet el Zebib is 136°.3 The tombs are all oriented along or near the inter-cardinal directions east of north or west of north (45° or 315°). Clearly, this distribution of the monuments is by no means casual but reflects a precise intention. It is therefore the first time in this book that we encounter an orientation pattern, an important characteristic shared by an entire group of monuments forming a human-made landscape. We are going to meet three main orientation patterns which remained operative during the course of the whole history of ancient Egypt: meridian, solstitial and indeed inter-cardinal. Although monuments oriented in accordance with these patterns can occasionally be found scattered in the whole country, there is no doubt that they have a regional origin and characterisation: meridian orientation is associated with Saqqara (Memphis), winter solstice orientation with Thebes, and the inter-cardinal one clearly characterises Abydos, where it was applied on innumerable occasions in the course of the centuries (for instance, for the orientation of Old Kingdom mastabas and for the Ramesses II temple built some 1000 years later). Unfortunately for us, inter-cardinal orientation is the first pattern we encounter, but also the most difficult to explain. Orienting the sides of a rectangular building at an angle of 45° with respect to the cardinal directions is certainly a deliberate choice. If the building is square in plan, then the corners point to the cardinal directions, as occurs in  – and might have been influenced by  – contemporary Mesopotamian temples (Isler 2001). As a matter of fact, at Abydos, Flinders Petrie (1901), while excavating the royal tombs, found hieroglyph marks signalling the north corners of some tombs. However, as soon as a building becomes truly rectangular, this possibility is lost.

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Orientation might be adjusted to still have a diagonal on the meridian, but this will work as a solution only for special cases; for instance, the azimuth of the “Fort” at Hierakonpolis is 142° and, combined with the proportions of the enclosure, this actually results in the longest diagonal oriented along the meridian. Generally, however, the answer should be sought elsewhere.4 The most likely origin for this orientation pattern is in fact an astronomical one. In this context, an explanation has been proposed that inter-cardinal orientation arose from the wish to “mediate” between the meridian alignment to the north and the direction orthogonal to the Nile (Shaltout, Belmonte and Fekri 2007b). According to this idea, the Egyptian architects would have first determined a meridian line by making astronomical observations of circumpolar stars and then obtained the azimuth of the main axis of the monuments by rotating this direction by 45° or 135°. Since the idea that the Egyptian temples were mainly oriented towards the Nile tends to be overplayed in Egyptological literature, the hypothesis is also a workaround to reconcile Nile orientation with the astronomical one.5 In my view, however, this explanation is too far from what we know about the ancient Egyptian architect’s way of thinking. As we shall soon see, their messages were quite explicit (although sometimes difficult to read today) both in topographical orientations  – for instance to Heliopolis, or indeed to the Nile  – and in astronomical ones. As a matter of fact, another, far more natural astronomical interpretation exists. Inter-cardinal directions are out of the solar and lunar ranges at all latitudes in Egypt, so that neither the sun nor the moon can (or could) ever rise or set along one of these directions. However, an important celestial object which has suitable azimuths actually exists, and it is our galaxy, the Milky Way. To countless cultures, its shape and diffuse luminosity recalled the image of a celestial river slowly flowing like an arc in the sky (Krupp 1997), to the extent that for the Incas the water flowing along the sacred river, the Urubamba, was the same as that flowing in the sky (Urton 1982; Magli 2005b). Egypt is certainly no exception. The importance of the Milky Way in the Egyptian firmament is clear from the Pyramid Texts, and many of its stars were definitely observed and counted among the so-called Decans, the stars used to divide the hours of the night (see Section 2.2 in Box 2). Of course, precession (Section 1.4 in Box 1) changes the rising and setting positions of each single star of the Milky Way – and therefore of the Milky Way itself. The

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brightest, southern part of our galaxy, however – containing the constellations we call Centaurus and Crux, with the brilliant stars Rigil Kent, Hadar and Acrux – can be thought of as a band approximately 10°–12° degrees wide which roughly maintained its presence at the inter-cardinal azimuths (rising near 135° and setting near 225°, with a flat horizon) throughout the whole of the ancient Egyptian kingdoms (Magli 2011b). In addition, a brilliant part of the northern stars of the Milky Way (in particular, Cygnus, with the bright star Deneb) rose and set at the two complementary azimuths (around 45° and around 225°), sharing similar azimuths also with the very bright star Vega (Tables A.1 and A.2). Two particularly impressive examples of orientation to the Milky Way we shall meet in this book are the axis connecting Heliopolis with the south-east corner of the Giza pyramids and the processional path (later Alley of the Sphinxes) connecting Karnak and Luxor, both oriented ~225° but separated in time by about 1000 years. In both cases, the brightest part of the Milky Way was seen to set spectacularly, behind the Great Pyramid in the first case and behind the pylon of the Luxor temple in the second. 1.4 The first sacred landscape of ancient Egypt The royal necropolis at Abydos is the first example of a sacred space, or sacred landscape, that we encounter in this book (Figure 1.2). The concept of sacred landscape is extremely simple and natural. It is so natural for us as human beings that we risk not recognising its presence, as Mircea Eliade (Eliade 1959, 1971) said. To understand it, let us start – as will be the case several times in this book – from a trivial fact. Space belongs to man. Man’s space is, however, a flat space: the surface of the earth. It is by nature homogeneous and indifferent to human thoughts and feelings, something that may strike we human beings as being disagreeable. The possibilities of breaking away from this uniformity come from conspicuous natural features of the landscape, such as rocks, rivers, mountains and so on, or from human-made features. Another possibility is to search for a “third dimension”. On one hand, we have caves, giving access to an underground dimension. On the other, of course, we have the sky. As a consequence, the celestial realms have been watched, feared, exploited, studied and finally framed together with human space in the worldview of every human civilisation: cosmos.

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1.2.  The sacred landscape at Abydos: (1) royal enclosures; (2) processional way; (3) royal tombs of the first dynasty; (4) wadi; (5) mountain of Anubis; (6) Senwosret III tomb (a) and temple (b); (7) Ahmose tomb (a) and pyramid (b).

Cosmos gives order, and order transforms space into sacred space. First of all, cosmos provides orientation. A privileged axis, the axis mundi, springs naturally from the fact that the stars rotate around the celestial pole (Rappenglueck 1999). It is the axis of the world that allows the existence of directions, the “breaking” of spatial homogeneity. The direction determined at the horizon by projecting the axis is naturally privileged for the simple reason that anyone is able to determine it. This privileged direction is associated with the stars and the pole, but also with the sun at culmination to the south. The orthogonal, east to west direction can be found connecting the rising and setting points of the sun or of a star over a flat horizon, for instance a levelled wall. In short, the “world of man” is naturally divided into four equal quarters in accordance with the celestial cycles. As a result of this “cosmisation” process, the space itself becomes ordered, a place which has a centre and which has been founded and prepared for human life: space becomes sacred space. The historian of religion Mircea Eliade (Eliade 1959) was probably the first to understand this mechanism in detail. He wrote: “The

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Experience of Sacred Space makes possible the founding of the world: where the sacred manifests itself in space, the real unveils itself, the world comes into existence.” Power is of course deeply tied up with the cosmos, and so each sacred space, or sacred landscape, is also a landscape of power. In a sense, the construction of a “cosmovision” is also the foundation of temporal order; that is, power. Indeed, anyone who was engaged in activities such as tracking the annual solar cycle, monitoring the cycles of the night stars or establishing the cardinal axes and their centre wielded enormous power (from an ethnographic point of view, the holder of such “spiritual” power is the shaman, custodian of celestial things and mediator between the human and the divine). Order also derives from the connection between the celestial cycles and those of the earth: the flow of time. The cycle of the sun, in particular, is tied up with that of the seasons, hence the fertilisation of the earth and the “rebirth” of plants and fruit. Understanding and framing the flow of time and giving it order also means that time has been “founded” and prepared for human life: time becomes sacred time. Rebirth, in particular, was associated by several cultures with the winter solstice, when the rising sun at the horizon stops moving to the south and the length of daylight stops decreasing. This is not, however, the case with Early Dynastic Egypt, when the Egyptian calendar was formulated (see Section 2.1 of Box 2). Indeed, in the arid climate of Egypt, the natural phenomenon that allowed the “rebirth” of the crops was the inundation of the Nile. This is a gradual phenomenon but usually begins at the end of June. Therefore, it is rather the summer solstice which was identified as the harbinger of the renewal, the main standstill of the celestial cycle; at that time also, the concomitance with the heliacal rising of Sirius was noted. Once the cosmic order was established and ways to measure it devised, the need to control its correct, cyclic evolution arose. Here, monumental architecture comes into play. It is indeed with the human-made, modelled features of the sacred landscape  – temples, tombs or even entire towns – that the sacred is symbolised and, in a sense, controlled. A sacred place is thus also a point of contact, a place where a hierophany  – an explicit manifestation of the divine – occurs. In the Old Kingdom, the sacred space was to be a sort of “exclusive” to the king, the increasing

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1.3.  The royal enclosures (left) and the corresponding royal tombs (right) at Abydos. Monuments in chronological order (two enclosures are anonymous): (1) Narmer; (2) Aha; (3) Djer; (4) Djet; (5) Merneith; (6) Den; (7) Anedjib; (8) Semerkhet; (9) Qa’a – (A) Peribsen, (B) Khasekhemwy.

size and perfection of his tomb being a reflection of his power. Starting from the Middle Kingdom, however, the “divine” temples would acquire importance as physical residences of the gods. In both cases, hierophanies remained fundamental in lending order, and power, to landscapes. Since sacred space was bound up with the divine nature of the king, the sacred landscapes in Egypt were also funerary landscapes, for they were connected with the Pharaoh’s afterlife. In the Egyptian conception in particular, the places to the west, where the sun sets and begins a perilous journey into the hours of the night, were associated from very early times with places of death, and indeed it is on the west bank of the Nile that some of the most spectacular and complex conceptual landscapes of humanity were devised and constructed. As mentioned, the sacred landscape of the royal necropolis at Abydos is the first in chronological order. Like any sacred landscape, it is an ordered one; as we already know, order is based here on inter-cardinal orientation (Figure 1.3). Furthermore, a strict north to south directionality informs the whole space. We can more easily follow it by considering the case of Khasekhemwy, because he is the only king whose enclosure is still standing (for a reason we shall try to understand in Chapter 2). The main elements of the complex are thus seen to be, from

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north to south, the enclosure, a processional pathway, the royal tomb, a wadi, and a hill to the east of the wadi. The cultural landscape thus arises from an interplay between natural and human-made elements (Richards 1999). The human-made part of the Khasekhemwy complex is made up (going from north to south) of the huge funerary enclosure, which denotes the presence of the king’s tomb and was probably devoted to rites in honour of the deceased; a processional route running roughly along the meridian for some 1.5 kilometres leading to the tomb, probably used by the king’s funeral cortège (and, in later times, crossed by scores of pilgrims visiting Osiris’ tomb); and finally the king’s burial place, nesting in the neat rows of the necropolis and perhaps signalled by a stela or a low mound. To the southern horizon of the necropolis, we have the natural elements. These are a huge wadi opening into the Umm el Qaab bay, and a prominent cliff rising to the east of the wadi. The role of both is symbolic; the wadi was a sort of “mouth of the afterworld” and, together with the cliff, was connected with the symbolic hieroglyph -djew . This sign in fact represents two paired peaks and a wadi in between. It is usually translated as “mountain”, although of course there are no natural mountains in the Nile Valley but only the bluffs of the desert ridges, crossed by wadis. The sign is extremely ancient, as it appears already in the seals found in the predynastic tomb U-j at Umm el Qaab, where a “King Elephant mountain” is mentioned (Dreyer 1998). Its connection with the afterlife and, in particular, with Abydos is clear. Indeed, -abw-djew, it appears explicitly in the Abydos name, which was and in curious ritual objects (called Osiris’ reliquary) associated with the Abydos sacred center. Later, in the Middle Kingdom, it was to give the name to the Abydos necropolis of King Senwosret III (located under the hills to the south of the ancient cemetery), which was called -djew-Inpw, “Mountain of Anubis”, Anubis being the jackal god associated with mummification (Wegner 2007a). Finally, in the New Kingdom, in the funerary text called Book of the Gates, the afterworld would be entered specifically from a gate located between a double “mountain of the west”. As far as the Old Kingdom is concerned, we shall soon see how deeply this symbol was linked to nothing less than the two most immense architectural projects humans have ever dared to conceive.

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Box 1.  The apparent motion of the celestial bodies in the sky 1.1  Celestial coordinates The earth rotates on its axis in 24 hours, and moves on an ellipse, with the sun at one focus of it, completing a revolution in 365 days, 5 hours and 49 minutes. As a result of the earth’s motion, all celestial objects are seen as moving by an observer on the earth’s surface. To understand this motion, it is essential to visualise the plane on which the earth moves around the sun, the ecliptic. The earth’s axis is not perpendicular to the ecliptic but inclined about 23½° with respect to it, an inclination – called obliquity – which has only a very slow variation over the course of millennia. The prolongation of the earth’s axis onto the celestial sphere individuates a point in the sky: the north celestial pole (or the south pole, depending on the hemisphere the observer is in; but Egypt is in the northern one). Since the earth revolves on its axis, we see all celestial objects as rotating around the celestial pole. To describe the position of a celestial object, a system of coordinates is needed. The most natural one can be defined as follows. The perpendicular from celestial north to the horizon defines the point we call geographical north. Once geographical north is known, two coordinates, called azimuth and altitude, can be determined. To obtain these for a given point P, imagine tracing the vertical plane which passes through this point. This plane intersects the horizon of the observer at a point A; the azimuth is the angle between north and point A on the horizon, counting positively from north to east, and the altitude is the angle measured on the vertical circle from A to P. In particular, the maximal altitude – or culmination – is reached by a star when it passes the celestial meridian (the ideal projection of the observer’s meridian into the sky). A second system of coordinates is also very useful; it can be understood quite easily if one imagines measuring the latitude and longitude of a point on the celestial sphere. The angular distance of the point from the celestial equator “towards” the pole gives the analogue of the latitude and is called declination; the analogue of the longitude is called right ascension. (continued)

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Box 1.1.  The azimuths of the sun at rising and setting for the latitudes of Egypt. (Cairo is used here as an example.)

1.2  The sun The celestial movement we are most familiar with is that of our star, the sun. The sun rises at a certain point on the eastern horizon, describes an arc in the sky culminating at local noon, and sets at a certain point on the western horizon. The azimuths of the rising and setting points vary each day, following a cycle between two standstills: a northernmost azimuth, which corresponds to the day of the summer solstice, and a southernmost one, corresponding to the winter solstice (Box Figure 1.1). At these two standstills, the sun rises only once a year: these are the days of maximal and minimal daylight time and of maximal and minimal height of the sun at culmination, respectively (since the tropic passes to the south of Aswan, in Egypt the sun never passes the zenith of an observer). At all other points in between the solstices, the sun rises twice a year. In particular, the sun crosses the celestial equator twice a year and therefore has vanishing declination; these days are termed the spring equinox and the autumn equinox. The motion of the sun considered as a point at the horizon and

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Box 1.2.  The motion of the stars in the sky as seen by an observer at Egypt’s latitudes.

measured throughout the year is very slow around the solstices and very fast around the equinoxes. 1.3  The stars Although there are billions of stars in the universe, we can see only a few thousand of them with the naked eye. The brightness of a star is measured in terms of magnitude: the lower the magnitude, the brighter the star. By convention, each star is given a name consisting of a progressive Greek letter followed by the name (or abbreviation of it) of the corresponding constellation. A great number of stars, however, have their own individual names. Among them, there are a few dozen which are exceptionally bright; the five most brilliant are, in decreasing order, Sirius, Canopus, Rigil Kent, Arcturus and Vega. The motion of the stars (Box Figure 1.2) is simpler than that of the sun. The celestial vault is in fact rigid; that is, as seen from the Earth, the relative distance between the stars remains constant (only a few break this rule – Sirius, for example – in that they have a significant motion with respect to the others, called proper motion; however, their movement is in any case extremely slow in comparison with the human life span). The stars situated sufficiently near the pole never set (continued)

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and are termed circumpolar; they are visible for the whole night each night of the year. Stars which rise and set sufficiently near the north may be visible for a certain time each night of the year. The stars sufficiently near the opposite pole never rise and hence are never visible. All other stars have a period of conjunction with the sun during which they are invisible. Every day, stars rise a little earlier, so this period ends with the star rising just before the sun and becoming visible again, for a brief moment. This phenomenon is called heliacal rising. The day after heliacal rising, the star will be visible a little longer, the next day a little longer than that, and so on, as the time of rising starts to move towards the time of sunset. On a certain day of the year, the rising is no longer visible, as the star is already seen at a certain height when the sun sets. The setting time moves towards the hours of sunset up to the final day, when the star can only be seen to set, shortly after sunset. This is called heliacal setting. The cycle of visibility/invisibility then resumes. This cycle can be defined in strict astronomical terms, but in practice it is very difficult to identify a specific day of the year for the heliacal rising of a star, and it is better to think always in terms of a span of a few days (I shall not dwell here on the physical effects – such as parallax and atmospheric refraction – which affect the observation of the stars; for a complete discussion, see Aveni 2001). 1.4  Precession Another motion of the earth, besides the daily rotation, which influences the motion of all stars but is appreciable only over the centuries, is precession. Precession is the rotation of the earth’s axis around the perpendicular to the ecliptic, which completes a (almost closed) circle or revolution every 25,776 years. Since the sun moves on the ecliptic, azimuths of the sun are not affected by precession (they vary slightly over the course of millennia, but due to the variation of the obliquity of the ecliptic itself). Taking precession into account is, however, essential for reconstructing the skies as ancient cultures saw them, since it changes  – slowly but inexorably  – the declination of all the other stars over the centuries. In particular, the north celestial pole moves along a circle; in a certain epoch it may or may not pass near the position of a brilliant star. What we call the “pole star” (Polaris) is

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Box 1.3.  The region of the north celestial pole as seen from Memphis about 2600 BC. The “pole star” is Thuban in the constellation Draco.

Box 1.4.  The region of the north celestial pole as seen from Memphis today. The north celestial pole is close to the familiar star Polaris.

actually the star which the heavenly north pole is near today; during the Old Kingdom the star Thuban of the constellation Draco was an acceptable pole star (See Box Figure 1.3 and Box Figure 1.4), while in the Middle Kingdom and New Kingdom no pole star existed at all (of course, in a few centuries Polaris too will cease to be a pole star). (continued)

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One of the effects of precession is that it changes the background of the stars where the sun rises on a fixed day of the solar year over millennia; in particular, of course, this occurs at the spring equinox. From this comes the term “precession of the equinoxes”, sometimes used as a synonym for precession. If, on one hand, this specific effect might have been noticed by ancient cultures (the most convincing case is that of India; see Kak 1994, 2000), on the other, there is no clear evidence that any special significance was attached to it.

2 A king who looks at the stars

2.1  From Abydos to Saqqara Saqqara is the plateau of the west bank of the Nile, south of modern Cairo, which overlooks the area where the new capital of the kingdom, Memphis, was founded, probably during the first dynasty. Abydos preserved its long-standing tradition of mythical and religious importance, a result of the presence of both predynastic and first dynasty tombs of rulers and kings and also the temple of the god Khentiamentiu – later Osiris – but rapidly lost its political clout. Memphis had been fated to be the capital of Egypt since the early second dynasty and throughout the whole Old Kingdom. Subsequently, it experienced periods of renewed importance during the twelfth dynasty and under several Pharaohs of the New Kingdom. The ancient Egyptians called Memphis the “White Wall”. It was located in a fairly strategic position, which allowed good control of trade routes between the Nile Delta and Upper Egypt; symbolic motivations for the choice of the place may also have played a role (Love 2006). In any case, although it is known with certainty that the area where the ancient capital stood was near the eastern ridge of the Saqqara plateau, the precise location of the Early Dynastic settlement has never been found. The shift of the capital to Memphis is signalled by a corresponding shift of the royal tombs to Saqqara (Figure 2.1). Indeed, at Umm el Qaab there is no evidence of royal tombs for the first half of the second dynasty, while three royal tombs have been unearthed in the Saqqara central field, south of the Step Pyramid complex. Before discussing them, however, we must touch on a delicate issue.

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2.1.  Map of Saqqara (numbering of the monuments is in chronological order): (1) Early Dynastic mastabas; (2) Gisr el Mudir and corner of the Ptahhotep enclosure; (3) Djoser Step Pyramid; (4) pyramid of Sekhemkhet; (5) Mastaba el Faraun; (6) pyramid of Userkaf; (7) pyramid of Djedkara; (8) pyramid of Unas; (9) pyramid of Teti; (10) pyramid of Pepi I; (11) pyramid of Merenra; (12) pyramid of Pepi II.

Scattered in a theatrical manner on the ridge of the Saqqara plateau, and therefore forming a sort of skyline for Early Dynastic Memphis, are a series of elaborate monuments. They are usually called mastabas, although their interior structure is more refined than the Old Kingdom tombs usually styled thus. Rather, the constructional techniques of these tombs are comparable to those used in the royal tombs at Umm el Qaab, and their size is in most cases greater. They are identified with progressive numbers. The earliest appears to be the one numbered 3357, dated to the reign of Aha; later, many others were built throughout the first dynasty. Many such tombs have special characteristics; for instance, Mastaba 3038 had an eight-step brick structure similar to a small stepped pyramid, while Mastaba 3504 was surrounded by a sort of bench decorated with clay models of bulls’ heads adorned with real horns. In most of these tombs, inscribed materials have been recovered, such as tablets and other objects, which let us assign their construction to the reign of a specific first dynasty ruler. In a few of them, names of queens and/ or functionaries also appear. So, to whom do these tombs belong? This problem has been the subject of substantial debate. Initially, a theory was put forward that the tombs at Umm el Qaab were actually cenotaphs built by the kings in the holy place of Abydos, and that the true first dynasty royal tombs were these in Saqqara. The concept of cenotaph will accompany us throughout the whole book. Cenotaphs can be defined as symbolic, nonfunctional tombs aimed at ensuring the presence of the deceased king’s spirit in places considered

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sacred or powerful (Lehner 1999). The problem is that, although it is strongly suspected that many important structures and even huge pyramids built in Egypt were cenotaphs, few monuments can be assigned to this category with certainty. Among these is the so-called Bab el Hosan. Discovered intact by Howard Carter on 10 March 1900, it is the cenotaph of the great king of the eleventh dynasty Mentuhotep II, located in a chamber at the end of an underground structure on the terrace of his funerary complex at western Thebes (Chapter 7). In the chamber were found a seated statue of the king about 2 metres high, completely wrapped in linen and wearing the red crown of the north, as well as an empty wooden coffin. The cenotaph theory for the Abydos tombs is based on the notion that the Saqqara mastabas are bigger and more elaborate. Objectors to such a theory reply that in Abydos not only the tombs but also the enclosures have to be added, thus creating even vaster funerary complexes. As a consequence, it has been suggested that perhaps the mastabas of Saqqara are the true cenotaphs. Finally, a sort of consensus was reached that the kings were buried in Abydos, and that the Saqqara mastabas are tombs of the elite; that is, they belong to the highest officials of state administration in Memphis. Although some names of officials actually appear in the Saqqara mastabas, their architecture is so sophisticated that this theory looks doubtful. So what are they? As a matter of fact, in recent years the debate has become heated again (Cervello-Autuori 2002; Morris 2007; O’Connor 2005), and yet another theory has been proposed, which looks to be the most sound. According to this theory, the Saqqara mastabas are tombs of the royal family. By constructing the tombs like a stage set, as a sort of skyline for the ancient capital, the kings assured their presence in the necropolis with a tangible “piece” of their own blood, although they were buried in the old holy place at Abydos with all due piety. So, in a sense, these mastabas are really cenotaphs, but not meant to house any “soul” of the king – they are simply intended to be a sign of his power in a powerful place. Archaeoastronomy helps in corroborating this interpretation since, at least in my view, it is certain that the mastabas cannot be royal tombs, for the simple reason that they are oriented only on the base of the topography of the “skyline” above Memphis, without any astronomical symbolism. A funerary chamber which is not symbolically oriented cannot be the tomb – real, symbolic, or whatever – of a king of

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the two lands. On the other hand, as symbols of power they do not need to be symbolically oriented. With the beginning of the second dynasty, the kings really left Umm el Qaab and moved to Saqqara for their burials. The three royal tombs so far identified are located in an area which was heavily rebuilt by the later Pharaoh Unas, so we cannot rule out that other royal burials might be found nearby in the future. Tomb A probably belongs to King Hotepsekhemwy and is the largest. Its entrance can be seen as a straight tunnel very close to the east side of Unas. The corridor, carefully cut into the rock, leads to the burial chamber and to an incredible number of storehouses and subsidiary chambers, some of them still sealed with mudbrick walls and containing wine jars and animal bones at the moment of discovery at the beginning of the twentieth century. Tomb B, similar but slightly smaller than tomb A, probably belongs to Ninetjer. It is located to the east of tomb A and lies under the causeway of the Unas complex and a mastaba tomb of one of his dignitaries. A further tomb, Tomb C, has recently been discovered underneath the tomb of a New Kingdom official. The identity of the occupant, however, is uncertain. No superstructure, if it existed, has survived. The entrance corridors of these tombs are oriented to true north. We thus encounter at Saqqara a new orientation pattern: meridian orientation. This pattern will be our companion for almost the whole book, and it also has – in this case without a shadow of a doubt, as we shall shortly see in full detail – a strong astronomical connection. Of course, the presence of the funerary enclosures at Abydos, associated with burials both for the kings of the first dynasty and for the last kings of the second dynasty, prompts the question as to whether the rulers buried at Saqqara in between also built funerary enclosures. As a matter of fact, the remains of two enigmatic precincts exist to the north-west of the royal Saqqara tombs. One, sometimes called the Ptahhotep enclosure due to its proximity to a later tomb of an official with this name, is located to the west of the Step Pyramid. Only the south-west corner of this enclosure is recognisable, and it is unclear if the structure was finished – or perhaps erased. The other is the so-called Gisr el Mudir, a very large rectangular area (650 × 400 metres) delimited by double-curtain stone walls filled with sand and rubble, astonishingly thick (more than 15 metres). Whatever it was meant to be, the design of this enclosure was probably not rectangular but had a sort of indentation to the west, so

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that in plan the monument recalls the hieroglyph -h (court enclosure, reed shelter), as does the “dry moat” of the Step Pyramid (see Section 2.2). The Gisr el Mudir has not been studied satisfactorily, but in any case  – unlike the Abydos enclosures  – no subsidiary graves have been found to allow dating by means of pottery or remains of kings’ seals. Late second dynasty pottery associated with it has been recovered, but nothing linking it to the owners of the royal tombs in Saqqara. Given this situation, and bearing in mind that King Khasekhemwy is credited in the Palermo Stone with the foundation of a stone building (year 4 of his reign), the most recent investigators of the structure attribute it to this king. However, the building referred to in the Royal Annals (called Shelter of the Gods) is, at least in my view, much more likely to be identified with the “palace” of the Hierakonpolis Fort. Indeed, the passage in the Royal Annals mentions, with regard to this building, the ceremony of foundation called The Stretching of the Cord (see Chapter 3), and a granite door jamb (unfortunately badly damaged) depicting the king while performing the ceremony has in fact been found at Hierakonpolis (Engelbach 1934). On a more general note, I have strong doubts about the Gisr el Mudir monument being from the second dynasty. An important factor in interpreting these two structures is in fact orientation. The visible sides of the Ptahhotep enclosure appear to have been deliberately oriented to the cardinal points with precision, like the royal tombs. The Gisr el Mudir is instead oriented ~8° west of north, as is the third dynasty complex of Sekhemkhet. As we shall see, this corresponds to a shift in the orientation pattern which is typical of – and limited to – the third dynasty monuments. Thus, the Ptahhotep enclosure is probably a second dynasty monument, while the Gisr el Mudir is a (perhaps unfinished) monument of the third dynasty. This idea is confirmed by a set of geometrical relationships which connect relevant features of these monuments (Swelim 1991). In particular, it appears that the corner of the Ptahhotep enclosure was used as a handy station to help survey measurements for the Gisr el Mudir and Djoser’s complex, both of which therefore must have been constructed later.1 Does the orientation to true north, concomitant with the shift to the second dynasty and the shift to Saqqara, also mark a development in funerary ideas and beliefs? We cannot be sure. However, orientation to true north was related to – and achieved with the help of – the stars

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close to the north celestial pole, and a stellar component of the afterlife would shortly appear. A first clue in this direction comes from the names of the royal foundations and tombs. Royal foundations were “estates” established by each king of the first three dynasties to support his mortuary cult. Some of them would last for a considerable time, and Djoser’s would endure up to the end of the New Kingdom. Each foundation had a name, formulated as a statement about the god Horus and thus about the king, who was his embodiment on earth. By extension, their names can be given to the king’s tomb, since the ideological justification for such royal foundations was clearly divine kingship. Many such names are known from seal impressions found in royal and elite tombs of the period (Kaplony 1963). The earliest is Horus who advances the mountain, from the reign of Djer, followed by Horus flourishes (probably Djet’s), Merneith’s Horus first of the corporation (of gods), Anedjib’s Horus star of the corporation, Semerkhet’s Horus holy of the corporation and Qaa’s Horus the gold one of the corporation. The last three names of the first dynasty thus use a standardised formula. At the beginning of the second dynasty, with the shift to Saqqara, the formula changes. Hotepsekhemwy indeed called his domain Horus risen as a star. Those of Nebra and Ninetjer are not known, while the general nonconformity of Peribsen’s reign is reflected in the unusual name given to his domain, reading something like Boats of the sovereign. Finally, Khasekhemwy and Djoser return to a stellar epithet: Horus, the star of souls and Horus, the foremost star of the sky, respectively. Since Djoser’s tomb was also the first pyramid ever constructed in Egypt, this name appears in the first row of many lists of the known pyramid’s names (see, for example, Quirke 2001). However, this unfortunately generated many rumours about the fact that Djoser’s complex might be identified in some sense with a specific star, something that, in view of the preceding discussion, looks very unlikely. Rather, these stellar names show an evolving interest in the stars as destinations of the afterlife, an interest which becomes abundantly clear with the Djoser complex. 2.2  From mudbrick to stone The reign of Khasekhemwy marks a restoration of the king’s authority after what must have been a turbulent period under Peribsen, and also marks the political transition to the third dynasty. It is with Khasekhemwy

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that the extensive use of stone in masonry begins; for instance, in the construction of the funerary chamber of the king at Umm el Qaab. However, it was with his successor, Neteryhet – who will be called here by his much more famous name given to him in the New Kingdom, Djoser – that a real breakthrough in the history of architecture occurred in that the passage from mudbrick architecture to stone architecture for the royal funerary complexes became definitive. It was Djoser, in fact, who commissioned one of the most famous complexes of stone buildings in all of human history, the so-called Step Pyramid. An exhaustive description of this wonderful monument is far beyond the scope of the present book; however, it is necessary for us to understand the way it was devised also because its claim to originality has recently been strengthened by the discovery that it had no recognisable precursor in Abydos. From the exterior, Djoser’s complex (Figure 2.2) presents itself as a huge enclosure surrounded by a rectangular limestone wall 10.5 metres high and 1645 metres long. The wall is positioned with the longest sides in an approximately north to south direction (see Section 2.3). It is built with the double-curtain method, with an inner core and fine limestone casing. The outer surface of the wall imitates woven mats and is decorated with niches and 14 false doorways (the significance of the number 14, if any, remains obscure, although the “numerology” of the Djoser complex has given rise to several strange theories). There was only one entrance, located near the south-east corner, from which a spectacular “colonnade” hall whose columns are partly sculpted in the masonry gives access to the inner south courtyard. The interior perimeter wall contains a series of buildings, some of which are “dummies” (purely symbolic), while others are a little more functional. The focus of attention is the first stone pyramid built in Egypt, made up of six superimposed terraces which reach a height of about 60 metres and a volume of more than 300,000 cubic metres. The pyramid covers a complex series of rock-cut galleries, which include Djoser’s burial site. Looking at the eastern side of the pyramid, a curious arrangement of internal blocks can be seen. It is soon clear that at least three different constructions were superimposed one atop the other, the signatures of such constructions being readily recognisable in section. In particular, a portion of stone blocks superimposed on inclined courses is clearly visible. According to many scholars, the number of these stages – or rather, different buildings – was not three but as many as six (Lauer 1936, 1962). At any rate, there is no doubt

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2.2.  The main elements of Djoser’s complex: (1) Step Pyramid; (2) south tomb; (3) Hebsed court; (4) pavilions; (5) Serdab court and “northern temple”.

that the tomb was initially a one-step building, which was enlarged and transformed into a stepped monument. What precisely the initial building was is unclear, since it was squared, while standard mastabas were rectangular in plan, so one might speculate that the project was never modified but followed a precise plan of development. Whatever the truth, the pyramidal form enters into the history of Egyptian architecture for the first time. The pyramid would certainly acquire solar symbolism, but as far as the Step Pyramid is concerned, a reasonably simple explanation seems to be that the objective of the king was to stress the visibility of the monument, and this involved coming up with a new solution for increasing the height: the step structure. As a matter of fact, visibility was assured from a long distance, and even today the unmistakable silhouette of Djoser’s tomb is visible, on clear days, from the Abu Roash hills to the north as well as from the area of ancient Memphis to the east. There is the distinct possibility that the pyramid also represented a “stylised primeval mound”, but this idea is not backed up by previous funerary architecture. The underground chambers and corridors are quite complicated, with scores of galleries – some of them may actually be older and pertain to

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an already existing royal tomb – which were found full of thousands of stone vessels. Most such objects were already old in Djoser’s time, bearing the seals of first dynasty kings. Djoser’s complex was thus also a sort of historical repository, besides acting as a “new vocabulary” of architectural archetypes to be handed down to future generations. The funerary chamber of Djoser, entirely built of granite, was located at the lower end of a huge shaft. It was accessed by a circular opening on the ceiling, closed with a granite drum. The ceilings were first covered with stars designed with the standard five-pointed hieroglyph , as can be seen from fallen blocks scattered around (this kind of ceiling would be revived in the fifth dynasty). In the galleries leading to the burial chamber, panels show the king running or standing during the Sed festival, an event which also recurs obsessively in other parts of the complex. The Sed, or Heb-Sed, festival was a ritual aimed at the symbolic renovation of royal powers, both human and divine, and as such it was also connected with the king’s afterlife. Unfortunately, we do not have a clear understanding of the ritual’s details, in spite of the fact that it maintained its importance throughout the history of Egypt. In any case, it appears that the first such festival was usually held by the king after as many as 30 years of reign. After the first festival, however, apparently the king had to celebrate another every three years. Although these rules were sometimes broken or overlooked, their timing clearly raises the first mystery about the festival – where such a long first period and such comparatively short subsequent periods had their origin – something we simply do not know and which does not seem to be connected with any recognisable astronomical cycle. From what can be inferred from depictions, the rite itself entailed the construction of specific structures and wooden shrines where the king could be worshipped and where he could change dress in order to appear in different forms. A “run” along a circuit symbolising the reunited country was another important part of the ritual, and sometimes the kings are depicted running together with the Apis bull, the most important of the sacred animals worshipped in Egypt, associated with the god of Memphis, Ptah. (Ptah was a very ancient creator god associated with craftsmanship; his bull was considered to be a manifestation of the Pharaoh’s power, engendering strength and fertility.) In the Step Pyramid complex, the Sed festival is alluded to in the structures of the southern courtyard. These structures have been heavily restored, and I must confess that some of the restorations strike me as

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somewhat dubious. In any case, the area consists of a rectangular court flanked by chapels. Its connection with the Sed seems likely, as this area looks like a stone replica of the structures built for the festival, as we know from the iconography. In the northernmost part, another series of similar chapels has been found. We thus start encountering here a typical aspect of the Djoser tomb: “duality”. It is the repetition of similar structures, probably connected with the Pharaohs’ obsession with being king of Upper and Lower Egypt. Duality becomes blatant in the section comprising the two buildings, the so-called north and south pavilions. They were probably related to the two patron deities of the two lands and symbolised the northern and southern parts of the reign. Like the chapels in the sed court, here also the buildings are mostly nonfunctional; they are quite similar, but in the northern one there is an underground gallery accessed from a shaft in the floor. Finally, the duality becomes quite astounding when one realises that a copy of the tomb of the Pharaoh – but deprived of a pyramid – is present as well: the so-called south tomb. The south tomb, protected on the exterior by a frieze of cobras and located to the south of the pyramid, is entered using a staircase. About halfway down, a room contained jars and the pieces of a wooden baldachin. On the meridian of the centre of the pyramid, a huge shaft leads down to the burial chamber, very similar to that of the pyramid and made of pink granite too, but smaller. A copy of the gallery with panels representing the king is also present. In fact, the south tomb is practically finished, and it is likely that it was completed even before the underground galleries of the pyramid. But what was its function? The chamber is too small for a coffin, and consequently several theories have been put forward. Among them, the most feasible is that the south tomb was meant as a cenotaph for the king’s Ka, and thus housed a “double” of the Pharaoh in the form of a statue. The wall of the Step Pyramid complex was surrounded, more or less like a medieval castle, by a huge trench. This “dry moat” is today filled and partly overbuilt by other monuments, but has been documented archaeologically at a few points (Swelim 1991). If it was actually completed, as satellite images seem to show, it was enormous, 750 × 600 metres, and in some parts as wide as 40 metres and as deep as 26 metres. Its perimeter is not closed but resembles, like the Gisr el Mudir, the representing a closed, battlemented precinct with hieroglyphic sign two partly overlapping sides. This “dry moat” might be the first example

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Photo 2.1.  Saqqara. The Step Pyramid of Djoser.

of a winding, symbolic structure related to the afterworld, as would the interior apartments of many Middle Kingdom pyramids later on (of course, a huge amount of material was quarried away from the moat and likely used in the construction of the Djoser complex, so that the moat might also have had a more prosaic functional purpose). It is customary to assign the construction of the Step Pyramid (Photo 2.1) to an individual called Imhotep. Certainly he was, among other titles, overseer of the works of the king and high priest of Heliopolis. Unfortunately, his tomb, which logic dictates should not be far from Djoser’s, has never been found. Therefore, we know little about his life, although a millenarian tradition identifies him also as a physician, and in much later times his figure was worshipped as a patron of healing. It is apparent that Imhotep, or whoever designed the Step Pyramid complex for him, decided to “translate” a series of ancient architectural forms, which were usually executed with perishable materials, into an eternal language: stone (actually, a combination of “archaism and innovation” which was to recur several times in Egyptian history). The ­motivations behind these choices are a difficult nut to crack. To try to gain a better understanding, we must add to ancient architectural ideas the way in

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which they were realised and try to tie this in with corresponding religious beliefs governing the Pharaoh’s afterworld. I will start from a trivial observation. For the first time in royal funerary architecture, what is plainly visible in the Djoser complex was also intended to exist perhaps in eternity, but certainly in the immediate future and beyond. On the contrary, the royal complexes in Abydos comprised the “eternal” – but invisible – tomb and the visible, but ephemeral, enclosures. It is no coincidence that Djoser did not order the destruction of the Shunet el Zebib, thereby allowing us to appreciate this wonderful monument. Djoser decided to live in eternity together with his own monument, and let the same fate be shared by the monument to his father. The way in which the Djoser complex was bequeathed to eternity is quite complicated. We might in fact say that the complex of the Step Pyramid, rather than being built, was progressively sculpted in stone. Not only the pyramid itself was built in stages but also the other buildings of the complex. For instance, the 1680 niches in the exterior walls were carved into the faces of the already laid masonry. The complex thus enjoyed a kind of “real life”, a sort of ageing, during which important structures were first built and then transformed and/or partly buried directly by their constructors. This happened, in particular, for the “dummy” structures, those parts of the complex which were not functional but only symbolic, such as the south tomb and the pavilions. The submerging of dummy buildings must have been a way of sending them to the underworld. Perhaps this was the new way, a substitute for the erasure of the royal funerary enclosures. The same might apply also to the envelopment of the first structure into the nucleus of the pyramid, which resembles a symbolic operation assimilating the building into a fetish, in a sense similar to what happened among the Maya, where subsequent rebuilding of temples included their previous stages as fetishes. As far as the connection of the complex with sky-related notions about the afterlife is concerned, the best place to visit is the north court. Here, a strange, small, apparently odd building contains the answers we are searching for. Before discussing it, however, it is advisable to make a detour some 300 metres to the south-west and some 300 years later. 2.3  The Pyramid Texts and the sky To the south-west of the Step Pyramid complex lies the complex of King Unas, which was constructed about three centuries later. We shall discuss

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the Unas project in Chapter 6. Here, however, it is worth making an advance visit to the king’s burial chambers. The underground structure of the Unas pyramid conforms to what will be a standardised scheme: a descending corridor is followed by a horizontal passage, originally closed by granite slabs. The passage opens into an antechamber, with a storeroom to the east and the burial chamber to the west. A big surprise, however, awaits the newcomer, especially if she or he is used to the ominous dumbness of the walls of all the previous pyramids of the fourth and fifth dynasties, where no text has ever been found. Here, on the walls of the burial chamber, of the antechamber and of a section of the horizontal passage, carefully etched columns of hieroglyph texts are meticulously inscribed. Even to people not acquainted with hieroglyph writings, the obsessive repetition of the cartouche of the king and the frequency of the five-dot star symbol strike the eye. These are among the most ancient religious texts known, and the earliest example known among the Egyptian funerary texts: the so-called Pyramid Texts (PT; see Photo 2.2). They are of fundamental importance in understanding not just the Egyptian religion but also many key aspects of monumental architecture and its relationship with astronomy and landscape. The Pyramid Texts consist of “spells” or “utterances”, different parts of which are present in the different known sources (the texts are known from the Old Kingdom royal pyramids of Unas, Teti, Pepi I, Merenra I and Pepi II, and in those of the queens Wedjebten, Neith and Iput). The first problem is dating. Although the texts first appear in the pyramid of Unas, the fact that they do not make up an organic corpus, but rather a loose collection of disparate discourses, most likely indicates that the material already dated from an earlier period, when it was transcribed. There is therefore a wide consensus about an earlier dating for the texts, although establishing how far back they go is problematic. The Pyramid Texts are numbered according to their position, starting from the back wall of the funerary chamber. It is not clear in which order they should be read, but it is clear that they should be read, since columns begin with “Words to be declaimed”. We have no way of knowing whether there were rituals to be performed simultaneously and what form such rituals might have taken. There is no doubt, however, that the placement of the spells on the walls and the way in which they are carved is not random: the texts “move” from inside the tomb outwards

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Photo 2.2.  Saqqara. Pyramid Texts carved on the walls in the antechamber of the Teti pyramid.

(Barta 1981; Baines 2004). We can imagine Unas’ Ba moving outside from the burial chamber, pronouncing the appropriate spells at each step. The topography of the apartment roughly mimics that of the afterworld described in the texts: the Osiris realm – the Duat, a complex place endowed with guardians, water regions and marshy lands – is the burial chamber, while the antechamber serves as Akhet, a transitional region between the Duat and the sky, just below the horizon.

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Besides rituals, the spells also contain myths and invocations relating to the gods; furthermore, there are magical protections against dangerous beings, and “glorifications”  – that is, spells aimed at assuring the “rebirth” of the deceased – which are the most interesting for us. The main “subject” of the glorification texts is in fact the resurrection of the king and his ascent to the afterlife. In this connection, the sky is cited continuously as a place of frenzied activity, and various crowded areas of it are considered to be of great importance. Most significantly, there are distinct destinations for being reborn. The journey is not easy, given that there are a number of obstacles to be overcome, especially “doors”, often guarded by sentinels, which the deceased can only pass through by correctly answering certain questions. The topography of the afterworld is thus quite complicated, with multiple directions and corresponding destinations. Let us examine them in some detail. First of all, there is the region of imperishable stars which is described as follows (all translations of the Pyramid Texts in the present book are taken from Faulkner 1998): I will cross to that side on which are the Imperishable Stars, that I may be among them. (PT 520, §1223) The doors of the sky are opened for you, the doors of the firmament are thrown open for you, (even) those which keep out the plebs. The Mooring post cries to you, the sun-folk call to you, the Imperishable Stars wait on you. (PT 463, §876)

What could the adjective “imperishable” as applied to a star possibly mean? To understand what imperishable stars are, we start from a thing called Meskhetyu: The Enneads have cleansed themselves for me in Meskhetyu, the imperishable. My house in the sky will not perish, my throne on earth will not perish. (PT 302, §458)

Meskhetyu is usually represented as a bull’s foreleg, a symbol which is often used also as determinative (that is, a nonphonetic hieroglyph used to specify or explain the meanings of a word) together with a star. From the conclusive evidence we have, there is no doubt that Meskhetyu was the constellation we call Ursa Major or – to be precise – the asterism of the Plough or Big Dipper, made up of seven brilliant stars. Indeed it is relatively easy to imagine, as the Egyptians did, these seven stars arranged

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at the border of the bull’s foreleg . Why was the Big Dipper “imperishable”? At the latitudes of Egypt in the third millennium BC, this constellation was (with a flat horizon) circumpolar; that is, none of its stars rose or set. From this observation derives the standard interpretation, which I fully endorse here, that the imperishable stars coincide with the circumpolar ones. Among the circumpolar stars, and besides Meskhetyu, there were two other fundamental constellations in the northern skies, those constellations we call Ursa Minor and Draco. Draco was particularly important during the Old Kingdom because it was at that time – due to precession – hosting the north celestial pole, with a star, Thuban (alpha Draconis) very close to it. From later documents, we know that the ancient Egyptians saw in Draco (or perhaps in a slightly wider zone around the pole) a female hippopotamus. She is usually depicted holding a post, which is perhaps the Mooring Post cited in the Pyramid Texts and corresponds to the constellation Bootes and, in particular, to the brilliant star Arcturus of the northern sky. As far as Ursa Minor is concerned, the form of the Little Dipper is quite similar to that of the Big Dipper, and the Egyptians had a way of indicating the two as similar objects by referring to them as two celestial adzes (Figure 2.3). There is hardly any doubt that these “adzes” had a terrestrial counterpart in the instruments used by the priests in the Opening of the Mouth ritual. Therefore, this ceremony contained symbols of rebirth which were replicas of realms of the afterworld. A fact worth noting in this context is that sometimes the “adzes” are described as being made of iron: I split open your mouth for you with the adze of iron which split open the mouths of the gods. O Horus, open the mouth of this King! (PT 21, §13)

Just as the adze – a replica of the celestial one – is made of iron, so too the king’s bones are iron, and his limbs are the stars: This King ascended when you ascended, Osiris; his word and his double are bound for the sky, the King’s bones are iron and the King’s members are the Imperishable Stars. (PT 684, §2051)

The connection of iron with the sky may appear puzzling at a first glance. However, the iron alluded to here is of meteoritic origin: it was not

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extracted but directly available in small quantities because it had fallen to Earth – from the sky – in the form of iron meteorites. Without doubt the arrival of these rare objects, in flames and accompanied by a thunderous boom, was interpreted as a celestial message; it may be that the whole celestial sphere was thought to be made of the same material as well. A second celestial area which the king will reach is closer to the south and therefore inhabited by stars that rise and set. And indeed also the king, as a star, is destined to rise and set there: King, you are this great star, the companion of Orion, who traverses the sky with Orion, navigates the Netherworld with Osiris; you ascend from the east of the sky, being renewed at your due season and rejuvenated at your due time. (PT 466, §882) You will regularly ascend with Orion from the eastern region of the sky, you will regularly descend with Orion into the western region of the sky, your third is Sirius, pure of thrones, it is she who will guide both of you in the goodly roads which are in the sky in the Field of Rushes. (PT 442, §§821–822)

Here the stars of Orion, the Egyptian’s Sah, and the most brilliant star of the firmament, Sirius, Sopdet of the Egyptians (or Sothis in Greek), are mentioned. Orion is depicted as a celestial dimension of Osiris, and Sirius as his sister Isis. More difficult to decode is the fact that the king becomes a star, a “Great Star” who traverses the sky with Orion. An important star which is “close” to Orion is Aldebaran, the brightest star of Taurus, sometimes represented as being supported by Orion’s right hand in later depictions. Yet it is also true that no mention of the brightest star of the Egyptian sky after Sirius, Canopus, seems to occur. Canopus did not rise “with” Orion, but its heliacal setting occurred at a date included between that of the “lower” bright star of Orion, Rigel, and the “upper” one, Betelgeuse, and some verses about these “stars of the south” almost certainly refer to their heliacal setting. For example: Orion is swallowed up by the Netherworld, Pure and living in the horizon. Sirius is swallowed up by the Netherworld, Pure and living in the horizon. I am swallowed up by the Netherworld, Pure and living in the horizon. (PT 216, §151)

Finally, but no less important, there is the “solar” component of rebirth. The king joins Ra-Atum (the creator version of the sun god) on the sun

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boat, becomes the “lord of the four pillars” (that is, of the four cardinal points), and they cross the sky together: Ra Atum, this King comes to you, an imperishable spirit, lord of the affairs of the place of the four pillars; your son comes to you, this King comes to you. May you traverse the sky, being united in the darkness; may you rise in the horizon, in the place where it is well with you. (PT 217, §152)

Images of this kind, where the Ba of the death is assimilated into the sun, unites with Osiris at night and acquires the ability to be reborn at dawn, were to dominate theology and funerary beliefs in Egypt for millennia. Several other points are worth making with regard to the geography and the inhabitants of the afterworld. In particular, the topography of the Pyramid Texts is completed by a “Winding Waterway” crossing the sky, which can be “flooded”, and by two regions called the “Field of Offerings” and “Field of Reeds”. Clearly, a mirror image of the Nile landscape is perceptible here, and I share the views of many who are convinced that the celestial waterway must be the Milky Way, seen as the “celestial counterpart” of the Nile as well as one of the ­“personifications” of Nut, the sky goddess (Wells 1992, 1994; Kozloff 1994). Indeed, as I have already mentioned, many civilisations  – for instance, pre-Columbian – have seen in the Milky Way a celestial river, which can be used as a “shaman’s path” to the afterworld. Actually, if we look closer at the Pharaoh’s attributes and his role after death as “head of the souls”, we can see that he shares many of the “classical” characteristics of a shaman.2

2.4  A king who looks at the stars Equipped with the Pyramid Texts, which as we have seen were most probably already extant at Djoser’s time, we can now return to our starting point: the northern court of Djoser’s complex. At the northern edge and along the north to south axis, a sort of elevated platform is located, with a large socket perhaps meant for an altar or an obelisk. This might thus have been an altar dedicated to the sun; however, the first evidence of erection of obelisks as solar symbols comes from the fifth dynasty. Along the north side of the pyramid, scant remains of what may have been a first version of a “funerary temple” can

A king who looks at the stars

Photo 2.3.  Saqqara. The Serdab of the Djoser Step Pyramid complex. Notice the holes which correspond to the eyes of the statue inside.

also be seen. However, the undoubted focus of the northern court is a small, apparently insignificant structure. It is a perfectly sealed chamber of stone masonry, which looks like a box which has been hammered into the terrain at an angle (actually it is the masonry which was deliberately laid into nonhorizontal courses) (Photo 2.3). The front of the chamber has two small holes, and I will always remember the first time I peered inside one of the holes and my gaze alighted on the stone eyes of Djoser’s statue, sealed in the box 4600 years ago (the original statue is today in the Cairo Museum, but it has been replaced with a replica). The box is thus Djoser’s Serdab, the special room devoted to containing the statue of the deceased, which was magically endowed with “soul”, thanks to the Opening of the Mouth ceremony. In some books, it is possible to read that the holes allow the statue of Djoser to observe the rituals performed in his honour. Clearly, this is an unacceptable explanation, for the simple reason that in such a case there would be no reason to construct the chamber at an angle. Furthermore, it is easy to check by looking inside that the holes also form an angle, so in no way can the statue be said to be looking in front of himself. The holes are a sort of sighting device, aimed at focusing the

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Photo 2.4.  Saqqara. A king who looks at the stars: Djoser’s statue viewed from one of the holes of the Serdab.

attention of the spirit of the king residing in the statue (Photo 2.4). But attention on what? The azimuth of the Serdab follows that of the whole complex, which is not oriented along the meridian but skewed ~4°. The walls are inclined ~12°, but the holes can be calculated to be of different inclinations: only one follows the Serdab walls, at about 11½º, while the other is much steeper, at about 20° (Bauval 2007; Shaltout, Belmonte and Fekri 2007 b). Now, the sky can be traced back at Saqqara to the time of construction of the Step Pyramid to discover what Djoser’s eyes were supposed to be looking at. Two points are identified in the sky, with approximate coordinates (4°, 12°) and (4°, 20°); at a reference date of 2600 BC, two circumpolar stars – Dubhe in Ursa Major and Kochab in Ursa Minor  – were transiting through such points. There is therefore

A king who looks at the stars

little doubt that the solution to the Serdab riddle is written in the Pyramid Texts: the holes were magic channels, allowing contact with the imperishable stars. And indeed, if we imagine the contour of the “celestial adzes” superimposed on the two constellations, then we can see that Dubhe and Kochab are actually located at the edges of the two instruments, fated to touch the mouth of the deceased. After Djoser, only two third dynasty kings built a pyramidal complex. The first is located in Saqqara, to the south-west of Djoser, while the second, for unknown reasons, was constructed at Zawiet el Arian, slightly to the south of what was at that time an almost virgin site we call Giza. The complex in Saqqara was built by King Sekhemkhet (Goneim 1957). Like Djoser’s complex, it was surrounded by an enclosure wall decorated with alternate niches. The pyramid, probably designed to reach 70 metres, with seven steps, was never finished. The interior chambers follow a more regular plan than Djoser’s; the burial chamber, unfinished, was found apparently undisturbed and with the alabaster sarcophagus of the king still sealed with the original plaster. However, it was empty. The south tomb is also present in this complex, but no mummy was found there either. The step pyramid of Zawiet el Arian was probably built by King Khaba, whose name has been found on several items recovered in tombs surrounding the remains of the pyramid. The monument, today usually referred to as the “Layer Pyramid”, is located close to the cultivation. It is relatively small and was likely designed with five steps, of which some 16 metres remain. Its substructure is very similar to Sekhemkhet’s, but no signs of a burial – either real or symbolic – were found in it. The reason for the king’s decision to move the building site from Saqqara to this place 7 kilometres to the north is a real mystery, especially if we consider that a relatively large space was still available in Saqqara to the north-east and to the east of the Djoser Step Pyramid. Unfortunately, the Serdab of these pyramids, if it was present, has never been rediscovered. However, to understand their astronomical connections, we can analyse their orientations, which are 12° west of north at Zawiet el Arian and 8° west of north for both Sekhemkhet and the Gisr el Mudir which, as I mentioned before, is almost certainly a third dynasty building as well (data by the author). We can now look at the sky over Saqqara and Zawiet el Arian around 2600 BC to see what happened at these azimuths (Figure 2.3). Once again, we find a connection with

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2.3.  The constellations close to the north celestial pole as seen from the area of Memphis in the twenty-sixth century BC. The pole is very close to a star of Draco, Thuban, and the two “adzes” – Ursa Major and Ursa Minor – are circumpolar.

the stars Kochab and Dubhe. Indeed, 12° west corresponds to the maximal elongation of Kochab (in other words, it is the measure in degrees of the distance of the star from the north celestial pole), while 8° west corresponds quite well to a simultaneous transit of Kochab and Dubhe; that is, the special configuration of these two stars in which they have both the same azimuth and one is “above” the other (as we shall see, simultaneous transit at the meridian will be used to orient the pyramids of the fourth dynasty). In short, we can conclude that the third dynasty pyramid complexes really were a concentration of symbols, ideas and architectural forms, also from the astronomical point of view. However, each complex was essentially self-contained. Contrary to what happened at the royal necropolis in Abydos, where rules of the sacred space were codified and applied to all tombs and enclosures in sequence, and contrary to what was to happen

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afterwards at Giza, there is no overall notion of an ordered sacred space transmitted from the third dynasty monuments. Looking at an aerial view or map of the Saqqara central field (Figure 2.1), the Gisr el Mudir and the two third dynasty pyramid complexes look like docked ships, drifting around their poles. On the other hand, the later pyramids close to Djoser (of Userkaf and Unas) give order to the landscape in that they are rigorously oriented to true north and aligned along a north-east to south-west axis. Understanding the rules they conformed to and the reasons for the codification of these rules will be one of our main tasks in the next three chapters.

Box 2. Ancient Egyptian astronomy   2.1 The Egyptian calendar   There has been considerable debate regarding the level of astronomical knowledge possessed by the ancient Egyptians, as well as on the structure and origin of Egyptian calendars. Many of the misconceptions, which have slowly been cleared up only in recent years, originated in works by Neugebauer (1969, 1975) and Neugebauer and Parker (1964), whose prejudices about the inferiority of the Egyptian astronomers as compared to their Babylonian contemporaries were to exert a detrimental influence on all subsequent research in this field for many years (according to Otto Neugebauer, “Egypt has no place in the history of mathematical astronomy”). Fortunately, for the purposes of the present book, it is not necessary to consider these issues in any detail, as we shall need only the basic facts. It is certain that, although many Egyptian feasts were anchored to lunar dates and in predynastic times a lunar calendar perhaps existed, very early on, during the first two dynasties, another calendar (usually defined as “civil”) was devised and adopted (Depuydt 1997, 2000; Krauss 1992; Spalinger 1996, 2002, 2008). The main seasonal event in Egypt was the flooding of the Nile, followed by the cultivation of the fields and harvesting. Consequently, the year was divided into three seasons: Akhet (flooding), Peret (growing) and Shemu (dry). Each season was divided into four months of thirty days, every month (continued)

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into weeks of ten days. Five epagomenal days were added to make up a fixed total of 365 days. This calendar, whose origin is not yet clear, is of course woefully inadequate in terms of representing the true length of the solar year, since it does not include any leap years or other adjustments. As a result, it “slips” almost one day every four years compared to the true length of the solar year (365.2425 days). It is obvious, at least in my view, that the astronomers who codified the Egyptian civil calendar were perfectly aware of its glaring delay with respect to the solar cycle. But this was simply not a problem for them: they deliberately adopted a fixed number of days per year, so my point of view on the origin of the calendar is that they had already estimated the length of the solar year with good approximation as a noninteger number of days (probably 365.25) but opted for an “ordered” year of fixed length. They would certainly have noticed that the beginning of the flooding of the Nile, though a gradual and variable phenomenon, usually occurred in concomitance with two astronomical events that could be measured with relatively good precision (say a few days): the heliacal rising of Sirius, the brightest star and the brightest celestial object after the sun, the moon and Venus, and the summer solstice. Due to the peculiar nature of Sirius’s proper motion, the heliacal rising of this star has a periodicity which is almost exactly equal to the average length of the Julian year, 365.25 days.3 Thus, following the heliacal rising of Sirius was a fairly valid way of following the solar year, since it took many centuries to notice the difference. Of course, New Year’s Day 1 Akhet 1 – and thus the calendar – began to wander in relation to the seasons and to the heliacal rising of Sirius as well, the latter completing a cycle in about 1461 years. (This is an approximate value which assumes inter alia that observations were always made in the same part of the country. Delicate and fundamental Egyptological issues such as the consequences on chronology are not discussed here. For a complete recent account of the problems related to the Egyptian calendar, see Belmonte 2009.) 2.2 The star-lore   In ancient times, astronomical observations were made with the naked eye, aided by simple – but effective – instruments. In fact, naked-eye

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observations are facilitated if a foresight, with a fork-like shape, is interposed. In Egypt, it was called Merkhet. It was a palm stem with a slit at the bottom of one side to be used as a viewfinder. The instrument was completed by a level with a plumb line used by an astronomer’s assistant to project celestial points (for instance, positions of circumpolar stars) at the horizon level. Egyptian records of astronomical data have come down to us in the form of the so-called decanal lists. The Decans were 36 celestial objects (mostly single stars, but some were small groups of stars in proximity) whose heliacal rising occurred in successive Egyptian weeks. The first Decan was Sirius. The following ones were chosen from among the celestial objects that have a period of invisibility comparable to that of Sirius, which means about 70 days. They were used to measure the nocturnal time in the following way. On the day of the heliacal rising of a Decan, the last hour of the night of that day was identified through that Decan. The day after, the rising of the same star took place a little before dawn, two days later even earlier, and so forth. After ten days, another Decan was designated to indicate the last hour of the night, and the previous Decan “slipped” into the hour list, indicating the previous hour with its rising, and so on until the twelfth hour of the night was reached and the Decan went out of the list. The decanal hours did not all have the same duration: for the Egyptians the night, the “period when it is dark”, always lasted 12 hours, but these were of variable length. In the late New Kingdom, the decanal lists were replaced by “stellar clocks”, known to us thanks to the frescos on the walls of the tombs of the Pharaohs Ramesses VI, Ramesses VII and Ramesses IX. Again, these are lists of stars associated (this time at transit) with the hours of the night. The decanal lists and the stellar clocks we know from coffins and tomb depictions are clearly a transposition, in the funerary context, of long-standing, accurate astronomical observations. We do not have the original data from which the artists frescoing the coffins of the Middle Kingdom or the tombs in the Valley of the Kings copied. Of course, the Egyptian astronomers who compiled the data would have accurately mapped the sky and measured the heliacal rising and the meridian transit of many stars over many years, in order to be able to select 36 of them for subdividing the hours of the night. Although the use of the (continued)

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Decans is documented from the time of the late Old Kingdom, there are hints that regular observation of bright stars started much earlier, and even that the origin of stellar and solar astronomy in Egypt may be traced as far back as the early fourth millennium BC. These hints are based on astronomical alignments discovered at the site of Nabta Playa in the Nubian desert (Malville et al. 1998; Brophy and Rosen 2005; Malville et al. 2007). As far as constellations are concerned, the Pyramid Texts (Chapter 2) clearly show that there already existed in the Old Kingdom the main constellations close to the north celestial pole (the Big Dipper represented as a bull’s foreleg, the Little Dipper, and a constellation including Draco, later identified as a standing female hippopotamus) and that the bright stars of Orion and the star Sirius were identified with Osiris and Isis, respectively. As far as we know, however, explicit depictions of “starred” figures representing constellations appear together with the beginning of pictographic depictions of the underworld in Middle Kingdom coffins, while quite complete “astronomical guide maps” with many starred figures representing dozens of constellations (for instance a lion – coinciding with our Leo – and a goddess with a disk on her head, probably our Virgo) are present in New Kingdom tombs and temples, the oldest and most famous one being perhaps that present in the tomb of Hatshepsut’s architect Senenmut; most of these constellations have been reliably identified (Pogo 1930; Belmonte 2001a; Belmonte and Lull 2006).

3 The lords of the horizon

3.1  The first Snefru project Snefru (2575–2551 BC), the first king of the fourth dynasty, is without doubt the greatest builder in the history of humanity. During his reign, labourers toiled to move some four million cubic metres of stone; to make a comparison, for the Channel Tunnel about eight million cubic metres – but mostly of soil – had to be excavated. It is uncertain whether Snefru’s predecessor, Huni, was actually his father, so the dynasty changeover may not have reflected a true dynastic one, but what is irrefutable is that Snefru’s reign is outstanding for its staggering architectural innovation. It was in fact during Snefru’s reign that step pyramids were abandoned in favour of geometrical pyramids and interior chambers and corridors were first constructed in the body of these monuments. All of this occurred within two distinct architectural projects, for a total of five pyramids (Figure 3.1). The first project is located not far from the giant oasis of the Fayoum and consists of a huge pyramid at Meidum and another smaller pyramid situated at Seila.1 At Meidum we immediately come face to face with the principal innovations. These changes regard the exterior, since the building was conceived, or at least adapted, to be the first flat-faced pyramid, and for the first time the sides were oriented with very fine precision along the cardinal directions. However, there also is a dramatic change in the architectural conception of the substructure, since corridors and chambers possessing a mechanical contact with the nucleus of the monument appear here for the first time. To attain this, a new technique for distributing the enormous weight of the masonry was employed. Usually called a corbelled ceiling, it involves offsetting successive courses of stones

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3.1.  Geographical location of the Snefru pyramids at Seila, Meidum and Dahshur and of the twelfth dynasty pyramids at Lisht, Lahun and Hawara.

so that they project towards the interior until they meet. Furthermore – as we learned just a few years ago – yet another new architectural technique was employed for the first time at Meidum: that of the so-called relieving chambers. These are service galleries constructed above flat ceilings to house weight-relieving vaults (the name is therefore somewhat misleading). These galleries were no longer meant to be accessed after completion and were thus sealed hermetically; at Meidum, they run along and above the length of the inside passage up to the point of contact with the funerary chamber (Dormion and Verdhurt 2000). Meidum’s monument (Photo 3.1) today looks like an enormous three-storey tower, almost 65 metres tall and 144 metres wide at its base, surrounded by a mound of flattened debris. Originally, though, it was probably a step pyramid, but was later cased and transformed into a flat-faced geometric pyramid; according to Petrie (1892), the slope was 14/11, the same as that subsequently adopted for the Khufu pyramid (see Box 3 for a discussion of the pyramid’s slopes). As is obvious from the present condition of the monument, the surfaces have been washed away, probably as a result of the building being exploited as a quarry in later times. The interior is accessed via a passage (this kind of passage will be called descending, from the point of view of someone entering) which goes down, starting from the north face at a height of about 15 metres and crossing the building diagonally. After levelling off to the horizontal, the passage widens into two alternate rooms, which can probably be taken to be manoeuvre rooms for plugging blocks. The burial chamber is accessed through a short ascending pit, today occupied

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Photo 3.1.  Meidum. The pyramid viewed from the east, with the funerary temple in the foreground.

by a modern staircase. Huge original cedar logs of uncertain function can be seen here, enclosed in the walls for 4600 years. The burial chamber is relatively small, 5.9 metres long and 2.65 metres wide, but still it is exciting to stand inside and to imagine the tremendous weight of the pyramid, which the architects succeeded in supporting so magnificently. The chamber, like all others built up to the end of the fifth dynasty, is bereft of any inscription or decoration. The attribution of the pyramid to Snefru is based on Middle Kingdom inscriptions testifying to the cult of the king that were found in a small building placed on the east side. This building is the first example of a “funerary temple”: a structure devoted to the cult of the deceased Pharaoh. The temple has a somewhat curious plan, consisting of an S-shaped corridor which comes out into a small courtyard containing two huge monolithic stelae. For some reason, the stelae were left uninscribed; their tops were nevertheless visible to visitors ascending from the Nile, creating an odd effect, like two

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twin rising objects on a levelled surface. Other elements of the Meidum complex which, like the funerary temple, would become standard in later pyramid complexes are a large enclosure wall, only traces of which survive, and a causeway, ascending from the cultivation limits. Perhaps a further building which was to appear in later complexes, the so-called valley temple, was located at the end of the causeway, but it has never been found. As we mentioned, the Snefru architects constructed another pyramid along with Meidum. Usually identified today as the Seila pyramid, it is located on a prominent hill in the desert to the west of Meidum, overlooking the Fayoum oasis. It boasted four steps, with a base length of about 30 metres and a height of 21 metres. We know that it was built by Snefru because of a couple of stelae originally located in a chapel to the east side that bear the name of the Pharaoh (Lesko 1988; Swelim 2010). The pyramid does not have any kind of substructure, so it is neither a tomb nor a cenotaph. Why was it constructed? In my view, the function of Seila is clear: it was conceived of as a companion to Meidum. The two pyramids acted as outpost sentinels betokening royal power and authority in the approach to the north, from the Fayoum and from the Nile, respectively. The two monuments appear to be strictly related: both are well-oriented to the cardinal points and both are inter-visible (from Seila one has a view of the huge mole of Meidum even today; the reverse view is more problematic, but in ancient times visibility was certainly better and the monuments are only 10 kilometres apart). In addition, Seila was probably meant to be placed on the same parallel as Meidum. The azimuth of Seila from Meidum is in fact about 3° south of west. An error of as much as 3° is enormous by fourth dynasty standards  – as the reader may know, and as we shall soon be learning. However, while precise methods of meridian orientation using the motion of the stars around the celestial pole were available, no such methods existed for the alignment to a fixed point along the parallel (the parallel of the Meidum pyramid actually passes about 600 metres to the north of the Seila pyramid). All things considered, we can say that Meidum and Seila were paired monuments, mainly designed (or perhaps redesigned, as far as Meidum is concerned) to convey a message of power. Probably the same function was fulfilled by six other pyramids deprived of substructures and

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constructed in the same period (either by Snefru or by his predecessor Huni), usually called “minor step pyramids” (see, for example, Dreyer and Swelim 1982; Lehner 1999; Belmonte, Shaltout and Fekri 2005). These pyramids – which are smaller than Seila, having a side base around 18 metres  – are scattered all over the country. Their locations, listed from the north, are: Hebenu (the only pyramid ever constructed on the west bank), Sinki (about 5 kilometres south of Abydos), Nubt (between Dendera and Luxor), El Kula (some 6 kilometres north of Hierakonpolis), El Ghenimya (near Edfu) and Elephantine (Aswan). In all probability, then, Snefru was not buried in Meidum. The pyramid was finished, or even planned from the very beginning, as a cenotaph, a symbol. The burial place of Snefru was in Dahshur, almost virgin territory at that time. Here the king built  – again  – not one but two pyramids, which together created an extraordinary landscape of power and which today are to be numbered among the noblest architectural masterpieces of all time. 3.2  Snefru is rising Dahshur is a plateau located about 7 kilometres to the south of Saqqara. Here, amid the broody tranquillity of the desert, two enormous artificial mountains dominate the landscape. The southernmost one displays a strange, sudden softening in its inclination and is therefore usually called the Bent Pyramid (Photo 3.2), while the other, located some 1800 metres to the north, is called the Red Pyramid (Photo 3.3) due to the reddish hue of its limestone blocks. The Bent Pyramid is 189 metres wide at its base and 105 metres tall. The slope changes at 49 metres, with the initial inclination dropping off more than 10°. As a consequence of this bizarre feature, it is usually described – in guidebooks and documentaries, but also in many scientific publications – as an example of an imperfect pyramid, a sort of evolutionary stage (or should I say missing link) in the march towards the ultimate perfection of the Great Pyramid at Giza. As it happens, quite the opposite is true. Among other things, the Bent Pyramid’s limestone casing blocks were so skilfully arranged on inclined beds that it is the only pyramid where looters abandoned their attempts to remove them, after excavating only the north-west corner.2 Accordingly, the Bent Pyramid is the only pyramid that can

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Photo 3.2.  Dahshur. The Bent Pyramid.

be seen today as they all must have looked at the time of their construction  – smooth. A visit to the Bent Pyramid is an unforgettable experience; the monument stands alone in the desert, rarely visited by tourists. It is advisable to walk around the whole perimeter to appreciate fully the incredible quantity of huge stones employed as well as, in the areas free of sand, the levelled platform on which the monument itself was built. Finally, one might linger for a while under the niche created by the removal of the lower blocks at the north-west corner, safely sitting with huge, perfectly dressed, jutting stones looming overhead, in the womb of one of the most marvellous monuments ever built by humans. The Bent Pyramid is also unique in that it has two distinct internal structures, which were designed and built independently and are only connected by a narrow passageway (Figure 3.2). The entrances to these structures are situated on the north and west faces. The north apartments consist of a descending passage leading to a first corbelled chamber. From here, the inner chamber – located higher and also corbelled – can be accessed. A side room contains a vertical shaft located precisely under the apex of the pyramid. The west chamber is accessed

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3.2.  Plan and sections of the Bent Pyramid.

from a passage which, after levelling off to the horizontal, was blocked by a system of two sliding slabs (portcullis). The chamber is at a higher level than the first; when excavated, it was found partly filled by a masonry and wood structure, of which some original cedar logs remain in place. Quarry marks with Snefru cartouches, traced in red, were found on the blocks (Fakhry 1959). The complex of the Bent Pyramid includes a small upper temple to the east, a causeway and, for the first time, a valley temple. The upper temple houses two huge stelae similar to that at Meidum, with an altar -hetep (altar, offerings), slab behind in the form of the hieroglyph a stylised loaf of bread on a reed mat. This is a simple example of the direct interplay between hieroglyph symbols and actual architecture, of which many other examples are known. One of these, as we shall see shortly, is actually the whole Snefru project in Dahshur; another

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is the fifth dynasty tombs of officers in Saqqara south, which have a -per-djet (house of eternity) plan resembling the hieroglyph group (Dobrev 2006). The valley temple of the Bent Pyramid is a rectangular stone building, with an open courtyard and a gallery probably originally accommodating six statues of the king. Of the causeway, only the foundations remain, but it is still an exciting experience to ascend it, above the dreamy peace of the desert, beholding the huge monument as it gradually comes to occupy the horizon. The longest ascending section is oriented at 240°, and this means that, for an observer looking along it, the sun setting at the winter solstice was seen to disappear behind the pyramid; if the observer positioned himself at the centre of the valley temple, he would have seen the sun “lean” at the north-west corner, perhaps facilitating calendrical observations (Belmonte 2009). To the south of the Bent Pyramid and on the same axis, another pyramid was erected. This is some 30 metres high on its own, but it is dwarfed by the huge mass of the main one. It was constructed with meticulous care, fitting the casing onto an artificial stone platform. However, its casing courses were laid out horizontally (as would be the rule from then on) and therefore were easily dismantled by looters. On the east side was a small chapel, here also with the familiar couple of stelae. The chamber of the pyramid is too small for a burial, so what we have here is the first example of a pyramid of the kind usually called “satellite” pyramids (Fakhry 1959). Satellite pyramids exist in almost all later pyramidal complexes; judging from the finds in that of the second Giza complex, they were meant for the burial of a statue designated to house the Ka, the “vital spirit” of the deceased. The north pyramid of Dahshur, or the Red Pyramid (Photo 3.3), is a little larger at the base compared to its sister to the south, but the height is virtually identical due to the fact that the chosen slope was lower and equal to that of the upper part of the south one, a first hint as to the wish of the builders to transmit a unified message. Quarry marks have been found on some of its blocks, dated to year 15 at the base and to later years at higher levels (Stadelmann 1987; Verner 2002b, 2006). It is unclear whether the years in question have to be doubled (because they might refer to a “cattle count”, which was carried out every two years). In any case, existing attempts to extrapolate from these marks a measure of the speed of construction (see, for example, Krauss 1996; .

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Photo 3.3.  Dahshur. The north face of the Red Pyramid.

Romer 2007) are clearly flawed from the physical point of view, as the velocity estimated in these models would be impossible to achieve, even with modern means.3 The substructure of the pyramid is arranged as follows. The descending corridor arrives at the ground level, where two marvellous, almost identical chambers with high corbelled roofs are aligned north to south and connected by a short horizontal passage. In the south wall of the second chamber, accessed by a staircase, another corridor leads to the final chamber, which is built within the masonry of the pyramid and oriented east to west. The reason for the room being at a higher level compared to the antechamber was probably structural, because the corbelled roof of the last chamber would have exerted its pull on the relatively thin layer of masonry located in front of the corbelled roof of the antechamber (as we shall see, in the Great Pyramid a similar problem was solved with the use of the “relieving chambers”). The annexes of the Red Pyramid visible today consist only of a chapel, or funerary temple, placed to the east. The building was finished with mudbricks, and little remains today. In the centre, a small platform with a sort of miniature pyramid can be seen. It is the pyramidion, the capstone of the pyramid, which has been recovered in

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pieces nearby and reconstructed; almost certainly all pyramids had one, although few of them have been found. The causeway probably ran due east from the temple, but it has never been excavated; its projected course crosses the building of the ticket office so, if a valley temple ever existed, it now lies smack under the only modern building in the entire area. As a matter of fact, what we do have in Dahshur is a double project which is even more devilishly difficult to fathom than the first double project of Snefru, that of Meidum-Seila. I shall now briefly summarise the standard explanation for it given in most authoritative publications (e.g., Lehner 1999; Verner 2002a), with the proviso to the reader that I personally do not endorse such an explanation (I shall go into this shortly). What is usually claimed is that the Bent Pyramid was constructed first, but was in danger of collapsing on account of structural problems which arose during construction. As a result, the slope was softened, but this expedient was somehow still considered to be unsafe, so it was decided to go ahead and build a new pyramid. For many Egyptologists, the Bent Pyramid was at this point abandoned (or turned into a cenotaph; see Stadelmann 1985). To substantiate this abandoning of the project, the following points are made. First, in the descending corridors of the pyramid, a severe fracture can be seen. The fracture led to a displacement recognisable as a conspicuous rift in the blocks. Furthermore, the casing has a number of cracks, many of which were repaired in ancient times. Finally, the cedar beams still visible in internal chambers were allegedly put in place for safety reasons. That’s it, pure and simple. As far as anything else is concerned, the “evolutionary stage”, the “failed pyramid”, the “false pyramid” and whatever other names have been dreamed up for it in the literature, the south pyramid of Snefru at Dahshur, well … it just stands there, with all its inner rooms perfectly sound and accessible 4600 years after being built. Now what? Let us first of all understand what the cracks in the corridors mean. By comparing their positions, it can be seen that they correspond to the same displacement that affected the entire upper mass of blocks within the whole structure (Maragioglio and Rinaldi 1966). This is sometimes attributed to the movement of an “addition” which was allegedly made by the builders to an alleged first, smaller pyramid they

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constructed with a steeper slope, estimated around 60°, which today, it is claimed, is enveloped like a Matrioska doll inside the visible one. There are many physical reasons which, in my opinion, clearly show that this alleged “first pyramid” never existed, but this is not the place to go into these technical details. What is important is that, although the displacement was certainly a tremendous event – perhaps due to an earthquake  – the blocks rearranged themselves into a new position of equilibrium. The interior corridors had been built so skilfully that they actually stood up. Even admitting that the builders still felt the pyramid to be unsafe, it would have been illogical for them to add cedar beams in the chambers and soften the slope while continuing to add weight. Therefore, the theory that the change in slope was decided after the appearance of structural failure must be rejected on the simple grounds that it is illogical. To be totally convinced, we might also observe that the theory does not in any case explain why it was decided to abandon the pyramid after its completion with the lower slope, since its condition of stability (exactly as it is today) must then have been patently obvious. Eliminating the impossible, there is only one option left. The two monuments belong to a single project, conceived of by a single person, moved by a single aim: to represent his power on earth and his rights to the afterlife, through the construction of an imposing sacred landscape. The presence of a unitary Snefru project of the Dahshur landscape is hinted at by an impressive number of clues. First of all, the duality apparent in the site – two enormous pyramids of equal height, two (and not three) slopes, two funerary apartments in the south pyramid, two complexes of annexes with the valley temple of the “abandoned” Bent Pyramid showing no signs of having been left unfinished or nonfunctioning. Moreover, a further symmetry was in play in the slopes, since the pyramidion of the Red Pyramid has the same slope as the lower part of the Bent Pyramid, so the two pyramids had to some extent specular slopes.4 What apparently breaks the duality of the project is the presence of a single satellite pyramid, that of the Bent Pyramid complex. However, this actually helps to prove that the project was a global one, because the Red Pyramid would have had its own satellite if the “machinery” of the king’s burial and afterlife had been transferred lock, stock and barrel to the northern complex.

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Duality in the funerary cult is hardly a novelty – a striking example is in Djoser’s complex, with two tombs and a continual, almost obsessive reference to “the two lands”. The pairing of the tombs may actually represent a tribute to the tradition of the Pharaoh as the ruler of unified Upper and Lower Egypt, although the change in the slope of the Bent Pyramid  – which was, in all probability, planned from the very beginning – remains in itself something of a mystery, being a one-off solution never to be adopted again in the history of Egyptian pyramids. The existence of the west corridor and chamber is also unique, the sole possible resemblance being that Djoser’s “south tomb” has the same orientation. The main task, though, is to try to understand the messages conveyed by the two pyramids taken altogether; in other words, what is the meaning of the Snefru funerary landscape at Dahshur? More insight into this question is given by the fact that we know the names of the two pyramids. From Snefru onward, indeed, each royal pyramid complex will receive a name, which in most cases has been passed on to us in the reliefs of the tombs of the officials and priest in charge of the complexes. As we shall see, these names are of the utmost importance in understanding the role of many of these complexes in the sacred land. scapes of the Old Kingdom. The Red Pyramid was called The name is made up of the Snefru cartouche, the hieroglyph -kha, which is usually translated as “shining”, and the pyramid determinative. So the Red Pyramid was “Snefru shines”; however, -kha is more “literally” (or I should say ideographically) the sun at rising, so I much prefer to render the name of the Red Pyramid as “Snefru is rising”. The ancient name of the Bent Pyramid was the same as that of the Red Pyramid, with the addition of a sign denoting “south” – or also “Upper Egypt”: . The Bent Pyramid was therefore called “the south pyramid – Snefru is rising”. As a whole, there can be little doubt that the project made up of the two pyramids was a common one, called Snefru is rising. If we seek further confirmation, we might note that, as is well known, the that is, “The two Snefru complex was referred to as pyramids – Snefru is rising” – in a decree issued by the sixth dynasty king Pepi I (around 2250 BC) regulating administration of the pyramid town in Dahshur and found on an inscribed stone not far from the Red Pyramid (Moret 1917). A much lesser-known fact is that the complex had already been referred to in this way in much earlier times.

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Indeed, in the false door of the tomb of a high priest of the Snefru cult called Dware, who lived in the early fifth dynasty (less than one hundred years after Snefru), we learn that his main title was “overseer of ” (Borchardt 1937). So the funerary project of the king at Dahshur symbolised his eternal, symbolic “shining” or “rising”. But where was this supposed to happen? The answer must be sought in the monuments themselves; the Snefru pyramids were meant to form an artificial, symbolic horizon of two sign. This is the same sign as the two paired peaks mountains, a -djew we already encountered at Abydos, connected with the royal necropolis and located due south of it. The very same effect in Dahshur is particularly striking when the site is seen from the Saqqara plateau; that is, from the revered necropolis of the kings of the third dynasty. The paired mountains of Snefru identify him as the lord of the horizon for anyone approaching the plateau along the ancient pathway from Memphis, which ran along a wadi located a few hundred metres to the north of the Step Pyramid and approached the Step Pyramid complex along its sides. This heady experience can still be enjoyed today, especially on clear days, and is enhanced by the sight of the later monument constructed by King Shepsekaf, who, as we shall see, placed his tomb precisely along the line that starts at the horizon in between the two pyramids at Dahshur and crosses the Saqqara central field at the ancient “entrance” area located near the Teti pyramid. We might assert, then, that it is with the Snefru project at Dahshur that we begin to perceive an increasing symbolic value of the pyramids. It is with this king that the pyramids became “gigantic hieroglyphs”, as Lehner (1999) put it. According to Assmann (2007), the very idea of creation was tied up with writing in the Egyptian mind; thus, in a sense, the pyramid becomes a “sign” within a “written” sacred landscape. From this point of view, in the minds of the ancient Egyptians, a resemblance of pyramid symbolism with the idea of the primeval mound of creation seems likely, since the dominant theology had meanwhile migrated to Heliopolis, where, as we shall see in Chapter 4, the world was said to have been created on a primeval, pyramid-like stone called the Ben-Ben. Yet Heliopolis was also the main cult centre of the sun, and indeed the step whose construction was under way to complete the pyramid’s symbolic power is the explicit connection of the monuments with the sun, which was to interact spectacularly with the pyramid

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projects under Snefru’s son, Khufu. The pyramid becomes with Khufu an icon of glory for the deceased living god’s union with his divine ancestors  – most of all, the sun god  – and the name of the pyramid complex becomes a sort of added royal name, a “name after death”. As an apotheosis, the sun rays shining on the pyramids, thanks to their “nontrivial” slopes (see Box 3), will merge with the monuments themselves, creating dramatic effects, especially on days in proximity to the summer solstice. A final observation in this identification of the king with his pyramid is that the pyramid complexes can really be thought of as royal houses, complete with gate (valley temple), entrance corridor (causeway), courtyard, reception and dining-offering hall (funerary temple), and finally private apartments, lying under what will be called in the Pyramid Texts a “staircase” for the king’s ascent to the afterlife (Lehner 1999). It might thus be feasible to call a pyramid a “mansion” for the king, albeit a very special one. I shall therefore conclude this section by discussing what amounts to, at least for me, almost definitive proof of the existence of an overall project at Dahshur which has been known since 1866 but has apparently gone unnoticed (Citron 2003). The readable passages of the Palermo Stone about Snefru’s reign contain two curious references. In a regnal year, which is probably the fifth (or tenth if the cattle count was biennial), we have the construction of the “wall of the Southland and Northland Houses-of-Snefru” (Breasted 1906; these are called “mansions” in Wilkinson 2000). One (or two) years later, the same buildings are referred to with the erection of two structures called “Exalted is the White Crown of Snefru upon the Southern Gate” and “Exalted is the Red Crown of Snefru upon the Northern Gate”. In the literature, these buildings are usually identified with each other (as a single palace with two gates) or interpreted as fortifications at the boundaries of the country, but in any case they are assumed to be, archaeologically speaking, unknown. So, we can summarise what the Palermo Stone tells us about Snefru’s buildings as follows: there should be  – yes, somewhere in Egypt  – a couple of buildings conceived of, planned and built together celebrating the king as the sovereign of the two lands, one associated with the red crown of the north, the other with the white crown of the south, of which we have no trace, but which are so important as to be cited twice

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Photo 3.4  Giza. A view from the east of the Great Pyramid (foreground), with Khufu’s queen’s pyramids on the left and Khafra’s and Menkaura’s in the background.

in the Royal Annals, where, on the other hand, the huge pyramids built by the same king are not mentioned. I believe that, if we ascend to the Saqqara plateau and look south, bearing in mind that we are not looking at an alleged “failed pyramid” and to its “evolution” – as so many in the past have tried to convince us – but at the global modelling of the funerary landscape of one of the greatest kings of Egypt, then some idea of the identity of the utterly mysterious paired buildings of Snefru cited in the Royal Annals may come to us. 3.3  The Great Pyramid It was on 2 February 1925 that the Boston Museum of Fine Arts Expedition to Giza discovered a previously unnoticed stairway excavated in the rock on the east side of the Great Pyramid (Photo 3.4). The stairway led down to what appeared to be an undisturbed burial place. However, it was not a tomb: no coffin, no mummy was buried in it. There was a canopic chest with human remains, and also a sealed sarcophagus, but this was empty. Apart from this, the chamber was crammed with sumptuous objects constituting the funerary equipment of a great queen. The heart of the discoverer could not but fail to skip a

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beat on reading her name: she was the Mother of the King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Follower of Horus, Guide of the Ruler, Favourite One, She Whose Every Word Is Done for Her, the Daughter of the God Body, Hetepheres. Thanks to this discovery we at least know the name of that wife of Snefru who was Khufu’s mother, and have an idea of what the funerary equipment of a royal tomb of that period was like (regarding the problem of the mummy’s absence, see Lehner 1985b). Indeed, notwithstanding the fact that Khufu is the owner of the most complex and huge stone monument ever built on planet earth, his pyramid is lacking any kind of information about the king, apart from his name, which in full was Khnum-Khufu: protected by Khnum, an archaic, creator ram god associated with the annual flooding of the Nile and worshipped on the Elephantine Island (ironically, in the pyramid the name appears only hastily sketched in red ochre in some stonemason’s marks). We know hardly anything about the physical appearance of the king  – recognisable only from a tiny statuette found at Abydos by Petrie. Finally, no contemporary historic text has come down to us with any description of the king. So if we wish to understand more about him, we must rely on what he left us on the Giza plateau. Time fears the pyramids, as an ancient Arab proverb has it. It is true: the fervid desire of Khufu (2551–2528 BC) to live in eternity defies time at every dawn, when the huge mole of his tomb emerges from the mists of modern Cairo. Since the first time I saw this spectacle many years ago, Khufu’s pyramid has been associated in my mind with a verse by the Italian poet and Nobel laureate Eugenio Montale: “scheggia fuori dal tempo, testimone/di una volonta’ fredda che non passa” which sounds something like (my translation) “splinter out of time, witness/to a cold will that shall never recede”. Our analysis of this wonderful monument and its role in the sacred funerary landscape of the Old Kingdom commences with two puzzles. Indeed, for some reason that no one has ever bothered to try to understand, Khufu made two apparently strange choices for his tomb. First, he chose the almost virgin soil of the Giza plateau instead of opting for Dahshur, where the pyramids of his father stood. Second, at Giza, Khufu chose a rocky spur set directly on the ridges of the plateau; in doing this he left the most favourable position free – which of course was that of the still-tocome second pyramid of Giza (more precisely, some 100 metres to the

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3.3.  Schematic map of the Giza necropolis: (1) pyramid of Khufu; (2) pyramid of Khafra; (3) pyramid of Menkaura; (4–6) funerary temples; (7–9) causeways; (10) modern village of Nazet; (11) valley temple of Khafra; (12) valley temple of Menkaura; (13) Sphinx; (14) Sphinx temple; (15) satellite pyramid of Khafra; (16) Khentkaues tomb.

east of it), where the plateau slopes gently, and from a higher point (Figure 3.3). So, I have only just embarked on the subject of the Great Pyramid and have already introduced two topographical problems. We shall have others, to be sure, but let me stress that we shall also have very reasonable solutions. By “reasonable” I mean solutions which were not only technically attainable by the ancient Egyptians but which are in line with (what we know of) their knowledge, way of thinking, society and religion. Yet, as we shall see, these solutions can be found only by taking into account the profound relationships between architecture, astronomy and landscape typical of the Old Kingdom.

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The “fact file” of Khufu’s “Great Pyramid” can be summarised as follows: –– The base sides measure on average 230.35 metres, with a maximum deviation between the measures of different sides of less than 20 centimetres. –– The slope is 14/11, from which it can be deduced that the original height was 146.6 metres. –– The sides are parallel to the cardinal directions within the astonishing precision of three minutes of arc; that is, one-twentieth of a degree. –– The core consists of 210 horizontal courses of limestone blocks piled one on top of the other, making a grand total of no less than 2,200,000 blocks (a small, rocky outcrop was incorporated into the first layers of blocks, making it difficult to determine exactly the volume of stones employed). –– The casing consisted of thousands of huge blocks of white limestone extracted from the quarries at Tura, on the opposite bank of the Nile. (Almost all of these casing blocks were carried off in the Middle Ages.) As a matter of fact, the Khufu pyramid is a new artificial mountain, successive to, and greater than, the Snefru pyramids. This mountain is also provided with a system of inner rooms, created during the construction (Figure 3.4). Today, entry is effected by a passage probably hewn out by looters. The original entrance was higher on the north face (slightly offset with respect to the midline, for unknown reasons) and gave access to a descending passageway inclined 26°33′.5 Proceeding straight down, the corridor leads to a chamber carved out of the bedrock, called the Subterranean Chamber. This chamber was never dug out completely: the last part was only excavated to half of its presumed height, with a central passageway. This way of sculpting out cavities resembles the method used in Egyptian quarries to extract stone blocks (Arnold 1991; Clarcke and Engelbach 1990), and it is probably for this reason that the chamber is usually defined as unfinished, although – of course – the half-quarrying method was used to extract more easily entire blocks, a thing which certainly was not done here. Halfway down the descending passageway, an ascending corridor veers off from a gap in the ceiling, but it has been blocked since the time

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3.4.  Schematic section of the Great Pyramid: (1) original entrance; (2) looter’s hole; (3) descending corridor; (4) subterranean chamber; (5) well; (6) Queen’s Chamber; (7) Great Gallery; (8) lower shafts; (9) King’s Chamber; (10) “relieving chambers”; (11) upper shafts. The rock base is schematically shown as levelled, but its profile is actually unknown.

of construction by a “plug” made of a series of huge blocks of granite. The looters’ entrance avoids these plugs, and allows us to cross alongside them and start the ascent to the king’s apartment, but not before casting a sideways glance at the plugging blocks, which still seal off the corridor perfectly. The ascending passage rises inside the pyramid and comes out in the so-called Grand Gallery. This high-ceilinged gallery is 46.6 metres long and has the same slope as the ascending corridor, but, in contrast, is 2 metres wide, and its corbelled ceiling reaches a height of 8.54 metres. The spell that the Grand Gallery casts over the visitor is heightened by the fact that one emerges into it abruptly from the cramped passageway. Originally, there was no break in the floor between the corridor and the gallery, so one would have continued the ascent without noticing the branching off of a horizontal passage, presumably covered by an inclined slab. This passage leads to the so-called Queen’s Chamber, which measures 5.74 × 5.2 × 6.2 metres. The chamber possesses a projecting corbelled niche on the east wall and two little rectangular openings of shafts, each the size of a handkerchief, visible on the north and south walls;

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otherwise it is totally anonymous. The fact that the chamber was sealed and that its niche was clearly meant to house a statue firmly supports its interpretation as Khufu’s Serdab. Coming back to the ascending corridor, we can go on with our ascent through the Grand Gallery. It ends with a step block (usually called the great step), leading into another narrow horizontal passageway. This passes through a small chamber which contained a complicated locking system of granite portcullises. Eventually this chamber takes us to Khufu’s burial chamber, or the King’s Chamber. This room, 10.47 metres long, is a granite parallelepiped, whose base is made up of two squares and whose height is nearly equal to half of the base diagonal. Inside there is only Khufu’s granite sarcophagus, relatively small but still too substantial to have been carried along the corridors, and thus evidently put in place before the completion of the room’s ceiling. The coffin was carved with a core drill, although the difficulties in drilling granite with copper tools – of course aided by abrasive sand – must have been enormous (the work is almost perfect: we can see the traces of a slightly blurred perforation on one of the edges). Besides the sarcophagus, the King’s Chamber is bleakly unadorned and “silent”. It was very probably prefabricated, with all the blocks perfectly dressed and their joints tested, before moving the stones to the course where it was actually constructed. Also here, as in the Queen’s Chamber, two small holes are present on the north and south walls. They lead to shafts which, unlike those in the Queen’s Chamber, exit the pyramid through the north and south faces, respectively. These exits are almost at the same height (about 80 metres), and since this is much higher than the level of the King’s Chamber, the shafts twist sharply upwards. There can be no doubt that the construction of these seemingly straightforward structural elements was in fact an extremely sophisticated and complex piece of work, continuing over many years, together with the completion of successive horizontal courses of stones of the pyramid. Since the King’s Chamber was not located on the central axis but was displaced slightly to the south, the inclinations of the two channels are different; these inclinations were accurately maintained over the years, from the time the most delicate part of the construction in the core of the monument had been successfully carried out (actually, as we shall see, it was the displacement of the chamber from the central axis that was chosen on the basis of the desired slopes of the shafts and not vice versa).

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Above the King’s Chamber, we find a series of four superimposed spaces, each roofed with huge granite slabs; the upper cavity is covered by a pent limestone vault. These spaces are usually called “relieving” chambers, but the name is misleading, as it was in Meidum, since of course it is only the upper vault which distributes the weight. It is obvious that the builders were well aware of this, since they used the pent vault without “relieving” chambers in the ceiling of the Queen’s Chamber, even though an even greater weight was applied there. The function of the chambers comes from another consideration. If the pent roof had been constructed directly over the King’s Chamber, the stone slabs on the north side would have been leaning dangerously onto a part of the pyramid in which few blocks of the core were located, followed by the gap caused by the presence of the Great Gallery. Therefore it was deemed advisable to build the relief vault higher up, and for this reason the intermediate chambers were constructed6 (a similar problem had already been tackled by the Snefru architects inside the Red Pyramid, but there the solution was to raise the level of the funerary chamber in relation to that of the second antechamber). The relieving chambers were sealed off after construction; they are a part of the preassembled project of the King’s Chamber. The lowest one, however, located directly on the ceiling of the room, was again accessed by builders who excavated a rough tunnel, probably to assess the conditions of the masonry after a few fissures appeared in the ceiling; this tunnel was rediscovered by Nathaniel Davidson in 1765, while the upper chambers were accessed by Howard Vyse, who, in 1837, devised his own rather drastic way of access (with gunpowder) until he reached the vault. It is in the chambers discovered by Vyse that hieroglyphs hastily traced in red ochre can be seen. They bear the cartouche name of the king in the complete form Khnum-Khufu – attested also at the quarries of Wadi Marghara, Sinai – and the names of the work gangs in charge of moving the stones; for instance, “Powerful is the Great White Crown of Khnum-Khufu”. In the lowest chamber, the absence of such quarry marks is puzzling. There is a quite logical explanation, though: they were erased by builders during their on-the-spot inspections, which occurred only in that chamber.7 The complex of annexes to the Khufu pyramid included a funerary temple on the east side; unfortunately, today only the basalt paving stones are left of it, together with the sockets of granite pillars. Along

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the east side of the pyramid, a huge, boat-shaped cavity excavated in the bedrock can also be seen. These cavities (Khufu actually had at least five) were made to store boats. One of these was recovered intact in 1954 and reassembled. The Khufu boats are certainly connected with the sun. As we have seen, in the Pyramid Texts the sun god accommodates the deceased Pharaoh on his boat (or “bark”, to use Faulkner’s more romantic term). A causeway connected the funerary temple to the valley temple, located in an area today covered by the Nazet el Saman village. Khufu’s causeway must surely have been a masterpiece, its walls covered with fine relief carvings, of which a few have been discovered, reutilised in the Middle Kingdom pyramids of Lisht. Little remains of it today; one can only get as far as the fence of the archaeological area and look down towards the village some 25 metres below, with a few huge limestone blocks still scattered around. On the east side of the Great Pyramid, three small pyramids were built, almost certainly for Khufu’s queens. Recently, a further pyramid has been discovered in this area, near the south-east corner of Khufu’s. It is quite a small monument, with a chamber excavated in the rock whose side walls lean slightly inward, like a tent. The chamber is similar to that of the satellite pyramid of the second Giza pyramid (see Section 3.5), and therefore this is almost certainly the satellite pyramid of Khufu. Even so, both the position and the quality of the work suggest that it was not part of the original project (Hawass 1996). 3.4  The Great Pyramid and the stars The Great Pyramid is a magnificent engineering work, devised, designed and built in accordance with a complex overall project. This project, however, included the construction of four puzzling small shafts which required far from negligible extra effort to construct. Why was this done? The answer is important for us, since it must be sought in the profound connection between the monument and the stars. This is a first, fundamental piece of the huge topographical puzzle that is the sacred landscape at Giza, and it is well nigh impossible to understand the Great Pyramid without first laying down this piece. Unfortunately, screeds have been written on the subject of “pyramids and stars”, most of which are,

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not to put too fine a point on it, simply nonsense. Duly warned, I shall proceed with the utmost care and scrupulousness, even at the risk of being repetitive. The connection of Khufu’s tomb with the stars was made concrete in two ways: the astonishing accuracy with which the sides were oriented along the cardinal directions  – which could only have been achieved through diligent star-watching – and the incorporation into the monument of deftly constructed devices, the shafts. The orientation of the monument will be discussed later, together with that of the other pyramids of the fourth dynasty; here we shall concentrate on the shafts, which are a feature of the Great Pyramid alone. We shall start with the King’s Chamber. Both its channels cross the pyramid diagonally, and this proves that the idea that they could have been used as ventilation shafts during the construction of the pyramid, put forward by many in the past, is simply absurd. Even admitting such a need for ventilation, building a vertical shaft would have been far easier and more effective for this purpose (perhaps this was the role of the vertical “chimney” in the Bent Pyramid). Besides, the fact that the shafts start from the north and the south sides of the chambers, combined with the fact that the sides of the pyramid are oriented cardinally, means that they are directed to specific points along the celestial meridian. Given that the afterlife was so closely bound up with the sky, as we learned from the Pyramid Texts, it is natural to look at what was happening (at the time of construction) at these particular points during the night (Badawy 1964; Trimble 1964). I shall use the most reliable data on the shafts’ slopes, provided by Rudolph Gantenbrink (Gantenbrink 1999). They refer to the final parts of the channels, since before crossing the “crowded” area in the core of the pyramid (where, for instance, the Grand Gallery had to be avoided by the northern channels), the shafts were not linear, nor did they have a constant slope (unfortunately, Gantenbrink’s data are incomplete for the northern lower shaft, but the results of later exploration missions carried out there have not been published). If an astronomical interpretation is to be sought, it would only have validity after the builders succeeded in attaining the required slope, and indeed the slopes stabilise in the final parts of the conduits. In any event, the calculations which follow should be taken with a pinch of salt (say, a tolerance of plus or minus 1°) since nothing comparable to the astonishing accuracy the ancient Egyptians

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3.5.  A schematic representation of the astronomical alignments of the four shafts of the pyramid of Khufu. In reality, the shafts start with a horizontal section and exhibit several changes of slope in their initial run.

attained in orienting the sides of the pyramid is to be expected here. Furthermore, due to uncertainties in chronology on one hand and the effects of precession on the other, we cannot use these data to obtain more than a rough confirmation of the estimated date of construction. Having said that, and fixing a reference date of 2550 BC, the following stellar connections for the upper shafts hold (Figure 3.5). The north shaft is inclined at exit 31°12′, which fits with the upper culmination of the “pole star” of the epoch, Thuban, at 31°03′.8 The southern shaft is inclined 45°00′ and points towards the culmination of the central part of the constellation Orion, the so-called Belt, comprising the three stars Al Nitak, Al Nilam and Mintaka, the latter being the closest at 44°48′.9 There seems to me to be no doubt whatsoever that the upper shafts were stellar conduits oriented towards stars which played a key role in the stellar religion of the Pyramid Texts. They start, however, with a horizontal section and in no way could have been used as devices to watch these stars; furthermore, as already mentioned, both have variations in slope up to a certain height, so they are not, as is sometimes said, “pointing like guns” at their targets. They are a purely symbolic architectural feature, intended to allow the spirit of the king to magically rejoin the stars. Interestingly, this interpretation also answers the question as to why the King’s Chamber was not built on the vertical from the apex. In fact, it is not possible to reconcile the following three

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requirements: (1) the stellar, hence fixed, orientation of the shafts; (2) the egress of the shafts at the same height; and (3) the chamber set on the axis. The first two requirements were privileged with respect to the third. This was not necessary, though, for the Queen’s Chamber, thanks to a lucky coincidence. As we have seen, the chamber is (I would say definitely) the Serdab of the Great Pyramid. Thus, we would also expect here some stellar significance for the shafts and, in particular, it would not be surprising to find a connection with the same northern stars we encountered in Djoser’s Serdab. However, the situation is much more complicated, since the shafts do not exit and, furthermore, the inclination data obtained during the complete exploration of the northern shaft have never been published. In any case, inclination of the southern shaft, after an initial horizontal section, is well attested to as 39°36′. This ties in with the culmination of Sirius to the south at 38°28′ (Bauval 1993) (the channel actually points also to the culmination of another bright star, Shaula, at 38°40′). For the northern shaft, available data by Gantenbrink give a value between 33° and 40°, but scattered pieces of information from the (never published) second exploration carried out by National Geographic apparently favour the idea that the two lower channels also were projected to stop at the same height, so that they are symmetrical. If this is the case, then the northern lower shaft targets well the culmination of Kochab, occurring at 39°15’; in other words, by a curious coincidence, Sirius and Kochab had similar altitudes at culmination in that period. All in all, we have four channels, all pointing within 1° (in 2550 BC) to the upper culmination of four stars which play a key role in the Pyramid Texts. One could now discuss ad infinitum the precision of such alignments, the effects of precession on them, the most likely chronology they point to and so on. Still, the fact remains that the star-channel interpretation is the only one which agrees fully with what we know about Egyptian architects and what we know about the stellar component of the funerary beliefs. Any other attempt at an explanation fails, either because it is illogical (the “air-shafts” theory) or because it is inconsistent with what we know about aesthetics and religion in Egyptian architecture.10 A tough challenge remains, however: that of understanding why the lower shafts do not exit. Up to the beginning of the 1990s, it was thought that the lower shafts had simply been left unfinished by the builders, although nobody ever

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dared to probe them in depth. The exploration was finally attempted by Rudolf Gantenbrink with the help of a small robot he called Upuaut, a highly appropriate name taken from one of the Egyptian deities who acted as guides in the underworld. The exploration of the northern shaft encountered various difficulties and was interrupted after about 17 metres. At the beginning of March 1993, Upuaut succeeded in ascending the southern shaft, transmitting images to Gantenbrink’s team in the Queen’s Chamber. I am in the habit of showing these images to my archaeoastronomy students, telling them that – as a physicist – this is the only example of time-travelling into the past that I know of: the robot is moving in a place that has lain undisturbed for 4500 years in the very heart of the most complex building ever created. The final images show Upuaut advancing along a stretch of shaft built out of fine limestone blocks and stopping in front of a slab of fine limestone fitted with two copper handles. A second expedition was launched, with a new robot, by the National Geographic Society in September 2002. On this occasion, the northern shaft was explored right up to its end, where a quite similar door was discovered. In the southern shaft, a (undocumented) failed attempt at opening the door caused the breakage of one of the handles. Then a drill was applied to the door and a front-end camera was inserted to see inside, but only another slab was visible. To date, a further expedition has been carried out with a new robot called Djedi, with the aim of obtaining a comprehensive view of the minuscule “chamber” (the interior space behind the slab) of the southern shaft (Hawass et al. 2010). This space turned out to be approximately 19 centimetres long. The pins on the door terminate on the rear face with tiny loops. An interesting discovery was the presence of three red ochre signs on the floor, left by masons. They are probably numbers written in cursive hieroglyphs. What is the meaning of these doors? What do we expect to find behind them? Up to the recent Djedi exploration, I strongly suspected that the answer would be “nothing”. I regret to say that after the new exploration I am even more convinced, since the presence of masons’ marks is a strong hint that the “official” part of the pyramid ends at the door and what remains is for “service”, not intended to be seen but equally not intended for symbolic use, like the “relieving chambers” above the King’s Chamber. Actually the doors might be a representation of those gates which feature so prominently in the Pyramid Texts and have to be crossed by the soul of the deceased. As such, they would play

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Photo 3.5.  Giza. A picture, taken from the north, of the west side of the second pyramid, with Menkaura’s north face in the background. Many granite blocks of the casing of the lower courses of the pyramid can be seen, as well as the huge cut in the bedrock which runs parallel to the side.

an important role in making operational the “magic” working of the Serdab; that is, the Queen’s Chamber.11 3.5  The second great pyramid of Giza The second great pyramid of Giza lies not far from Khufu’s, and their diagonals run nearly along the same line. It is a colossal monument which seems even bigger than the first, since it was built on a slightly more elevated area of the plateau and is steeper. Actually it is a little smaller – 143 metres tall, with base side 215 metres. The first courses were cased with heavy blocks of granite from Aswan. The casing then proceeded with fine limestone – part of it, the capping, being still in place. The pyramid is constructed near the best available position in the whole Giza area, the very best one being a little to its east. Indeed, the slope of the plateau rises too much to the west, and therefore it was necessary to cut away a huge trench of rock along the foundation course on the west side. This trench is one of the most impressive engineering feats

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ever undertaken at Giza, and it could have been avoided by designing the base sides slightly to the east (so yes, I have only just started speaking about the second Giza pyramid and have already introduced another topographical enigma) (Photo 3.5). Another masterpiece is the broad terrace of enormous limestone blocks which was used to level the terrain at the front, creating a spectacular platform over which the funerary temple was constructed and several boat pits excavated. The internal structure of the pyramid (as far as we know) is relatively simple. It consists of a granite-lined descending passage which starts on the north face, becomes horizontal at the level of the rock surface, and leads to the funerary chamber, which was excavated in a pit and then covered with a pent roof. The chamber still contains the black granite sarcophagus, half-sunk into the paving of the chamber. The descending passage is today closed and used for a ventilation plant, so it is impossible to visit it. I really do hope that the scholars who studied it in the past checked carefully that no joint with a hypothetical plugged ascending corridor exists on its ceiling. Assuming that such a corridor does not exist, the second pyramid has no internal, above-ground structure, although, in my view, it is highly probable that a “relieving” corridor similar to that of Meidum was located over the horizontal section of the passage. Another underground part exists, anyway. It consists of a second descending passage, excavated in the bedrock in front of the pyramid and nearly aligned with the other. This has prompted the suggestion that the pyramid was originally intended to be larger – which is frankly difficult to believe. I rather think that this passage was a service corridor. It rapidly becomes horizontal and leads to a small chamber fully carved in the rock in an east to west direction, with an excavated (that is, nonfunctional) pent roof. After this room, the corridor slopes up to join the first descending passage. The pyramid had no subsidiary pyramids for queens, but a satellite one is placed in the same position as that of Dahshur, aligned with the middle of the south side. It is badly damaged, but its substructure shows that it was almost certainly meant to house a statue, because the descending passage ends in a small niche. In this niche, pieces of cedar wood were found, forming a dismantled baldachin of the kind actually used to transport statues on ritual occasions.

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3.6.  Plan of the temples of the second pyramid of Giza: (1) funerary temple; (2) causeway (upper and lower ends); (3) Sphinx; (4) valley temple; (5) temple of the Sphinx.

To the east of the pyramid lie the remains of a magnificent funerary temple (Figure 3.6) of giant limestone blocks. It comprises an entrance courtyard, and an open court which contained 12 statues of unknown subjects (only the sockets remain). Beyond the court were five niches for further statues, each one with a storeroom. Finally, the rear side close to the pyramid probably housed a false door. A monumental causeway starts from the front of the temple and proceeds downhill until it arrives in the middle of two other megalithic temples. Coming from the direction of the pyramid, to the left, just before the temples, a large trench opens. In the centre, carved out of a pre-existing natural rock, sits the Sphinx. The Sphinx was sculpted by carving the head out of a pre-existing rock knoll and creating the body by excavating a huge trench around the knoll. Alas, most, if not all, of the original body is invisible, being covered by stones dating from various phases of – more or less acceptable  – restoration, the oldest going as far back as the New Kingdom.

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The body is, at any rate, that of a giant crouching lion. This idea of a statue of a lion with human head appears for the first time precisely with the Great Sphinx, although the association of the lion both as a solar symbol and as an “archetype” of the royal power probably already existed.12 Perhaps astronomy played a part in this process, since  – due to precession – the summer solstice was in the constellation Leo at the time of construction of the Giza monuments. The summer solstice is also the day of the main hierophany occurring at Giza (as we shall soon see), so the statue might really be a symbol of the sun merged with this constellation at the solstice. It is only from later New Kingdom depictions (Section 2.2 of Box 2), however, that we are sure that the Egyptians did recognise a crouching lion in the constellation we call Leo. What is more, the statue faces due east, and thus faces the rising sun at the equinoxes, not at the summer solstice. The Sphinx is enormous by any stretch of the imagination, being 57 metres long, 20 metres tall and with the width of its face spanning 4 metres. The head is clearly out of scale (that is, smaller) with the body, and this raises suspicions that it was resculpted. Another possibility is that the Egyptians first carved the head. Then, when they went on to carve the body, they discovered a huge natural fissure running crosswise and so opted for an enlargement for reasons of stability (Lehner 1999). This explanation seems sound, although I must confess that, in my modest view, even if it is the original face, the face of the Sphinx does not resemble at all the face of the Pharaoh who allegedly had it carved, Khafra. The face does resemble official images of some Middle Kingdom Pharaohs, especially Amenemhet III (Fay 1996, Temple and Temple 2009). However, no evidence of official activities of this (or a related) Pharaoh have ever been found in the Sphinx area. I thus tend to endorse the rather simple solution that the Sphinx is Khufu (Stadelmann 1985, 1998), also because this idea concurs with many other indications we are about to meet. In front of the Sphinx sits a building of huge megalithic blocks extracted from the trench. It is natural to think that the building was devoted to – or at least strictly connected with – the statue, so it is usually called the “temple of the Sphinx” (Photo 3.6). Curiously, though, no reliefs or any other signs of worshipping rituals which would have taken place there have been found, there is no direct communication between the temple and the Sphinx enclosure, and, among hundreds of honorary titles known from the tombs of the priests and overseers of

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Photo 3.6.  Giza. A front view of the Khafra valley complex. From left to right, the valley temple and the Sphinx temple in front of the Sphinx. In the background, the pyramids of Khafra (left) and Khufu (right).

the Old Kingdom necropolis, not even one seems to refer to a service at the Sphinx (the Sphinx temple was soon forgotten; it was interred and not known in the New Kingdom). The plan is based on an open rectangular court, probably housing 12 statues, of which only the sockets remain. The building is usually considered a temple to the sun, essentially because of the probable association of the Sphinx with the sun and because of the rigorous east to west orientation it exhibits. The valley temple of the second pyramid sits in line with the south side of the Sphinx temple. The causeway arriving from uphill forms the southern boundary of the precinct of the huge statue and then joins the temple in its north-west corner. The building consists basically of a pillared, T-shaped space and a few small annexed rooms enclosed like nutshells inside gigantic megalithic walls. The T-shaped hall housed 23 statues (as can be deduced from the sockets in place on the floor), one of which was probably double and has to be counted twice, so that in their “symbolic circuit” they equal in number the hours of the Egyptian day. Curiously, the Sphinx temple, with its central courtyard, is similar in plan and conception to the corresponding courtyard section of the funerary

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Photo 3.7.  Giza. A view of the T-shaped granite hall of the Khafra valley temple.

temple uphill so that, recombining on the same east to west axis the plans of the two temples downhill, one gets something very similar to the one uphill (Figure 3.6). It is clear from the preceding description that the second pyramid complex is a unique architectural masterpiece. The pyramid itself is only slightly smaller than the first, and to ascertain this there is no alternative but to measure it. So the main reason for calling the Khufu pyramid the first, or Great, pyramid is simply that everybody knew that it had been built first. And indeed there is scarcely any doubt as to who the king buried in the second Giza pyramid was, and to whom the funerary cult in the temple complex was dedicated. He was Khafra, in Greek Chepren, son and second successor to Khufu. The attribution to Khafra (apart from that of Herodotus, who wrote 2000 years later) is proved by inscriptions which are only slightly later in relation to the monument, like those in the nearby mastaba of Qar (Kelly Simpson 1976). Qar was overseer of the necropolis and therefore of the pyramids’ complexes. Since each pyramid complex had a specific name, a list of them is given in the inscriptions, and that of the second pyramid was Khafra is great. Moreover, while much uncertainty persists concerning the statues which

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were present in the funerary temple, many statues of the valley temple, those originally occupying the sockets in the T-shaped hall (Photo 3.7), have been recovered, one of them intact. This famous work of art, found by Auguste Mariette in a well in the floor of the temple entrance, represents King Khafra seated, with the Horus falcon at the back of his head, projecting his wings protectively around the king’s neck. Apart from wondering who was buried in the second pyramid, however, another burning question remains about this monument. Who was the king responsible for the planning of the second Giza complex? The answer to this question might be more complicated than expected.

3.6  The orientation of the fourth dynasty pyramids All Egyptian pyramids of the fourth, fifth and sixth dynasties (excluding Teti, Chapter 6) are oriented in such a way that the sides of their bases run parallel to the cardinal directions. It is, of course, natural to commit errors in taking any physical measurements, such as those required to obtain this orientation, and the Egyptians were no exception. Consequently, the east and west sides turn out not to have been laid precisely along the north to south axis, nor the north and south sides to be precisely along the east to west axis. Yet, to measure these deviations today, we need to use very accurate instruments such as a transit (theodolite) surveyor or high-precision global positioning system (GPS), since the errors committed by the Egyptians were astonishingly small, especially during the fourth dynasty. Exact measurements of pyramid orientation were first taken by Petrie (1883, 1892) and more recently by Dorner (1981). The results obtained by these authors are of course given within the accuracy of their instruments, which was very good in both cases (on the order of a few seconds of arc). However, it is much more reasonable to round the data to the nearest arc minute and consider them within the resolving power of the human eye, ±2′, which is also the average error of a well-trained naked-eye observer, such as those who originally performed the measurements. The data are (Belmonte 2001b): 1. Pyramid of Meidum: –18′; 2. Bent Pyramid: –12′; 3. Red Pyramid: –9′;

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4. Pyramid of Khufu: –3′; 5. Pyramid of Khafra: –6′; 6. Pyramid of Menkaura: +14′. I have omitted from the list the two fourth dynasty pyramids which we shall be discussing later, Djedefra at Abu Roash – which is in poor condition and not, in my opinion, measurable with a comparable degree of accuracy (in spite of contrasting claims; see Mathieu 2001)  – and the “Great Pit” at Zawiet el Arian, which regrettably has never been measured. Clearly, these are orientations which were obtained with a maniacal accuracy: the greatest error was made by the planners of Meidum, and it is less than one-third of a degree. The problem of exactly how such accuracy was obtained is quite delicate. Of course, the Egyptians did not have the magnetic compass, but this does not matter, since magnetic compasses cannot be that precise anyway. Furthermore, in spite of existing claims (see, for example, Isler 2001), it is nearly impossible to attain such a high precision using solar methods (for instance, bisecting the angle formed by the shadow of a post in two symmetric positions). Thus, there remains only one other possibility, the use of stars. To determine north in a precise way, one can measure the rising and setting positions of a bright star on an artificial horizon (a levelled wall) and then bisect the angle (Edwards 1952). This method, however, does not, of course, depend on precession, while it is very likely that the method used by the Egyptians did. To see this, observe that if one measures a physical quantity and repeats the measurement several times, the result will be a number of points scattered irregularly in a “band”, which would have the maximum error as its width. Thus, since the best accuracy obtainable with the naked eye by an expert astronomer is of the order of a few arc minutes, one would expect the errors of the pyramid’s orientation to fall randomly into a band of similar width, centred around true north. But this is not the case – the errors clearly form a pattern that is not random. The absolute value of the error drops from Meidum to Khufu, and then rises again from Khufu to Menkaura. This means that a time-dependent phenomenon is taking place, and this makes for a source of intrinsic error in the method employed to determine true north. This phenomenon is clearly precession (Haack 1984).

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3.7.  The simultaneous transit of Kochab and Mizar in the northern sky of Giza around 2500 BC.

The precession-dependent orientation procedure, which is by far the most likely candidate for the method used by the Egyptian surveyors, is the so-called simultaneous transit (Spence 2000 – see also Rawlins and Pickering 2001; Belmonte 2001b; Magli 2003, 2009a). It consists of observing two circumpolar stars. The surveyors kept track of their relative positions and identified north as the direction on the ground corresponding to the segment joining the two stars when it is perpendicular to the horizon. If the precessional drift of the segment is calculated as a function of time, the resulting graph is a straight line. On this line, the experimental points corresponding to the orientation errors can be positioned, and dates of construction can be read on the time axis. If the stars were sighted with one in the upper culmination and the other in the lower one, then they were most probably Kochab – a star we have already met  – and Mizar (zeta Ursa Majoris) (Figure 3.7). The corresponding chronology emerges, however, as being a little earlier than that usually accepted. Higher chronologies, such as the Baines and Malek one used in this book, fit better with the use of two stars sighted at the same (upper or lower) culmination: Megrez (delta Ursa Majoris) and Phecda (gamma Ursa Majoris).

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The simultaneous transit method is the only one ever proposed that takes into account the effect of precession on the distribution of the orientation errors and, at the same time, is compatible with what we know about the ancient Egyptians’ way of thinking and about the instrument they used, the Merkhet.13 But there is a problem. Looking at the true data (instead of looking at their absolute value), it is clear that the measurement made for the orientation of the second pyramid should precede, not follow, that of the first (Magli 2003). A workaround for this problem is that, for some unknown reason, the orientation ceremony of the second pyramid took place during summer, while that of all the others was carried out in winter. During winter, the segment between Kochab and Mizar is located “to the right” of the pole at night, hence in summer it is found “to the left”, leading to the inversion. A similar workaround functions with the other pair of stars, in this case admitting that for the Khafra pyramid the orientation was made observing the two stars at their lower culmination (i.e., “under” the pole), while for all the other pyramids the upper culmination was used. Of course, both are quite ad hoc solutions which – at least in my view – are not in agreement with what we know about the way of thinking of the ancient Egyptians. The foundation of a sacred building was indeed a complex ritual, in which the king performed a series of symbolic acts such as, for instance, the laying of the foundation’s deposits. Many such deposits have been recovered archaeologically in excavations of temples, but they occurred also at the pyramids, as the recovery of a foundation cavity containing a copper axe-head in the descending passage of the Djedefra pyramid has shown (Mathieu 2001). A fundamental part of the ritual, performed through the whole history of Egypt from Early Dynastic times, was the Stretching of the Cord. In a typical depiction of the ceremony, the Pharaoh is shown together with the goddess of wisdom and knowledge, Seshat, characterised by a curious emblem (a sort of star with seven rays, surmounted by an arch) on her head. The Pharaoh and the goddess face each other, and each of them has a kind of hammer in one hand and a rope-pulling pole in the other. It is clear that the operations are related to the orientation of the temple’s plan; unfortunately, no texts describing astronomical observations associated with the ceremony have been recovered that date to before the Ptolemaic and Roman periods. These later texts, however, make clear references to the observation of certain configurations of the constellation Meskhetyu; that is, the Big Dipper.

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If Old Kingdom depictions of the “Stretching of the Cord” do not help in clarifying the techniques, they do show the overriding significance of the rites associated with foundation, and the orientation of the king’s pyramid must have been an operation – a ceremony indeed – of the utmost significance. Therefore, it is likely that it would always have taken place under the same conditions. Furthermore, orientation data would be scattered more randomly if the season of foundation, or the choice of the star’s configuration at culmination, was random. So, how are we to solve this enigma? The natural solution comes from the fact that we are speaking of naked-eye observations, although aided with simple instruments, aimed at orienting huge monuments. In this context, as first noticed by Juan Belmonte, insisting that the data for the first and the second Giza pyramids – which are separated by 3′ – are really distinct is useless. Much more reasonable is the idea that the two orientations were performed at the same time. It follows that two projects were laid down simultaneously (Shaltout, Belmonte and Fekri 2007b; Magli 2005a, 2009a; Magli and Belmonte 2009).14 Is this really possible? Could it really be that Khafra only completed the construction of the second pyramid and its complex on the basis of an already existing project which included two pyramids and their annexes? If so, then this hypothetical overall Khufu project had such a degree of complexity as to be the most astonishing architectural feat ever pulled off in human history, aimed at constructing a gigantic sacred landscape, even more magnificent than that of Khufu’s father, Snefru. Well, believe it or not, we can still read the name of this sacred landscape once every year, in the form of the most awesome hierophany ever conceived on planet Earth. 3.7  The horizon of Khufu In the Old Kingdom, the king was surrounded by an elite entourage of officeholders and priests, who shared the king’s hopes for the afterlife and were buried near his pyramid. In a sense, the king’s Ka remained the head of the deceased souls, discharging his duty of carrying them to the afterworld. In particular, two vast cemeteries of mastabas are associated with Khufu’s tomb. The east cemetery is reserved mostly for the royal family and relatives, while the north cemetery is for court officials. The mastabas are arranged on a strictly orthogonal grid oriented towards the cardinal

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points (so that Khufu’s cemeteries at Giza are among the first examples of orthogonal town planning). One of the most important of Khufu’s east mastabas is certainly the one which lies at the beginning of the first row, in front of the queen’s pyramids. It belongs to a son of Khufu called Khaf-khufu (Kelly Simpson 1978). Since the name of the prince included (from right the royal name of his father, it is found written as to left, Kha-f-[Khufu cartouche]). The tomb is beautifully decorated, its most notable feature being the large carvings of Anubis which flank the entrance. It is, however, doubtful that Prince Khaf-khufu was buried here; besides, his name is not mentioned elsewhere, while many other of the king’s sons are known from various sources. Why? The location of the tomb shows that Khaf-khufu was quite an important person during Khufu’s reign, and Stadelmann (1984) has proposed a simple solution to this quandary: prince Khaf-khufu was none other than Khafra, who succeeded to the throne unexpectedly on Djedefra’s (the first successor of Khufu) sudden death. Upon succession, Stadelmann argues, he took the ; Khaf-khufu became Khaf-Ra. name This interpretation has been criticised in that the tradition of assuming a throne name in the titulary15 is well attested only later (Bolshakov 1995). But my view is that this is not the point, because in his specific case it is obvious that, if Khaf-khufu ascended to the throne, the Khufu part of his name would have had to be changed to Ra. Indeed, as we shall see in a while, Khufu was Ra, so what was Khaf-khufu supposed to do? Keep the father’s name with a cartouche inside his cartouche? Or perhaps debase the Khufu name by writing it without the cartouche? If Stadelmann’s Khaf-khufu = Khafra equation holds true, then it is natural to think that the newly succeeded king hastily abandoned his mastaba tomb in favour of a pyramid, perhaps one already under construction nearby, in a dock maintained by Djedefra (the cartouche of Djedefra appears in the Khufu boats’ pit, showing that Khufu’s first successor continued the works at Giza while building his own pyramid at Abu Roash). I am well aware that appropriation of monuments was not common in the Old Kingdom (while it became frequent in the New Kingdom). Yet, besides the question of his original name, there are a multitude of other clues of various origins, all pointing to the idea that Khafra, perhaps impelled by his sudden accession, chose to complete the second Giza project of his father as his own tomb.

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First of all, there is the satellite pyramid of the Great Pyramid, which, as we have seen, was added in haste to the existing project. Why? A solution might be that the Khufu project of course already included a carefully planned satellite pyramid, that of the second pyramid, located precisely in the same position as that in Dahshur: to the south of the south pyramid and aligned towards its center. As soon as the south pyramid was commandeered by Khafra, he ordered the construction of another satellite for his father. Second, there is the geological factor. Indeed, as we have already seen, the best place to have built the first pyramid at Giza would have been in the vicinity of the second. Furthermore, once it had been decided to build a pyramid in the position of the Great Pyramid, the natural place for the quarry would have been to the south-west, following the escarpment towards the area east of the second pyramid. And sure enough, the huge Khufu main quarry is precisely there (completely filled with debris, probably originating from the dismantling of the ramps), but it ends at the causeway of the second pyramid, which acts as a boundary (Lehner 1985a; Reader 2001). Clearly, this prompts the supposition that at least the project of the causeway was already in existence when the blocks were quarried. Third, as discussed in the previous section, the orientation data clearly point to the planning of the second pyramid a few years before the first, with the error bands overlapping sufficiently to let us assume that they were planned together. Fourth, archaeoastronomy can furnish us with a series of other clues confirming the existence of an original double project at Giza. The proof stems from the profound connection of the Giza pyramid’s complexes with the sun, as I shall now explain, starting with the second pyramid. As already mentioned, the causeway slopes down straight from the funerary temple to a point, which we shall now indicate as O′, located at the north-west corner of the valley temple, reachable from the inside of the building through a spectacular corridor cased in granite (Photo 3.8); over this point there also passes the ideal prolongation of the southern side of the pyramid. A series of astronomical alignments relate this point (and, slightly more generally, the area in front of the Sphinx temple) to the western artificial horizon which was formed by the construction of the two great

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Photo 3.8.  Giza. The ascending corridor inside the Khafra valley temple.

pyramids. These alignments are related to the cycle of the sun from the spring equinox to the autumn equinox. First of all, since a line running due west passes along the south side of the pyramid, the sun at the equinoxes was (and is) seen setting in alignment with the south-east corner on those days. Second, the alignment defined by the causeway is oriented 14° north of west. The azimuth of the setting sun at the summer solstice

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Photo 3.9.  Giza, summer solstice 2011. Akhet, the name of the Khufu project, has been rewritten once a year for 4500 years on the Giza plateau and is composed by two enormous stone monuments and the sun setting in between them. This picture was taken from the terrace in front of the Sphinx.

at the latitude of Giza is ~28° north of west, and therefore this alignment coincides with the midpoint of the path of the setting sun at the horizon between the spring equinox and midsummer and between midsummer and the autumn equinox (Bauval and Hancock 1997). Finally, let us consider the line which points towards the midpoint of the segment, separating the south-west corner of the two pyramids. The azimuth of this line is twice that of the causeway, ~28° north of west, and therefore it coincides with that of the sun at the summer solstice. Consequently, the midsummer sun is seen setting in between the two (Photo 3.9). The symbolism implicit in this alignment was noticed for the first time by Egyptologist Mark Lehner during his fieldwork at the plateau (Lehner 1985b, 1999). He realised that, when the midsummer sun sets, an observer actually witnesses the formation of a spectacular replica of the hieroglyph -Akhet. This sign represents the sun setting (or rising) between the two -djew mountains. This dramatic phenomenon is thus a hierophany, a manifestation of divinity which occurs every year of a celestial cycle. Indeed the word Akhet, usually translated simply as “horizon”, had a profound

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symbolic meaning for the ancient Egyptians. As we already know, the double mountains were associated with the afterlife. By connecting them with the sun, an even stronger image associated with rebirth was created. The region called Akhet in the Pyramid Texts has the same root as -Akh, spirit, and denotes the place where the dead were transformed, preparing themselves for the afterworld. As part of the sky, it was also the place in which the sun, and hence the king, was destined to be reborn. Finally, the choice of the summer solstice for the date was clearly not coincidental, since it heralded the flooding of the Nile, and thus the theoretical beginning of the flood season (of course, the actual count of the civil calendar had already drifted by a considerable number of days; see Section 2.1 of Box 2). Let us now analyse the astronomical alignments (Figure 3.8) of the layout of the first Giza complex. This analysis will be (of necessity) more speculative given that the valley temple is submerged by the houses of the modern village. Probes operating there (Messiha 1983; Goyon 1985; see also Lehner 1999) unearthed walls made of huge limestone blocks and a narrow corridor cased by basalt blocks. From the plans of these excavations, it is apparent that an important building, a royal palace, if not the valley temple itself, was located in the area where the ideal prolongation of the northern side of the pyramid and the causeway intersect each other, at a point which we shall denote by O. Clearly, such a point – an analogue of point O' – played a special role in the plan of the complex.16 By drawing from this point a set of lines specular to those of O′, we see that they are related to the cycle of the sun from the autumn equinox to the spring equinox. Indeed, a line directed due west passes near the north side of the pyramid, and therefore the sun at the equinoxes was (and is) seen setting in alignment with the northern corner on those days. The alignment defined by the causeway is oriented 14° south of west, and therefore coincides with the midpoint of the path of the setting sun at the horizon between the autumn equinox and midwinter and between midwinter and the spring equinox. Finally, the line of the setting sun at the winter solstice (~28° south of west) is directed towards the second Giza complex and passes near the centre of the funerary temple. As a result, the midwinter sun is seen setting beyond the second pyramid (Magli 2008a, b). Taken as a whole, the two complexes have specular alignments. In particular, each complex embodies a hierophany at a different solstice,

The lords of the horizon

3.8.  The astronomical alignments of the valley temples of the two main pyramids of Giza.

a hierophany which can only manifest itself in the presence of the other complex.17 The fact that the astronomical alignments associated with the valley complexes mirror each other and that one of them on each side effectively requires the presence of the other pyramid to work is certainly another impressive indication of there being an overall project. However, of course, one could take the point of view that it was Khafra himself who demanded rigorous symmetry in the planning of the astronomical alignments of his own complex. Then, one could also think that Khaf-khufu was not Khafra, and that Khufu did not select the most favourable position to the south-west because he wished his tomb to be placed on the rocky spur of the plateau. At this point, clearly, one might also surmise that Khufu hastily added a satellite pyramid to his previously planned complex for unknown reasons – and yes, one can also assume an ad hoc explanation for the anomalous orientation of the second pyramid and, furthermore, conjecture that it was Khafra who built his pyramidal complex to be slightly smaller than that of his father as a sign of respect and/or to save a few hundred thousand tons of material, and that for the same reason he did not order the construction of pyramids for his queens. Finally, one can certainly admit that the Khufu stonemasons meticulously cut

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their quarry in such a way as to have a straight, astronomically oriented boundary to the south of it, suitable for a future causeway, and that the artist who sculpted the Sphinx as Khafra opted for an exaggerated smoothing of the king’s outline towards a symbolic face or perhaps towards that of his father. But, we have the very last piece of the puzzle to consider. We can learn the name of the pyramid of Khufu from many sources; for instance, the ; that is, “The Akhet of list present in Qar’s mastaba. It was Khufu” (Akhet is written here as Akh-t). Therefore, the name bequeathed to us for the Great Pyramid is the same as that of the spectacular hierophany occurring at Giza at the summer solstice. In other words, this hierophany replicates the very same name as the Khufu project in the sky once a year.18 Is it really possible at this point to persist in thinking that it was Khafra who asked his architects and astronomers to embody the name of his father’s pyramid in his own complex? I think that the answer is: no, it is not possible. The correspondence between hieroglyphs expressing sacred things and what they represented was usually pretty exact; for instance, as we have seen, the altar for offerings was a sort of gigantic replica of its own hieroglyph. Therefore, the Khufu complex was called Akhet because it actually was the Akhet – the horizon – pertaining to the divine Khufu, who had been united with the sun god, probably already in life. Indeed there are hints indicating that Khufu depicted himself as the incarnation of Ra (Stadelmann 1991; Hawass 1993). Certainly he inaugurated a long period of kings, “sons of Ra”, and, as we shall see in the following chapters, all the subsequent “solarised” kings felt the need to model the sacred landscape in such a way as to render explicit their direct lineage from the sun god. In the case of Khufu, the meaning of such a gigantic, almost inconceivable sacred landscape can be better understood by comparing it to that of his father. The similarities between the sacred landscape devised by Snefru at Dahshur and the project of the two main pyramids at Giza are indeed striking: two giant pyramids of almost equal height, with two different slopes (recall that the upper section of the Bent Pyramid has the same slope as the Red Pyramid, so that only two differing slopes are present at Dahshur), two sets of annexed buildings, and only one satellite pyramid on the axis of the southernmost main pyramid. The key difference is that the Snefru project was planned to dominate the Saqqara landscape to the south as a double mountain sign , while Khufu chose to transform the symbol of his father into an

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even more powerful symbol of rebirth, the Akhet sign , by “adding” the sun in between his own paired mountains. Well, the time has come to conclude this chapter, and yes, for me it is as difficult as leaving the Giza plateau after sunset at the summer solstice. So, let us cast a last backward glance together at the double mountains of Giza on a summer evening, when the sky is usually cloudless and the sun casts a shimmering red light onto the desert sands, just before setting. A message written 4500 years ago can still be read with perfect clarity. This message is, that the horizon belongs to Khufu.19

Box 3. The Seked and the pyramid’s slopes   The principal Egyptian unit of measure was the cubit; the length of the cubit during dynastic Egypt can be estimated at 52.6 ± 0.3 centimetres. Egyptian numerals were based on a decimal system. In spite of this, for unknown reasons which nobody has ever dared to investigate, they chose to subdivide the cubit into seven palms, and each palm was divided into four digits, giving a total of 28 elementary units. The use of the cubit is well documented: many examples of cubit rods have been recorded archaeologically, and most pyramid and temple measurements can of course be expressed in whole numbers of cubits. A delicate issue, however, is the way in which angles were measured in pyramid building. It is, in fact, abundantly clear that the Egyptians used the most simple and effective method: measuring angles in terms of integer fractions or, as we would say today, in terms of rational tangents. For this reason, in the present book all pyramid slopes are given in terms of rational fractions (Tables A.3, A.4, A.5, A.6); for instance, the slope of the Khufu pyramid is 14/11, that of Khafra 4/3. Measuring angles in this way, quarrymen did not have to use the cubit to cut the casing blocks with the correct angle. For Khufu, all they had to do was to count 14 (arbitrary) units vertically for every 11 of the same units counted horizontally. It was even easier for Khafra because the triangular section of the casing blocks forms a Pythagorean triangle (all integer sides 3–4–5), so that the hypotenuse could be checked accurately by counting five units on it. However, from the time of the Middle Kingdom – when the only two (continued)

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mathematical papyri known to us, the Rhind and the Moscow, were first written – the use of a special measure called Seked is documented. A Seked was the number of palms and digits spanned horizontally for each cubit rise; in other words, it is a ratio in which the numerator is the base in cubits of a right triangle of one cubit height. This clearly is not a clever way of using rational tangents. In fact, rational tangents per se are what are called in physics pure numbers, nondimensional quantities. Insisting on using the Seked presupposes a unit of measure and therefore introduces errors, since the accuracy cannot be better than the smallest subunit, in this case the finger – in a context where a unit is not needed. In spite of the fact that no documentation of the Seked in Old Kingdom pyramid building exists, it is usually assumed that it was used by the builders (see, for example, Rossi 2003). This has led to unnecessary, not to say ridiculous, complications. For instance, the simple ratio 4/3 becomes 21 digits (or 5 palms 1 digit); if the Seked was used, each quarryman would have had to use a graded cubit with 28 signs, thereby increasing the possibility of error enormously. The situation becomes absurd when one has to express the staggeringly simple ratio 3/2  – which was used for the pyramid of Unas – as a Seked. Please try. Yes, it is impossible. To summarise, I do not believe that the Egyptians could have used such an unnecessarily complicated method when constructing the Old Kingdom pyramids. This is an important point because insisting on the idea that the Seked was used in the Old Kingdom can prompt serious errors of interpretation, as it enforces approximations to the nearest digit which were not intended by the builders. Another delicate point on which there is much confusion in the literature concerns the slope of the pyramids’ corners. In any squared pyramid, the tangent of the slope and that of the corner angle form an irrational ratio, fixed and equal to √2. In other words, only one of the two can be rational. It is, in my view, impossible to choose the corner angle and then build the pyramid without also having close control of the slope angle. The reverse is less essential, since what is really required at the corner is a very careful cut of a limited number of corner stones (four times the number of stone courses, so up to one thousand in the case of Khufu) – which can be done in practice

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(with stick and cord) without explicitly calculating the value of the corner angle. A final question is: by what criteria was the slope of a pyramid chosen during the Old Kingdom? An observation we might make to start off with is that the “trivial” slope 1/1 was stringently avoided for the kings’ pyramids. The slopes are always considerably steeper, with a single exception at Dahshur, where for the upper part of the Bent Pyramid and for the Red Pyramid the Pythagorean slope 20/21 (hypotenuse 29) was chosen (the initial slope of the Bent Pyramid and the slope of the pyramidion of the Red Pyramid correspond instead to the rational tangent 7/5). As far as Meidum is concerned, according to Petrie, the final slope of this pyramid was 14/11, equal to that of Khufu (an assertion that I have tried more than once to verify on site, obtaining higher but varying results each time). If Petrie’s measure is correct, perhaps it is proof that Snefru really did turn Meidum into a geometrical pyramid later in his reign. In any case, from Khufu onwards, we enter the long phase of the solar kings of the fourth and fifth dynasties, during which the values of the slopes oscillate within a small but effective range (with the final exception of the very steep slope of the pyramid of Unas, a likely reason for which is discussed in Chapter 6). Finally, with the sixth dynasty, the projects of the pyramids conform rigidly to a fixed standard and the slope stabilises at the Pythagorean 4/3 slope, which – as mentioned before – is without doubt the “simplest” (regardless of whether this triangle was also considered “sacred” – as claimed by much later, classical writers). Thus, in the period of the “solarised” kings of the fourth and fifth dynasties, the slopes show a sort of experimentation being carried out; values vary in a range between 6/5 and 4/3 (about 3°, between 50° and 53°). A suggestion has been made that slopes were connected with the sun in that the 4/3 triangle arose from the measure of the sun at culmination at the winter solstice, this measure being close to the complementary angle (Magdolen 2000). However, this coincidence clearly has no appreciable effect on the illumination of the pyramid’s faces, so it is another example of the kind of “abstract” reasoning supposedly applied by Egyptian architects of which we have (continued)

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no proof whatsoever. A more likely possibility, still connected with the sun, centres on the fact that our star at the summer solstice in the area of Memphis passed at a height ~53° at azimuth 90°; that is, in correspondence with due east (Belmonte and Zedda 2007). This means that, on pyramids with slopes close to or slightly lower than these values, an effect of illumination took place for some days around the summer solstice: the west and south faces were quite abruptly, but fully, lit up by the ascending sun at the moment it crossed the first vertical.

4 A mirage from Heliopolis

4.1  A mirage from Heliopolis If one observes a map of the monuments on the Giza plateau, the ­existence of a topographical axis (Figure 4.1) immediately strikes the eye. This axis is oriented south-west to north-east (azimuth 45°) and is most easily followed starting from the south-west and thus from the third Giza complex, that of Menkaura (which will be discussed in detail later in this chapter). The line runs along the diagonal of Menkaura’s first queen’s pyramid, touches the south-east corner of Menkaura’s pyramid, follows the diagonal of his funerary temple, passes the south-east corner of the second pyramid court, cuts the diagonal of the fore-temple, touches the south-east corner of Khufu’s pyramid and very nearly cuts the diagonal of his first queen’s pyramid (the south-east corner of the second pyramid misses the axis by less than 30 metres, the azimuth of the connecting line between the apexes of the two main pyramids being about 43°). The deliberate planning of this axis is self-evident, and its existence is well known (Lehner 1985b; Jeffreys 1998). It is clearly much more than a simple survey line; it is a primary, artificial, topographical feature. But why was it executed? The answer lies at some distance from Giza, to the north-east, on the other bank of the Nile. Indeed, if the axis is prolonged across the river, it points in the direction of the city of Heliopolis. Heliopolis – called Iunu- (pillar) – was one of the major religious centres of ancient Egypt, active from the second dynasty. It was dedicated to the sun, as it housed the most important temple of Ra. Although we do not know to what extent, it is certain that astronomy was practised there, as it is specified in various sources as one of the pursuits of the

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4.1.  The Giza axis. The line runs along the diagonal of Menkaura’s first queen’s pyramid, the south-east corner of Menkaura’s pyramid, the diagonal of his funerary temple, the south-east corner of the second pyramid court, the diagonal of the fore-temple, the south-east corner of Khufu’s pyramid and the diagonal of Khufu’s first queen’s pyramid.

priesthood. Heliopolis was also a primary theological centre, where the dominant cosmological doctrine of the Old Kingdom was formulated. This doctrine, sometimes called the Great Ennead because it was based on nine gods, was of paramount importance because it included the myth of the line of descent of Osiris and therefore underpinned the divine nature of the monarch, identified with Osiris’ son Horus. As a matter of fact, according to one version of the myth, the temple of Heliopolis marked the place of a pyramid-shaped sacred stone, the Ben-Ben. The stone was linked with sun worship in that it marked the spot of the “first sun”, arriving in the guise of a bird on the “primeval hill”, sometimes viewed as a sort of isle in a primordial watery marsh. The first sun was the creator god, Atum, who created the sun and incorporated it within him as Ra-Atum. He then created the first divine couple, Shu and Tefnut (air and water), who in turn begat Geb and Nut (earth and sky). And so the world was created; from Geb and Nut came forth Seth, Nephthys, Osiris and Isis, the final two being the parents of Horus. Heliopolis is mentioned in the Pyramid Texts; since reference is also made to Ennead theology, parts of the texts might well have been written right there. Unfortunately, little remains today of the sacred centre, whose ruins lie under the modern buildings of Cairo in a district known as Mataria. Portions of the mudbrick walls of the temple perimeter were

A mirage from Heliopolis

still visible in the nineteenth century and were estimated to be about 1.2 × 1 kilometres. This vast sacred area contained, as was customary in Egypt, subsequent additions made by different Pharaohs during millennia. The plan of the main temple of the sun remains unknown, but there is a general consensus that the main features of this temple must have been later replicated in the project of the so-called sun temples of the fifth dynasty (we shall come back to this problem in Chapter 5). These temples were characterised by huge obelisks, and indeed a great number of obelisks were erected at Heliopolis. Most of them, however, have been removed over the centuries, starting with the Romans. For instance, the Flaminian obelisk in Rome, first erected by Augustus in the Circus Maximus, was later transported to Piazza del Popolo by Pope Sixtus V. Today, at Heliopolis only one obelisk remains standing. It was originally one of a pair placed in front of the pylon of the main temple and was erected by Senwosret I, the second Pharaoh of the twelfth dynasty. It was restored in 1950 but, as far as I was able to ascertain, it stands in its original position or perhaps a few metres to the east. I have therefore taken this obelisk as the Heliopolis survey point for the purposes of the present book. The land between Giza and Heliopolis is occupied by the Nile Valley, so an unobstructed line of sight connected the two places in ancient times. However, the earth is round and, in view of the distances which come into play, we have to take the earth’s curvature into account. This can easily be done by using the so-called horizon formula (actually a straightforward application of Pythagoras’ theorem). A handy version of this formula is the following. The maximal distance in kilometres at which an object of height h can be seen equals approximately the square root of 13h if h is expressed in metres. It follows, for instance, that a person 2 metres tall has a visible horizon slightly greater than 5 kilometres. If the object sighted has a nonnegligible height, then the two heights have to be added together. Consequently, a sun-reflecting signal located in Heliopolis at, say, 20 metres above the ground would easily have been visible from the west bank, located at an average of some 20 metres above the plain. Such a signal might have been a movable one on the temple floor, or an observation post situated at the top of a provisional wooden structure. On the opposite side, of course, once the building sites of the pyramids reached a sufficient height, the upper courses became definitively inter-visible (the fascinating view of the Giza

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pyramids from Heliopolis could still be enjoyed at the end of the nineteenth century, as confirmed by paintings of the time). Thus the Giza axis deliberately pointed to Heliopolis, and the two places, though quite a distance apart, “spoke” to each other. But why? To try to understand the meaning of the Giza axis, it is advisable to gain more insight into the role of the sun god Ra during the Old Kingdom (Quirke 2001). This god, by far the most important in this period, was worshipped in various forms, each associated with a different aspect, or role. As mentioned before, Ra-Atum was the creator of both other deities and human beings. But Ra, of course, travelled across the sky, so that another of his guises, the falcon god Ra-Horakhti, was identified with the morning sun; the sun disk itself was considered to be the visible body of Ra, or sometimes only his “Eye”. The sun sailed through the sky on his bark, mentioned in the Pyramid Texts as one of the places where the deceased Pharaoh had a designated seat. During the night, Ra entered the underworld, only to be reborn the following dawn. This is an obsessive, constant motif throughout all Egyptian funerary art and texts of the New Kingdom, but in its first version it already appears in the Pyramid Texts. Entering the netherworld means entering the realm of Osiris, and indeed the evolving relationship between the two gods was to suffuse the whole history of Egyptian beliefs and architecture. Finally, Ra had a direct influence on the earth, governing the seasons; this influence was recognised especially in the association of the summer solstice with the flooding of the Nile. Given such a complex religious scenario, it is not surprising that the relationship of the sun god with kingship came to be the most significant element of the ideology of power during the Old Kingdom. The point of rupture, the moment when the Pharaohs adopted their solar identification as the true basis of kingship, appears to have been during Khufu’s reign. This conclusion can be drawn from a series of hints gleaned from architecture, since no theological text has come directly down to us. These hints indicate that Khufu in some way declared himself to be the sun god. His sons and grandsons would consequently start to define themselves as “son of Ra” and to acquire explicitly the Raparticle in their names. Since Heliopolis was – at least in a sense – the birthplace of Ra, an explicit, topographical linking of the kings’ tombs with the sacred centre becomes understandable. This topographical relationship can be defined as dynastic, like several others we shall encounter later on; it is perhaps reflected in a passage of the Pyramid Texts (PT 307)

A mirage from Heliopolis

where the king states “My father is an Onite, and I myself am an Onite, born in On when Ra was ruler” (On stands for Heliopolis in the Faulkner translation). To summarise, then, the deliberateness of the planning of the Giza axis facing Heliopolis is comprehensible in the sense of a direct link between the funerary complex of the king to the west (Giza) and the “solarisation” of his rebirth to the east (Heliopolis). Moreover, it can be observed that with the azimuth of the axis (~45° south of west), the traditional inter-cardinal orientation – which was characteristic of the sacred centre of Abydos  – was also incorporated into the project, which may lead to the suspicion that one of the reasons for the choice of the Giza plateau was its azimuth from Heliopolis.1 As discussed in Chapter 1, this direction pointed towards the setting of the brightest part of the Milky Way. In particular, at the time of Khufu, an observer looking towards Giza from Heliopolis (thus at azimuth ~ 225°) would have seen the stars of the Southern Cross, followed by the very bright stars of Centaurus, “flowing” together with the great celestial river and disappearing from view behind the apex of the Great Pyramid. All this, however, has not exhausted the symbolic content of the Giza axis, for a rather peculiar fact still remains to be examined (Magli 2008a). As a consequence of the Giza axis, anyone approaching Heliopolis and looking towards Giza in ancient times could only see the Great Pyramid, because the second pyramid (to say nothing of the third) was almost hidden from sight by the gigantic mass of the first. In other words, it can be said that, although the sites of Giza and Heliopolis are inter-visible, the second and third pyramids were constructed along a line which had the effect of making them invisible from there. Looking from Heliopolis (and also, of course, from any other point along the axis), the Giza pyramids seem to “contract” on each other, and finally their images merge into that of the Great Pyramid, forming a spectacular optical effect, a sort of mirage. Today it is impossible to verify this mirage from the centre of Cairo, owing to the presence of buildings and smog. However, if we extend the line in the opposite direction, towards the desert to the south-west, it passes over the Fayum highway. From there the view is quite clear, and stopping by the roadside, it is possible to see the ­“opposite” mirage; that is, to see the mass of the Great Pyramid vanishing behind the second (of course the third pyramid in this case will be in the foreground).

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Photo 4.1.  Giza. A photograph taken from the first of Menkaura’s queen pyramids, looking north-east along the Giza axis. In this precise spot, 4500 years ago, the Menkaura surveyors were working, charged with the duty of aligning the king’s project along the Giza axis, in spite of the fact that the required place was – exactly as it is today – lost in the desert.

It is obvious that whenever one puts two almost identical pyramids in a restricted area, there will always exist a line of sight along which they are seen to merge. Khufu’s (or Khafre’s) architect thus intentionally resolved to lay out the second pyramid so that the two merge when seen from Heliopolis, and this was duly followed by Menkaura’s architects as well (Photo 4.1). Khufu was, and remained, in this way the lord of the horizon from everywhere but one point, which was a “symbolic pillar” itself. From that point, the double-peaked horizon was slowly and modestly reduced to a single, although giant, pyramid. The end result of such frenetic building activity is that Giza is a stunning example of a sacred landscape, a place where many, if not all, details were planned in line with ideas which had much more to do with symbolism and religion than with practicality and functionality. The model inaugurated at Giza was to be re-elaborated later, and would lead to the peculiar structuring of the whole sacred topography of the Memphite area. Indeed, what Khufu actually invented is a way of interpreting and modelling the sacred landscape which governed the positioning of all

A mirage from Heliopolis

pyramids up to the end of the fifth dynasty. This model, which I have termed “symbolic invisibility” elsewhere (Magli 2010a, c), requires the funerary monuments to be built along visual axes which connect to a chosen element of the layout of each existing pyramid belonging to dynastically related Pharaohs. Interestingly, as we shall see in Chapter 5, although of “Heliopolitan” – and therefore topographical – origin, these axes also appear to be related to the stars, as does the one in Giza. But before we can analyse this topic, we must still discuss as many as three fourth dynasty projects. 4.2  The Menkaura project Khafra’s son Menkaura was the builder of the third pyramid complex of Giza. His pyramid is small compared with the two giants (66 metres tall, 105 metres wide at the base) but encompasses several impressive technical tours de force. First of all, from an aerial view of the Giza plateau, it is immediately evident that the best place to build a pyramid, considering the two already standing, is to the edge of the rocky plateau, more or less on the same meridian as Khafra’s funerary temple and therefore many hundreds of metres to the east of the actual position. Menkaura’s pyramid is instead lost in the desert, and we are not talking here about a mere portable gazebo in a garden. It was also intended to be cased with heavy blocks of red granite at least up to the first 10–15 courses, and accordingly these slabs were painstakingly heaved to the godforsaken site where Menkaura wished to design his eternal resting place. Many of these granite blocks remain, and many of these are undressed, indicating that the backbreaking work was interrupted on the Pharaoh’s death. Another feature which is unbelievably complicated is the substructure of the pyramid. In Menkaura’s complex, the construction technique based on the open pit (used for Khafra and also for two other fourth dynasty pyramids, as we shall see in Section 4.3) was abandoned. The substructure is carved out completely in the rock. It is connected with the lower courses by a descending passage, while another passage to the antechamber ends in the nucleus and was probably used as a service passage during construction. Furthermore, for unknown reasons, the funerary chamber was constructed in spite of the fact that the chamber, being itself carved in the rock, did not need such construction. Every time I

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visit the internal apartment of Menkaura, I never cease to be amazed by the apparently crazy scheme which was pulled off here. Let me now endeavour to explain. The descending passage slopes down with the usual angle. Then it becomes horizontal and widens a little into a sort of corridor decorated with stylised false doors. The lintel of the exit is also decorated, carved to resemble a drum roll. The horizontal passage then opens out into a vast room, giving a spectacular effect comparable to that conveyed by the Grand Gallery. The room is sometimes called an antechamber, but I prefer the term atrium since it is a huge space entirely and meticulously carved into the bedrock, and the final chamber is not accessed at the same level but through a wide, descending gallery located in the middle of the room (the dummy passage mentioned earlier exits in the same room, at a higher level over the horizontal passage). Before reaching the funerary chamber, on the right, we find a small room with six niches, probably used as a storeroom. The burial chamber of Menkaura is a box made out of red granite ashlars, with the lower surface of the slabs forming the ceiling worked to resemble a round barrel vault. The box was undoubtedly prefabricated and then reassembled in its final place, which of course, being at a lower level in relation to the atrium, is itself excavated in the bedrock. This means that the box has no structural function whatsoever; it is a sort of independent structure, a tabernacle built inside the pyramid with the aim of isolating the king’s sarcophagus (found intact in the nineteenth century but unfortunately moved and lost in a shipwreck) from the rock around. The builders managed to construct it only with tremendous effort. The slabs of the ceiling were indeed put in place with the help of an opening on the west wall of the atrium. Even today, one can clamber from here into the small space left between the slabs and the roof of the excavated chamber and touch the rough surface of the huge blocks from the quarries in Aswan 800 kilometres to the south, whose only purpose was to form a symbolic “tent” over the Pharaoh’s resting place. To the south of Menkaura’s pyramid, three “queens’” pyramids can be seen. The main pyramid has no known satellite pyramid, but perhaps the easternmost “queen” – with a T-shaped substructure – was, at least initially, meant to have this function. The complex of the annexes was conceived of on a spectacular scale, but remained unfinished. In particular, the funerary temple was built with gargantuan limestone blocks

A mirage from Heliopolis

weighing more than 200 tons. The intention was to encase it with slabs of green granite, but the work was stopped, and so we can visit it as a building site left frozen in the state it was in 4500 years ago. This is particularity evident in the north corridor. The hard stone slabs which had just arrived from the Nile were placed on both sides of the corridor, and the master masons evidently abandoned the work of cutting the backs of the limestone blocks of the walls to embed the slabs perfectly. Among archaeological finds made here are the fragments of a huge alabaster statue of the king, which probably stood at the centre of the final hall, looking along the axis of the causeway. The Menkaura causeway was in fact oriented east to west, the only possible solution for maintaining order in the directions of the Giza causeways, since the previous two were oriented in specular directions in relation to the parallel (Figure 3.3). Although the causeway was left incomplete and does not reach the (scant) remains of the valley temple, it is still an exciting experience to ascend to the pyramid using the existing part of it. It is a quiet zone of the Giza area, and the gigantic blocks of the funerary temple, with the pyramid in the background, soon tower on the horizon. At one point, the Menkaura complex dominates the view so pervasively (Photo 4.2) that one tends to forget about the imposing presence of the other pyramids – a point I shall come back to shortly. The Menkaura project was, then, to all intents a gigantic one. Granted, the size of the pyramid is considerably diminished when compared with the two other Giza projects. Yet the technical difficulties involved in transporting thousands of tons of granite slabs to the building site, only to encase the pyramid and to construct a granite chamber in the prebuilt rock-cut burial chamber, were herculean. So, why was the pyramid located at such a distance? A first, basic answer is at our disposal. It was mandatory to align the pyramid in an “invisible” way to Heliopolis, and indeed we already know that as many as three key architectural features of the Menkaura project lie on the Giza axis: the diagonal of the first queen’s pyramid, the south-east corner of the king’s pyramid and the diagonal of the funerary temple (Figure 4.1 and Photo 4.1). Of course, to fix the position of a cardinally oriented square (the base of a pyramid) on the ground, once it has been decided that a corner must slide along a fixed line (the Giza axis), another degree of freedom remains, namely where to stop the corner point. It was thus possible to construct the third pyramid closer

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Photo 4.2.  Giza. The Menkaura pyramid towers at the horizon when viewed from the causeway. The huge blocks of the funerary temple can be seen in the foreground.

to the second one, slightly shortening the distance from the cultivation. However, the position of the pyramid was fixed in such a way that the distance of its apex from the apex of Khafra’s roughly equals the distance between the apex of Khafra and that of Khufu. According to a controversial hypothesis, this leads to a resemblance (claimed not to be coincidental) with the relative position in the sky of the stars of Orion’s Belt (Bauval 1989; Bauval and Gilbert 1994). The similarity is made more resounding by the fact that the pyramid which is supposed to represent the least brilliant star of the three, Mintaka, is also the smallest, and also by the position of the Nile if it is viewed as a terrestrial counterpart of the Milky Way. This idea has given rise to an abundance of wild speculation which is totally unconnected with science and therefore will not be addressed here. As far as the point itself is concerned, it should first of all be made clear that the idea has little to do with archaeoastronomy either, since the alleged resemblance does not correspond to astronomical alignments (Magli and Belmonte 2009). Having said that, it seems to me patently obvious that – regardless of who devised the projects, whether Khufu on his own or Khufu plus Khafra – the architectural ensemble of the two great pyramids of Giza was unrelated to any idea of “replicating” the sky on the ground. That leaves precious little hope that it was a conscious decision taken by Menkaura and his architects. However, there are other

A mirage from Heliopolis

factors which might have influenced the king’s choices. First of all, as mentioned earlier, the distance of the complex from the others makes it tower over the visitor in spite of its “small” dimensions. Furthermore, given the complex relationship of the two existing projects with the sun cycle and the equinoctial orientation of the Menkaura causeway, one may suspect that the third pyramid was meant to be placed in such a way that the sun at the winter solstice could be seen to set behind the pyramid from the Sphinx area, an event which would clinch the “Orion correlation” once and for all. Actually, this does not occur, as the required position along the Giza axis would have been on the Maadi hills, many hundreds of metres to the south-west. However, the pyramid is sufficiently displaced at the horizon to be a spectacular marker of the approach of the sun to the solstice, which is seen to set to the immediate south of the monument. Finally, and most importantly of all, if Menkaura was “a star of Orion’s Belt”, why was his pyramid called “Menkaura is divine” rather than being called a star, as two previous pyramids actually were? 4.3  The star pyramids and their enigmas Standing on the esplanade to the north of the Great Pyramid and looking north-west, a contour of low, white hills can be seen. One of the terraces of these hills has too regular a form and, in fact, it is what remains of the pyramid of the immediate successor to Khufu, his son Djedefra. The monument is located some 8.5 kilometres north-west of Giza and lies today inside the quarry area of Abu Roash, on the Giza to Alexandria road. Abu Roash was not virgin soil when Djedefra chose it, since Early Dynastic burials have been found there, and the existence of a huge enclosure – today lost – in the nearby site of El Deir has been recorded (on the so-called Lepsius 1 pyramid; see later in this section). The pyramid of Djedefra, with a side base of 106 metres, was not so enormous in comparison with his father’s, but the prominent position chosen would have made it dramatically visible from the Giza plateau, indeed the “tallest” pyramid ever constructed. The converse view was even more spectacular (Photo 4.3); in fact, even today, on a very clear day after a rainstorm, I have experienced the emotion of recognising the unmistakable profile of the Bent Pyramid when looking south from Abu Roash. The monument of Djedefra was, however, left unfinished, and stone robbers reduced it to what can be seen today. Since it is virtually a

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Photo 4.3.  Abu Roash. The view towards Giza on a clear day.

building site left as a fossil from the pyramid age, the scientific interest of the Abu Roash hill is clearly immense. The lower courses of the pyramid were cased in granite, put in place on inclined layers. From the slope of the casing blocks, a projected height of around 67 metres can be estimated. The interior chambers were left to open view, and we can thus perceive the way in which they were built. Djedefra’s architects excavated a huge T-shaped pit (23 × 10 metres in area and around 20 metres deep) where an antechamber/chamber system was to be covered with huge limestone vaults. The pit is accessed by means of a descending ramp which, once completed, was to be all but filled with blocks, leaving only the narrow descending corridor, which we can walk through in the other pyramids. This work was actually commenced, as some limestone blocks aligned with the sides of the ramp testify (Photo 4.4). The funerary temple was built in the standard position to the east of the pyramid but appears to have been completed hastily, with mudbricks. It was impossible to build the causeway towards the east, and difficult to direct it downhill towards Giza. Accordingly, a foolish decision was taken to build the access ramp oriented towards the valley to the north-east. This resulted in an extraordinarily long (around 1700 metres) causeway. The causeway is unexcavated, but it is easy to trace it on satellite images as a huge rib which starts from the north side of the pyramid’s enclosure

A mirage from Heliopolis

Photo 4.4.  Abu Roash. The huge pit of the unfinished Djedefra pyramid.

and proceeds down to a flat area. Here the track disappears at the position where the valley temple should have been located. Having chosen the Abu Roash hill – with all the associated problems for the transport of materials this would entail – the best position for the pyramid would probably have been some 300 metres to the west. The chosen position is, however, located at the intersection of two important lines. The first line is the diagonal of the Great Pyramid. The projected

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course of this diagonal to the north-west (8.5 kilometres in length) indeed passes with impressive precision along the Djedefra building site (it misses the pyramid by some 40 metres; in terms of azimuths, the centres of the pyramids are connected by a line oriented about 45°50 ′ south of east, thus an error of less than 1°). There can be no possible doubt that this arrangement fulfilled a “dynastic” duty: connecting Djedefra’s monument with that of his father. The second line is the sight line connecting Heliopolis with Abu Roash, which bears an azimuth of ~244°20 ′. This direction is not very far from the winter solstice sunset, but most importantly, it is close to the setting of Sirius in the twenty-sixth century BC (Shaltout, Belmonte and Fekri 2007a; Bauval 2007). This is particularly intriguing because the name of the Abu Roash pyramid identifies it as a star. This name is indeed “Djedefra is a sehed star” (the meaning of the word “sehed” is not very clear, unfortunately, but it probably means “bright”). There can be little doubt, then, that symbolism, rather than practical reasons, underpinned topographical choices for this king too. This is further confirmed by the fact that the line of sight to Heliopolis is probably also an “axis” similar to that of Giza. Indeed, the line crosses another pyramid, the so-called Lepsius 1, which sits at the end of the Abu Roash hills. Unfortunately, little is known about Lepsius 1. It is a huge structure in mudbrick, which therefore raises serious doubts about its being an Old Kingdom pyramid. However, it has a rock-cut substructure analogous to that of Old Kingdom pyramids, and fifth dynasty tombs were later excavated in its rock knoll, so it must be more ancient than that, though – equally – it is strange that tombs were carved in a pre-existing pyramid. It has been tentatively dated to the end of the third dynasty (Swelim 1983), but the substructure might lead us to suppose that it was perhaps the companion in an unfinished (or hastily finished in mudbrick) double Djedefra project, ignored and built over in the next dynasty. The second “star” pyramid of the fourth dynasty has also remained in the condition of a building site. It is located at Zawiet el Arian, where, as we have seen, the vestiges of a third dynasty pyramid are also located. Near the west side of this pyramid starts the fence of a military base, and the unfinished monument lies inside the base, just a few hundred metres to the north-west but, alas, unreachable. To the best of my knowledge, no scholar – including myself, to my chagrin – has been admitted inside the base to study these remains in the last 30 years or so. So, I am forced

A mirage from Heliopolis

here to do something I do not like – to speak about a Egyptian monument I have never seen with my own eyes and to rely solely on existing material.2 Fortunately, the site was documented fairly well by its excavator, Alexandre Barsanti, it is visible on satellite images, and it was cleared to shoot a feature film in the 1950s. In the film – Howard Hawks’ Land of the Pharaohs – the plot hinges on the construction of a pyramid, so a building site in operation was needed to shoot a few minutes of reel. The film itself, though about 4450 years younger than the pyramids, sadly has not stood the test of time so well, but these few scenes are worth seeing. Indeed, the undertaking at Zawiet el Arian was absolutely immense, so much so that it is commonly referred to as The Great Pit. The site, first noticed by Karl Richard Lepsius, was rediscovered by chance by Barsanti, who was at that time excavating the Layer Pyramid (Barsanti and Maspero 1906, 1907). Returning to Giza, he took a shortcut through the desert and spotted granite and limestone remains on the surface. When excavation began, the building site of a gigantic pyramid, similar in dimensions to that of Khafra and enclosed in a large stone-walled precinct, was revealed. The ancient builders had dug out an enormous T-shaped trench, with a descending ramp 105 metres long and an east to west pit 21 metres deep. The floor of the pit was “paved”, as it were, with vast blocks of granite, with an oval granite sarcophagus sunk into the floor. The sarcophagus was found closed, with its enormous, perfectly dressed cover in place, but empty. Yet Barsanti was not convinced that his work was over, on account of a curious incident that took place during the excavation. The day after a heavy rainstorm, he and his team were expecting to find the pit full of water, but in fact most of the water had drained away, suggesting the presence of a chamber beneath. Unfortunately, Barsanti died shortly afterwards, and excavations were never resumed. Anyway, who was the owner of this monument? Several marks bearing the king’s name were found by Barsanti on the blocks removed from the ramp, and these blocks should still be in situ. However, since it is impossible for anyone to make a new study, the only available sources are drawings done at that time. From these we gather that the owner of the pyramid was definitely a king whose cartouche name consisted of two hieroglyphs, the second one being -Ka. He therefore will be called here ?-Ka because there is no consensus on the reading of the first hieroglyph, which seems to actually differ in various inscriptions. Many appear to read as Nefer-ka, leading some scholars to attribute the

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monument to a third dynasty king (Swelim 1983). However, I fully endorse the opinion that this is a monument planned by the same school of architects – if not by the very same architect – that planned the Abu Roash monument of Djedefra. The owner should accordingly be a king, called Bicheris by Manetho, who reigned very briefly in the second half of the fourth dynasty (Lauer 1962). This can be readily appreciated from a series of clues. First is the extended use of granite and the technique of the “open trench” pit. Second is the orientation. Indeed, the orientation of the pit can be measured from satellite images with an error difficult to estimate but not greater than half a degree. Within this error, the descending ramp is oriented to true north, almost definitive proof that this cannot be a third dynasty monument. Last but not least, a further intriguing connection exists between the ?-Ka pyramid and Djedefra’s. By a sort of miracle, we actually know the name of this monument, due to the inscriptions found on site by Barsanti. The name appears clearly, repeated several times; it is -Sb, star. If this pyramid was named for a star, it is certainly legitimate to ask which star, and all the more because we already suspected that a pyramid strongly connected with this one, Djedefra’s, was associated with a specific star, Sirius. The site of Zawiet el Arian is in plain view from Heliopolis (as we shall see, the last visibility line from Heliopolis to the south-west corresponds to the site of Abu Gorab slightly to the south), and the azimuth of the sight line from Heliopolis to Zawiet el Arian is ~215°30 ′, which corresponds (quite precisely if we take a reference date of 2500 BC) to the setting of the bright star Fomalhaut. Fomalhaut is the brightest star in the constellation Piscis Austrinus, and one of the first-magnitude stars which were among the Egyptian Decans. To judge whether there is any chance of this being more than a coincidence, we must now explore the choices made by the kings of the next dynasty.

5 Sons of the sun god

5.1  A new horizon for Snefru The fourth dynasty comes to an end with Menkaura’s son, Shepsekaf (2472–2467 BC). We do not know much about the short reign of this king. However, many of the solutions adopted by this enigmatic monarch are quite original and deserve our attention. It is apparent that the king wanted to make clear his distance from his “solar” predecessors, so he declined to have a -Ra name. With the building site of his tomb, he made an explicit recall to, or re-evocation of, the pre-Khufu tradition, that of Snefru and Djoser. The monument is in fact not visible from Heliopolis, being placed to the south of Saqqara on the way to Dahshur. Furthermore, it is not a pyramid. It is actually a unique building which at first sight resembles a mastaba, so it is traditionally called Mastaba el Faraun (Photo 5.1). This message of recalling ancient tradition is quite clear and has been repeatedly noted in the literature (see, for example, Verner 2002a). However, in my view, the way in which Shepsekaf devised his funerary landscape conveys a great deal of additional information. It is true that, at a distance, the tomb resembles some huge mastabas, such as those of the Khufu northern cemetery at Giza. But when the Mastaba el Faraun is approached by walking a few hundred metres through the desert from the Saqqara village, more or less along the same route as the monumental causeway which once ascended to it, then one realises that the analogy with a mastaba is an illusory effect. Although many such tombs are undoubted masterpieces, the Shepsekaf monument was constructed by a royal architect with the accuracy and the refined techniques employed for (and exclusively for) the fourth dynasty royal pyramids. As

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Photo 5.1.  Saqqara south. The Mastaba el Faraun viewed from the east.

a matter of fact, the Mastaba el Faraun was the last tomb constructed in Egypt using such utterly accurate procedures. The building is made of extremely regular courses of huge stones. It is today 99.6 metres long and 74.4 metres broad, but it was probably meant to measure 200 × 150 cubits including the casing, which was in granite for the lower courses. The sides are very well oriented to the cardinal points.1 They are 18 metres high and slope inward at 70°, but the top is raised up at the two ends thanks to two low vertical walls (today barely recognisable). As in all fourth dynasty pyramids, the entrance is on the north side, from which a descending corridor enters the funerary apartments. These apartments have nothing to do with those of the mastaba tombs, which usually comprised several ground-level rooms devoted to the funerary rites, while the funerary chamber was located in a deep shaft. The interior of Shepsekaf’s tomb instead bears some resemblance to the apartments of Menkaura’s pyramid. Little is known about the annexed buildings: a small funerary temple was located to the east, and a causeway went down, probably to an (unexcavated) valley temple. All things considered, the tomb of Shepsekaf poses two significant questions: why was it placed where it was placed, and why was it designed in the way it was? To deal with the first point, we can be certain that the Mastaba el Faraun was conceived of – from the point of view of the art of the landscape – as a monument aimed at occupying the horizon, exactly as the monuments of the king’s predecessors in Giza and Dahshur were. In fact,

Sons of the sun god

Photo 5.2.  Saqqara south. The view towards Dahshur from the area of the Pepi I queens’ pyramids. From left to right, the Bent Pyramid and the Red Pyramid, with the huge tomb of Shepsekaf placed with a perspective effect as a regular baseline in between them; at the extreme right are the ruins of the later Pepi II pyramid.

although it is “only” some 18 metres high, it was deliberately built on an adapted rock terrace on the gentle slopes that descend from Saqqara to Dahshur and in plain, although distant, view from the old necropolis. At the moment of its construction, the whole area was empty; we must thus imagine the monument in the middle of a huge portion of desert land with the horizon to the north filled by the Djoser Step Pyramid and the horizon to the south filled by the Snefru pyramids. But why did the king choose to build his tomb in this pristine area so far from both of the two pre-existing necropolises? I believe that the choice of the building site and the design of the monument were planned together in order to harmonise the project with the pre-existing Snefru-built landscape, with the aim of preserving order – Maat – in the already-old sacred ground. Indeed, if a line is traced from the point located at half the distance between the two Snefru pyramids to the centre of Shepsekaf’s tomb (Photo 5.2), the same line prolonged to the north crosses the Saqqara central field in the “entrance” area located near the Teti pyramid. As a result, anyone reaching the summit of the ridge would have seen (and still can see) the king’s tomb – due to its “bench” aspect – forming a sort of regular baseline for the double-mountain symbol created at the

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horizon by the two giant pyramids of Snefru (Magli 2009b). On the other hand, it can be easily seen that the position of the monument is not dictated by the morphology of the territory; it has its foundation on an artificial terrace and is relatively far from the ridge of the plateau. We can thus conclude that, in placing his tomb exactly where he did, the king “completed” the landscape of power built by Snefru, establishing in this way his own power and conveying a message of order and a return to the old, pre-solar traditions. But why did the king choose to convey such a message? This leads us to the second problem, that of understanding the shape, which is not precisely a “bench” but has two vaulted ends. It is usually said in the literature that the monument resembles a “Buto shrine”; however, no explanation has ever been given for such a strange choice of form (Lehner 1999). The city of Buto was a sacred centre, located in the delta. The cobra goddess Wadjet was worshipped there; together with the vulture god Nekhbet of Upper Egypt, they formed the “two ladies” , the patrons of the kingship. Scant remains of the ancient settlement at Buto have so far been found, but sample excavations have shown that the site was already inhabited in predynastic times, and tradition has it that this was a fairly important place of cult, being the northern counterpart of Hierakonpolis. No actual shrines at Buto have been found, but the form of the archaic shrines there (perhaps made of perishable materials) is known from the corresponding hieroglyph, representing an arched-roof building with side poles . So, it really is possible to assume that this was the origin of the strange aspect of the Shepsekaf monument, but the problem of understanding this choice persists: the interplay between symbolic hieroglyphs and the project of funerary architecture was certainly not a novelty, but why was a fourth dynasty royal tomb arranged in this fashion? The solution I am going to propose here is that what swayed the king’s choices was a spectacular natural event: a total solar eclipse (Box 4). Since the proposal is highly speculative, I shall tread carefully. First, since an eclipse is astronomically dated, placing it during a Pharaoh’s reign depends strictly on the chronology used. The chronology of the Old Kingdom is the subject of much debate; according to the chronology used in this book, Shepsekaf acceded to the throne in 2472 BC, but the reader is warned that this date disagrees with

Sons of the sun god

other more recent chronologies; for instance, it is much later (2442 BC) in Hornung, Krauss and Warburton’s (2006) chronology and much earlier (2503 BC) in Shaw’s (2000). Second, although eclipses on Egyptian territory as a whole were not excessively rare, it seems that no reference to these phenomena has ever been made in Egyptian texts; although difficult to believe, it also seems that no Egyptian word for “eclipse” existed (the unique author mentioning the interest the ancient Egyptians had in eclipses appears to be the late Hephaistio of Thebes, writing in the fifth century AD). Moreover, I find existing claims regarding the presence of eclipses in Egyptian mythology and art (e.g., Brewer 1991; Sellers 1992) to be rather inconclusive. As a consequence, among the numerous eclipses proposed from time to time as allegedly influencing historical events in Egypt (and therefore architecture and landscape), only two will be discussed in this book. The criterion I have adopted for this choice is that factual coincidences have to exist that may (at least tentatively) be put in relation to eclipses. The first case is the one I am about to discuss; the second will be covered in Chapter 9. In the case of Shepsekaf, on the morning of 1 April 2471 BC a total solar eclipse occurred in Egypt with totality at Buto. The eclipse was visible also from Memphis, although not in totality, and it is not inconceivable that the new Pharaoh was informed of the totality at Buto and decided to return to a pre-solar foundation of kingship and to honour that sacred place with his funerary monument. 5.2  The stronghold of Ra In the absence of written documents, the idea that Shepsekaf might have been influenced by the eclipse of 2471 BC remains purely speculative, although, as far as I know, this explanation is the only one offering a possible clue for both the place chosen for the king’s tomb and its form. The successor of Shepsekaf and founder of the fifth dynasty is King Userkaf, who initiated the process of return to the solar tradition, which would become fully fledged with his successor. Userkaf’s relationship with the royal family is unclear, but certainly a fundamental role was played in his accession by a queen called Khentkaues I, perhaps his wife. The queen is the owner of the huge funerary monument located

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Photo 5.3.  Giza. The funerary monument of Queen Khentkaues.

close to Menkaura’s causeway, in a prominent position in relation to the main entrance to the Giza area, which was the monumental gate of the so-called Wall of the Crows, a megalithic wall to the south-east of Menkaura’s valley temple (Figure 3.3). The building is based on a knoll of bedrock – similar to the one which the Sphinx must have originally sprung from  – which was somehow regularised and used as the foundation of a mastaba-like structure of stonework (Photo 5.3). The rock knoll is roughly located along the line of the winter solstice sunset as seen from the Sphinx area, a thing which perhaps helped in making this unusual architectural choice. The lower section of the monument was encased in fine Turah limestone, and the top is slightly vaulted, like Shepsekaf’s (the underground apartments also resemble those of the two previous royal tombs). Whatever his familial relationships, with Userkaf we witness a change which left its traces in literature, since the dynastic transition is documented, through the medium of tales, in the text of the so-called Westcar Papyrus. The Westcar Papyrus is a text containing five stories told at the royal court of Khufu by his sons. The document has been dated to the Second

Sons of the sun god

Intermediate period (around 1700 BC), but the material must have been written earlier, probably in the Middle Kingdom (as we shall see, a similar document exists dating to the Middle Kingdom and referring to the advent of the twelfth dynasty). The papyrus (today at the Egyptian Museum of Berlin) recounts five magic events. The text of the first has been lost; we only know that it is probably told by Djedefra and takes place in Djoser’s time. The second story, told by Khafra, is set during the third dynasty king Nebka’s reign and describes a sort of black magic procedure which conjures up a crocodile from a wax model. The third story, told by another of Khufu’s sons, called Baufra, takes place in Snefru’s time. The fourth and the fifth stories are the most interesting from the historical point of view. In the fourth, told by a prince called Hordjedef, a magician called Dedi is called to Khufu’s court to display his ability in “reattaching heads” to beheaded animals. Then Khufu asks him a rather strange question: the number of secret chambers in the temple of Thoth. The reason is that the king has spent so much time searching for it himself because he wants to have the same number in his “horizon”, which is, as of course we know, his pyramid. At any rate, Dedi does not know this number. He answers that it can be found in a box of flint, in a room of archives in Heliopolis. The magician apparently cannot open it; only the eldest of the three children who reside in the womb of Rededjet can do this. Rededjet is the wife of a priest of Ra, and is pregnant with three children by Ra himself. At this point, Khufu becomes nervous, since these children are apparently destined to become kings. However, the magician reassures the Pharaoh, saying that this will come to pass only after the reign of a grandson of Khufu. In the final story, we are told about Ra assisting Rededjet in the birth of the three future kings. The text is clearly very intriguing, but also very difficult to interpret. For instance, what about the desire of Khufu to know the “number of the chambers of the sanctuary of Thoth” for his pyramid? Thoth, usually depicted as an ibis or with an ibis’ head, was a very ancient lunar god. Already documented in predynastic times, he was later associated with writing and knowledge (curiously, Thoth was said “to heal the injured eye of Horus”, a circumstance which, since the god was associated with the moon, has sometimes been interpreted as a reference to eclipses). Perhaps the safest way to interpret this part of the text, then, is to think that a sort of reminiscence about the complex system of chambers inside the Great Pyramid was “in the air” at the time of writing, and

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this prompted what we would call today an “urban legend” about the pyramid of the first “solarised” Pharaoh. Be that as it may, there is no doubt that the Westcar Papyrus as a whole aims to present the kings of the fifth dynasty as legitimate heirs to the solar king tradition, tracing the dynasty “back” to his ideal source, to Heliopolis, via direct descent from Ra. What is really interesting for us here is that a similar mechanism is actually visible on the ground, in the landscape arrangements opted for by these kings. Indeed, first Userkaf devised a clever, complex way of reconciling all the previous traditions within his funerary project, reintroducing an explicit recall to the sun and Heliopolis. Then his successors gave a decisive impulse to their “solarisation” in making their topographical choices. Let us start with Userkaf. This king was also called Iry-maat, The one who brings Maat, and his reign appears to have been a period of settlement and consolidation with regard to religious and political ideas, in what seems to be, in many respects, a sort of new order based on traditional ideas – as would become typical in the later history of Egypt. The Userkaf funerary project reflects these changes. It hinged on the construction of two monuments: the king’s pyramid in Saqqara and another building, a so-called sun temple, in a hitherto virgin area, that of Abu Gorab. The pyramid of Userkaf was conceived of as a relatively unambitious project. The real innovation introduced by the king lies in its position. In fact, he chose to return to the old and revered Saqqara central field and decided to build to the north-east of the complex of Djoser, as close to it as possible. The pyramid was of poor quality, so that when the limestone casing was stripped away, the building lapsed into the pitiful state we see it in today. The interior apartments, which were to become virtually the template for successive pyramids of the Old Kingdom, consist of a descending gallery, a horizontal gallery, a room – probably a storeroom – to the left (east) and an antechamber placed below the apex. From here, a short passage leads west to the burial chamber. As in Khafra, the funerary room was excavated as an open pit prior to construction and then covered by huge limestone blocks to form a pent vault. The design of the annexes was severely constrained by the firm determination of the king to stay in the vicinity of the Djoser complex. Indeed the latter, as we have seen, is surrounded by a huge dry moat. Construction of the pyramid and the funerary temple would have been fairly easy in the area immediately to the exterior of the moat, but this was clearly ”too far” for

Sons of the sun god

the king. Consequently, once the pyramid was laid out within the moat, there was no space left to the east to build the funerary temple adjacent to the pyramid (filling the moat with hard stones was obviously a possibility, but this filling would have been quite an arduous task as well as being disrespectful), so Userkaf’s is the only funerary temple in the history of royal pyramids to be built to the south of the tomb.2 The position of the pyramid of the king was thus in all probability chosen in accordance with symbolic considerations. It is unfortunate that the first tale of the Westcar Papyrus, which took place at the Djoser court, did not survive; perhaps it would have given us a hint as to why being so close to Djoser was considered so crucial. At any rate, a clue to the meaning of this “closeness” is that an unobstructed line of sight connects the Userkaf pyramid with Khufu’s, crossing over the Userkaf sun temple (Goedicke 2001). If a similar connecting line is traced between the summit of Djoser’s pyramid and the apex of Khafra’s, it turns out that the two lines are roughly parallel, the deviation being within 2°. The length of these lines is about 14.5 kilometres, and therefore they allow for direct inter-visibility, an experience that can still be easily enjoyed today. The idea of replicating, at Saqqara, the sacred space of the two main Giza pyramids, then, is the likely reason for Userkaf’s placing his pyramid exactly where it is. (This ambitious project would be completed at the end of the fifth dynasty with the construction of the Unas project, as we shall see.) Besides the pyramid, Userkaf ordered the construction of the first of what in many respects seems to be a new kind of religious building, usually defined as a sun temple in the Egyptological literature (Ricke 1965; Stadelmann 2000). Userkaf called this building Stronghold of Ra and located it, for a reason we shall see later, at Abu Gorab, a plateau to the north of Saqqara. Documents dated to the end of the dynasty mention other temples, making up a total of five, one for each of the subsequent five Pharaohs. These are Sahura’s Field of Ra, Neferirkara’s Place of Ra Pleasure, Neferefra’s Ra Offering Table, Niuserra’s Delight of Ra and finally Menkauhor’s Horizon of Ra. But only one of these, that of Niuserra, is archaeologically known. It is located very near to Userkaf’s, and it may well be that only these two were actually built, as we shall see. The layout of Userkaf’s sun temple consists of a building close to the cultivation, a causeway, and an upper building. As a free-standing

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ensemble (without a pyramid), it has no known antecedents, but we might reasonably hypothesise that its structure was similar to that of the Heliopolitan temple of the same period. Some authors also consider the Sphinx temple as an antecedent because it was probably dedicated to the sun as well. However, it is clear that, if the sun temples have to be similar to something already existing at Giza, then they are instead similar to the whole temple complex of the pyramids. This raises the strong suspicion that these were also inspired by the pre-existing structure of the temple of Heliopolis, a notion which is further strengthened by the close connection between the sun temples and the funerary cult of the king. The upper building underwent several stages of construction, as it was re-elaborated by at least two of Userkaf’s successors, Neferirkara and Niuserra. Initially, there was a rectangular enclosure with a central mound. To this structure Neferirkara added an obelisk, which stood on a huge pedestal clad in quartzite and granite, with a winding corridor rising to the roof. Later Niuserra added an inner enclosure wall and chambers of limestone. The causeway was divided into three lanes by mudbrick walls. We know from almost contemporary texts (the so-called Abusir Papyri, written during the reign of Djedkara Isesi, who apparently saw to the efficient management of the funerary cults of his ancestors) that sacrifices of oxen were made on a daily basis at the upper temple, and the central lane was perhaps reserved for raising animals. At its lower end, the causeway ended at the enclosure of the valley building, of which few remains are visible today. However, the plan has been reconstructed as an open court with a colonnade of sixteen granite pillars. The upper building is oriented to the cardinal points, but the causeway and the rectangular enclosure downhill are oriented at 56°, an orientation which has remained unexplained to date.3 What is the meaning of this sophisticated architectural complex? There is no doubt that an important clue in interpreting this curious monument comes from the topography of the Memphis area as viewed from Heliopolis. In fact, looking from Heliopolis towards the west bank and shifting one’s gaze progressively to the south, the sites of Abu Roash, Giza and Zawiet el Arian are visible. The visibility is eventually blocked by the rocky outcrop located at the north-west extreme of the plateau called the Moqattam formation (this outcrop is today occupied by the Cairo citadel). The last visibility line is tangential to the citadel and passes between Abu Gorab and the area immediately to the south of it, called

Sons of the sun god

5.1.  Inter-visibility between the pyramids of the Memphite area and Heliopolis. The last visibility line is “tangent” to the Cairo citadel and corresponds to the Abu Gorab area. The Abusir area is the first to be invisible going south. The azimuth of each of the solid lines as measured from Heliopolis corresponds to a pyramid and to the setting of a decanal star at the (likely) time of construction of the pyramids as follows (from north to south): (1) Djedefra-Sirius; (2) Khufu-Rigil Kent; (3) ?-ka - Fomalhaut; (4) Sahura - Canopus.

Abu Sir (Figure 5.1). Many authors have noticed this and have more or less explicitly argued that this was the reason for Userkaf’s choice of Abu Gorab (Kaiser 1956; Jeffreys 1998; Quirke 2001). In my view, this is not just the reason for the choice of place but also the reason for the construction of the monument itself, as I shall now explain. As we have already seen on several occasions, according to the Egyptian conception of the sacred landscape, each element had to be an explicit harking back to a series of conceptual ideas. These ideas were then translated at a cognitive level by means of explicit choices made in topography and orientation. In the case of Userkaf, the temple was constructed very near the southernmost available point on the west bank of

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the Nile which is still inter-visible with Heliopolis. In this way, the temple stood as a tangible witness to the connection of the king with Heliopolis and the “solarised king” tradition of the fourth dynasty. The reason the king needed such a connection is the following. The king chose the building site for his pyramid close to that of Djoser in such a way as to make an explicit reference to the pre-Khufu traditions and placed the monument in a manner which explicitly replicated the Khufu-Khafra arrangement visible at a distance to the north-west, in this way fulfilling a dynastic duty towards these kings. Yet, Saqqara is invisible from Heliopolis, being farther to the south of Abusir. Therefore the additional problem of exhibiting the connection with Heliopolis remained, and there was no alternative but to construct another building, the sun temple, which is accordingly very closely connected with the funerary complex of the king and lies on the Userkaf to Khufu visual line. To some extent, the temple is an indivisible part of the funerary complex, and its position – being in the last place in view from Heliopolis but also, of course, in the first place from which Heliopolis is visible coming from Saqqara – acts as a landmark of the position of the pyramid farther south. 5.3  Close to the soul of Ra Sahura, the Pharaoh whose name means Close to the soul of Ra, was apparently Userkaf’s son. Information about his reign comes chiefly from the reliefs recovered in his pyramid complex which show, inter alia, that the Pharaoh established a royal fleet and improved trading conditions in the Eastern Mediterranean. The pyramid of Sahura (Photo 5.4) was the first built on the Abusir plateau, between Abu Gorab and Saqqara; it is only some 450 metres to the south-west of the Userkaf sun temple, but this apparently negligible distance has profound, and far from chance, implications. The monument originally stood about 47 metres high, but today it stands in ruins because the quality of building was very poor, based as it was on an inner core of rough stones and rubble. In spite of this, the Sahura pyramid is an imposing monument, placed in a prominent position and still accessed today via the remains of the original causeway. The causeway ended at a valley temple situated directly on the shores of a lake, today dried up. Ascending to the remains of the funerary temple, the huge mass of the pyramid of Sahura’s successor Neferirkara sits in the

Sons of the sun god

Photo 5.4.  Abusir. The pyramid of Sahura seen from the causeway. Two elaborate columns stand at the entrance of the funerary temple in front of the pyramid.

background to the south-west, and (at least to people already acquainted with Giza) the whole complex gives a strange impression of déjà vu. It conveys the idea that some rule was being applied here which was not new but only re-elaborated or reworked under new conditions. Indeed, two pyramids (in reality three pyramids – the third is unfinished) align on a row which starts with Sahura and proceeds to the desert in the south-west. Breaking into all this, like an intruder into an ordered landscape, a fourth pyramid has been positioned in a place where it has no right to be. Why was the Abusir plateau chosen? Why were the pyramids there placed in the way they are? Certainly the placement of pyramidal complexes did have to take into consideration practical factors such as the presence of nearby stone outcrops – to be turned into quarries – and accessibility of materials (Barta 2005). Perhaps also the presence of the – still operational – building site of the pyramid of the preceding Pharaoh may have influenced the choice in one way (existence of service structures) or the other (congestion of work, prompting a change of place). However, in the case of Sahura, no particular one of these factors seems to have been decisive. If the king had wanted to stay close to his father, Userkaf, then there was plenty of space in Saqqara (in the area of the later Teti pyramid). From Saqqara to Giza, there were several suitable areas: Abusir, certainly, but why not Abu Gorab slightly to the north, with the service structures

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of Userkaf’s temple; or Zawiet el Arian, farther north; or finally Giza, where Menkaura had so magnanimously left enough space for a couple of other pyramids to the east, only partially utilised by Khentkaues? The answer is probably that Abusir has a special symbolic quality; it is a special place (Magli 2010a). To understand this, it should be observed that, with Sahura, we return definitively to the solar king tradition. Thus the most natural place for Sahura would really have been at Giza, but – since Sahura was a solar king – on a site even the dimmest architect would not have touched with a bargepole: lost in the desert, as a fourth monument aligned along the Giza axis was doomed to be. Thus, the architects had to find a new solution to enable their king to adhere to the convention of aligning his tomb towards Heliopolis in an explicit, symbolic way. They managed to come up with a clever idea: placing the pyramid on a site from which Heliopolis is not visible, but the very first one meets going south. In this way, anyone on the opposite bank of the Nile would have been aware (looking at the western horizon) that the Userkaf temple now indicated the sacred area, where his successor decided to be buried. This is confirmed by the otherwise incomprehensible fact that the next two pyramids constructed at Abusir aligned on an axis directed towards Heliopolis (Lehner 1985c; Verner 2002a). Indeed, incredible though it may seem, Sahura’s successor Neferirkara inaugurated an Abusir axis which is similar in conception to that of Giza but apparently failed in practice. In fact, his pyramid – which was designed to be greater than Sahura’s, with a side base of 105 metres (200 cubits) and a height of some 72 metres – was placed to the south-west of that of Sahura, in such a way that the north-west corner of the two pyramids aligns on the ideal sight line to Heliopolis (Figure 5.2).4 Of course, as we already know, this line of sight was, and is, blocked by the outcrop of the Cairo citadel, but its aim only apparently failed. In fact, at this point anyone on the opposite bank of the Nile would have been aware of the existence of a brand new (in relation to Giza) sacred landscape, where the royal pyramids were aligned in a row pointing to Heliopolis. This is corroborated by the presence of a further monument located on the Abusir axis, and thus quite distant in the desert. It belongs to Neferefra, the son of Neferirkara (Photo 5.5). His reign was very short, and the construction of his pyramid – designed to be slightly smaller than that of Sahura – remained at an early stage. It appears that the monument was hastily finished off as a sort of low, large mastaba; the

Sons of the sun god

5.2.  Schematic map of the Abu Gorab–Abusir area. Numbering of the monuments in chronological order: (1) Userkaf sun temple; (2–4) pyramids of Sahura, Neferirkara and Neferefra, respectively; (5) possible site of the pyramid of Shepseskara; (6) pyramid of Niuserra (a), mastaba of Ptahshepes (b), Niuserra sun temple (c). The Abu Sir main axis (I), the Niuserra “dynastic” axis (II), and the Niuserra sun temple axis (III) are highlighted.

substructure was, however, planned in the usual manner as a T-shaped pit, which is today open to the air. It is a heady experience to stroll around the sides of this monument and to rest for a while in the desert, near the north-west corner, looking across to the corresponding corner of Neferirkara, and trying to imagine a straight line running along all the way to the Cairo citadel, sometimes barely visible on the distant horizon. In that very same place, around 4400 years ago, stood the king’s surveyors, who were tasked with establishing the corners of the monument. They knew that the king’s burial place had to be built there, almost lost in the desert, in the middle of nowhere, and dwarfed behind a huger pyramid, in spite of the existence of plenty of available space to the east. They certainly knew the name of the project built some 100 years before at Giza, a project which satisfied a set of identical, apparently crazy constraints. The name of that project was Menkaura is divine.

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Photo 5.5.  Abusir. A photograph taken from the west side of the pyramid of Neferefra. The open pit of the unfinished pyramid is visible in the foreground. The Abusir axis passes to the far left of this picture.

For this reason, I think, their own project was called The power of Neferefra is divine. 5.4  The Niuserra project The fact that the monument of Neferefra is aligned on the Abusir diagonal strongly suggests that this king was the direct successor of Neferirkara, a theory, however, which has not been definitively substantiated (Verner 2001). If this is true, then his successor  – an ephemeral king called Shepseskara  – had to tackle the same problem facing Sahura at Giza; namely, the impossibility of “attaching” his pyramid to the pre-existing axis without wandering off too far into the desert. For this reason, the architect of the Pharaoh probably planned the pyramid in the small space left between Userkaf’s sun temple and Sahura’s pyramid, leaving it in this way “just invisible” from Heliopolis. Indeed, in this area scant remains of what might have been the building site of a pyramid left at the initial stages have been found.

Sons of the sun god

Photo 5.6.  Abusir. The pyramids of Neferirkara (right) and Niuserra (left) from the south-east.

The problem of finding a symbolically appropriate place for a pyramid was inherited by Niuserra, probably the younger son of Neferirkara. The situation was unchanged, and the place awaiting him was on the Abusir axis after the Neferefra monument. Building so far in the desert would have been simply impossible, and so the planners of his monument had to find yet another way of exhibiting the dynastic and the solar lineage of the king. The solution they managed to come up with is ingenious, but  – as in the case of Userkaf  – necessitated the construction of two monuments. First of all, they placed the pyramid – which measured 78.9 metres (150 cubits) square and was 51.7 metres high – to the east side of an existing one, that of the king’s father, Neferirkara (Photo 5.6), a quite unique example of a glaringly “intrusive” design in a pyramid field. In this way, they inaugurated a new dynastic axis. This second Abusir axis is a line, first discovered by Lehner (1985c), oriented at ~42°, which connects the south-east corner of Niuserra’s pyramid with the same corner of the pyramids of Neferefra and Neferirkara. On this axis, the corner of the mastaba of Ptahshepses, a very important person who became a son-in-law of Niuserra, was also placed (Figure 5.2).

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Photo 5.7.  Abu Gorab. The sun temple of Niuserra.

Together with the pyramid complex, the architects of the king also constructed a sun temple (Photo 5.7), located north of Userkaf’s and therefore in full view of Heliopolis. The temple was called Delight of Ra and is the only one, after Userkaf’s, to have been rediscovered. The complex once again consisted of a valley temple (almost lost), an upper temple, and a causeway linking the two. The main focus of the upper temple was a nonmonolithic (masonry built) obelisk, placed on a huge pedestal 20 metres tall encased in granite. The obelisk no longer exists; it was originally estimated to have been about 36 metres tall, but this figure has been lowered in recent reassessments (Nuzzolo 2007a, b). In any case, the upper temple was an imposing monument. A winding ramp ascended to the obelisk’s base, accessed from a chamber within the pedestal which contained reliefs relating to the three Egyptian seasons. The upper courtyard still contains a masterpiece of Egyptian sculpture, a huge four-sided alabaster altar made up of four -hetep signs, each oriented towards a cardinal direction. A large brick model of a boat was constructed at the side of the temple. Why was this complex architectural project carried out? No definitive answer exists in the literature; suggestions include that the sun temple is

Sons of the sun god

a “mortuary complex for the sun” or “for the king in his identity as the sun before birth and after death” (see the discussion in Lehner 1999). In my opinion, the main reason for constructing the Niuserra temple is the same as that for Userkaf and stems from ideas regarding the structure of the royal funerary landscapes of that period. In fact, by creating the new dynastic axis at Abusir, the architects solved the problem of establishing the connection of the king’s pyramid with his ancestors, but the other problem remained: the connection of the king’s pyramid with the sun god and Heliopolis failed to be expressed symbolically by his funerary complex. To meet this requisite, they built the sun temple. Proof of this is that in this way – amazing as it may seem – the Niuserra architects even managed to institute yet another Abusir axis (Magli 2010a). This axis is a line oriented ~45° north of west which follows the diagonal of the Niuserra pyramid. It then proceeds to the south-west corner of Userkaf’s temple and intersects the basis of the obelisk in the Niuserra sun temple. This topographical alignment is similar to that connecting the pyramids of Khufu and Djedefra; there can be no doubt that it was deliberately designed, and it can still be perceived very clearly today if one stands on the obelisk terrace of the sun temple and looks towards Abusir (photo 5.8). Its function is, I believe, unmistakeable: to establish a “dynastic” link between the funerary complex of the king and his sun temple and, by extension, to Heliopolis.5 As mentioned before, documents of the period attest to the existence of a sun temple for the three Pharaohs before Niuserra as well as for his successor Menkauhor. So one might well wonder whether similar visual axes existed for the unknown temples and, if so, might be helpful in finding them. However, one could argue that construction of sun temples was not needed for Sahura, Neferirkara and Neferefra, whose pyramids are symbolically aligned to Heliopolis. And, in fact, there is yet another possibility. Some scholars have proposed that the texts which refer to these not-to-be-found temples simply speak about renewals made to the existing Userkaf’s temple, and thus that the only other sun temple actually constructed after Userkaf’s was that of Niuserra. This would fit perfectly well with the existence of the Niuserra axis: Sahura, Neferirkara and Neferefra each constructed a pyramid on the dynastic diagonal at Abusir, and therefore their funerary complex was symbolically connected with Heliopolis; it was sufficient for them just to renew the existing temple. Niuserra, on the other hand, was obliged to depart from the axis for his

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Photo 5.8.  Abu Gorab. The view towards the Abu Sir pyramids of Sahura, Niuserra and Neferirkara from the upper terrace of Niuserra’s sun temple. In the foreground is the huge alabaster altar of the temple.

funerary complex  – so that his pyramid was not symbolically linked to Heliopolis – and therefore he was also forced to construct a new temple. To recapitulate, I think that one (if not the main) symbolic meaning of these enigmatic buildings can be explained as follows. They were built as witnesses to the royal link with the sun god whenever this link was not explicitly proclaimed by the location of the funerary complex of the king. If this is correct, then only Menkauhor (the whereabouts of whose pyramid is unknown, but it might be in Saqqara, not far from Userkaf’s) could be credited with another still-to-be-found sun temple, which, by the way, had a “suspicious” (at least for us) name: the Akhet of Ra. Actually at Abu Gorab, a couple of sand “outcrops” actually exist between the two temples which might hide the remains of this building (Nuzzolo 2007b; Parcak 2009). Perhaps the name alludes to a hierophany once occurring there. 5.5  Stars from Heliopolis Niuserra was the last king to build his funerary complex in Abu Sir. The time of the “sons of the sun god” ends with him, as his successors were to

Sons of the sun god

move back to Saqqara for their pyramids. In the course of more than 200 years, the choice of the location of some of the most wonderful monuments ever constructed had been governed by a general topographical rule which would never be applied henceforth: the observance of a topographical relationship with Heliopolis, the place of birth of the sun god. Apart from this topographical relationship, we have come across many hints that astronomy may also have played a role in selecting the pyramid’s site. This is, however, quite a delicate issue, and a great deal of bizarre, even ludicrous, things have been written in nonscholarly publications on the subject. Thus, the reader should be advised that here I do not mean that someone dreamed up a “master plan” a priori but only that one inspiring astronomy-related idea – which again, only Khufu can first have conceived of – may have been taken into consideration every time a different location for a pyramid was chosen. This possibility is worth looking into for several reasons. First of all, the funerary cult comprised not just the solar component but also the stellar one. Second, two (among four) of the choices made for new locations (Abu Roash and Zawiet el Arian) correspond to two “star-called” pyramids – “Djedefra is a sehed star” and “?-ka is a star” – and also to the setting of two actual bright stars. Finally, we do know astronomy was practised at Heliopolis, and it is therefore natural to speculate whether the choice of the sites may have also had a “nocturnal” – and thus truly astronomical – connection with the sacred centre. So let us take the point of view of an observer looking at the setting of bright stars from Heliopolis. Of course, azimuths of stars depend on precession, and thus to simulate the sky we need the dates of accession of the corresponding Pharaohs. These, as usual, will be taken from the Baines and Malek chronology (divergences of a few tens of years would not invalidate the results qualitatively).6 From north to south, the first site is Abu Roash. We already know that the azimuth of Abu Roash from Heliopolis, ~244°20′, corresponded to the setting of Sirius. We move to the south and encounter Giza, the azimuth being of course the same as the Giza axis and therefore inter-cardinal at ~225°. Also in this case we already know very well that this azimuth corresponds to a spectacular astronomical phenomenon, the setting of the brightest part of the Milky Way. In particular, at the time of construction of the Great Pyramid around 2550 BC, an observer looking from Heliopolis would have seen the stars of the Southern Cross, followed by the very bright stars of Centaurus, “flow” together

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with the great celestial river and disappear from view behind the apex of the Great Pyramid, with the bright star Rigil Kent in optimal alignment. Going farther south, we encounter the unfinished pyramid at Zawiet el Arian at azimuth ~215°30′ and again we have the setting of a bright star, Fomalhaut, along this direction (within 1° at a fiducial date of 2500 BC). What remains to be investigated is the Abusir axis, and here a surprise is in store for us (Figure 5.1). We already know that the necropolis was “only just” invisible from Heliopolis, and thus we are actually looking at the azimuth of the Cairo citadel which “only just” blocks the view and simultaneously signals the presence of the necropolis on the same axis. This azimuth is ~201° and is the last azimuth of interest here. If the first one corresponds to the brightest star of the Egyptian sky, Sirius, the latter corresponds to the second brightest star of the Egyptian sky, Canopus (if the founder of the necropolis Sahura acceded in 2458 BC, the agreement is within 1°). Of course, all such occurrences might be purely accidental: given four directions in the arc of azimuths under consideration (between 200° and 244°), it is relatively easy to find a visible star setting along each direction within an accuracy of 1°. It is much less easy, however, to discover that, among the four directions considered, three correspond to three out of four of the brightest stars of the Egyptian sky: Sirius, Canopus and Rigil Kent (the missing one is Arcturus, which is out of the azimuth’s range to the north) (Figure 5.1). Furthermore, all these stars were Decans. The Decans were 36 stars, or a group of stars, whose heliacal rising happened in successive “weeks” of 10 days (see Section 2.2 of Box 2 for more details). The ritual use of the Decans to count the hours of the night is documented in Egypt from the ninth dynasty (2154 BC) but probably dates from earlier. The observation of the heliacal setting of many of these stars is clearly alluded to in the Pyramid Texts and for the astronomers was of course as normal as the observation of the heliacal rising, since heliacal setting marks the beginning of the invisibility period. Indeed there are a few temples in Egypt oriented to the setting, rather than the rising, of Sirius. We thus have four Decans – Sirius, Rigil Kent, Fomalhaut and Canopus – which sat respectively in (approximate) alignment with the sight lines from Heliopolis to Abu Roash, Giza, Zawiet el Arian and Abu Gorab-Abusir. It also happens that these stars had heliacal settings in successive periods going from north to south.

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Summing up, then, the sacred space of the solar kings of the fourth and fifth dynasties appears to be criss-crossed by ideal  – but not concealed  – lines. The temple in Heliopolis no longer exists, and in the course of the millennia, precession has changed the declinations of the stars which were once seen to set behind the pyramids to such an extent that one of the brightest, Rigil Kent, has vanished from Egyptian skies. In spite of all this, time still fears the giant monuments of the ancient kings, and these monuments still have much to tell us about the science, ideas and religion of their builders. Box 4.  Solar eclipses An eclipse of the sun (or solar eclipse) is the passage of the moon between the earth and the sun. The ideal plane that contains the earth and the orbit of the moon is inclined by about 5° compared to the plane of the ecliptic; the two intersection points of the orbit of the moon with the ecliptic are called nodes. The eclipses can only occur at new moon in the vicinity of one of the nodes. They are generally witnessed as a portion of the sun’s disk being covered by the moon, called partial eclipses. However, the apparent dimensions of the moon and of the sun from the earth are approximately equal, and therefore there usually exists a long, relatively narrow (not more than 250 kilometres wide) strip of the earth’s surface (called the path of totality) where the moon projects its full shadow and the sun is totally eclipsed (sometimes the moon’s apparent size  – due to its varying distance from the earth – is too small to cover the sun completely and a so-called annular eclipse takes place). Witnessing a total solar eclipse is completely different from viewing an annular or partial (even 99%) eclipse. Indeed, if the sun is not totally eclipsed, its brightness (still potentially dangerous for the eyes) remains intense; it is only during the total phase (which can last up to seven amazing unending minutes) that the sun’s disk is fully replaced by a black disk. The contour of the black disk is then visible as a compact ring halo, the solar corona, which is otherwise invisible. Immediately before and immediately after totality, the so-called diamond ring effect can be seen, created by the last and first (respectively) beads of sunlight able to shine near the lunar surface. During (continued)

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a total solar eclipse, the temperature drops, birds return to their nests and dogs bark. The luminosity of the corona is more or less equal to that of a full moon, and this means that the planets and the brightest stars, if any are above the horizon at that time, are visible. Looking at ground level, on the other hand, one might perceive that there are areas at the horizon where the darkness ceases to be total. Eclipses are not rare, but total solar eclipses at given fixed points on the earth are, because of the narrowness of the path of totality. On average, they occur once every 375 years. Accurate reconstructions of past eclipses are available on the Eclipse Predictions Webpages by Fred Espenak of NASA/GSFC. Identifying specific eclipses in ­historical documents is an exciting task, but one fraught with complications. An example is the alleged total eclipse described in the twentieth book of Homer’s Odyssey, which might refer to an eclipse which really occurred over the Ionian Islands on 16 April 1178 BC (Baikouzis and Magnasco 2008).

6 The lost pyramid

6.1  The Unas project Niuserra was the last king to build his funerary complex in Abusir. His successor was the briefly reigning King Menkauhor, who probably moved to Saqqara. Recent excavations of the remains of a pyramid (Lepsius 29) to the north-east of Userkaf seem in fact to point to the identification of this monument as his unfinished pyramid (but see later in this chapter). His successor, Djedkara-Isesi, inaugurated a new pyramid field approximately midway between the Saqqara central field and the Shepsekaf mastaba. His architects chose a high spur very close to the escarpment, which today overlooks the modern village. This choice was certainly very auspicious from the logistical point of view, but the pristine site also stresses the ideological decisions taken by this king, who  – though attending diligently to the cult of his ancestors – broke with the tradition of constructing (or renovating) sun temples. Time was ripe for a new revolution in ideas which, as usual in Egypt, was to transpire with a mixture of “archaism and innovation”. The man responsible for this revolution was Unas, the last king of the fifth dynasty. Unas decided to return to the Saqqara central field for his pyramid (Photo 6.1), which, as we already know, was the first to have its interior apartments inscribed with the Pyramid Texts. Saqqara central  – apart from the possible presence of Menkauhor  – had remained untouched since the Userkaf project, and large spaces for building remained available to the east and the north-east of the Step Pyramid dry moat, where indeed Unas’ son Teti would later build his own complex. On the contrary, the area to the south and the west of Djoser was literally overcrowded, since it had already been used as a cemetery for some

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Photo 6.1.  Saqqara. The pyramid of Unas seen from one of the boat pits located along the causeway.

700 years. Clearly, this did not bother the king at all. The pyramid temple, for instance, was built directly over the substructure of the second dynasty royal tomb of Hotepsekhemwy, whose huge entrance corridor is today visible near the east side of the pyramid. The pyramid was placed very near the south-west corner of the precinct of Djoser and thus very far into the desert. Consequently, the builders also had to construct a long causeway connecting the complex with the valley temple. To make room for the causeway, they had to clear the zone near Djoser’s south wall, which was already occupied with mastabas, to say nothing of another first dynasty royal tomb. Some tombs were filled with earth, and some mastabas were even completely dismantled (one was reconstructed in the 1970s from blocks found beneath the causeway). The causeway was decorated with painted reliefs and flanked by two huge boat graves, each 45 metres long. The construction of the pyramid itself was planned with the aim of technical simplification in mind, combined with the desire to reach the greatest possible height. For instance, the entrance, in the middle of the north side, opened directly on the ground of the pyramid court. In this way, the delicate construction of the joint of the rock-carved passage with the masonry of the building was eschewed. Although the pyramid is small, it is also the one with the steepest slope, 3/2, which implies that

The lost pyramid

Photo 6.2.  Saqqara. A picture taken from the south of the Unas pyramid (foreground). The axis connecting Unas’ diagonal with the south-east corners of the Step Pyramid (middle) and Userkaf pyramid (background) can still be perceived.

it rose to the respectable height of 43 metres. The pyramid was carefully oriented and cased with huge blocks, many of which remain on the south side.1 As a whole, the Unas project was one of the most complex in the entire history of the pyramid age. The explanation for such a “crazy” project can only be that the king was motivated by symbolic rather than functional reasons. To understand the king’s motives, we have to note that his pyramid aligns along the axis from Userkaf to Djoser (Lehner 1985c). This “Saqqara axis” (Photo 6.2), oriented ~39°, connects the south-east corner of Userkaf’s pyramid with the south-east corner of Djoser’s pyramid and then crosses over Unas’ base diagonal (also touching the area of the north-west corner of Sekhemkhet’s unfinished pyramid farther to the south-west). The “idea” of such a Saqqara axis was in a way first introduced by Userkaf, who, as we have seen, placed his pyramid near the north-east corner of Djoser’s precinct, almost certainly with the intention of making the two resemble the Khufu-Khafra pair in Giza. There can be no possible doubt, in my view, that it was precisely the wish to make the Unas project also conform to these inspiring ideas

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that determined the solutions adopted by Unas’ architects. The king asked them to do their best to conclude the Userkaf project of creating, at Saqqara, an ideal replica of the sacred landscape of Giza. The reason behind building the highest possible monument was that the project was to be recognisable to anyone approaching the plateau, while the height of the wall of the Step Pyramid complex would have obstructed the view of the pyramid. To increase the visibility of the pyramid further, the alignment was set along the diagonal, not along the south-east corner. There is usually good visibility even today between Saqqara and Giza, and the striking resemblance between the Saqqara central field after Unas’ additions and the fourth dynasty necropolis can still be perceived after 4400 years, looking along the Saqqara axis and then shifting one’s gaze to the north-west, where the ruined pyramids at Abusir also seem a sort of faded copy of the Giza pyramids towering in the background. 6.2  Teti and Userkara The transition from the fifth to the sixth dynasty is marked by Teti’s reign, although no indications of any abrupt changes appear in the archaeological records. This is true also for the location of Teti’s pyramid. Teti was Unas’ successor, and he was clearly determined to align his tomb along the Saqqara axis described earlier. The architects of the king were faced, however, with a difficult – though by no means new – problem. Indeed, as in Giza for Sahura and in Abusir for Niuserra, it was impossible for Teti in Saqqara to build his pyramid to the south-west of Unas, in a position that was remote in the desert and partially occupied by the old Sekhemkhet complex. On the other hand, the outcrop of the Saqqara ridge at the southern end of the row of first dynasty mastabas and to the north-east of Userkaf’s pyramid was (excluding the pyramid possibly belonging to Menkauhor, which perhaps was already there) still free. It was, however, the first time that a pyramid had to be added to the east end of an axis, and of course this could have been interpreted as being offensive to the other kings in the row. Probably for this reason, it is not the south-west but the north-west corner of the pyramid that was aligned. In this way, people climbing onto the Saqqara plateau and moving towards Teti’s complex still experienced a visual effect resembling the one that could be seen when approaching Giza from Heliopolis. The

The lost pyramid

effect was “introduced” by the Teti monument in the foreground, but without obstructing the original view. The location chosen by Teti, albeit favourable, is a lofty one, and the construction of a causeway would have been problematic. As it happened, it seems that neither the causeway nor the valley temple was ever constructed. The pyramid set a standard which would be followed subsequently: 150 cubits base, 100 cubits tall, 4/3 slope. The workmanship in the construction of Teti’s pyramid and later ones was shoddy, and the filling was partly executed with debris, so when the casing was removed by stone looters, the nucleus collapsed, giving rise to the low mounds we can see today. An interesting enigma is the way in which Teti’s pyramid complex differs from all the others: orientation. Indeed, the pyramid deviates about 9° west of north. Clearly, this orientation is deliberate, since it is the only case found in the whole Old Kingdom of a royal tomb not oriented to the cardinal points. The key to such orientation appears to be at the eastern horizon: at azimuth 9° north of east, on the other bank of the Nile, the rock ridge exhibits a notch. This notch is the depression of a wadi, the wadi Hof, and corresponds to a solar declination of about +8°. The sun rises at the centre of the wadi, creating an evocative Akhet hierophany, around 10 April and 2 September (Belmonte and Shaltout 2009).2 Manetho states that Teti was murdered by his palace bodyguards. What really happened we do not know, but something dramatic must have occurred to bring to the throne a king named Userkara, (Kanawati 2002; Baud and Dobrev 1995). The pyramid of Userkara is missing from the list of the royal Egyptian pyramids. It is true that Userkara’s reign most probably lasted only from two to four years, around 2334 BC according to the Baines and Malek chronology. However, the planning of a king’s pyramid probably commenced very early, and therefore it is reasonable to assume that at least the first stages of the construction of Userkara’s tomb were already under way at the time of his death. If we reject as unlikely the idea that the construction was never started, then there is still a distinct possibility of finding the building site buried in the desert sands. Of course, we can rule out the chances of finding the burial place undisturbed. Nevertheless, the discovery of the tomb might be helpful in clearing up historical issues connected with Userkara’s accession and kingship. Furthermore, all royal pyramids after Unas are inscribed with

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the Pyramid Texts. Consequently, a hitherto unknown copy of the texts might be located in the king’s burial site. The search for this “lost pyramid” would logically have to be carried out at Saqqara, but this would be akin to looking for a needle in a haystack in the absence of further information. One possibility would be to attribute the pyramid Lepsius 29, located to the north-east of Teti, to Userkara instead of Menkauhor. Indeed, this pyramid seems (judging from existing, rather imprecise maps) to be oriented as Teti’s. However, the burial chamber of this pyramid is devoid of texts, a point in favour of a pre-Unas date (or a much later one; a complete survey of this monument would be worthwhile). Another possibility is that Userkara moved to the south, simply because the central field was by now really overcrowded. Recent excavations in the zone known as Tabbet al-Guesh, to the immediate south of the Saqqara central field, have unearthed tombs of sixth dynasty dignitaries, and geo-radar surveys have revealed the presence of two adjacent, squared structures underneath, oriented north to south. It may be that they are the foundations of the pyramid and its funerary temple, as the excavators believe (Dobrev 2006, 2008). However, according to the geo-radar results, the funerary temple would in this case be located north of the pyramid, a decidedly unusual position (echoed only by some structures to the north of the Step Pyramid, near the Serdab). Therefore, in my opinion, the geo-radar images rather show a double mastaba tomb (similar to the Lepsius 25 complex located in Abusir, probably dating from the end of the fifth dynasty; see Krejci 2001). If this is not Userkara’s pyramid either, where on earth are we supposed to search for it? My proposal is that the pyramid of the king must be sought by using the sacred landscape at Saqqara as a reference grid. To explain what I mean, we should first discuss the way in which later pyramids were set into the same landscape. 6.3  In search of a lost pyramid The architects of the successor to Userkara, Pepi I (probably a son of Unas), chose the area of Saqqara south already inaugurated by Djedkara. The pyramid complex of Pepi is quite standard, perhaps its most striking feature being the presence of a great number of queens’ pyramids. The

The lost pyramid

Photo 6.3.  Saqqara south. The remains of the Pepi I pyramid.

French mission excavating the complex has so far discovered seven such pyramids, the last one belonging to a queen called Behenu, with remains of Pyramid Texts on the walls (Berger-El-Naggar 2005; Berger-El-Naggar and Fraisse 2008). The pyramids of the Pepi queens literally inundate the area to the south of the king’s pyramid, forming a small “village” whose southern boundary aligns on an axis of azimuth ~60° originating at the south-east corner of the satellite pyramid of the Pharaoh and touching the Nubunet, Inenek, Meretites II and Ankhespepy II pyramids to the south-west. The position of the Pepi I pyramid (Photo 6.3) was carefully chosen in such a way as to inaugurate a new kind of topographical relationship between royal monuments (Goyon 1977). These are meridian – that is, north-south – lines; the apex of Pepi I indeed aligns on the same meridian as that of Userkaf.3 The remains of the pyramid of Pepi’s successor, Merenra, are recognisable as the low mound some 500 metres to the south-west. There can be little doubt that this monument was placed there in order to align along another meridian, that of the pyramid of Unas. Furthermore, a “dynastic” principle was respected since the pyramid lies (roughly) on

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the diagonal of Pepi I (azimuth ~42°), and this certainly contributed to the decision to place it almost due west of that of Djedkara, a fairly unusual positioning. Merenra’s successor Pepi II (who is also the builder of the last pyramid of the Old Kingdom) would most likely have wished to respect the two constraints: (1) meridian alignment with a pyramid at Saqqara central and (2) south-west alignment with his predecessors. However, the area to the south-west of Merenra’s pyramid – where the meridian of the westernmost pyramid at Saqqara, Sekhemkhet’s, and the dynastic diagonal intersect – is in the middle of a wadi. As a result, Pepi II was obliged to move farther south, choosing the first position available on the same meridian. This position is very near Shepsekaf’s monument. There is no possible explanation other than the symbolic one for such a choice. Indeed, although it is true that it was possible to take advantage of the pre-existing fourth dynasty causeway, the geology of the area is unfavourable, and the pyramid was probably subjected to structural problems which led to the construction of a mudbrick “bandage wall”, which seems to have had retaining (rather than artistic) functions (to avoid similar problems, Shepsekaf’s mastaba had been built on an artificial terrace). Besides, Pepi II might well have chosen a more easterly position for his building site in the same area, for instance precisely along Shepsekaf’s causeway, where the later, small pyramid of Ibi was placed. As a matter of fact, all three of Userkara’s successors, Pepi I, Merenra and Pepi II, chose to align their pyramids on the meridian of a pre-existing pyramid of the Saqqara central field. For these alignments, bearings taken onsite with a precision magnetic compass give an accuracy within ½°; the same holds if a topographical (1:5000) map is used. Furthermore, when the same alignments are rerun using the Google Earth program, they are not only fully confirmed but turn out to be unexpectedly precise, comparable to the precision attained by the ancient Egyptians in orienting the pyramids. This opens up new possibilities in the study of monument orientation in the Old Kingdom, with particular reference to the simultaneous transit theory. The satellite images, however, can produce local distortion effects (Redzwan, Firuz and Ramli 2007; Potere 2008), and error is always to be expected when centring monuments. It would thus be advisable to carry out a complete survey of these alignments using a

The lost pyramid

high-precision transit instrument. At any rate, their planning required the use of astronomical sightings in order to find true north and then to collimate the position with that of the pre-existing monument, perhaps surmounted by a reflecting (golden) signal. As we learned in Chapter 3, determination of true north was effected with nocturnal observations focusing on the transit of “imperishable” stars, the stars repeatedly mentioned in the Pyramid Texts and connected in the “rebirth” process of the king. We might conjecture, then, that the meridian axes at Saqqara have a mixed dynastic/stellar origin. Once again, they represent a new way of making explicit reference to an ancient past. The final result of the combined action of dynastic and meridian axes is that the sacred landscape of the Saqqara necropolis is criss-crossed by ideal lines aimed at harmonising the newly constructed monuments with the pre-existing landscape. This harmonisation included the northern sky, with its symbolic content, but also – yet again – the “dynastic” landscape; that is, exploiting dynastic (either blood or ideal) relationships with previous rulers by means of topographical and visual references to their monuments. At this point, however, a curious chain of facts emerges. Indeed, Pepi I  – allegedly the first king to put a pyramid in “meridian alignment” with a pre-existing one – chose that of Userkaf, in spite of the fact that Djoser’s pyramid was by far the most important and revered pyramid at Saqqara. An alignment with Djoser would have prompted a building site some 200 metres west, without creating any serious logistical problems. After Pepi I, Merenra also rejected the position in meridian alignment with Djoser’s pyramid and aligned the apex of his pyramid with that of Unas. Finally, Pepi II moved farther to the south-west, aligning the apex of his pyramid with that of Sekhemkhet. In the end, then, we have four pyramids in the Saqqara central field, of which all but the most important have aligned pyramids in Saqqara south. This is rather strange, since one would expect the most important pyramid to have been the first to be designated as a target for a meridian alignment. On the other hand, what we are missing is precisely the pyramid allegedly constructed just before the first of the series at Saqqara south. I therefore recently proposed that the complex of Userkara may have been located in meridian alignment with Djoser, and that therefore its remains must lie along Djoser’s meridian, perhaps even right in the middle of the Pepi I–Merenra diagonal (Magli 2010a, b) (Figure 6.1).

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6.1.  Map of the monuments of Saqqara and Saqqara south, with the Saqqara central field axis (from the north-east, it runs along the north-west corner of Teti, the south-east corners of Userkaf and Djoser, the diagonal of Unas and the north-west corner of Sekhemkhet) and the meridian alignments between the pyramids at Saqqara south and those of Saqqara central (Pepi I to Userkaf, Merenra to Unas, Pepi II to Sekhemkhet) highlighted. The meridian passing through the apex of the Step Pyramid is also traced, although it does not connect to other pyramids. The point located along this meridian and along the diagonal connecting Pepi I and Merenra is denoted by P.

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The lost pyramid

6.4  Pyramids and landscapes of power: A look back at the Old Kingdom Just as with any scientific discipline, archaeoastronomy can make predictions which can be tested against the facts, and indeed the proposal just made for the location of the Userkara tomb might be considered an attempt at predictive archaeoastronomy. A noninvasive survey of the area of Saqqara south directly to the south of Djoser’s pyramid will hopefully be performed in the near future. Whatever may happen, and however the search for the “lost pyramid” is destined to end, it is time for us to summarise what we have learned about Old Kingdom sacred landscapes. The first, and fundamental, observation is that, although the placement and the project of pyramidal complexes had to take a series of practical factors into account (availability of quarries and accessibility of materials, to say nothing of state financing), it is undeniable that, in many, if not all, cases, the pyramids were not constructed in the most favourable available places. The main examples are: –– Khufu at Giza (the best place would have been in the area of Khafra) –– Khafra at Giza (the best place would have been some 100 metres to the east) –– Menkaura at Giza (much better places available to the east) –– Userkaf at Saqqara (much better places to the east) –– Neferirkara at Abusir (better places to the east, later used by Niuserra) –– Neferefra at Abusir (better places to the east) –– Unas at Saqqara (much better places to the north-east, later used by Teti) –– Pepi II at Saqqara south (better places to the east) Considering this list, we can only suppose that it was the implacable will of the Pharaohs that put enormous pressure on the builders to ensure that rules of symbolic origin were adhered to: the topography of the pyramid’s fields evolved along axes because such axes fulfilled symbolic requirements. Otherwise, the distribution of the pyramids on the edge of the desert from Abu Roash to Dahshur would have been quite different from the one we can see today: we would see the monuments as scattered spots, each one in an advantageous position, and we would never see a pyramid

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in such an improbable site as, for instance, those of Menkaura at Giza and of Unas at Saqqara. Symbolic rules governing the sacred landscape are thus of primal importance in understanding the evolution of the royal funerary architecture in the Old Kingdom, as well as its relationship with power and divine kingship. The ordered landscape included a wide range of elements: the natural landscape and the sky, but also what could be called the dynastic – or memorial – landscape, namely the desire to place the funerary monument in direct relationship with pre-existing ones, which had been built by Pharaohs who were related by direct lineage (for example, as occurs in Giza and Abusir) and/or by affinity of religious/political ideas. These elements resulted in three different “families” of topographical axes (not mutually exclusive, since, for instance, Giza belongs to both of the first two). These families are (Magli 2010a): 1. The Heliopolitan Family, consisting of lines of sight between Heliopolis and Abu Roash, Giza, Zawiet el Arian and Abu Gorab/Abusir. 2. The Inter-cardinal Family, made up of the following lines: –– The Khufu-Djedefra diagonal (45° north of west) –– The Giza axis (45°) –– The Niuserra dynastic axis at Abusir (42°) –– The second Niuserra axis at Abusir (45° north of west) –– The Saqqara central field axis (39°) –– The Pepi I–Merenra axis (42°) 3. The Meridian Family, made up of south to north lines connecting Pepi I with Userkaf, Merenra with Unas, and Pepi II with Sekhemkhet. Astronomy played a fundamental role in the planning of such an ordered landscape. First of all, the circumpolar (imperishable) stars were used, by means of simple devices, to establish the orientation of the pyramids from the beginning of the fourth dynasty. Later these stars were explicitly mentioned in the Pyramid Texts and were almost certainly used to establish meridian axes at Saqqara south. Another group of stars to appear prominently is that of the “southern” decanal stars whose setting azimuths were between those of Canopus and Sirius. Explicit reference to the stars of Orion and to Sirius first occurs in the Khufu southern shafts; immediately after, the southern decanal stars

The lost pyramid

played a special role in determining choices relating to the modelling of the sacred landscape during the “solar kings” period. Finally, of course, the sun played a prominent role, both in specific orientation choices – at Giza, at Saqqara for the Teti pyramid, and for all the funerary and valley temples which were oriented to the cardinal points but open to the east  – and in the codification of symbolic rules of visibility/invisibility from the main cult centre of the sun itself, Heliopolis. The result of this stratification of symbolic references to the celestial afterworld of the Pharaohs – and implicitly, to their power on earth – was that the relatively restricted area where the Age of the Pyramids developed was criss-crossed by ideal, carefully traced lines, interconnecting visible monuments and places. One point that emerges clearly, and one that I cannot emphasise too strongly, is that it was not enough for the planners, or the high priests and officials, to be aware of the existence of a symbolic link between the newly built pyramid complex and the pre-existing ones. These links had to be, and were, public. There is no esoteric knowledge hidden in the sacred landscape of the Old Kingdom. The symbolic messages had to be made visible – I want to say familiar, as Mircea Eliade would  – to any pious person approaching the royal necropolis, the place where the cults of the dead Pharaohs were carried on. Pyramid building was a massive effort, in which the whole nation was involved. We do know, thanks especially to the excavations of the Giza workers’ quarters, that the pyramids were not constructed by slaves, or by peasants during the flood season, but by a relatively restricted group of skilled, well-fed workers (Lehner 2002). However, the maintenance of such a workforce, as well as labourers in distant quarries like Aswan, was a huge economic burden, which had effects at the national level. This in turn spurred the populace to share in the Pharaoh’s aspirations to live in eternity, along with the Ka of the nation. The result of such endeavours was to be visible to everybody; fine theological points were naturally held to be beyond general understanding, but a certain grasp of the significance of these colossal monuments and of the way they were arranged on the ground would have filtered down to a relatively large strata of people. I agree with Assmann (2003), according to whom the sacred space of the Old Kingdom was essentially reserved for the Pharaoh, and yet the very same sacred space was regulated in such a way

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as to show explicitly to everyone that Maat, the cosmic order whose keeper was the king, was being maintained for the benefit of the whole country. The Pharaohs spelled out this message so plainly that, even though so many years have passed, their burning desire to express their profound connection with their ancestors in stone, and their hope to live forever amid the imperishable stars, can still be perceived clearly today.

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We applaud your beautiful face you biggest of all Gods, Amun-Ra (Inscription by Thutmose III, High Room of the Sun, Karnak)

7 Renaissance at the winter solstice

7.1 Renaissance at the winter solstice After the collapse of the Old Kingdom, Egypt entered a turbulent phase which is usually referred to as the First Intermediate period. The dreaded separation of “the two lands” actually came to pass: the Theban dynasty ruled Upper Egypt, while Lower Egypt came under the control of a rival kingship. Reunification of the country came about with the eleventh dynasty, under the Theban king Mentuhotep II (around 2061 BC; the king’s name is a homage to the Theban war god Montu), who can thus be regarded as the founder of the Middle Kingdom. With the eleventh dynasty, we witness the renaissance of monumental architecture and, in this context, the rising importance of cult (“divine”) temples. In particular, four temples were founded in honour of Montu in the Theban region. These are located, from north to south on the east bank, at Medamud, Karnak and Tod, and at Armant on the west bank. A further temple on the west bank, already existing and devoted to Horus, was completely reconstructed. It is located on a spur to the north usually called Thoth Hill. The place is a little tricky to negotiate, but the stupendous view over the Nile Valley more than makes up for it. Excavations have shown that a first temple had already been built here in the Early Dynastic period, but the building visible today dates from the eleventh dynasty and was constructed by Mentuhotep III (Voros 2000). This temple is directly faced, on the opposite bank of the Nile, by the temple at Medamud (reconstructed in Ptolemaic times). The two monuments “speak to each other” from the opposite sides of the river, and – at least in my view – delineate a sort of symbolic northern boundary, conceived at the beginning of the Middle Kingdom and guarded by Horus

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7.1.  The area of Thebes, with the position of the two pairs of temples located, at the beginning of the Middle Kingdom, as its northernmost and southernmost landmarks.

and Montu, for the sacred city of Thebes (Figure 7.1). The same impression is conveyed, to the south of the town, by the temples of Armant and Tod. However, the Tod building directly faces not Armant but a somewhat prominent peak on the hills to the south-west of it, which today is occupied by a military installation. I would not be surprised, though, if traces of eleventh dynasty activity were to be found there also. During the excavation of the Thoth Hill temple, a slight offset of about 2° between the Early Dynastic building and the later one led archaeologists to speculate that the temple may have originally been oriented to the heliacal rising of Sirius, the star of Horus’ mother Isis, and then reoriented taking the precessional drift of this star into account. This would be an important discovery also because it might constitute evidence for the astronomers’ awareness of an effect – the slow change in the rising position of a star – which is due to precession (Section 1.4 of Box 1). That the observation of precession-dependent effects was practised by ancient astronomers has always been denied in the scientific literature, where the first discovery of the precessional motion of the earth axis is by default attributed to the Greek astronomer Hipparchus. Although Hipparchus was probably the first to attempt a systematic explanation, it

Renaissance at the winter solstice

is virtually impossible to believe – given the highly accurate registrations of the rising, transit and setting of stars made by the Babylonians or by the Egyptian astronomers who compiled the decanal lists  – that they were completely unaware that some phenomenon was slowly acting in the background, changing the declination of bright stars and the background of the stars where the sun was rising at particular moments of the solar year. The same holds for the simultaneous transit method, whose precession-dependent inaccuracy would have become evident in the centuries which separate the fourth dynasty monuments from the last Old Kingdom pyramids. Nevertheless, I must stress that there is no definitive evidence in Egyptian texts or architecture pointing to the possession of such knowledge, and  – alas  – Thoth Hill is no exception. In fact, the calculations which should show deliberate orientation to the rising of Sirius are compromised by the idea that the heliacal rising of this star can be seen only at a very high altitude (around 10°). This is definitely too much, as Sirius can be seen to rise heliacally at a much lower height, as anyone who has tested this in Egypt  – including myself, and I am certainly not a skilled naked-eye astronomer – can attest. So, in reality, the azimuths of the temple do not match the phenomenon. The temple is probably one of the first instances of Theban monuments oriented to the winter solstice sunrise. The orientation was maintained, and perhaps ameliorated, in the Middle Kingdom reconstruction when the bend in the axis was effected (Belmonte and Shaltout 2005). Orientation to winter solstice sunrise is a pattern that was to become of the utmost significance in the Theban area. Another early example can be seen in the magnificent funerary monument of Mentuhotep II. The complex is located in a “bay” – very similar to those found on a seacoast – which opens up to the north-west of Thebes, on the west bank of the Nile. This place is today called Deir el Bahri and is rightly famous for the temple of Hatshepsut, which was constructed there 600 years later (Chapter 8). The Deir el Bahri bay is located immediately to the north of a conical peak, el Qurn, which would subsequently play an important role in the sacred landscape of Thebes. It may be, though, that its presence as a natural pyramid almost directly above the bay was already an important landmark for Mentuhotep II. The complex, which was constructed in several distinct stages, is today badly damaged, and tourists wandering around the nearby Hatshepsut temple scarcely bother to glance at it; yet it must have been quite sumptuous. It was conceived of

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as a T-shaped terrace housing buildings comprising two underground structures; one is the so-called Bab el Hosan, the cenotaph we have already discussed in Chapter 2, and the other is the true underground tomb of the king. In some sources, the complex is referred to as a pyramid, but according to recent reconstructions, the central edifice never was of pyramidal shape (Arnold 1979). At the west end of the terrace, a vast hypostyle hall was built directly at the foot of the hill, with a niche hewn into the cliff. Almost certainly, a statue of the king would have been placed there, serving as a focal point for the entire complex. The monument as a whole was quite an original, imposing building, conspicuous from the opposite side of the Nile, as is Hatshepsut’s temple today, the temple being right in the middle of the bay (it is unclear why the Middle Kingdom king chose a lateral position, perhaps because of the presence of other buildings later demolished by Hatshepsut). The complex does not, however, face any recognisable feature or building on the opposite bank of the Nile; in particular, the axis of the Karnak temple runs slightly to the north of the bay (so that of Hatshepsut does not face it either as is sometimes erroneously asserted). The orientation of the axis is thus, as mentioned, clearly solar, as it points to the rising sun at the winter solstice. The same orientation is shared by the axis of the funerary complex probably belonging to the king’s son Mentuhotep III, which is located in the hills south of Deir el Bahri but was left unfinished. This orientation thus begins to distinguish itself as a regional pattern of Thebes, as is dramatically confirmed by the alignment of the most important of all Egyptian temples: Karnak. The area usually called Karnak contains a huge complex of temples and shrines which developed into the most important sanctuary in the whole country during the New Kingdom. It was called ipet-isut; that is, the most select of places. The foundation of Karnak occurred during the eleventh dynasty, but it was with the beginning of the twelfth dynasty that a shift between Montu and Amun as the main divinity associated with kingship was seen, and Karnak’s importance started to grow. Amun was a complex, multiform deity. He was originally a creator god but would soon acquire solar connotations, and, once joined with Ra as Amun-Ra, would become by far the most important divinity of the Egyptian pantheon. His chthonic connotations, however, lingered on; Amun is, in fact, usually invoked as “the hidden one” and also as “the one who hears prayers”, with reference to oracular activities carried out in his name.

Renaissance at the winter solstice

The foundation (or re-foundation) of Karnak as the main cult centre of Amun is attributed to the second ruler of the twelfth dynasty, Senwosret I (Blyth 2006). Remains of his building are visible in the innermost court, and their axis is aligned with the winter solstice sunrise (the orientation of the Middle Kingdom settlement nearby is slightly different, a fact that might warrant further investigation). The front of the temple, however, pointed to the opposite side, towards the Nile. Since the axis points to the winter solstice sunrise, the front theoretically points to the summer solstice sunset. This does not, however, mean that the last rays of the setting sun at midsummer can penetrate the temple, because this would only work with a flat horizon. The horizon is, rather, occupied by the Theban hills, which obstruct the view (so that summer solstice sunset is seen along a lower azimuth). The astronomical orientation of Karnak was thus definitively to the winter solstice sunrise (a fact which will be abundantly confirmed by the New Kingdom additions to the temple, as we shall see in Chapter 8), while to the west the axis is actually orthogonal to the direction of the river, a factor which has been suggested as being of further help in establishing the sanctity of the place (Belmonte and Shaltout 2009). But why was Amun-Ra, the hidden one, the “new” god whom the “new” kings wished to “push” to the head of the pantheon, associated with the rising sun at the winter solstice? There is no getting away from the thought that this choice must have stemmed from calendrical considerations. Indeed, in the years around the foundation of Karnak, the calendar completed one-half of its turnaround with respect to the solar cycle, and thus New Year’s Day coincided with the winter solstice (Hawkings 1974, Bauval 2007). 7.2  Kings from the south The last king of the eleventh dynasty is probably Mentuhotep IV, mentioned in some inscriptions but absent from the lists of kings. This has led to speculation about the possibility that his successor, Amenemhet I (1991–1962 BC), the first king of the twelfth dynasty, was a usurper. Be that as it may, with the twelfth dynasty Egypt enters the most brilliant phase of the Middle Kingdom, and the kings resume constructing pyramids for their burials. The remains of seven royal pyramids of the twelfth dynasty are today scattered about on the ridge of the desert between Dahshur and the

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northern rim of the Fayoum oasis (Figure 3.1). Most of them are in a bad state, due to erosion and looting occurring over the centuries. What we can see does not, therefore, do justice to the grandiosity of the original projects (Arnold 1991). Indeed, like the Old Kingdom pyramids, those of the Middle Kingdom were designed and built to be visible symbols of power. Their placement on the landscape was meant to convey a series of messages relating to the divine nature of the kings as well as their dynastic claims to kingship. Contrary to what happens in the Old Kingdom, where a series of changes in these messages can be traced in the evolving architecture, first up to the apex of the solar kings and then with the appearance of the Pyramid Texts and the return to Saqqara, in the case of the twelfth dynasty monuments the messages appear to be even more coherent. It is thus worth starting with a general overview of all these monuments (Table A.6). The reign of Amenemhet I was inspired by a return to ancient traditions and values. Although the king was almost certainly born in Thebes, he chose to found a new capital in the north. We know that the city was called Amenemhet the Seizer of the Two Lands; unfortunately, it has never been rediscovered, but it was very probably located near the modern village of Lisht, because it is here that the king decided to construct his pyramid. Lisht is approximately midway between Meidum and Dahshur, the two sites where King Snefru had constructed his pyramids some 600 years earlier. Of course, this fact may have simply been due to chance, but we shall see later that the continuous reference to Snefru  – and thus to the epoch just before the time of the “solar” kings initiated by Khufu – is anyhow crucial to understanding the Middle Kingdom pyramid projects. As in the Old Kingdom, also during the twelfth dynasty each royal pyramid had its own name (for Amenemhet I it was The Places of the Appearances of Amenemhet). The pyramid is located near the ridge of the desert, a rule which would always be followed subsequently. The complex clearly resembles those of the Old Kingdom, with a valley temple, a causeway and a funerary temple located on the east side of the pyramid. Blocks from funerary complexes of the Old Kingdom, including Khufu’s, were reused in the pyramid. Since they were transported upstream, it is difficult to believe that they were used for convenience; it is more likely that some kind of magic power or force was believed to attach to them. The bulk of the pyramid was built with small stones and rubble, but the

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surface was covered with slabs of white Tura limestone, the same used for Old Kingdom pyramids. Therefore, once finished, the appearance of the monuments did not differ significantly; the same holds for the height, which probably was around 55 metres, comparable to Menkaura at Giza. The entrance was in the north face at ground level, as was standard in the sixth dynasty, with the chamber on the pyramid’s vertical axis. As in Theban tombs of the period, the funerary apartment is accessed through a vertical shaft; unfortunately, the level of water has risen considerably since construction, and the burial chamber of this pyramid has never been explored. The successor of Amenemhet I, Senwosret I, located his pyramid about 1.5 kilometres to the south of his father’s. The pyramid was called Senwosret beholds the two lands and included as many as nine queens’ pyramids. With an estimated height of 61 metres and a carefully laid casing of white stone, it was an imposing monument, constructed with the aid of a framework of skeleton walls (Arnold 1988). The causeway of the complex, originally unroofed, was rebuilt with a roof and with the addition of a series of standing statues of the king in Osiris form, testifying to the increasing importance of this god. The importance of Osiris is connected to a process of “democratisation” of the afterlife (Shaw 2000). We can extract information on this shift in attitude towards the hereafter from contemporary funerary texts called Coffin Texts (Mathieu 2004). These are in many ways similar to the Pyramid Texts, yet their presence in the interior of funerary coffins of officials, priests, local governors and their families demonstrates that direct access to the afterlife was no longer exclusively a royal prerogative. A series of new elements also appear which contrast with Pyramid Texts traditions. In particular, for the first time, rough graphic depictions of the underworld chambers were made, and in one of these chambers the deceased were subjected to judgement before they could be united with both Osiris and Ra: “He will be like Ra in the eastern sky, like Osiris in the netherworld”, says Utterance 1031 (trans. Faulkner 2004). The encounter with Osiris in the afterworld takes on a sinister, otherworldly quality, as it takes place in a recessed region or a room in complete darkness. It is perhaps on account of the connection with the realm of Osiris that the pyramids of this period display very deep funerary chambers and, from Senwosret II onward, also a curious “winding” layout. However, no funerary texts associated with a Middle Kingdom

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royal burial have ever been found, so we cannot be certain whether the Coffin Texts reflect the royal funerary cult in totality; as a matter of fact, it may be that this cult was already associated with a version of an even gloomier text, as we shall see shortly. In spite of the fact that the new pyramid’s field at Lisht was readily available for the construction of further monuments, the successor of Amenemhet I, Amenemhet II, did not choose to build his pyramid near that of his father, but drastically changed the building site to Dahshur. No one knows the reasons for this. In their authoritative surveys, Lehner (1999) does not discuss this issue, while Verner (2002a) says that this choice happened “for some reason”. As we learned in the first part of this book, however, in the Old Kingdom there was always a very important reason, usually symbolic rather than practical, for the choice of the building site of a royal pyramid. It was usually related to the king’s wish to be in proximity to selected predecessors, and explicit symbolism was embodied in the visual axes between monuments of dynastically related kings. In the case of Amenemhet II, an analogous mechanism was certainly in play: the king wished to make an explicit reference to Snefru. To substantiate a symbolic, as opposed to functional, motive for the choice of Dahshur, one might cite the tale called Prophecy of Neferti, a text written during the early twelfth dynasty (Kelly Simpson 1972; Lichtheim 1973). The story develops, indeed, at the court of Snefru, where a sage called Neferti is entertaining the king. The Pharaoh asks the sage to predict the future, and Neferti depicts a dark vision of the country in the throes of chaos. Chaos will be brought to an end by “a king from the south”, who will restore order. The text clearly has a propagandist aim, since the forthcoming king in question is Amenemhet I. Interestingly, the structure of the tale is akin to that of the Westcar Papyrus, where a similar mechanism – a sage predicting a new generation of kings – is used to justify the rise of the fifth dynasty. In the Westcar Papyrus, the king adopted to officialise the new generation is Khufu, and indeed the new generation of kings is that of the “sons of the Sun God” of the fifth dynasty. In the case of the Neferti prophecy, the choice of the last king before the solar tradition, Khufu’s father, Snefru, appears to denote the increasing distance between the Pharaoh’s doctrine of power and solar, Heliopolitan ideas. It is no coincidence that the cult of Snefru in Dahshur was extensively revived during the twelfth dynasty, when, for instance, the offering temple on the east side of the Bent Pyramid

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Photo 7.1.  El-Lahun. The pyramid of Senwosret II seen from the east.

was rebuilt with the addition of mudbrick walls to regulate the flow of worshippers (Fakhry 1959). On the contrary, no similar revival of cults whatsoever is documented at Giza (Malek 2000). The choice of the building site of the pyramid of Amenemhet II at Dahshur is an explicit citation of Snefru. The monument lies to the east of Snefru’s Red Pyramid and was surrounded by a huge rectangular enclosure oriented east to west. It is, unfortunately, in a completely ruined state due to widespread plundering, so it is impossible to estimate its original height. The mortuary temple is also in a state of dilapidation, but its position can be identified by the remains of two pylons located on the façade. The interior structure of the pyramid is quite simple and follows the protocol requiring the entrance to be in the middle of the north side. This, however, was to be the last time such an arrangement would be employed. The successor of Amenemhet II, Senwosret II, decided to break this rule and to build his pyramid at a completely new site, El-Lahun (Photo 7.1). El-Lahun is located on the southern rim of the desert ridge just before the mouth of the Fayoum oasis channel (Figure 3.1). The choice of such a place is usually explained by an “interest in the Fayoum oasis” on the

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part of the king, who is credited with some drainage works in the area. As it turns out, we are certain that it was during the early Middle Kingdom that the Fayoum basin was reclaimed and transformed into a prosperous agricultural area by diverting part of the Nile through a channel leading to Lake Moeris. It is, however, unclear if the completion of these works – perhaps started by Amenemhet I – is to be imputed to Senwosret II; indeed it has been argued that the presence of the king’s pyramid at El-Lahun is proof of this (see, for example, Shaw 2000). Perhaps the odd location of El-Lahun at the very “mouth” of the Fayoum channel and therefore in conspicuous view of all people entering the area may be adduced as further evidence to back up this choice – to which, in any case, we shall be returning later. The monument, originally around 50 metres high, is relatively well conserved, due to its construction on an outcrop of yellow limestone. Most of the pyramid was built with mudbricks, with stone cross-walls inserted to improve stability. The casing is no longer present and had probably already been removed by the time of Ramesses II. The interior structure was investigated by Petrie (1891), who was initially unable to find the entrance. In fact, access is not located on the middle of the north side but in a baffling position: the pyramid courtyard near the east end of the south side. Clearly, architectural features connected with the rebirth of the king in the region of the northern stars, mandatory in the Old Kingdom, are lost here. Rather, we have, on one hand, a growing awareness of the danger of future looting of the pyramids in turbulent times, and on the other, the rise of the Osiris cult’s influence on the architect’s choices. In particular, it has been suggested that the “interest for the south” stems from the fact that Osiris’ tomb was supposed to be located in Abydos, the main cult centre of this god, and that the general plan of the interior arrangement was determined by analogy with the god’s “apartment” in the underworld. According to Petrie, at the north-west corner of the burial chamber, a passage without any apparent function loops around the room, maybe suggesting some symbolic meaning; indeed the concept of a “subterranean island” was associated with Osiris’ death and resurrection. (Today it is possible only to crawl up to the beginning of the corridor, the entrance to the underground chambers being filled by sand and thus unreachable.) A similar “winding” internal plan will be adopted also for the Senwosret III pyramid at Dahshur and for the Amenemhet III pyramid at Hawara (Figure 7.2).

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7.2.  The interior apartments of the pyramid of Amenemhet III at Hawara.

Another influence of the emerging cult may perhaps be perceived in the presence of a row of trees planted around the outer wall of the complex, possibly representing the grove supposedly surrounding Osiris’ ­primeval tomb. 7.3 The topography of the beyond The reign of the son of Senwosret II, Senwosret III, might be considered the apogee of the Middle Kingdom. This Pharaoh is indeed credited with substantial developments in the country and with the resulting economic prosperity. For his pyramid complex he returned to Dahshur, north-east of the Red Pyramid. Yet, as we shall see presently, the chances are that the king was not buried there and that the Dahshur pyramid was his cenotaph. The pyramid of Senwosret III was an immense undertaking, and it was probably as tall as 78 metres (making it the tallest of all the pyramids from the fifth dynasty onwards), although today only a flattened mound can be seen. Its entrance is located near the north-west corner. From there a vertical shaft drops to a descending corridor; the corridor then turns twice and arrives in a burial chamber which is off-centre in relation

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to the pyramid. The chamber contains an enormous granite sarcophagus – designed as a sort of miniature replica of the Djoser Step Pyramid enclosure wall at Saqqara – but the room gives the impression of never having been disturbed or plundered. No funerary equipment has been found, and no exploration has ever hinted at the existence of further royal chambers. Thus, the pyramid was perhaps not used for the king’s burial, although we know it was used for the tomb of one of his queens, Weret II (Arnold 2003). The queen is indeed the owner of a subsidiary pyramid, whose funerary apartments extend also under the south-west quarter of the king’s pyramid, with access from a shaft in the courtyard. Other queens and possibly other royal persons were buried to the north, in an underground cemetery which extends under four other small pyramids. Another important discovery made nearby was that of six “funerary” wooden boats buried in the sand. In an Old Kingdom context, this kind of find would be ascribed to the solar cult tradition; however, we should remember that the Early Dynastic enclosures in Abydos were also associated with burials of boats. Actually, it is plausible to think that Senwosret III was buried precisely in Abydos, where he built another funerary complex (Currelly 1904; Wegner 1995, 2007b, 2009). The Abydos complex is located a couple of kilometres to the south of the main cult centre of Osiris (Figure 1.2). It consists of a funerary town, a mortuary temple near the cultivation, and an extended underground tomb, whose entrance is in a T-shaped enclosure just below a conical hill, to the south of the temple. This hill is part of the easternmost end of the cliffs located to the south of Umm el Qaab and is undoubtedly a seminal element of the Senwosret III tomb site. The location was selected in such a way that, approaching the site, the cliff occupies the horizon prominently. The overall effect is generally perceptible from as far off as the floodplain, but becomes striking when one is precisely in axis with the entrance to the tomb. The intentional use of this feature of the sacred landscape is undeniable, since there were no geomorphological constraints to excavating the subterranean tomb elsewhere at the base of the cliffs. The orientation of the axis of the complex is hence not of astronomical but of topographical origin. As a matter of fact, the peak resembles a pyramid, especially when viewed along the axis, so what we have here is an example of a tomb located under a natural pyramid, as would be the case in the New Kingdom with the Valley of the Kings located in the shadow of the el Qurn peak of western Thebes.

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The likelihood that the tomb is coordinated with the peak is confirmed by the plan of the tomb’s interior. The plan consists of two different sections. From the entrance, a pole-roof chamber, resembling archaic models such as the Djoser complex, leads to a first part or “outer tomb” encased in fine Tura limestone. Then the casing changes to red quartzite. This second section contains the burial chamber – with sarcophagus and canopic chest sockets concealed behind the wall masonry – followed by an arched corridor attached to which are two additional chambers. This “inner tomb” lies below the bulk of the natural pyramid, which was devoted to Anubis: the seals recovered in the complex indeed bear the -djew-Inpw, “Mountain of Anubis” (Wegner 2007b). inscription Interestingly, later in the New Kingdom, Anubis would be considered the protector of royal burials at western Thebes and would appear in the seal of the Valley of the Kings. However, the mountain tomb is denoted in Abydos with the traditional symbolic hieroglyph of the two paired peaks, whereas in Thebes (as documented, for example, in the Abbott Papyrus; see Chapter 8) the royal tomb would be denoted with its “solar” counterpart Akhet. The Senwosret III underground complex was thoroughly protected with massive blocking stones (circumvented by looters with the expedient of a tunnel), and access was concealed from above. These facts, along with the full functionality of the burial place, tend to suggest that this was the true burial place of the king. If this is accepted, then many architectural elements prompt the conviction that this tomb is the archetype of what might be called the “Amduat tomb”. This terminology comes from the likely emergence during the twelfth dynasty of a funerary, partially pictographic text, the Amduat, describing the nocturnal travel of the sun god in the realm of Osiris (Hornung 1999). Since the night was divided into twelve hours (see Section 2.2 of Box 2), a journey through the netherworld is also divided into twelve hours representing different regions in the topography of the beyond. The climactic moment of the journey occurs at the transition between the fifth and the sixth hours. The deceased passes a place which is the realm of the god Sokar, a Memphite god of the underworld already associated with Osiris in the Pyramid Texts. At this point, a merging of Ra, Osiris and the deceased takes place. This happens in a “hidden chamber”, and the original name of the Amduat was, unsurprisingly, “the Book of the Hidden Chamber”. Later hours of the Amduat describe the sun travelling towards the eastern

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horizon, where he will be reborn at dawn, the twelfth hour. The text is first documented in the early eighteenth dynasty, but many scholars are convinced that its origin must be antedated by several centuries, and the parallel with the topography of the Senwosret III tomb is, to say the least, intriguing. The path inside the tomb can indeed be seen as a symbolic route; in the outer tomb, we can see the movement into the netherworld, culminating in the burial place of the god near the midsection. In a famous New Kingdom depiction of the Amduat present in the tomb of Thutmose III, this place is represented under a stylised pyramid-like mountain, and indeed, as mentioned, the burial chamber is behind the conical hill. The subsequent inner tomb, characterised by the arching passage and the use of red quartzite (specially transported to distant Abydos at considerable expense), may symbolise the sun passage leading to rebirth on the eastern horizon. 7.4 The Amenemhet III project The son of Senwosret III, Amenemhet III, was the last great king of the Middle Kingdom. After him, pyramid construction would come to a rapid end. His successors probably commissioned two unfinished monuments at Mazghuna, a few kilometres south of Dahshur, and a few other remains exist of pyramids built by kings of the thirteenth dynasty at Saqqara south. Like that of his father, the funerary project of Amenemhet III comprises two monuments. This time, however, both monuments are pyramids, one in Dahshur (Photo 7.2) and the other in the Fayoum. The pyramid at Dahshur  – usually called the Black Pyramid  – although ruined, is a formidable presence near the ridge of the desert to the east of the Bent Pyramid. Its substructure is fairly complex and consists of two apartments, internally connected by a corridor and usually designated as the king’s and queens’ sections (De Morgan 1894; Arnold 1987). The entrance to the king’s section is located near the south-east corner on the east side, while the entrance to the queens’ section is located at the opposite end of a straight corridor and therefore near the south-west corner on the west side. In the king’s apartment, the burial chamber contains a pink granite sarcophagus similar to that of Senwosret III, with niches imitating the perimeter wall of Djoser’s Step Pyramid (including a mini-udjat eyes look ature of the entrance). On the east side, symbolic

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Photo 7.2.  Dahshur. The offering temple of the Bent Pyramid, with the pyramid of Amenemhet III in the background.

in the direction of sunrise. The queens’ section lies under the southern quadrant of the pyramid. There were two queens buried here, each with her own burial chamber. Although the pyramid was violated in antiquity, a few of their bones and items of funerary equipment were found. To the south, a third, carefully designed system of chambers was also built. It is accessible from both sections through separate corridors and consists of “ka” chapels which most likely contained statues of the deceased. This section – which is unsuitable for burials – is very elaborately structured: to each burial chamber of the apartments there corresponds a chapel, all three being situated precisely under the south side base of the pyramid. A transverse corridor runs farther south, connecting these rooms. The other pyramid constructed by Amenemhet III is positioned near the village of Hawara in the Fayoum oasis (Photo 7.3). This place is not particularly favourable for a building site; to tell the truth, it is a very poor position – just a flat, lowish stretch of desert. In any case, the pyramid – constructed, like the other, in mudbricks and originally covered with fine limestone  – is relatively well preserved. The interior is completely different from that of the Black Pyramid. The entrance is located on the south face near the south-east corner. Inside, the corridor leads north up

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Photo 7.3.  Hawara. The pyramid of Amenemhet III.

to a dead end. However, as in the Abydos tomb of Senwosret III, a corridor hidden within the ceiling leads, through two other twists blocked by portcullises, first to an antechamber and then to the burial chamber. The latter, located very near the apex projection, is acclaimed as a masterpiece of engineering; unfortunately, today the substructure is flooded by groundwater and totally inaccessible. According to Petrie (1890), the room is a huge monolithic box of quartzite sunk into a pit. Inside lies the king’s sarcophagus, together with a smaller one for a daughter of the king. Huge quartzite slabs were lowered to form a ceiling for this room using a sand-lowering device (the first appearance of such a device in Egypt), and the whole chamber was protected by a saddle vault, in turn located under a massive brick vault. The standard explanation given in the literature for the construction of two pyramids by the same king is that the Black Pyramid was “abandoned” owing to structural problems. In many textbooks, the alleged “failure” of the king’s architect at Dahshur is ironically compared with the similarly alleged “failure” of the Snefru architects some hundreds of metres to the west and some 700 years earlier; that is, the Bent Pyramid. Well, precisely as we did in that case, let us examine this alleged failure in detail.

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If one looks in many of the interior corridors and chambers of the Black Pyramid, a series of severe fractures and cracks can be seen (Arnold 1987). One explanation may be that, at one point, the weight of the overhead building exceeded the limit of subsoil resistance, which was perhaps also affected by its proximity to the groundwater level. Consequently, the ground beneath the pyramid started to crack, and the substructure along with it. Another possibility,1 which seems much more attractive to me, is that the pyramid itself did not suffer from any innate problems, but an earthquake occurred. In any event, extended fissures appeared, and some of the corridors began to collapse; in particular, cracking occurred in the ceilings of the rooms located near, or directly under, the south baseline of the pyramid. The king’s architects responded to the threat with wooden frames and reinforced walls, and indeed, with these operations the builders succeeded in halting the collapse. In my opinion, there is no doubt that they considered the pyramid to be safe, because some of their repair work was clearly inspired by aesthetic principles rather than necessity. In particular, the basis of the king’s sarcophagus was carefully plastered, with the aim of concealing from view the irregularity of levelling caused by the bulging of the floor. Why bother doing that if a new pyramid was being constructed? Furthermore, the pyramid was used for burial of the queens. It makes little sense that the queens would be buried in a structure considered unsound for the king; apropos, it should be noted that cracking occurred also in the Senwosret III queens’ burial chamber and also was carefully repaired. At the very least, the “abandonment” theory seems debatable, but it becomes untenable when several other points are taken into account. First of all, we are virtually certain that the construction of the Dahshur pyramid commenced during the co-regency of Amenemhet III with his father, when an enlargement of the Senwosret III complex nearby had not yet been carried out (Arnold 2003). As we have seen, there is strong evidence that the latter was designed only to be a cenotaph and a family burial place. Thus, it would not be beyond the bounds of possibility to suspect that the Amenemhet III pyramid, located less than 3 kilometres to the south, in part contemporary and probably designed and built by the same architects, was also devised with the same aim in mind. This idea is further confirmed by an interesting find which connects the two pyramids of the king in a symbolic manner. It is a model made of limestone and wood, which was carefully buried under the floor of the annexes of

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the temple of the Dahshur pyramid. The model is quite accurate and represents the interior arrangement of a pyramid, with a miniature portcullis ready to be operated. It is likely that this model represents the interior rooms of the pyramid at Hawara (the only difference being that it features only one sliding slab instead of three). Why was this model present in the cult centre of the Pharaoh in Dahshur? The method of its burial resembles a foundation deposit, and so the most likely answer is the existence of a symbolic, as opposed to functional, relationship between the projects of the two pyramids. Finally, even accepting for a moment the “abandonment” theory, why was the building site for the new pyramid changed so drastically? By opting for a site near the Black Pyramid (for example, the terrace about 1 kilometre to the south, where the pyramid of Ameny Qemau of the thirteenth dynasty was later constructed), the pre-existing service structures of the “abandoned” pyramid could have been readily reused. To conclude, although some Egyptologists have proposed the intermediate point of view that the Black Pyramid was finished as a cenotaph, I favour the idea that it was designed from the very beginning with this aim (Fakhry 1974). It is indeed easier to accept that the two projects – Hawara and Dahshur – were conceived of almost together and not with the second as a substitute for the first, because otherwise the total divergence in design between the internal apartments of the two pyramids would be inexplicable. In fact, the subterranean rooms in Dahshur are unique in design, while those in Hawara are similar to those, pre-existing, of Senwosret III in Dahshur and to those of the only other extant royal pyramid in the Fayoum area, that of Senwosret II – an interesting connection that we shall be exploring further. 7.5  Sentinels of power Having completed our survey of twelfth dynasty pyramids, let us now go back to the architect who was asked by Amenemhet II to design the king’s pyramid project in the old necropolis of Dahshur, which had lain virtually untouched for several centuries (Magli 2011a). From the technical point of view, the choice of constructing near the floodplain avoided unnecessary complications: stones were required only for foundations and casing blocks, so there was no need for extensive quarries, and mudbricks were probably plastered directly on site

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using Nile mould. But this is only part of the story, because there was a symbolic need as well: the necessity of keeping Maat (order) in the old revered necropolis and thus remaining faithful to the Snefru tradition. To fix the position of the king’s pyramid, the architects of Amenemhet II thus decided to place the monument into a perspective, visual relationship with the Red Pyramid, which stood in the background. The original idea might well have been to set the north side of the temenos (the wall encircling the sacred area) of the complex along the prolongation to the east of the line of the south base of the Red Pyramid. However, this intersects a dense area of pre-existing fourth dynasty tombs, so the wall was by necessity traced immediately to the south. The effect for people ascending to the front of the complex must anyway have been quite spectacular, a sort of merging visual effect between the newly built pyramid and the much taller (but distant in the desert) Red Pyramid of Snefru, thereby united in an evocative, symbolic affinity. The second pyramid constructed in Dahshur, that of Senwosret III, was planned to be built to the north of that of Amenemhet II. The project was interrelated with the Amenemhet II complex as per tradition; indeed a meridian axis ideally connects the two complexes running along the west side of the temenos wall of Senwosret III (Figure 7.3) and along the front (east) side of the temenos wall of Amenemhet II. However, a clear reference to the existing projects of Snefru was also intended. Indeed, as we have already seen, the causeway of the Bent Pyramid – the southernmost pyramid in Dahshur – is oriented in such a way that, for an observer looking along its length, the sun at the winter solstice is seen to disappear behind the massive bulk of the pyramid. The architects who designed the causeway of the Senwosret III complex  – the northernmost pyramid in Dahshur – chose to create a symmetrical configuration. Indeed the pyramid’s causeway is oriented at 298°, and therefore points to the setting sun at the summer solstice. Since the pyramid is slightly to the north of the junction between the causeway and the temple complex, the midsummer sun was seen to set framed between the south-west corner of the pyramid and the summit of the temenos wall. Further, the line symmetric to that of the causeway with respect to due west passes slightly to the south of the Red Pyramid. Therefore, the sun at the winter solstice was seen to set behind the south-east corner of the Red Pyramid, a thing which might have influenced the choice of Senwostret III’s building site to the north with respect to central Dahshur. The name of the pyramid

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7.3.  Schematic map of the Dahshur central field (north to the right, monuments in chronological order): (1) Bent Pyramid (a) and Red Pyramid (b) of Snefru; (2) Amenemhet II; (3) Senwosret III; (4) Amenemhet III. The east to west lines passing along the north side of the temenos wall of Amenemhet II and the south side of the Red Pyramid, and along the south side of the Amenemhet III pyramid and the north side of the Bent Pyramid, are highlighted. The meridian connecting the three Middle Kingdom pyramids, passing along the west side of the temenos wall of Senwosret III, the east side of the temenos wall of Amenemhet II, and the east side of the Amenemhet III pyramid, is also shown.

cited the Ba of the king, as did those of the middle fifth dynasty complexes, perhaps emphasising the solar connotations of the monument. Finally, when the architects of Amenemhet III embarked on the project of the king’s pyramid in Dahshur, they took into careful consideration the existing monuments in order to harmonise the new element into the pre-existing funerary landscape, as well as to maintain Maat. In fact: 1. The meridian from Senwosret III to Amenemhet II was taken into account, since if it is prolonged to the south it runs along the west side base of the Black Pyramid. (Later, the east wall of the thirteenth dynasty complex of Khendier in north Dahshur was also aligned to it.) 2. To fix the position of the monument along the meridian mentioned earlier, the project took note of the position of the Bent Pyramid to the west, and the pyramid was planned in order to create a perspective effect between the new one and the old one, almost specular to that connecting the Amenemhet II pyramid with the Red Pyramid. In fact, the south side of the Black Pyramid is aligned with the prolongation to the east of the north side of the Bent Pyramid.

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3. The pyramidion of the Black Pyramid (recovered at the beginning of the 1900s and currently in the Cairo Museum) has the same slope as the lower section of its giant “counterpart”, the Bent Pyramid. 4. A final clue to the harmonisation of the king’s project with pre-existing ones is in the choice of the direction of the causeway, which runs due east. If we analyse the causeways at Dahshur from south to north, we see that their orientations adhere to the following order: winter solstice sunset (Bent Pyramid), due east (Amenemhet III, Amenemhet II and – probably – the unexcavated Red Pyramid’s causeway), summer solstice sunset (Senwosret III). The ideal resemblance of the twelfth dynasty sacred space in Dahshur to that of Snefru in the same place can therefore be said to have been completed with the Amenemhet III project. To have a complete picture, we can try to imagine what the necropolis of Dahshur looked like after the Middle Kingdom additions. The landscape in the direction of the Nile was quite different from today. The Dahshur lake extended to the south, in front of the desert ridge and a (recently recovered) quay located in the wadi to the east of the valley temple of the Bent Pyramid (Stadelmann and Alexanian 1998; Alexanian et al. 2010) (Photo 7.4). People sailing on the lake would perceive a stunning effect of perspective, with the two magnificent monuments of Snefru in the background and their brand new companions, those of Amenemhet II and Amenemhet III, in the foreground. Aligned with these, to the north, the imposing pyramid-cenotaph of Senwosret III towered above the whole area. We move now to the Fayoum area to investigate whether topographical cognitive factors can help to explain the choice of the building sites at Lahun and Hawara. Amenemhet III’s choice of the Fayoum area is usually justified, as it was for Senwosret II, by the “interest” shown by the king in the oasis, where he also built a temple – and two huge quartzite colossi, according to Petrie, who discovered pieces of them. But the Fayoum is vast and totally surrounded by desert, and the reasons for choosing remote, outlying Hawara remain enigmatic. Nobody has really made the effort to solve this puzzle. For instance, Verner (2002a) says that the place is “not far from Senwosret II pyramid in Lahun”, but the two sites are 8.7 kilometres apart, and this is hardly adjacent in terms of building sites. At Lahun there was plenty of space to build a new pyramid, in the pre-existing

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Photo 7.4  Dahshur. The pyramid of Amenemhet III seen from the valley temple of the Bent Pyramid.

necropolis of a highly respected and revered predecessor. Furthermore, there was all the infrastructure required for pyramid construction: accessibility of materials, and a huge pyramid town which remained active long after the reign of Senwosret II. So, once the Fayoum area had been chosen, why did Amenemhet III move from El-Lahun to the relatively remote site of Hawara? A possible answer to this topographical enigma is once again offered by an analysis of the relationship between the twelfth dynasty projects and those of Snefru, this time that of Meidum-Seila (Magli 2011a). As we know from Chapter 3, Snefru built Meidum and Seila as paired, inter-visible monuments designed mainly to communicate a message of power. The two pyramids of El-Lahun and Hawara are also inter-visible. Today it is much easier to view the giant mass of El-Lahun from Hawara than vice versa,2 but in ancient times the two monuments “spoke” very clearly with each other. They actually stand like twin sentinels, occupying the two corner ends of the strip of desert which is the prolongation to the south of the pyramid field’s ridge, not unlike the way Meidum and Seila stand at two sides of the same strip farther north. Interestingly, Seila is inter-visible with Hawara, with an azimuth around 50°30'. This was noticed by Petrie (1891), who was led by this connection to attribute Seila to the same builders. Indeed, he wrote that Seila “is a landmark of

Renaissance at the winter solstice

all this part of the country; and can be seen from Hawara, as a white heap on the hill top … [it] is probably a building of the twelfth dynasty.” A reference to the old Snefru project, together with the idea of completing an ordered landscape of power also at the Fayoum, may thus have been the main motivation for choosing Hawara (Figure 3.1). If the principle of “completing the projects to resemble the past” helps to explain the choices of Amenemhet III, a thorny issue still rankles: to explain satisfactorily the choices of Senwosret II. He decided to deviate from the building site inaugurated by his dynasty, Lisht, and from the traditional site revived by his father, Dahshur; moreover, he broke the tradition of an orientation to the north of the entrance to the pyramid and planned a new “winding” arrangement of the interior chambers. Both successors to this king were to have two tombs: Senwosret III had a pyramid tomb in the north at Dahshur but was probably buried in the southern one (at Abydos), and likewise Amenemhet III had a pyramid in the north at Dahshur but was probably buried in the south (at Hawara). Had this tradition also already been established by Senwosret II? Judging by the similarities between the internal arrangements of El-Lahun and Hawara, which prompts the thought that they are both “tombs to the south”, one is led to speculate that perhaps Senwosret II might also have had a cenotaph “to the north”, of which we are unaware. If this is true, then perhaps a part of the previous traditions  – with regard to building site and/or orientation – were preserved by the king in his alternative monument. This possibility has already been explored, owing to the unusual structure of a tomb (Petrie’s Tomb 621), located to the north of the El-Lahun pyramid (Arnold 2003). This tomb – whose owner is unknown – boasts many of the features of a royal tomb; no burial remains have, however, been found in it, so it may actually be a cenotaph of the king. Being “still” oriented to the north, it might even be the “missing link” between the Amenemhet II and the Senwosret II pyramids. To this possibility I would add yet another one: that the cenotaph of Senwosret II could be the first one to be located in central Dahshur, where the scant remains of one as yet unattributed Middle Kingdom pyramid have been documented (Lepsius 55; its remains were apparently severely damaged as a result of the construction of a pipeline). It may be, after all, that it was not by chance that the king’s pyramid at Lahun was called, exactly like the two belonging to Snefru in Dahshur, Senwosret is rising.

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8 A valley for the kings

8.1  A new renaissance The Middle Kingdom ended along with the twelfth dynasty. Under the thirteenth dynasty, the country began to split up again into two lands, with the foreign Hyksos taking gradual control of Lower Egypt. The process leading to a second reunification was launched by the Theban rulers of the seventeenth dynasty and can be said to have been completed with the reign of Ahmose (1550–1525 BC), the founder of the eighteenth dynasty (Shaw 2000). The transformation initiated in the Middle Kingdom, when the twelfth dynasty kings had favoured Amun as the main deity, was concluded, so that Thebes became the main religious and power centre of the whole country and Karnak the most important temple in Egypt. The Theban rulers before Ahmose were buried in tombs excavated along the slopes at Dra Abu el Naga, a series of low cliffs to the north-west of the Deir el Bahri bay. Their tombs were arranged one after the other, respecting a south-of-west progression (Winlock 1924). Ahmose, on the other hand, evidently wished to give a strong signal of the return to an ancient tradition, for he constructed a majestic funerary monument at Abydos (Harvey 1994, 1998). The complex is close to that of Senwosret III and parallel to its axis (Figure 1.2). It included a pyramid which is currently in very poor condition but which must have been a reasonably distinctive and striking monument on the Abydos landscape. At present, no subterranean structure has been identified in it. However, on the axis with the pyramid towards the cliffs lies a rock-cut underground complex, surmounted by a terraced temple, built up against the mountain. The complex bears a resemblance to Senwosret III’s tomb nearby but, as with

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the latter, it is not known for certain whether it was a cenotaph or if the king was interred there. His mummy has actually been recovered, in the so-called Deir el Bahri cache, a tomb in western Thebes which was used by twenty-first dynasty priests, alarmed by plundering of ancient burial sites, to store dozens of royal mummies which had been gathered from their original sepulchres. So there exists the possibility that the king had a Theban tomb, though it has never been found. The pyramid of Ahmose is the last royal pyramid to be constructed in Egypt. Immediately thereafter, a clever new way of concentrating almost all the symbols and the icons associated with the afterlife – including the pyramidal shape – into an extremely restricted space was invented. The king responsible was probably Ahmose’s successor, Amenhotep I. His reign was relatively peaceful: the king devoted himself to the organisation of the state and instituted several important traditions which would be followed by almost all his successors. First of all, he wished to leave tangible traces of his reign at the temple of Karnak, where he ordered the construction of a huge limestone gateway. Second, he was the first king to inaugurate the tradition of constructing memorial temples in western Thebes. These temples, which were to acquire enormous importance with later kings, are usually called “funerary”. They were indeed devoted to the cult of the deceased king, but with the addition of a rather complex series of implications which we shall be exploring later. Finally, as mentioned, Amenhotep I was probably the founder of a new royal necropolis, in the wadi today known as the Valley of the Kings (Figure 8.1).1 The main hint that Amenhotep I was the founder is that he was granted the honour of being declared patron god of the necropolis, along with his mother, Ahmose Nefretiri. They were worshipped in specially built temples at Deir el Medina, the town where the workmen of the valley lived. The question would, of course, be settled if it could be shown that Amenothep I was buried in the valley, but this has not yet been possible. The burial of the king is mentioned in an official document of inspection of the royal tombs drawn up during the twentieth dynasty, the Abbott Papyrus, where the inspectors’ itinerary is described in some detail. The document is difficult to interpret, though, because it mentions in passing two buildings by Amenhotep I, presumably temples, whose locations are uncertain (one of them is perhaps the one documented by Howard Carter at Deir el Bahri, now lost). The text does show that the king was

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8.1.  Map of western Thebes. The royal funerary temples are numbered in chronological order, while capital letters denote geographical areas: (A) Dra Abu el Naga; (B) Valley of the Kings; (C) el Qurn; (D) Deir el Medina; (E) Birket Abu; (1) Hatshepsut; (2) Thutmose III; (3) Amenhotep II; (4) Thutmose IV; (5) Amenhotep III; (6) Ay-Horemheb; (7) Seti I; (8) Ramesses II; (9) Merenptah; (10) Siptah-Tawosre; (11) Ramesses III.

buried in western Thebes, but from an archaeological point of view, we have not one but two likely candidates for his tomb, of which only one is in the Valley of the Kings. The tombs there are labelled by the letters KV followed by a number, and the one in question is KV39, located on the very edge of the valley, some 200 metres south of the later Thutmose III tomb, very close to the path ascending from the labourers’ village and thus in a perfectly natural position to be “the first tomb built”. However, a recent re-excavation has failed to come up with any definitive proof for Amenhotep I, and many Egyptologists believe that the king’s tomb is, rather, that labelled AN-B, located on the high cliffs over Dra Abu el Naga, based on the evidence of numerous fragments inscribed with the name of the king and his mother found there (see a complete discussion in Reeves and Wilkinson 1996, and references therein). From the topographical point of view, it should be observed that AN-B is located in a dominant position in relation to the royal tombs of the seventeenth dynasty, which spread from north to south on the low slopes below.

A valley for the kings

Photo 8.1.  Western Thebes. The Valley of the Kings, with the modern access corridors to the tombs. The peak of el Qurn is visible to the left.

It is a fairly unusual topographical relationship for a royal tomb when compared to previous ones, especially considering that the latter follow a south-of-west progression. On the other hand, KV39 is actually to the south-west – although in a completely different place – of all these tombs.2 8.2  A valley for the kings So much for Amenhotep I’s tomb. From the time of his successor, Thutmose I (1504–1492 BC), the rulers of the New Kingdom were buried in the Valley of the Kings (Reeves and Wilkinson 1996; see, however, Romer 1975). The valley (Photo 8.1) is today approached from a route to the west, but in ancient times this path was blocked – more or less near today’s ticket office – by a natural rock wall 5 metres high, removed only in modern times. Access from there was possible, but people were forced to climb the wall through an opening in the rocks. The valley was thus mainly entered by tracks over cliffs, one starting at Deir el Bahri, the other, smoother and perhaps used for the last part of the funeral of the king after the rites in the funerary temple, crossing the hill from Deir el Medina (Romer 1981; Hornung 1990).

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The choice of the valley for the royal necropolis was in all probability influenced by symbolic criteria. First of all, as has been repeatedly observed in the literature, its position behind the cliffs at the western horizon as seen from Thebes assimilated the king’s death and rebirth with the solar cycle. In fact, such a statement can be validated further, in a quantitative sense, if one notes that the axis of the Karnak temple of Amun – by far the most important religious centre in Egypt during the New Kingdom – passes along the northern rim of the Deir el Bahri bay. The Karnak temple axis, as we have seen, is oriented to the winter solstice sunrise to the south-east but opens towards the opposite orientation (which would be to the summer solstice sunset with a flat horizon) and therefore specifically towards the hills which guard the entrance to the valley. Thus, although the last rays of the sun do not penetrate the temple, the summer solstice sunset observed from Karnak is still very striking if the observer is aware  – as the ancient Egyptians naturally were  – of what is concealed behind the hills.3 Other symbolism implicit in the choice of the valley is connected with the prominent peak of el Qurn. This peak’s resemblance to a pyramid is obvious from any side but becomes quite extraordinary when the mountain is seen from the east, to the extent that one might suspect that the natural pyramidal shape was deliberately adapted by sculpting on that side. The peak itself, however, was not used for carving out the tombs, nor are the orientations of tombs and temples aimed towards it. The function of this peak is, accordingly, not directly connected with the funerary cult. We might consider it instead as a familiar, widely recognised marker of the presence of the royal burials. As far as the interior of the tombs is concerned, they contain a renowned collection of magnificent decorations, and, in particular, of scenes extracted from funerary texts, which in the New Kingdom become a sort of illustrated map to the netherworld. The form of art is pictographic: vignettes accompanied by explanatory texts. The oldest is the Amduat, which we have already discussed. The most spectacular version of the Amduat is certainly that visible in the burial chamber of the tomb of Thutmose III, KV34. The decorations here are drawn in such a way as to give the impression of a huge papyrus unrolled and used to upholster the walls; the chamber itself is of oval shape, not unlike a king’s car­ touche. Generally speaking, the interior of the royal tombs does not follow a rigid pattern. Their topography can, however, be subdivided into

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three successive stages, roughly corresponding to dynasties eighteen, nineteen and twenty: early tombs with curved axes; intermediate tombs where the entrance corridors curve abruptly to one side at a pillared hall about halfway into the tomb; and later tombs with straight axes. It is usually claimed that subsequent sections were symbolically linked to the nocturnal journey of the sun, so that the interior of the tomb mimics the topography of the beyond. The true significance of some elements remains elusive, however; for instance, was the impressively deep well, excavated in a special room on the corridor from the reign of Tuthmosis III onwards, a functional element to stop rainwater from collecting and robbers intruding, a symbolic element, or both? Another point deserving our attention is of course orientation, both practical and symbolic. The importance of astronomy in the management of religion and power at that time is clearly alluded to in the depiction of astronomical texts on the walls of the tombs, starting from the nineteenth dynasty. These texts include star clocks and the “astronomical ceilings”, representing an image of the sky as the Egyptians were accustomed to seeing it – that is, of the Egyptian constellations (see Section 2.2 of Box 2). In spite of this, it is difficult to individuate a role for astronomy in the planning of the tombs. The access corridors face the interior of the wadi so their horizon is usually high. Analysing the corresponding declinations, it turns out that during the eighteenth dynasty the vast majority of the tombs were in the solar range, with declinations between −24º and +24º, with three exceptions looking towards Thoth Hill to the north (García, Belmonte and Shaltout 2009). The sun in the (open) tombs could thus shine up to the shaft room. I do not think, though, that any particular symbolism can be attached to this pattern: the tombs were meant to be closed and probably also concealed from view. Besides, when the tombs were later to acquire a straighter axis, there is a lack of any recognisable orientation pattern. An exception is perhaps that of three tombs oriented close to due west. This orientation might be symbolic since these are Hatshepsut’s (KV20), Amenhotep III’s (WV22) and tomb KV55, which is a burial place for members of the Amarna royal family (possibly also for the reburial of Akhenaten), hence those very three Pharaohs who, as we shall see, had, for different reasons, a “special affinity” with the sun god. A further issue is the presence of purely symbolic references in the interior of the tombs; for instance, symbolism connected with the sun’s

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positions may be perceived in eighteenth dynasty tombs, due to different colours being adopted for sun symbols in various places inside (Wilkinson 1994b). Generally speaking, however, royal tombs are flat, linear, “two-dimensional” affairs, corresponding exactly to how the netherworld is represented in the vignettes of the funerary texts, without any attempt at perspective. A notable exception, which actually shows efforts being made to achieve perspective in the pictography of the afterworld (for example, in the Ani Papyrus, Folio 33; see Faulkner 1994), is related to a process of “cosmisation” of the burial, which occurred quite analogously in many other cultures (Krupp 1997; Ruggles 2005; Magli 2009a). This process consisted of marking with special protectors the four walls (ideally, the four cardinal points), so that the tomb – on the basis of the process of “the founding of the human space” we described in Chapter 1  – became the centre of the world, the place where main directions cross each other. In Japan, for example, some excavated funerary chambers of the so-called Kofuns (burial tumuli constructed between the third and the seventh centuries AD) contain images, painted on the walls, of four animals also symbolising the four cardinal points and the four seasons: the Azure Dragon of the East (spring), the Red Bird of the South (summer), the White Tiger of the West (fall) and the Black Turtle of the North (winter). A starry ceiling completes the decoration. In Egypt, the “cosmisation” of the funerary chambers begins at Abydos, with inter-cardinal orientation, and continues with the rigorous orientation of the pyramids to the cardinal points and the distribution of the Pyramid Texts on different walls and chambers. In the Middle Kingdom, coffins are “oriented”: their eastern part is the long side, identified on -udjat, symbolically looking at sunthe exterior by the double eye rise and rebirth; consequently, the whole coffin is oriented as well, and the inscription on the exterior runs accordingly “from north to south”. In the New Kingdom, the tradition of the so-called magic bricks was established (see, for example, Silverman 1996; Taylor 1999). These were bricks inscribed with spells against the enemies of Osiris, one for each of the four walls and, symbolically, for each cardinal point. In many cases, the bricks had sockets into which an amulet could be inserted, facing the relevant wall. The amulets were a Djed pillar for the west, Anubis for the east, a shabti (a mummy-form figure of the deceased which can be magically activated) for the north, and a torch for the south. Each brick was inscribed with passages from Spell 151 of the funerary text called

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The Book of the Dead, where four “genies” (the “four sons of Horus”) are invoked for protection. They are: Amseti with human head, Hapy with baboon head, Kamutef with jackal head, and, finally, the falcon-headed Qebehsenuef. Their role was also associated with the protection of the viscera (liver, lungs, spleen, intestines) of the deceased, contained in canopic jars. The choice of the number four for the canopic jars is therefore also symbolic, as there are of course many other items of viscera which were not extracted, or were extracted but not conserved. 8.3  The Hatshepsut projects On the death of Amenhotep I, his son Thutmose I ascended to the throne, to be succeeded in turn by his son Thutmose II. Thutmose II died shortly after marrying his half-sister Hatshepsut. He left a young boy (fathered with another wife), Thutmose III, as heir to the throne, but Hatshepsut became regent. At any rate, she managed to proclaim herself Pharaoh and ruled for about 20 years before leaving the throne to the legitimate heir (probably on her death). To legitimise her own rights to the monarchy, Hatshepsut claimed direct descent from Amun-Ra. To validate this ideology, she started an ambitious building program on both the Theban banks of the river, establishing a series of ideological patterns and ideas which would be widely followed in later years. The masterpiece of her building programme is the funerary temple called Djeser-djeseru, the “most holy place” (Photo 8.2). The temple was designed as a sort of artificial extension of the cliffs of the Deir el Bahri bay, and is thus superbly integrated with the natural landscape. It consists of three court terraces separated by front colonnades and linked by ascending ramps, with dimensions deftly calculated to create stunning theatrical effects. The upper terrace had an entrance portico adorned with images of the queen in Osiris form, guarding the final sanctuary, a rock-carved chapel of Amun. (The tomb of the Pharaoh Queen in the Valley of the Kings is located roughly in correspondence with the temple axis on the opposite side of the cliff.) The architect responsible for the temple was Senenmut, a fairly important figure who also had an (unfinished) tomb excavated for himself in the flank of the temple hill.4 Hatshepsut’s architecture as executed by Senenmut on both banks of the Nile stresses the importance of the sun. The funerary temple is oriented to the winter solstice sunrise; today a wall prevents the rising

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Photo 8.2.  Western Thebes. The terraces of the Hatshepsut temple at Deir el Bahri.

sun from filtering up to the final sanctuary, but this phenomenon probably occurred in ancient times. The same orientation was emphasised by Hatshepsut in her additions to Karnak. Indeed, although the axis of the Karnak temple had been oriented to the winter solstice sunrise since the Middle Kingdom, the main front of the temple was facing west. Hatshepsut chose to add a structure that was open to the south-east, dedicated to Amun-Ra who hears the prayers. The building was aligned on the same axis as the pre-existing temple but was explicitly linked to the sunrise, and a group of seated statues representing Hatshepsut and Amun-Ra was the first element to be illuminated by the rising sun in the days around the solstice, creating a spectacular hierophany (Hawkins 1974; Krupp 1988). Hatshepsut’s need to evince a direct connection with the sun in order to legitimise her reign is made clear also by other elements of her building activities. Included in her plan was, for instance, the erection of two obelisks along the Karnak axis  – today no longer standing  – dedicated to marking the places “where my father rises”. As part of the ideological propaganda aimed at validating her reign, it also appears that Hatshepsut was the first Pharaoh to promote the worship of a “Theban triad” of gods,

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formed by Amun, Mut and Khonsu. Mut was an ancient Theban goddess associated with creation. As Thebes grew in importance, she was identified with the wife of Amun and mother of their son Khonsu, who in turn gradually replaced the other ancient Theban god, Montu. At Karnak, Khonsu was worshipped in a temple located to the south of the main building, while his mother had a specially built precinct to the south-east. A visit to the Mut precinct is a unique experience for two reasons. First, the area is filled with hundreds of basalt statues of the goddess in her lion-headed form, the warrior goddess Sekhmet, whose carving is apparently due to Amenhotep III (but some think that the original project was also Hatshepsut’s). Second, the temple is unique in being surrounded on three sides by a sacred lake shaped like a lunar crescent. Various interpretations have been put forward for this; some think that the lake was meant to constrain the potentially dangerous leonine goddess, others that the lake is an allusion to her son Khonsu, who was associated with the moon and depicted as a falcon wearing a crescent and moon disk on his head. No orientation to the moon can, however, be recognised there. To the immediate south of the temple, excavations are gradually bringing to light a straight avenue flanked by hundreds of sphinxes. The sphinxes are a relatively recent addition (fourth century BC), but the avenue is much older and can probably be ascribed to Hatshepsut as well. It leads to the most important temple after – or perhaps even on a par with – Karnak: Luxor. 8.4  The sanctuary of the south The so-called temple of Luxor is located along the Nile some 3.5 kilometres to the south-west of Karnak (Figure 8.2). Known in ancient times as the “sanctuary of the south”, it was principally dedicated to Amun, worshipped here as a fertility and creator god, Amenemopet (Bell 1997). There is a suspicion that the foundation of this temple dates to the Middle Kingdom, but conclusive proof has never emerged, as the earliest reference so far comes from an inscription, discovered in a quarry near Memphis, dating from year 22 of the reign of Ahmose. The earliest architectural evidence, on the other hand, comes from Hatshepsut’s reign, although most of her buildings were subsequently destroyed and the magnificent temple we can see today is mostly the work of Amenhotep III and Ramesses II (Badawy 1968).

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8.2.  Plan of the Karnak and Luxor temples, connected by the Alley of the Sphinxes. Notice that the Karnak axis goes perfectly straight, while the Luxor axis bends several times.

Amenhotep III’s buildings at Luxor were planned in two different stages. In the first stage, the intricate, secluded multiroom complex which stands today at the very end of the temple was erected (perhaps on a small “primeval” hill, although many Egyptian temples – for instance Medinet Habu – claimed such an honour); later a huge open court with a magnificent access colonnade (completed by Tutankhamun after the Amarna period) was added. Later on, major additions were made by Ramesses II, which consisted of an entrance pylon (Photo 8.3) with a pair of huge obelisks in front of it and a large pillared court. Inside this court, to the right of the entrance, a triple shrine can be seen. The

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Photo 8.3.  Luxor. The Ramesses II pylon of the temple seen from the final section of the Alley of the Sphinxes. The displacement of the axis of the first court with respect to the front can be perceived.

structure  – which replaces the last “way station” previously built by Hatshepsut  – was used for housing the barks of the statues of Amun, Mut and Khonsu of Karnak. Luxor and Karnak were in fact closely connected. Every year, the statues of the Theban triad visited Luxor in a procession known as The Beautiful Festival of the Opet (Cabrol 2001). This festival, together with the “Beautiful Feast of the Valley”, which we shall encounter later, and the feast of Osiris, was the most important of several held yearly in honour of the gods in ancient Egypt. It commenced with the Karnak statues being loaded onto ceremonial barks under which long stakes were inserted. Baldachins were then carried on the shoulders of the priests; the religious procession moved towards Luxor along the avenue mentioned earlier. Today this avenue is lined by the hundreds of Sphinxes added subsequently by Nectanebo II, but Hatshepsut had already equipped it with six “bark stations”. At each station, the cortège stopped and the priests performed ceremonies.5 Renewal was the focus of this feast, and countless offerings of flowers, symbols of renewal, were brought to the temples. The idea of the renovation of power – both divine and royal – is certainly not new, as it can be traced back to the Early Dynastic period and the Sed festivals. The New Kingdom kings also celebrated Sed festivals, but the yearly feast of the

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Opet fulfilled a different function, connected to the relationship of the common people with the divine. Public access to temples was in fact forbidden, so the idea of circulating the god’s statues back and forth met the need to have contact, however detached and perfunctory, with the gods. The Pharaoh, in accordance with his divine nature, had of course a key role, for the festival was connected with the renewal of the Ka of the king and – by extension – to that of all people. The Pharaoh himself made a sort of reappearance, having changed his clothes, after the entrance of the procession into the recessed part of the Luxor temple. The secluded rites included a repetition of the coronation, with the king receiving the two crowns in front of the god’s image and presenting special offerings. Was the “sanctuary of the south” – and the explicit manifestation of the Pharaoh’s power associated with it – tied up with astronomy? And if so, in what way? Contrary to what transpired at Karnak in the course of more than one millennium, where subsequent additions did not alter the axis’ direction towards the rising sun at the winter solstice, at Luxor at each enlargement a bend of the axis was effected. The bends are initially almost imperceptible: the inner court has an azimuth ~34°, which changes to 35½° for Tutankhamun’s court. Then, however, the turn to the west becomes clearly perceptible with the Ramesses II addition, though the court and the pylon of this king are not aligned with each other, bearing azimuths 42½° and 39½°, respectively. The presence of these bends makes a visit to the temple a strange experience: at the entrance, the line of sight along the open hall is perceived at an angle in relation to the front pylon, and the linear perspective of the colonnade on the opposite end does not reveal the presence of the vast inner court which follows (Photo 8.3). The riddle of the Luxor bent axis has been the subject of several unsuccessful attempts at explanation, including an astronomical one. In particular, in the nineteenth century, Egyptian chronology was very different from today and had (wrongly) been shifted backwards by many centuries. Using this chronology, Lockyer (1894) associated the changes of the axes with the precessional drift of the rising point of the bright star Vega. However, this solution cannot be reconciled with the currently accepted chronology. The changes in the axes thus remain unexplained, as they were not necessary to keep the building parallel to the Nile – which has not altered its course much since then, as the ancient quay connected with the temple clearly shows. To find the most plausible

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reason for the deviation of the Ramesses II addition, we must first analyse the Karnak to Luxor avenue. Unlike what happened with the Luxor temple proper, important astronomical events took place at the time of construction at both ends of this avenue. The pathway proceeds very straight along its 2 kilometre course, and its azimuth from Luxor to Karnak can be estimated quite precisely to be 45° (data from the author) (Figure 8.2). Clearly, this choice is hardly random, as it is the inter-cardinal orientation we have already encountered many times; furthermore, it was not constrained by local topography. We already know that this direction is out of the solar and lunar range, and that it generally corresponded to the Milky Way. Actually, if we take Hatshepsut’s accession as a reference point (say around 1470 BC), then we can see that the region of azimuths close to 45° was particularly crowded by the rising of bright stars: the “northern branch” of the Milky Way with Cygnus, but also Arcturus and Vega. Equally luminous was the horizon at the opposite end (azimuth 225°), where the brightest part of the Milky Way – and, in particular, the Southern Cross  – sat in alignment with the avenue in the direction of Luxor (Tables A.1 and A.2). The two centuries or so separating Hatshepsut from Ramesses II were not sufficient for precession to destroy these phenomena, so that 200 years later the spectacle was still quite effective, and Ramesses II provided an artificial horizon for it with the erection of the external pylon and the two obelisks at the end of the avenue. But the large (7°) bend of the Ramesses court also had another aim. In fact, the project was designed in such a way that Luxor became a sort of double-faced temple, since a visual axis connects the chapels of the bark stations with the inner sanctuary (Photo 8.4). In this way, when occupied by the statues, the chapels played the role of alternate inner sanctuaries located at the opposite end. We might say, then, that the symbolic relationship between Karnak, the main “house” of Amun who hears the prayers, and Luxor, the main “house” of Amun as a creator (or re-creator) god, responsible for renovating the Ka of the Pharaoh, was heightened by a series of references to Egyptian conceptions of the sacred space which would have been quite familiar. Basing on the astronomical and topographical observations presented earlier, I think that the “sanctuary of the south”  – where the power of the gods was “re-enhanced” and, in a sense, resuscitated – can be seen as a sort of gigantic Serdab, and in fact the ceremonies held in

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Photo 8.4.  Luxor. The axis of the Amenhotep III colonnade of the Luxor temple viewed from the back end.

the most secret part of the temple (the so-called Opet temple, located to the back of the main building) probably included the Opening of the Mouth performed by the Pharaoh on the statue of Amun of Luxor, Amenemopet. The Luxor temple is actually to the south-west of Karnak and connected to it by the alley oriented precisely along the inter-cardinal direction. It is therefore in a position which is also the “classic”, almost mandatory position for the tomb of the successor to a revered king. In this case, however, the successor is no one but the “renewed” Pharaoh who, as well as a rejuvenated Amun god, succeeds himself. An aura of mystery surrounds the temple of Luxor even today, as countless publications have tried to assign to it a hidden, esoteric meaning (see e.g. Schwaller de Lubicz 1998). Indeed we do not know the details of the ceremonies that took place there, nor can we imagine the feelings of the devout people who left inscribed votive shards along the route of the statues’ procession and saw in the solemn march of the gods the reassuring regularity of the life cycle. After the entrance of the statues into the recesses of the temple, the common people waited for the king to report on the success of those ceremonies, and in this sense the secret

A valley for the kings

of the temple really had been kept. Nonetheless, we can see once again that ancient Egyptian architecture and symbolism is far from being hidden or esoteric. So although the fine details of the theological framework were perhaps only vouchsafed to the elite, the feeling of the sacred space, and the way in which buildings were oriented and ceremonial acts were engineered in order to maintain Maat on the land of the two lands, was also here apparent – familiar – to everyone. 8.5  My face is yours On Hatshepsut’s death, the legitimate heir Thutmose III ascended to the throne, and the memory of the Pharaoh Queen swiftly began to fade. Thutmose, in fact, launched a wide-ranging programme aimed at dwarfing the achievements of his predecessor, to the extent, later in his reign, of even obliterating her name from many monuments. The king also added a small temple up against that of the queen at Deir el Bahri, probably with the objective of replacing it as receiver of the statues of the Karnak gods during the “Festival of the Valley” (Chapter 10). The king’s intentions are particularly clear precisely at Karnak, where – among other building projects – he ordered the erection of enormous obelisks (one can be found today in Piazza San Giovanni in Laterano in Rome) aimed at outdoing Hatshepsut’s efforts. To the south-east end of the temple axis, the king also ordered the construction of a somewhat unusual structure, the Akhmenu. The Akhmenu was a large, rectangular temple intended to celebrate the king’s ancestors and military campaigns; the roof was supported by two rows of columns shaped like the poles of a portable tent. From the architectural point of view, the transverse position of the longest side of the Akhmenu in relation to the Karnak temple axis (Photo 8.5) clearly shows the intent of obstructing the view of Hatshepsut’s buildings along the direction of “her father” rising into the south-east. Veneration of the rising sun at the winter solstice was, however, reaffirmed also in the Akhmenu. In fact, a stairway from the north-east corner of the pillared hall leads up to a room (“high room of the sun”, as Gerald Hawkings called it), which is clearly a solar shrine. This elevated building is provided with a window opening to the south-east and a huge altar in the form of four-hetep signs not unlike that of the Niuserra sun temple at Abu Gorab, built about a millennium earlier.

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Photo 8.5.  Karnak. The temple axis at sunset.

Successors to Thutmose III were Amenhotep II and his son Thutmose IV. With these two kings, we see a renewed focus on Giza that is somewhat difficult to account for. No traces of cult activities pertaining to the Middle Kingdom have in fact been recovered there, the only fact worthy of note being the presence of stone reliefs which came from Giza pyramid complexes reused in the pyramids of Lisht. Some evidence of activity can be found at the beginning of the New Kingdom, but it is usually attributed to the fact that the area of Giza was used as a hunting reserve (Hassan 1953). The Pharaoh who really turned the situation around was Amenhotep II, who ordered the construction of a new temple there after more than one thousand years. This temple (perhaps built on an earlier Thutmose I chapel) is the small building which is visible directly above the north side of the Sphinx pit. The building houses a huge stela, dedicated by the king to the god Hor-em-akhet, meaning “Horus in the horizon”. The temple is obviously oriented to directly face the Sphinx from the front and Khufu’s pyramid from the rear, and there can scarcely be any doubt that it is dedicated to the Sphinx herself, so in a sense it is incorrect to call it a “temple” since the god’s statue is definitively not inside it. On the other hand, there is some ambiguity as to

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Photo 8.6.  Giza. The sun sets behind the Sphinx, with the two main pyramids forming a giant Akhet sign, as seen from the Sphinx terrace on a summer evening. The Sphinx really becomes “Horus in the horizon” in these moments.

the interpretation of the god “Horus in the horizon” identified with the statue (Wilkinson 1994a). It is usually believed that the original meaning of the Sphinx was lost at that time and that the similarity – about which we know a considerable amount – between the setting sun between the two pyramids and the hieroglyph Akhet (with the Sphinx perched in the middle) had perhaps been “noticed” or “picked up” (Photo 8.6). I have always been loath to accept this interpretation, as it smacks too much of a sort of fetishistic worship of a statue, which appears quite antithetical to the Egyptian mentality. So, I tend to think that the Akhet in question here – where the “Horus” is in – is nothing but Khufu’s. Unfortunately, it is impossible to ascertain whether the denomination “Horus in the Horizon” for the Sphinx can be traced back to the Old Kingdom; in turn, the name of the Great Pyramid, the Horizon of Khufu, was known in the New Kingdom, but perhaps referred to the whole Giza necropolis. As it happens, however, Amenhotep II is also credited with the revival of the cult of Khnum, the god protector of Khufu, since he decreed the erection of a pair of obelisks devoted “to his father”, Khnum-Ra, at the

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main temple of this god in Elephantine (one of the two obelisks is today at the University of Durham). Another point that is difficult to clarify is the reason behind the decision by Amenhotep II to build this temple. This decision is probably connected with the famous “dream stela” which was erected by his son Thutmose IV between the paws of the Sphinx. The inscription on the stela recounts that, when the king was still a young prince, he fell asleep in the shadow of the statue at midday. In a dream, Hor-em-akhet prophesied that he would gain the future kingship. The god, however, requested that his precinct be cleared up and restored. Although the stela bears the date of year 1 of Thutmose IV, it is hard to believe that Amenhotep II erected the temple without clearing the pit, so perhaps the works were really carried out by the prince on his father’s behalf. If this was the case, the initial repairs in the masonry of the Sphinx body should also have been executed, although the megalithic temple in front of the Sphinx was left completely forgotten and buried in the sand. Clearly, the restoration of the Sphinx suited the propaganda aims of Thutmose IV. Accordingly, one might suspect that the restoration made by the king involved not only the body but also the face. As we have seen in Chapter 3, the question “who is the Sphinx?” is highly debated, and I have already agreed with Stadelmann’s (1985) identification of the statue with Khufu as being the most likely. However, there is a passage of the prophecy of the Dream Stela where the Sphinx says (Breasted 1906): “My face is yours, my desire is toward you. You shall be to me a protector.” The wording “my face is yours” is usually interpreted as “my face is towards you”, but I would suggest that the hypothesis of a resculpting of the head by an artist serving Thutmose IV is a possibility which might just be worth exploring further.

9 The Horizon of the Aten

9.1  The dazzling sun disk On the death of his father, Thutmose IV, Amenhotep III inherited  – probably when still a child – a prosperous and stable kingdom that he was to rule for almost 40 years (1391–1353 BC). His reign can be divided into two quite distinct parts (Kozloff and Bryan 1992; O’Connor and Cline 2001). In the first part, the king appears as a “standard” monarch of his dynasty: he attends to some military problems in Nubia, increases international diplomacy and commerce, and devotes huge effort to leaving tangible traces of his passage at Karnak, Luxor and many other places scattered throughout the country. His regnal years appear to flow quite peacefully up to year 30, when he celebrates his first Sed festival. Then, something happens. He begins to “feel like a new man”, or rather, being a Pharaoh, a new god. In a recently discovered quartzite statue, the king is shown with a youthful appearance, in spite of the fact that the statue was probably executed late in his reign. The reliefs relating to the festival show the king in the semblance of Ra, on a solar boat. What is happening, though strange, is clear: the living king is identifying himself with the sun god during his own lifetime. This is quite a heretical idea, perhaps only attempted by Khufu before. According to the prevailing theology, the king certainly voyaged in order to be at one with the sun god, but only after death. This identification campaign proceeds rapidly. The king starts to define himself as “the dazzling sun disk”. Somehow, the unification also encompasses other gods, the king being depicted with attributes of Amun or Thoth; hundreds of statues of different gods are made and housed in the king’s temple, perhaps acknowledging him as a creator of

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gods. Other Sed festivals are celebrated in years 34 and 37. The festivals take place at the strange complex that the king created for himself in the area today called Malkata. The complex, a sort of symbolic new capital constructed on the Theban west bank (which was, of course, traditionally reserved for the dead), comprises a huge palace, a gigantic lake and an enormous funerary temple (Kemp and O’Connor 1974). The king’s palace was called “the House of Rejoicing” and was very massive, with painted, plastered walls, some of which have been recovered. In front of it, today dried out and recognisable only from satellite views, was created an enormous “ceremonial” T-shaped lake, connected with the Nile, called the Birket Habu (Graham 2010, 2011). The palace had a great harbour on its docks, from which the king could sail on his “solar” bark. Last but not least, the funerary temple must have been an architectural masterpiece. To obtain the stones necessary for the statues of the king in the temple, the royal officer, Amenhotep son of Apu, mobilised quarries all over the country, even attaining such eminence as to be granted the honour of building a funerary temple for himself not far from that of the king. Little remains today, but the grandiosity of the Amenhotep III project is continuously confirmed by new excavations, and the sight of the first pylon of the temple is branded unforgettably on the memory of anyone entering western Thebes from the south. Here sit two of the most gigantic monolithic statues man has ever ventured to create, the so-called Colossi of Memnon (Sourouzian 2006; Sourouzian et al. 2006). The statues, which stand on huge pedestals and represent the seated king, are about 18 metres high, with an estimated weight of up to 720 tons (Photo 9.1). The material is quartzite, a type of limestone which is readily found at Aswan, some 300 kilometres to the south and therefore transportable downstream. However, it has emerged from geochemical analyses that the stone was not sourced there (Knox et al. 2009) but rather came from quarries located near Heliopolis (yes, Cairo). Therefore, they were not transported downstream but painstakingly moved upstream along the Nile (or dragged across the land a good 500 kilometres). Either way, it must have involved prodigious effort, as we can read in an inscription probably referring to these statues. The inscription stresses how this journey was overlaid with symbolism, and how the route went from “Heliopolis-of-the-North” to “Heliopolis-ofthe-South”; that is, Thebes.

The Horizon of the Aten

Photo 9.1.  Western Thebes. The so-called Colossi of Memnon mark the entrance to the funerary temple of Amenhotep III.

As mentioned, the colossi are still standing today, signalling the entrance to the temple; the axis was oriented to winter solstice sunrise, and therefore the rising sun at midwinter can be seen framed between the two enormous figures. This is the first funerary temple after Hatshepsut to be oriented in this way, and this is surely no coincidence, given what we have learned about the identification of Amenhotep III with Ra. Also, the choice of constructing a new residence near the temple, and therefore on the west bank of the Nile, is indicative of the king’s views regarding his divine role. In fact, this is nothing less than a clean break with tradition: only deceased kings were usually associated with the “dying” sun to the west. In a way, Amenhotep III, identified with the sun, living in his palace on the west bank near his funerary temple and not far from his tomb, was “already dead”, while, as we shall see in a while, his son Akhenaten, living and destined to be buried in the east, was to consider himself “already reborn”. Probably as a consequence of all this rejection of orthodox religious conventions, Amenhotep III also made an innovative choice for his burial place, for his tomb was excavated in the so-called West Valley

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(tombs there are classified with the letters WV followed by a number; Amenhotep III’s is WV22). The West Valley is usually described as a western branch of the Valley of the Kings but is actually another wadi, to the west, running almost parallel to it. WV22 was the first royal tomb located there, and only the unfinished tomb of the king’s son Akhenaten and that of his later successor Ay will follow it. It is difficult to work out the reasons behind such unconventional behaviour. However, it has been proposed that the revolution in kingship and religion which started with Amenhotep III and reached its apex with his son originated from a sort of unbearable burden bearing down on the Pharaonic institution. The Pharaoh was supposed to be simultaneously Horus (a god incarnate on earth), the keeper of the cosmic order on behalf of the sun god, but also the “archetypal strongman”, superior to all others on every occasion. Psychological pressure on him would be perfectly understandable, especially if all these functions were reflected in obsessive official ceremonies and appearances, culminating each year in the Opet festival. In the meantime, the “elite” of the state establishment, and especially army officers and the priesthood, were busily acquiring power and independence. This process, which was extremely lengthy, can be seen reflected in theology (Assmann 2003). In the Old Kingdom, the religious world was sensed as a global interaction between the community and the gods (with the sun god in a prominent role). This interaction perpetuated Maat, the cosmic order, the king being the mediator and the keeper of such order. With the Middle Kingdom and the rise of Amun, a different kind of theology arose. The principal god alone is responsible for the generation of the cosmos and, to some extent, for the creation of the other gods. Clearly, the “poor” living god – the Pharaoh – had to find his own way of keeping his power intact in this developing scenario, as well as take the continuing traditional religion into consideration. In this sense, the importance of matching traditional ideas and recognisable sacred icons with the “new” religion physically “living” in the great temples of eastern Thebes becomes clearer. This can also be seen in the choices made for the sacred landscape of western Thebes as well as for the related rites of the festivals, where “hidden” gods, usually residing in the final, inaccessible chapels of their temples on the east bank, were periodically dragged along in procession, visible – though still inaccessible – to the crowd.

The Horizon of the Aten

As a whole, the office of divine kingship thus demanded more than ever the unconditional support of the people, obtained through the medium of religion; this in turn led to an increase in the intermediary functions and duties of the living god, the man who imparted the will of the supreme god. The situation broke down with the son and successor of Amenhotep III. He acceded as Amenhotep IV, but changed his name from year 5 of his reign to Akhenaten, meaning Alive is the spirit of Aten. I shall refer to him by this name henceforth. This king is universally known for his religious revolution, which tended towards monotheism centring on the Aten, a god we may refer to as the sun disk. The revolution took place in rapid stages and was reflected in the progressive dismantling of the existing religion. This led to the closure of temples devoted to other gods, including Karnak, with the chief priest of Amun dispatched on a mission to a remote quarry. The “only” god was in a sense an old one, since it appears that veneration for the Aten actually commenced in the Middle Kingdom and is documented under Tuthmosis IV and Amenhotep III; in fact, the father of Akhenaten, as mentioned, favoured his own identification with the solar disk. The Aten in Akhenaten’s conception was a universal but exclusive god: basically the only high priests of the Aten were the king and his wife Nefertiti. The representation of the sun disk in the art of the period soon becomes extremely original, and makes it clear that it was precisely the disk, depicted with rays terminating in helpful little hands, that was the object of Akhenaten’s worship. The king and the members of the royal family are shown with rounded, exaggerated facial and corporeal characteristics, a peculiarity which remains unexplained but perhaps was meant to emphasise their exclusive relationship with the god. While most of the other cults were summarily dismantled, the relationship of Aten with the sun god Ra appears more complex; for instance, Ra was retained in the renewed titulary of Akhenaten and incorporated into the names of two of the king’s daughters. Furthermore, in the foundation texts of his new capital, the king explicitly states that the cult of the Mnevis bull – an animal sacred to Ra – was to be retained there, although no traces of it have been rediscovered archaeologically. The rejection of the cult of Amun and the progressive acceptance of the Aten cult appear to have been inexorable. As soon as the king succeeded to the throne, he adorned the southern entrance to Karnak with scenes of himself worshipping the personification of the sun disk and

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ordered the construction of a new temple dedicated to the Aten. This temple – the Gempaten, meaning something like “Aten is found here” – was located to the east of the Amun-Ra temple precinct. The temple was an open court with colossal statues of the king. It was apparently built to celebrate a Sed festival held in the third year of his reign, and was later almost completely destroyed by Horemheb (Redford 1987). The huge statues were knocked down and left there, only to be found some 3200 years later. Only part of the foundations have been excavated, but judging from existing maps, the axis of the temple was parallel to that of Karnak and open to the south-east and therefore oriented to the rising sun at the winter solstice. However, this homage to tradition was soon to be abandoned too, and Egypt was about to embark on a short-lived but extremely interesting phase: the so-called Amarna period. 9.2  The Amarna sacred space Amarna is a sort of desolate bay of flat land, stretching for some 10 kilometres along the east bank of the Nile and surrounded by desert cliffs. It is located about 300 kilometres to the north of Thebes, roughly midway to Memphis. Today it is a rather forbidding place, but it cannot have been so very different when the king chose it as the spot on which to found nothing less than his new capital, called Akhet-Aten, the Horizon of the Aten. Curiously enough, just to the immediate south-east of Amarna, the Nile Valley widens considerably, so it is quite clear that – given that this was the geographical area coveted by the Pharaoh – the site was deliberately chosen to be enclosed as much as possible, almost like a nutshell. The reasons for the choice of such an uninviting place for the new capital of the two lands have been, as is so often the case, overlooked in the existing literature, but  – as usual  – will be of great interest to us. The city was ritually founded, in a manner which may remind us of much later examples, such as the ritual foundations of towns by the Etruscans and the Romans (Rykwert 1999; Magli 2008c). Among such cultures, the foundation of a town was associated with a series of ritual acts aimed at consecrating the landscape. In a similar way, the landscape at Amarna is an example of a consecrated landscape, an environment which is ritually founded to assure its suitability for human beings to inhabit. As such, it does not necessarily have to be particularly

The Horizon of the Aten

comfortable or pleasant; in Mircea Eliade’s words, a place just has to be founded to be inhabited (Eliade 1959, 1964). Sanctification of the whole urban landscape appears to be something of an innovation for the Egyptian world, where foundation rituals are very well known and documented in the archaeological records, but only in the case of temples and tombs. Nevertheless – as mentioned in Chapter 7 – I believe that a sort of boundary of the sacred landscape can perhaps also be identified at Thebes, at least to the north, given the mutual position of two temples located on the opposite banks of the Nile, the “Nest of Horus” on Thoth Hill and the temple of Montu at Medamud. In the case of Amarna, the ritual limitation of the sacred space assumed the unusual form of the so-called boundary stelae. These monuments “speak to each other” through visibility lines traceable between the two banks of the Nile and are of the utmost interest for gauging the king’s mental attitude and thought processes. Each one is a rectangular niche, in many cases originally flanked by carved statues of Akhenaten and Nefertiti and of some of their daughters. It was Flinders Petrie (1894) who first seized on their importance and classified them with letters.1 The stelae were not all carved at the same time; the main time difference appears to be one year, between 4 Peret 13 of year 5, when a first “foundation statement” was carved, and the same day one year later, when this statement was in a sense repeated and enhanced (a further addition was made in year 8). The two texts are usually called “proclamations”. The first proclamation corresponds to the initial, main delimitation of the space of the city within the two crags to the north and the south; and the second proclamation specifies definitively the boundaries of the town on both banks of the Nile. No doubt, these monuments were considered by the king to be extremely important; some of them, when intact and painted, would have been visible from afar, and were meant to be visited, as traces of ancient pathways running up to several of them demonstrate. Their texts are not wholly recognisable, unfortunately. But some passages are, to say the least, astonishing. I quote them from the Murnane and Van Syclen edition (1993), restoring, however, the word “Aten” instead of their “Orb”. The inscriptions first describe the king’s arrival in the place where the “Horizon of the Aten” will be founded, travelling “on the great chariot of electrum” like the Aten himself when “he rises in his horizon and fills the land”. The king then addresses his court. It was apparently crucial for

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him to stress that he had been personally told by his father where to build the city, and that the city had to be built exactly there: The Aten desires that there be made for him … a monument with an eternal and everlasting name. Now, it is the Aten, my father, who advised me concerning it, [namely] Akhetaten. No official has ever advised me concerning it, not any of the people who are in the entire land has ever advised me concerning it, to suggest making Akhetaten in this distant place. It was the Aten, my father, who advised me concerning it, so that it might be made for Him as Akhetaten.… Behold, it is Pharaoh who has discovered it.… I shall make Akhetaten for the Aten, my father, in this place. I shall not make Akhetaten for him to the south of it, to the north of it, to the west of it, to the east of it. I shall not expand beyond the southern stela of Akhetaten toward the south, nor shall I expand beyond the northern stela of Akhetaten toward the north.

It looks as if even Nefertiti has no say in the matter. Indeed, if she says “Look, there is a nice place for Akhetaten in another place”, the king “will not listen to her”. The second proclamation, or decree, gives substantial topographical information about the city and the way it is to be ritually limited by the stelae. The dimensions of the city are fixed with inordinate precision to the nearest cubit. Curiously, for each boundary, the king states “I shall not go past it forever and ever”, which apparently has to be interpreted as an indication that he resolved to confine himself categorically within the city. This interpretation can be criticised, however, on the basis of a passage where he asks to be brought back to his tomb from whichever place he might be in when he dies. The city planned by the Akhenaten architects was abandoned shortly after the death of the king, and rapidly divested of almost all its implements, so that today practically only the foundations and the lower courses of mudbricks of the buildings remain. However, it is the very fact of this abandonment that gives us a unique opportunity to understand the ideas about urban town planning, architecture and symbolism which prevailed at that time. The city can be divided into several zones: residential ones were located to the north and to the south, while the central area was home to the main palaces and temples (Kemp 1976; Kemp and Garfi 1993). The temples were quite different in conception from those of the old religion, where spaces became increasingly cramped and dark the nearer

The Horizon of the Aten

Photo 9.2.  Amarna. The (reconstructed) Small Temple of Aten.

one was allowed to approach the final chapel. Here the temples are open courtyards filled with altars. The largest, today called the Great Aten Temple, occupied an area of 800 × 300 metres enclosed in mudbricks. The second main temple, also called the Small Aten Temple (Photo 9.2), stands nearby. Its axis is parallel to that of the first; we know that it was called “the mansion of the Aten” since its construction is explicitly mentioned in the boundary stelae. As we shall see in the next section, the building has a dramatic connection with the Pharaoh tomb, prompting us to consider it the Amarna version of the Pharaoh funerary temple. 9.3  The Horizon of the Aten Clearly, the choice of a completely virgin location  – ignoring for the moment the problem of understanding how the site was directly indicated by the god Aten – stressed from the very beginning the clean break with the previous Theban-centred religion. A second key point of rupture is that the funerary complex of the king (the cult temple and the tomb) was located on the east bank of the Nile (Figure 9.1). The royal tombs were in fact built in a narrow side valley of a wadi that dominates the eastern horizon of the town, being strategically

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located at the approximate centre of the Amarna bay.2 To some extent, the eastern location of the royal tomb and temple at Amarna reverses the situation instituted by Amenhotep III. Indeed also this Pharaoh created a sort of brand new capital, Malkata, collecting all the main elements representative of his presence – palace of residence, funerary temple and tomb  – onto the western bank, whereas Akhenaten brought the very same elements all onto the eastern bank. The king living in Amarna was thus “already reborn”, his identification with the unique God occurring on the east, rather than the west, horizon. The importance of the eastern horizon and of the wadi within it influenced the whole urban plan of the new town. Indeed, the plan is explicitly based on an orientation whose longitudinal axis runs ~13° south of east. This is the orientation of many blocks of the east ramp of the desert altars (strange, aligned mudbrick platforms located in the desert area north of the town), and is particularly evident in the central town, since this is the azimuth of the Great Temple of Aten and, most importantly of all, that of the Small Temple. To appreciate the significance of this orientation, the Small Temple is the place to go. Indeed, looking along the axis towards the east, the mouth of the royal wadi occupies the horizon. There can be no possible doubt that this alignment is associated with the afterlife, since here – exactly as in Giza some 1200 years before, but here with the rising sun – a beautiful hierophany was planned. The Giza hierophany was intended to replicate the name of the Khufu complex – the Akhet of Khufu – at sunset during the summer solstice (Photo 3.9). The Amarna hierophany was intended to replicate the name of the new city – the Akhet of Aten – at sunrise twice a year (Photo 9.3). Indeed the sun, seen from the temple, rises between the sides of the wadi around 23 February and 24 October (Gregorian). The sun framed by the sides of the wadi creates an Akhet sign, which is still perfectly visible today when looking along the northern side of the temple (Gabolde 2004, 2005). Although there is no definitive proof that the king was inspired by the Giza hierophany, the evidence seems striking. Probably Akhenaten visited Giza, and there even exists a bas-relief in the typical late Amarna style showing the king in Sphinx-like, elongated form. Since the position of the temple was not constrained by topographical features, there can be hardly any doubt that the date of the hierophany was explicitly and deliberately chosen. Although it is difficult

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Photo 9.3.  Amarna. The Akhet of Aten: the sun rising in the royal wadi viewed along the north side of the temple (photograph courtesy of Marc Gabolde).

to be precise – due to uncertainties both in the date of reign of the king and in establishing the starting year of the Egyptian calendar – the date of foundation of the town, which is explicitly mentioned in the Stelae, 4 Peret 13, fell around the solar (Gregorian) late February in the years around 1350 BC. Therefore, we have in Amarna the first example of a tradition which linked orientation with a specific solar date relevant for the foundation of a town, as occurs, for instance, with Alexandria, which was recently shown to be oriented to the rising sun on the day of birth of Alexander the Great (Bauval and Hancock 2004, Ferro and Magli 2012). Interestingly, although the foundation of Amarna is the focus of the texts of the boundary stelae, there is no mention there of the Stretching of the Cord ceremony which, as we have seen, was probably connected with the stars and thus with the old, banned religion. To summarise, it can be said that, despite the innovative features of many of the choices made, the Pharaoh apparently decided to insert a series of understandable and well-established symbols and references in his own funerary landscape. The Akhet hierophany, in particular, is an explicit reference to the tradition of the solar kings of the Old Kingdom, and especially to Giza, a tradition the king must have been quite familiar with. However, we can also find explicit references to the old sacred landscape of Abydos (Richards 1999). In fact, the very same elements – a

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9.1.  Schematic map of the funerary landscape of King Akhenaten, (1) Great Temple of Aten; (2) Small Temple of Aten; (3) axis of the Small Temple; (4) mouth of the royal wadi; (5) royal tomb.

funerary temple (corresponding to the Early Dynastic enclosures), a wadi, and the royal tomb – occur, although in an odd, easterly oriented way, in accordance with what must have been the ideas of the Pharaoh about the afterlife and rebirth (Figure 9.1). As it turns out instead, no traces of New Kingdom notions regarding the afterlife appear to be present at Amarna; in particular, the old-religion funerary texts are completely rejected, with all their symbolism about the journey of the sun during the night dispensed with. From the Hymn to the Aten inscribed on some Amarna tombs, we learn that the sun just sets every day, leaving people in despondency and darkness, and returns promptly the following morning, rising on its own horizon. This strengthens even further the seminal role played by the rising sun in the Amarna sacred space. In this respect, it has been proposed that not only the Small Temple position but indeed the whole urban plan was fixed, depending on the position of the royal wadi and tomb, in such a way that ideal straight lines connect the tomb – and the associated rising sun – with all the main buildings (Mallinson 1999). Perhaps this is stretching things too far. Nevertheless, it is true that the northernmost and southernmost boundary stelae roughly delimit, together with their connecting lines with the tomb, a sort of symmetrical space in which the tomb itself is the focus of attention. 9.4  A message of power There is no trace, then, of “Amarna funerary texts” describing the sun god’s perilous nocturnal journey. Although a few traces of a residual

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Osiris cult have been documented in nonroyal contexts, evidently there was no place for Osiris in Amarna royal theology. As a matter of fact, this may have something to do with one of the two main puzzles arising in the history of Akhetaten, which clearly are: why was it founded where it was founded, and why was it abandoned? In this section, I shall “defend” (to use once an academic idiom which I have always disliked) a somewhat controversial hypothesis which may succeed in answering one of the two posers. Since the hypothesis I am going to discuss relies crucially on the Amarna chronology, I shall now specify as accurately as possible the dating of the Amarna period in line with the latest views of chronology specialists. The regnal dates of Akhenaten vary as follows: Baines and Malek (1981) (the chronology used in the present book) 1353–1335 BC; Von Beckerath (1997) 1351–1334 BC; Shaw (2000) 1352–1336 BC, Dobson and Hilton (2004) 1360–1343 BC; and Hornung, Krauss and Warburton (2006) 1353–1336 BC. Thus, in all chronologies, the foundation of the town – year 5 – is no later than 1346 BC, while the last year of the king might be from 1343 to 1334 BC. Having said that, let us imagine for a moment that we are in Amarna on 14 May 1338 BC. At about 2:20 p.m., something happens (Sellers 1992; McMurray 2005; data independently verified by the author). The sun begins to be obscured by a black semicircular halo, which reaches totality at about 2:41 p.m. The air temperature drops, dogs bark, and the bright stars of the night can be seen for as long as four minutes. According to all the chronologies mentioned, this total solar eclipse took place between the end of Akhenaten’s reign and the beginning of that of his successor. The king died almost certainly in the seventeenth year of his reign. It is unclear – and ferociously debated – what really happened immediately afterwards. It appears that an enigmatic figure called Smenkhkara ascended briefly to the throne; in any case, in the space of a few years, the ruler of Egypt became a young boy, probably the son of Akhenaten. He was called Tutankhaten, “living image of the Aten”, but soon changed his name in a way which left no room for doubt regarding his religious intentions: Tutankhamun. In spite of the fact that his tomb was discovered virtually intact on 4 November 1922 by archaeologist Howard Carter in the Valley of the Kings, not much is known about the reign of the young king besides the fact that he led the country back to the old gods and left the new capital to return to Thebes, probably in his

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year 3. At any rate, he was too young to take such ponderous decisions on his own, and indeed during his reign two personages, the priest Ay and General Horemheb, both of whom would rule after him, figured prominently. The eclipse can thus be accommodated easily into all the chronologies as being observed by the court residing in Akhetaten, and may be proposed as one of the causes which led to the banishment of the new cult and the return to the old gods. One can indeed imagine this as a strong negative signal, a sort of spell cast by the old gods on the shining solar disk to incite a return to a more modest status quo. However, all it would take to bring the eclipse to Akhenaten’s regnal year 5 is at most ten years in all reasonable chronologies. A ten-year shift would not be so terribly implausible, since there are many uncertainties about the ruler who succeeded Akhenaten, as well as about the length of Horemheb’s reign. So, still at a speculative level, I do think that an active – rather than passive – interpretation of the eclipse is much more convincing. In other words, it is far too much of a coincidence to imagine that the eclipse just happened to occur at Amarna a few years after its foundation (passive interpretation)  – rather than thinking that Amarna was chosen because it was a fitting place among those lying well within the totality range of the eclipse. And indeed, what means did the Aten have to advise his son about the place of the new capital? As we have seen, the reality of this explicit advice appears definitively in the foundation texts of the boundary stelae, written – according to our hypothesis – at the end of February 1337 BC, ten months after the eclipse. Ten months would be plenty of time for the king to be informed about the places of totality and to select a suitable new site, and it would not be inconceivable even to suppose that the Pharaoh was actually travelling in that area and witnessed the totality. A clear hint that this may be the correct interpretation comes from the texts. First of all, the language bordering on the obsessive used in the stelae seems to aim at putting into a good light what might otherwise be interpreted as a bad omen. Furthermore, the texts aim to convince the reader that the king alone is authorised to construe the messages of the Aten properly. Another curious fact is that, around year 9, Akhenaten felt the need to “change the name” of the god, who then acquired the “didactic” cartouche name. The didactic name starts more or less as “the Living One, Ruler of the Horizon, who rejoices at the horizon”, but

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the meaning of the final part is somewhat nebulous and seems to make reference to something called “the shadow of the Sun Disk”. In any case, I stated in Chapter 4 that the only two eclipses being considered in this book are associated with an additional, previously unnoticed confirmation that leads us to think that they had a tangible influence on Egyptian history. In the case of the Shepsekaf eclipse, it was the shape of the king’s tomb, connected with the place of eclipse totality, Buto. In the Amarna case, the new fact is the following. As mentioned in Box 4, during totality, the planets and the brightest stars can be seen close to the eclipsed sun. By performing a computer simulation of the Amarna eclipse, it can be seen that the sun at totality was located – and therefore reappeared – in that part of the ecliptic which lies between Gemini and Taurus. This is the section of the path of the sun which is the closest possible to the celestial region pertaining to Osiris-Orion, as defined by the old religion since the Pyramid Texts. Furthermore, Sirius – which had undergone heliacal setting a few days before and was therefore in its invisibility period – was visible during the eclipse, almost at culmination to the south. If Akhenaten’s father – the dazzling sun disk – was searching for an explicit signal of his victory against the old religion, the old gods, and the old ideas concerning the afterlife, then it is my firm belief that he could not have found a better position for himself in the sky from which to launch his awe-inspiring message of power.

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10.1  A divine king … On Tutankhamun’s death, a member of the Amarna elite, a priest called Ay, ascended the throne. Ay’s reign, however, was very short. On his death, his successor, Horemheb, gave fresh impetus to the restoration of the old religion and subjected Ay himself to a damnatio memoriae by usurping his funerary temple in western Thebes. Horemheb designated as his heir an official of his court, Ramesses I, considered the founder of the nineteenth dynasty. With the latter’s son, Seti I, and grandson, Ramesses II, Egypt was to enter the last period of great splendour of the New Kingdom. Seti I concluded the process of reorganising the country, re-establishing the old cults definitively and reaffirming Egypt’s sovereignty at the western borders. His building program is apparent in numerous places, above all, of course, at Thebes, where among other projects the king ordered the construction of a magnificent funerary temple located to the north-east of Deir el Bahri. Yet Seti I was the first king of the New Kingdom after Ahmose to lavish particular attention on Abydos, where he built a temple which is one of the most stunning masterpieces of Egyptian architecture (Photo 10.1). The outer courtyard of the Seti I temple at Abydos has been destroyed, so visitors today encounter the façade directly, accessed by a flight of stairs. Once inside, the atmosphere of the enormous hypostyle hall immediately rivets the attention. It is sometimes said that it was conceived to resemble the primeval swamps of creation; what is certain is that it is almost in darkness, with fascinating beams of sunlight that illuminate small spots. The building was dedicated to as many as seven

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Photo 10.1.  Abydos. Light and shadow effects in the temple of Seti I.

gods, the most important being Amun (in the central chapel), with Seti I, Ptah and Ra-Horakhti to the left and Osiris, Isis and Horus to the right. To the rear of the chapels, the axis of the temple is subject to a 90° turn to the left, a circumstance which – as far as I am aware – is unique in the history of Egyptian architecture. The left corridor bears, inscribed on its walls, a list of kings. The list (which excludes Hatshepsut and the Amarna period but is otherwise an important historical document) was placed there for unknown reasons, yet the passage is by no means a secondary one, since the temple still has a final, astonishing surprise in store. A second right-angled turn leads to a corridor and then, past the exterior back wall, to a strange submerged structure – not structurally connected with the temple but perfectly aligned with it – usually called the Osireion (Figure 10.1). This building is so unique and so anomalous in New Kingdom architecture that most of the available descriptions give an incorrect characterisation of it. In particular, it is said repeatedly that the monument bears many similarities to the royal tombs of the Valley of the Kings. This borders on the ridiculous: the only “similarity” is that some of the walls have been inscribed (especially under Seti’s grandson, Merenptah)

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10.1.  Map of the Osireion, Abydos.

with texts typical of the royal tombs of the valley, such as the Amduat. Like it or not, the only possible parallel for the Osireion is to be found far off in time and space: the temples of the second pyramid at Giza (Figure 3.6 and Photos 3.7 and 3.8). The Osireion was in fact built by an architect who – just like the architect of that temple’s complex – was extremely proficient with megalithic structures, as it is made out of enormous granite and sandstone blocks. Furthermore, the builders of the Osireion were perfectly happy to work in the presence of water, since the monument was designed with the express purpose of being flooded. As far as I can understand them, their mode of operation was as follows. First, a huge rectangular pit about 15 metres deep was excavated. Then the pit was “encased” with huge slabs and a rectangular, pillared hall was built inside it. Finally, a canal was excavated and flooded in such a way as to create an “island”, accessed by two symmetrical flights of stairs, from the central court. Six niches, or chapels, are present on both of the longer sides; three further niches are set on the side of the Seti I temple, and two on the opposite side. Of these niches, all are “dummies” except for the central one on the temple side, which opens into a rectangular room usually called the “sarcophagus room”, though no sarcophagus has ever been found there. The roof of this chamber is made up of enormous slabs and is similar to that of the Queen’s Chamber in the Great Pyramid.

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All in all, this really is an incomparable building. The standard interpretation is that it was built by Seti I together with his own temple, with the aim of representing the Osiris cenotaph. However, it is strange that in a period of self-celebration such as the Ramesside one, the monumental effort required to quarry and transport the megaliths of this structure was not celebrated in inscriptions. Apparently, the Osireion (Photo 10.2) is not even mentioned anywhere in the temple behind, or in other official Seti I inscriptions.1 Moreover, the “true” Osiris cenotaph had already been identified and venerated since the Middle Kingdom and stood less than 2 kilometres to the south-west in the necropolis of Umm el Qaab; it is difficult to understand what prompted Seti I to build a new one. So, either the Osireion is a cenotaph for the king himself – but in that case it is distinctly odd that his son Ramesses II, who completed his father’s temple but also built his own temple nearby, did not want a similar cenotaph for himself as well  – or one might be led to think that the building already existed and had perhaps already been forgotten, as happened for the relatively similar temple of the Sphinx at Giza, by the time of the Middle Kingdom (so that a “false” Osiris cenotaph was created). Somehow Seti became aware of the existence of the Osireion and ordered the construction of his own temple – with the same main axis but a strange L-plan – as a frontal addition. The temple was conceived also as a means for dynastic “time travel” leading, through the corridor of the king’s list, to the cenotaph of the first mythical Pharaoh, Osiris. On the other hand, it should be mentioned that serious difficulties for an Old Kingdom dating stem from the fact that little activity at Abydos is documented archaeologically in this period, although important remains of the Old Kingdom phase may still be buried under late period structures (O’Connor 2009).2 Understanding the role of water in the monument would be helpful; recently it has been ascertained that the water most likely comes (mainly) from the Nile (Westerman, Issawi and Parizek 2011), and there exist offering tables of the fourth dynasty (for instance, Sethu’s table found in Dahshur) where huge, rectangular basins used for ritual offerings are depicted, together with information on the level of the water in them at different seasons. A huge basin excavated in the rock and accessed by a flight of stairs is also present near Khentkaues’ tomb in Giza. In this connection, it is also interesting to note that a deep, multilevel flooded tomb at Giza is sometimes identified as yet another Osiris dummy tomb or cenotaph (Hawass 2007). This shaft lies beneath

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Photo 10.2.  Abydos. The Osireion.

the second pyramid causeway and is arranged on three levels; the deepest one contains a flooded hall with a central sarcophagus. Access is so difficult, however, that it is hard to believe that this place could have been frequented by pilgrims. To conclude, I must say that the attribution of the Osireion to Seti I seems to conflict with what we know about architectural ideas and the celebration of divine kingship during his reign. Admittedly, a predilection for archaism is apparent in the Ramesside age, but the architectural archetypes are to be sought rather in the Middle Kingdom and not in the megalithic temples of the Old Kingdom, which were barely known at that time (indeed the Sphinx temple – which it would be easy to indicate as the archaic prototype for the Osireion project – was not known). Another problem is the orientation of the building and of the Seti I temple aligned with it. In fact, for a new temple planned at Abydos, an inter-cardinal orientation would have been natural, in a way – in line with what we already know – almost compulsory. Clear proof is to be found extraordinarily nearby, in the Ramesses II Abydos temple, built a few years later and a few hundred metres away, which bears an azimuth of 44°. The azimuth of the Osireion–Seti I temple axis is instead 36°, which

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is too low to consider it as being a member of the inter-cardinal family. The solution has to be elsewhere. One can take the rather feeble view that the axis points on the opposite side to the old necropolis at Umm el Qaab and therefore to the “true” Osiris’ cenotaph (Figure 1.2), but this alignment is extremely approximative since it passes some 200 metres to the south-west of the Early Dynastic necropolis; in fact, the projected course of the axis passes over a low mound covered with pottery of all epochs, which might itself have been sacred (Effland and Effland 2010). If, on the other hand, we seek a reasonable astronomical target, none is recognisable (either at rising or setting) during the Seti I reign, and we are forced back again to the period of the fourth dynasty (say 2550 BC), when the brilliant star Arcturus, the brightest in the Egyptian northern skies, rose in almost perfect alignment with the azimuth 36°. 10.2  … and his divine child In the reliefs of the king’s gallery in Abydos, Seti I is shown together with his heir, a young prince who would become perhaps the most famous Pharaoh of all after Khufu: Ramesses II.3 The reign of Ramesses II was characterised by the king’s grandeur and ubiquity: massive architectural projects were devised and executed at his behest, such as a new royal residence in the Nile Delta and a gigantic columned hall which the king added to Karnak. Several new temples were constructed, for instance the two at Abu Simbel and, as mentioned in the previous section, a new one at Abydos, close to that of his father and begun when the king was still co-regent. The temple appears to be mainly dedicated to Osiris, although a series of other divinities are depicted as well; it also contained another copy of the list of kings (fragments of it are today in the British Museum). Perhaps Ramesses II’s most ambitious project, however, was the Ramesseum, the king’s funerary temple, which we shall be meeting in the next section. The name of the king and his structural additions also appear on many pre-existing temples. In particular, the king’s war campaign against the Hittites was made famous by the ubiquitous inscriptions which recounted it. Ramesses II celebrated himself as a god in numerous instances; interestingly, his reign marks a special moment in Egyptian history since for the first time after his creation the civil calendar re-aligned with the solar year, after some 1500 years of wandering. So, it is certainly not a

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coincidence that the most famous hierophany associating the king with the gods is related to the calendar. It occurs in Nubia, at Abu Simbel. Here Ramesses II ordered the construction of two temples on the west bank of the Nile. The temples were dismantled and later reassembled in a higher, more suitable place to save them from the rising of Lake Nasser after the construction of the Aswan Dam in the 1960s. In this way, they have been saved, although, unfortunately, the dramatic effect they exerted on sailors is lost forever. The temples were in fact excavated in the rock, and their façade was created by sculpting the cliff surface. The smallest one was built in honour of Ramesses’ most eminent wife, Nefertari. The large one really is large: on the façade are four seated colossi of the king, each about 21 metres high, flanked by two chapels, one dedicated to Ra-Horakhti, the other to Thoth. The interior is made up of subsequent halls aligned on the same axis. At about 60 metres from the entrance lies the core of the monument, a small chapel with the seated statues of the four deities to whom the temple is dedicated. From left to right, they are Ptah, Amun-Ra, the deified king and Ra-Horakhti (Photo 10.3). For a few days, twice a year, a thrilling spectacle takes place here, when the rising sun at dawn penetrates as far as the inner recess of the temple. The sun carefully avoids lighting up the chthonic god Ptah. It illuminates first Amun-Ra, then the king, and finally Ra-Horakhti. Fortunately, this phenomenon is still visible today because those responsible for the rescue and removal of the temple were aware of it and therefore the corresponding alignment has been respected, although, to the best of my knowledge, the profile of the horizon as seen from the entrance in the original position has not been surveyed and recorded. The hierophany was clearly an architectural constraint which governed the planning of the building from the very beginning. So, there can hardly be any doubt that the corresponding dates were deemed to be important.4 The azimuth of the temple, ~101°, points to the rising sun in late February and late October (Gregorian dates close to 20 February and 22 October), and these dates are of importance since they were connected with the beginning of the calendar seasons Shemu and Peret during the time of Ramesses II. The interest in astronomy and calendrical aspects in the project of the temple is also confirmed by the chapel located to the north of the colossi and devoted to Ra-Horakhti: the axis of this chapel is skewed 16° to the south of that of the temple, in such a way as to align with sunrise at the winter solstice (Krupp 1988).

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Photo 10.3.  Abu Simbel. The innermost chapel of the temple of Ramesses II. From left to right: Ptah, Amun-Ra, Ramesses II and Ra-Horakhti.

10.3  The temples of millions of years As we have already seen, along with their tombs in the Valley of the Kings, the kings of the New Kingdom constructed a “memorial” temple on the west bank. These temples were built on the border of the cultivated land, near the base of the cliffs surrounding el Qurn. The southernmost is also the last one, that of Ramesses III at Medinet Habu, but the other temples’ locations do not follow any recognisable chronological order on the ground; the northernmost one is that of Seti I, slightly to the north-east of Deir el Bahri, and all the others are crowded in between (Figure 8.1). The monuments conform to the standard Egyptian temple plan: the entrance pylon is followed by an open court, a columned hall and the inner sanctuary, so they are not, in principle, different from the “divine” temples in serving the function of “containers” for the god’s statue and energy. Generally speaking, it can be said that these monuments were devoted to the worship of the king, and in this sense they play a role

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Photo 10.4.  Western Thebes. The colonnade hall of the Ramesseum.

similar to that of the Early Dynastic royal enclosures and the pyramid’s temples; furthermore, at least some of them certainly had a false door, to which offerings for the deceased were brought on a regular basis. However, it is essential to note that all were also temples of Amun. Each one had a specific name (similarly to the pyramid complexes), and these names defined them as “mansions”, where the Ka of the king was destined to reside together with the main god for “millions of years”. For example, the two best-preserved temples, which we are about to visit, those of Ramesses II (or Ramesseum) and Ramesses III, were called something like “the Mansion of Millions of Years of Ramesses II United with Thebes in the Domain of Amun” and “the Mansion of Millions of Years of Ramesses III United with Etern in the Domain of Amun in Western Thebes”, respectively.5 The Ramesseum (Photo 10.4) was begun very early, probably in the king’s year 2. The enormous complex covers an area of approximately 6 hectares and comprises a stone building surrounded on three sides by mudbrick houses and storerooms with vaulted arches. Looking at any map of the main building, at first sight it would seem that the author of the map was rather sloppy, since the walls are not parallel. But, as it turns

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Photo 10.5.  Western Thebes. The fallen colossus in the Ramesseum.

out, the Ramesseum does have a slightly trapezoidal plan, based on two axes that skew each other by 2°. It is sometimes asserted that the wish to orient the temple “towards Luxor” and, at the same time, the pre-existence of a smaller structure built by Seti I led to the strange, skewed plan. However, besides the fact that a temple on the west bank cannot be oriented to Luxor since Luxor is parallel to the Nile, the perpendicular to the front of the Ramesseum passes well to the north of the Ramesses II pylon there. Thus, the trapezoidal plan must have been a deliberate choice on the part of the architect, who wanted to enhance the perspective effect. Perhaps he was the very same architect who designed the trapezoidal, skewed court of the Luxor temple and was accordingly authorised by the king to make an explicit reference to that project. In any event, it is difficult for us today to perceive the skewed plan because the first court – once housing the (today collapsed) enormous granite colossus of the king (Photo 10.5), originally some 16 metres high, which inspired Percy Bysshe Shelley’s poem “Ozymandias” – is in poor repair. The second courtyard is lined with statues of the king in Osiris guise; it gives access to the hypo­ style hall, which is provided with 48 papyriform columns. This hall is

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Photo 10.6.  Medinet Habu. The first pylon of the temple of Ramesses III.

a veritable architectural masterpiece and was used as the prototype for another, more famous one: the hypostyle hall which was added at Karnak by the same king. The final rooms contain drawings of royal and divine boats on the walls and an astronomical ceiling similar to those found in tombs of the same period. Of the final sanctuary, only the foundations remain. It is clear that the Ramesseum also inspired the other great memorial temple which has come down to us virtually intact, the temple located at Medinet Habu (the southernmost area below the Theban hills) (Photo 10.6). It is the last memorial temple of western Thebes that we know of, and it pertains to the last great king of the New Kingdom, the second Pharaoh of the twentieth dynasty, Ramesses III (1194–1163 BC). The area, however, had been sacred since at least the eighteenth dynasty, and a small temple of Amun built by Hatshepsut and Tuthmosis III was located there. This building is now visible next to the entrance area, enclosed in the same mudbrick enclosure as the later complex and dwarfed by the huge, perfectly conserved first pylon of the Ramesses III temple. The complex was actually conceived of as a temple town, enclosed within a wall and resembling a military fort. The presence of the massive wall was a contributing factor in making the site an important administration centre at a later date, though it is unlikely that it was originally planned

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for defence purposes. The temple proper, as mentioned, alludes to the Ramesseum in many details; it develops along two hypostyle halls followed by an inner sanctuary, with its shrines of the king and of the members of the Theban triad. The axis, however, is rigorously maintained here. The interior is relatively well preserved; although pillar statues were destroyed when the area was converted into a church, many reliefs were only painted over and have since been recovered. As mentioned, the cult of the deceased king in the memorial temples was always “united” with that of Amun of Karnak and Luxor (Arnold et al. 1997; Kemp 2005). The connection between these monuments and Karnak was made explicit, once a year, by the other (besides the Opet) main festival of Thebes: the “Beautiful Feast of the Valley”. This festival was instituted during the Middle Kingdom and originally connected Karnak with the funerary temple of Mentuhotep II at Deir el Bahri. With the construction of new temples on the west bank, commenced in the early New Kingdom, the procession acquired more and more stations. At each festival, in fact, the statue of Amun of Karnak, accompanied by Mut and Khonsu, crossed the Nile with a large flock of attendants and visited the temples of Amun united with the deified kings on the opposite bank. The significance of the festival was associated with the remembrance of the dead, but it slowly assumed aspects concerned with renewal, becoming similar to the Opet. Again, as we asked ourselves in Chapter 8 with regard to the Karnak-Luxor connection and the Opet, we have to wonder about the role of astronomy, if any, in the Temples of Millions of Years and the associated explicit manifestations of royal power. One of the most famous astronomical ceilings of the Ramesside period is actually that of the “Astronomy Room” in the heart of the Ramesseum, and it is difficult to escape the idea that the priests of the service practised astronomy there. But this conviction does not help much, as the orientation of the memorial temples is a diabolically intricate puzzle. From Table A.7 we can see that, apart from the two temples we have already discussed – those of Hatshepsut and Amenhotep III – which undeniably face the winter solstice sunrise, all the others are oriented at azimuths to the south of that of the rising sun at midwinter. Yet, two other temples must be distinguished, those of Seti I and his grandson Merenptah (“beloved by Ptah”), which are similar in design and both oriented at an azimuth close to 123°. This is at Thebes the azimuth of the moon

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when it reaches (every 18.6 years) its major southern standstill at a declination around −29°. Even though there is no substantial evidence to show that lunar standstills were observed by Egyptian astronomers, the fact that these two particular temples, closely connected in a dynastic sense with two kings particularly devout to Ptah, share this orientation deserves attention (Furlong 2010). The same direction of the axis is also found on the west bank in the Karnak complex, where a small temple of Ptah is oriented at ~304°. This would correspond approximately to the setting of the moon at the major northern standstill if the horizon were flat, a situation which, as we know very well, is not the case at Karnak. However, we can follow the opposite direction, exactly as we know it has to be done for the main Karnak temple (which opens to the north-west but was oriented to the south-east), and suppose that the temple of Ptah was also oriented to the rising of the moon at the major southern standstill, at azimuth ~124°. An explicit connection between Ptah and the moon has not, as far as I know, been documented in the literature (the moon god was rather Thoth), but one of the few truly convincing cases of lunar orientation in Egypt is found at a sanctuary of the temple complex of Serabit el Khadim, in the Sinai, founded in the Middle Kingdom. Here there is a shrine to Thoth, but the sanctuary was probably originally devoted to Ptah (Belmonte, Shaltout and Fekri 2009). Be that as it may with regard to the Seti and Merenptah temples, all the other azimuths of the royal memorial temples at western Thebes fall well below the azimuths of the moon’s southern standstill and cluster near the inter-cardinal direction 135°. This is clearly a very important aspect of the project of these wonderful monuments, but why was it devised? This orientation has the obvious practical result that the façade of each temple is fully illuminated by the climbing sun every morning during the year. Yet it is difficult to accept “orientation to the sun climbing in the sky” as adequate justification for the architectural choices made, because the other side of the coin is that the sun never aligns with the axis of the temples at ground level, and therefore never penetrates up to the inner recesses. In fact, it is a somewhat weird experience to visit, for instance, the magnificent temple of Medinet Habu, looking along the axis which runs straight across the various courts (Photo 10.7), knowing that the sun never follows the same path up to the end of the temple. So there must be another reason for this orientation. As for Abydos, it

The last of the greats

Photo 10.7.  Medinet Habu. The straight axis of the temple as viewed from the end chapel.

has been suggested that it was obtained indirectly by determining celestial north through the movement of circumpolar stars and then rotating this direction 135° clockwise towards the Nile; the slight discrepancies between the azimuths of the temples would be due to different choices for the circumpolar stars used to determine north at transit (Belmonte, Shaltout and Fekri 2009). However, in this case also I do not believe that the idea that the builders wanted to “mediate” between orientation to true north and orientation orthogonal to the Nile is at all feasible. In the ancient Egyptian mind, “preserving order” meant above all “preserving tradition”, sometimes in an almost manic, time-travelling way, and indeed, as we shall see shortly, the whole sacred space at western Thebes closely resembles the original sacred space at Abydos, where the funerary enclosures  – the ideal precursors of the memorial temples  – were oriented inter-cardinally. Consequently the pattern of orientation of the temples might also have been, purely and simply, borrowed deliberately from there. As a result, the memorial temples were probably not oriented specifically towards a celestial target but rather in a direction that had been considered sacred for almost two millennia and that still corresponded, albeit roughly, to the rising of the brightest part of the Milky Way.

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10.4  The end of an era and its inheritance In a paper published in the 1970s, Alice and Thom Kehoe wrote that “the archaeologist must approach his data with the expectation of describing concrete objects that in reality had their primary cultural existence as percepts in topological relation to one another within the cognitive schemata of human beings” (Kehoe and Kehoe 1973; Flannery and Marcus 1996; Preucel 2010). This rather convoluted statement actually expresses a quite natural fact. We should always try to contextualise the object of our study into the time and location of its conception and construction, taking into account historical, climatic and economic conditions, the physical environment and the landscape, the symbolic environment and the cultural (sacred) landscape, as well as the knowledge, way of thinking and religious beliefs of the builders. A cognitive approach to archaeological reality should be global in this sense, even if the aim is to understand perhaps only one specific aspect. This book has been written with the aim of gaining a better ­understanding of a series of “mechanisms of the sacred” which prevailed in Egyptian architecture over millennia, using as a key the way in which astronomical and topographical connections were embodied in buildings, and thus treating as mere “objects” what amount to some of the most wonderful monuments ever created by man. These “objects” were interrelated with the sky, the natural landscape, and the ­“dynastic” human-built landscape in a symbolic, though explicit, way: we can assume that at least the primary significance of these connections was plainly visible and widely familiar to everyone in ancient times. The perfect instrument for uncovering and analysing the same connections today is archaeoastronomy, in its broad meaning of “the science of the ancient landscape including the sky”. As an archaeoastronomer, however, there dangles above my head – like the sword of Damocles – the famous comment made by Jacquetta Hawkes in response to the first studies on the astronomical implications of Stonehenge, where Gerald Hawkings was trying to demonstrate that the monument was a neolithic astronomical calculator. Hawkes (1967) wrote that “every age gets the Stonehenge it deserves – and desires”. However, many years have passed since then, and now we do know that Stonehenge was not a computational machine for astronomical cycles, as Hawkings had ventured to suggest. So, in a way,

The last of the greats

what he was really searching for was the Stonehenge he wished for but which did not exist, and equally, archaeoastronomy is not the universal key, the passe-partout that can divulge all the secrets of such a complex monument. On the other hand, the relevance of astronomy there and in thousands of other megalithic monuments in neolithic Europe cannot be denied (Ruggles 1999; Hoskin 2001). Archaeoastronomy, then, is only one key, but an extremely valuable one. The main finding of our long archaeoastronomical voyage across the Egyptian sacred landscapes is that they were developed, and later rearranged and reinterpreted, always following a very limited number of patterns. In a sense, one can say that there was a single overriding pattern: the wish to maintain Maat, the cosmic order, in the human-built landscape. Preserving Maat was identified with adherence to a set of canons and, within each landscape, a series of successive architectural projects were conceived and developed, and a series of ideas were put into action, to comply with such canons. To some extent, these canons are analogous to rules of writing, and, indeed, architectural invention was closely interrelated with hieroglyph writing. The very act of creation in the Egyptian conception was connected with writing in a structural analogy between language and cosmos, almost in the same way the sacred landscapes are “written” by means of objects corresponding to giant versions of hieroglyphs: the pyramids, of course, but also the natural signs of two peaks, and the “solarised” version of the Akhet sign, to mention only the most important. These objects express the foundation of the divine power of their builders and are interconnected with each other according to rules which – by placing them one after another along ordered lines – explicitly refer to the dynastic and/or divine claims to kingship on the part of their owners. In a similar fashion, hieroglyphs in an Egyptian text interrelate with each other, showing the direction of reading to be followed (from left to right or from right to left) by the direction in which they are “turned”, and gods’ names inserted in words are put at the beginning even if they are not to be read first. The first funerary landscape, that of Abydos, already expresses the seminal “writing” rule: order is determined by a combination of orientation and topographical criteria. The orientation rule is obeyed by every single monument; at Abydos, it is inter-cardinal. The topographical criterion affects subsequent monuments; it requires a displacement along an inter-cardinal direction. This is south of east for the enclosures. For

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the tombs, it is first south of west and later south of east. In addition, the sacred landscape can be experienced by walking through it; this reflects the connection of the sacred with the idea of pilgrimage – a connection which was to become common among numerous other cultures. Here the processional route is along the meridian, with a prominent natural feature, the Abydos wadi, located to the south. When the capital moves to Memphis (after the short period of the step pyramids of the third dynasty, of which we know little, and the period of Snefru, unique in many respects), the canons of the sacred space again appear firmly established. The orientation is switched to strictly cardinal. The topographical norm that governs subsequent monuments requires a displacement which is generically to the south-west (with the sole exception of Djedefra, who moves to the north-west). The displacement of each monument occurs along a line directed to Heliopolis (thus precisely south of west at Giza, with a more inclined azimuth at Abusir) and later along a dynastic inter-cardinal axis at Saqqara and Saqqara south. The natural feature of the Abydos wadi with its associated double-peak sign to the south of the necropolis at Umm el Qaab is replaced in the Memphite necropolis by the artificial double peaks of Snefru at Dahshur. The pyramid causeways provide the setting for processional routes separately in each complex. With the Middle Kingdom renaissance, the one-half turnaround of the calendar compared to the the solar year probably turns the orientation to the winter solstice sun – which we already find scattered in some places during the Old Kingdom – in an important orientation pattern, as occurs for instance in the Mentuhotep temple at Deir el Bahari and in the project of the Karnak axis. Yet it remains the pattern connected with Thebes, given that the projects of the royal pyramids – all built between the old necropolis at Dahshur and the Fayoum oasis – essentially respect the traditional, cardinal orientation. The way in which such buildings are arranged at Dahshur reflects the old idea of geometrical order by means of meridian (and dynastic) connecting lines between new monuments and of “perspective” connecting lines between new pyramids and the old (Snefru) projects. When we move to the New Kingdom, Thebes is established definitively as the heart of the country. As a matter of fact, someone between Ahmose and Thutmose III  – but considerable evidence points to Ahmose’s successor, Amenhotep I – cleverly devised the organisation of

The last of the greats

the funerary landscape in the relatively restricted area of western Thebes in such a way that it constituted a new sacred landscape in which, however, a series of immediately recognisable, old symbols were present. The royal tombs are located in the Valley of the Kings, which lies immediately behind the hills where the sun sets near the summer solstice as seen from Karnak. The valley is dominated by a prominent, natural peak of pyramidal shape. The landscape is completed by the memorial temples located at the edge of the cultivation, and the orientation of these temples generally follows the traditional inter-cardinal pattern inaugurated at Abydos more than 1500 years before. This impressive series of analogies leads to speculation that perhaps it was Ahmose’s choice of Abydos, and the consequent search for a similar sacred space at Thebes by his successors, to inspire the establishment of the new royal necropolis in the Valley of the Kings. Clearly, such a suggestion would be corroborated if definitive evidence emerged regarding the establishment of the necropolis by his direct successor. Within this scenario of continuous cultural identity and identification spanning almost two millennia of Egyptian history, a few interruptions or “ruptures” can, however, be spotted. In the two most striking cases, I have tentatively endorsed the idea that they closely correspond to a parallel “rupture” in the regularity of the celestial cycles: a total solar eclipse. These correspond to the reign of Shepsekaf and to the consequent groundbreaking advent of the fifth dynasty which follows, and to the foundation of Akhetaten. In the first case, the conceptual break appears as a return to an older, pre-solar tradition, while in the second, although a dramatic religious revolution is taking place, the new capital is conceived and planned by rearranging, in an original way, a series of old symbols and references, such as the Akhet hierophany first devised by Khufu. As a whole, perhaps the famous Arab proverb saying that time fears the pyramids captures the ancient Egyptian sense of time better than any other attempted explanation. In Egypt, the idea of “becoming” was somehow associated with cyclical time; it would perhaps be stretching things to call this sense of time “profane”, although only one other type of “time”, which we are bound to term “sacred”, existed. It was a “standing time”, a “suspension”, whose traditional master was Osiris, and Osiris alone. So Egyptian time is always, in a sense, sacred; time in Egypt is “unsuitable for history”, as Assmann (2003) put it. And indeed

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no civilisation possessed such an unchanging collective identity over the course of such a long period more than ancient Egypt, and no civilisation apart from Egypt expressed this so plainly in its architectural achievements. As a final example, then, allow me to compare the very first sacred landscape we encountered in this book with the very last one. The first is that of the Early Dynastic royal necropolis, as epitomised by its last complex, chronologically speaking, that of King Khasekhemwy. Like any sacred landscape, that of Khasekhemwy is a carefully ordered one. Directionality is fixed in a meridian, north to south direction, and the elements from north to south are the funerary enclosure oriented inter-cardinally, a processional pathway running roughly along the meridian, the royal tomb, a wadi to the south and a hill to the east of the wadi. The sacred landscape as a whole derives its integrity from a harmonious interplay between selected natural elements and human-made elements. About 1500 years separate the first conception of the Abydos landscape from that of the New Kingdom royal necropolis at western Thebes, exemplified also in this case by its last complex in chronological order, that of king Ramesses III. Like any sacred landscape, that of Ramesses III is a carefully ordered one. Directionality is fixed in a meridian, south to north direction, and the elements from south to north are the funerary temple oriented inter-cardinally, a processional pathway running roughly along the meridian, the royal tomb, a wadi to the north and a hill to the west of the wadi. With the construction of Medinet Habu, the era of great architectural accomplishment in the New Kingdom is starting to draw to a close, as does this book. Egypt, however, was to go on to enjoy a new era of splendour under the so-called reign of Kush, during the twenty-fifth dynasty. The kings of this period regarded themselves as direct heirs and keepers of extremely ancient traditions, and their architecture also reflects such ideas in its orientation and relationship with the landscape. Later on, ancient Egyptian ideas and motifs would pervade Hellenistic culture right up to the end of the Egyptian civilisation and the Roman conquest. The cultural continuity of the Egyptian traditions can be traced up to the inscriptions relating to the foundation ritual – the Stretching of the Cord – of the last of the great Egyptian temples, Dendera and Edfu, built in Ptolemaic times (Photo 10.8).

The last of the greats

Photo 10.8.  Edfu. The Pharaoh and the goddess Seshat perform the ceremony of the Stretching of the Cord (Ptolemaic epoch).

These inscriptions make reference to the very same asterism, the Bull’s Foreleg, and indeed to the very same star, Kochab, towards which the gaze of the statue of the first pyramid-builder, the Pharaoh Djoser, had been directed some 2600 years before.

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Appendix

Table A.1.  Approximate azimuths at rising (with a flat horizon) of the stars Acrux, Rigil Kent and Hadar during Egyptian history, as observed from the main centre of power of the country at standard reference dates. Place

Approximate Date

Star

Abydos

3100 BC (Early Dynastic)

Memphis

2600 BC (Old Kingdom)

Lisht

2000 BC (Middle Kingdom)

Thebes

1550 BC (New Kingdom)

Acrux Rigil Kent Hadar Acrux Rigil Kent Hadar Acrux Rigil Kent Hadar Acrux Rigil Kent Hadar

Azimuth at Rising 133° 129°30′ 128° 137° 134°30′ 132°30′ 140° 138° 136° 140° 138°30′ 136°30′

Table A.2.  Approximate azimuths at rising (with a flat horizon) of the stars Vega and Deneb as observed from the main centre of power of the country at standard reference dates. Place

Approximate Date

Star

Abydos

3100 BC (Early Dynastic)

Memphis

2600 BC (Old Kingdom)

Lisht

2000 BC (Middle Kingdom)

Thebes

1550 BC (New Kingdom)

Vega Deneb Vega Deneb Vega Deneb Vega Deneb

Azimuth at Rising 39° 48°30′ 38°30′ 46°30′ 40°30′ 47° 44° 48°

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Appendix Table A.3.  The royal pyramids of the fourth dynasty, listed in chronological order. The data for Meidum and Abu Roash are approximate. Most data are from Lehner 1999, but see the text. Translations of the names are by the author. Place

King

Base (m)

Height (m) Slope

Meidum Dahshur south Dahshur north Giza

Snefru Snefru

144 188

92 105

Snefru

220

105

14/11 7/5 and 20/21 20/21

Khufu

230.35

146

14/11 14/11

Abu Roash Djedefra

106

67

Giza Zawiet el Arian Giza

Khafra ?-ka

215 200

144

4/3

Menkaura

102

65

5/4

Name Snefru is rising – south pyramid Snefru is rising The horizon of Khufu Djedefra is a -sehed star Khafra is great ?-ka is a star Menkaura is divine

Table A.4.  The royal pyramids of the fifth dynasty, listed in chronological order. Most data are from Lehner 1999, but see the text. Translations of the names are by the author. Place

King

Base (m)

Height (m) Slope

Saqqara

Userkaf

73

49

4/3

Abusir

Sahura

79

47

6/5

Abusir

Neferirkara

105

70

4/3

Abusir

Neferefra

65

Abusir

Niuserra

79

50

14/11

Djedkara

79

50

14/11

Unas

58

43

3/2

Saqqara? Menkauhor Saqqara south Saqqara

Name The places of Userkaf are pure The Ba of Sahura shines The Ba of Neferirkara The power of Neferefra is divine The places of Niuserra are enduring The places of Menkauhor are divine Djedkara is beautiful The places of Unas are beautiful

Appendix

241

Table A.5.  The royal pyramids of the sixth dynasty, listed in chronological order. Most data are from Lehner 1999, but see the text. Translations of the names are by the author. Place

King

Base Side

Height (m)

Slope

Saqqara

Teti

79

53

4/3

The places of Teti are stable

Pepi I

79

53

4/3

Merenra

79

53

4/3

Pepi II

79

53

4/3

The beauty of Pepi is enduring The beauty of Merenra shines The life of Pepi is enduring

Userkara Saqqara south Saqqara south Saqqara south

Name

Table A.6.  The royal pyramids of the twelfth dynasty, listed in chronological order. Original heights are unsure and slopes mostly tentative. Data are from Lehner 1999, but see also Verner 2002a. Translations of the names are by the author. Place

King

Lisht

Amenemhet I

Lisht

Senwosret I

Base Side

Height Slope

84

59

105

61

Dahshur Amenemhet II El Lahun Senwosret II Dahshur Senwosret III

106 105

49 78

Dahshur Amenemhet III Hawara Amenemhet III

105 102

75 58

Name

7/5

The places of the appearances of Amenemhet 7/6 Senwosret beholds the Two Lands Amenemhet is Provided 21/23 Senwosret is rising 3/2 The Ba of Senwosret is provided 7/5 Amenemhet is mighty 7/6 Amenemhet lives

Table A.7.  Azimuth and declination of the royal funerary temples of the New Kingdom at western Thebes, listed in chronological order. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Hatshepsut Thutmose III Amenhotep II Thutmose IV Amenhotep III Ay-Horemheb Seti I Ramesses II Merenptah Siptah-Tawosre Ramesses III

115°30' 127° 135° 133° 117° 132° 124° 131°30' and 133°30' 122°30' 132°30' 137°30'

−23° −33° 40° −38° −24°30′ −37°30′ −30°30′ −37° and −39° −29° −38° −42°

Chronology of the First Twenty Dynasties

All dates according to Baines and Malek (1981); only the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, twelfth, eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties are reported in full detail.

First Dynasty 2920–2770 BC

Narmer, Aha, Djer, Djet, Merneith, Den, Adjib, Semerkhet, Qa’a

Second Dynasty 2770–2630 BC

Hotepsekhemwy, Nebre, Ninetjer, Wenedj, Senedj, Neferkasokar, Hudjefa, Peribsen, Khasekhemwy

Third Dynasty 2630–2575 BC

Djoser 2630–2611 BC Sekhemkhet 2611–2603 BC Khaba 2603–2599 BC Huni 2599–2575 BC

Fourth Dynasty 2575–2465 BC

Snefru 2575–2551 BC Khufu 2551–2528 BC Djedefra 2528–2520 BC Khafra 2520–2494 BC Menkaura 2494–2472 BC Shepsekaf 2472–2465 BC

Neferkare,

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Chronology of the first 20 dynasties

Fifth Dynasty 2465–2323 BC

Userkaf 2465–2458 BC Sahura 2458–2446 BC Neferirkara 2446–2426 BC Shepseskara 2426–2419 BC Neferefra 2419–2416 BC Niuserra 2416–2392 BC Menkauhor 2392–2388 BC Djedkara Isesi 2388–2356 BC Unas 2356–2323 BC

Sixth Dynasty 2323–2152 BC

Teti 2323–2291 BC Userkara 2291–2289 BC Pepi I 2289–2255 BC Merenra 2255–2246 BC Pepi II 2246–2152 BC

Seventh Dynasty–Tenth Dynasty (2152–2134 BC)

Eleventh Dynasty 2134–1991 BC

Mentuhotep I, Intef I, Intef II, Intef III, Mentuhotep II, Mentuhotep III, Mentuhotep IV

Twelfth Dynasty 1991–1783 BC

Amenemhet I 1991–1962 BC Senwosret I 1971–1926 BC Amenemhet II 1929–1892 BC Senwosret II 1897–1878 BC Senwosret III 1878–1841 BC Amenemhet III 1844–1797 BC Amenemhet IV 1799–1787 BC Sobekneferu 1787–1783 BC

Chronology of the first 20 dynasties

Thirteenth Dynasty–Seventeenth Dynasty (1783–1550 BC)

Eighteenth Dynasty 1550–1307 BC

Ahmose 1550–1525 BC Amenhotep I 1525–1504 BC Thutmose I 1504–1492 BC Thutmose II 1492–1479 BC Thutmose III 1479–1425 BC Hatshepsut 1473–1458 BC Amenhotep II 1427–1401 BC Thutmose IV 1401–1391 BC Amenhotep III 1391–1353 BC Akhenaten 1353–1335 BC Smenkhkara 1335–1333 BC Tutankhamun 1333–1323 BC Ay 1323–1319 BC Horemheb 1319–1307 BC

Nineteenth Dynasty 1307–1196 BC

Ramesses I 1307–1305 BC Seti I 1306–1290 BC Ramesses II 1290–1224 BC Merenptah 1224–1214 BC Seti II 1214–1204 BC Siptah 1204–1198 BC Tawosre 1198–1196 BC

Twentieth Dynasty 1196–1070 BC

Sethnakht, Ramesses III, Ramesses IV, Ramesses V, Ramesses VI, Ramesses VII, Ramesses VIII, Ramesses IX, Ramesses X, Ramesses XI

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Notes

1.  A land for eternity 1

The so-called Deir Sitt, a mudbrick wall partly enclosing a nearby village, is a more recent building and not, at least in my view, the remains of an Early Dynastic enclosure, as is sometimes supposed. 2 Nekhen was probably the predynastic capital of Upper Egypt and in any case was one of the most important predynastic/Early Dynastic settlements. The city was the centre of the cult of a falcon god later assimilated with Horus, patron god of the kingship; nearby but on the opposite side of the Nile, the patron deity of Upper Egypt, the vulture goddess Nekhbet, was worshipped. More than a hundred years ago, a deposit at Nekhen was found containing some of the most famous works of art of Early Dynastic Egypt: the so-called scorpion’s macehead and the Narmer palette. The most ancient traces of a stable cult in Egypt, dating back to 3500 BC, have also been discovered at the edge of the desert, in the form of the foundations of a relatively huge structure labelled HK29A. Its façade was supported by four timber pillars, of which the holes excavated in the rock soil remain. 3 For the ease of the reader, the orientation data reported in this book are taken from a unique source, the Corpus Mensurarum recently published by Belmonte and Shaltout (2009); however, most of these data have also been taken independently on site by the author, and the measurements coincide within the errors. 4 Unfortunately, existing Egyptological literature does not help, since there, traditionally, orientation problems have been overlooked – if not simply ignored – to the point that one can read vague descriptions of inter-cardinal oriented buildings like the Shunet, in which reference is made (alas, “for simplicity”) to the “north side”, the “east side” and so on, clearly without any hope of understanding which side is actually being mentioned. 5 It can be easily discovered in the Egyptological literature that the orientation of Egyptian temples is mainly towards the Nile or parallel to it. This assertion is “true” for the simple reason that the vast majority of the temples do not point their rear to the river. Of the remaining available azimuths at any place, it is easy to identify roughly one-half as “parallel” and the other half as “towards”. The specific reasons for the choice of a specific azimuth for each specific temple – whether it really was governed by the Nile or by other criteria – must therefore be investigated separately. A statistical analysis of the histogram of declinations of Egyptian temples can be found in Belmonte, Shaltout and Fekri (2009).

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Notes to pages 35–67

2.  A king who looks at the stars 1

We shall become deeply acquainted with this kind of relationship starting from the fourth dynasty monuments, where their existence and deliberateness is not only indisputable but fundamental for understanding them. Leaving aside any interpretation here  – since the enclosures are anonymous  – and also allowing the possibility that some of these relationships may be casual, those related to the Ptahhotep enclosure are at any rate quite intriguing. Indeed, the northern external side of the Gisr el Mudir, when prolonged to the east, passes over the south-west corner of the second rectangular monument and the centre of the Step Pyramid, and the south-west corner of the rectangular monument is at the centre of a circle which passes over seven points. These are four points at the Djoser complex (the outer north-west corner of the dry moat, the north-west corner of the complex, the centre of the Step Pyramid, the shaft of the southern tomb of the complex), the south-west corner of the unfinished pyramid of Sekhemkhet, and the middle of the southern half of the Gisr el Mudir. 2 The astronomical content of the Pyramid Texts is far from being completely decoded (Mazavelia 2006). In particular, the identification and the role of the moon and the planets is still the subject of debate. Recently, an interpretation which puts a special emphasis on the role of the ecliptic has been proposed (Krauss 1997). According to this interpretation, the imperishable stars are all those stars located north of the ecliptic which can be seen at least for some time every single night (while, of course, the circumpolar stars are visible during the whole night), and the Winding Waterway is the ecliptic itself. I tend to disagree with this interpretation because it requires a series of abstractions. The ecliptic is in fact, of course, an imaginary circle in the sky and cannot be seen. As a matter of fact, the ancient Egyptians seem to have always preferred explicit messages and images. 3 The Julian calendar, or better “Julian count” since the calendar itself was put in use by Julius Caesar, is actually the easiest relatively reliable solar calendar to have been elaborated (Hannah 2009); with respect to the true length of the solar year, it loses one day every 134 years.

3. The lords of the horizon 1

While the Seila monument is soundly attributed to the king, the Meidum one is attributed to Snefru only on indirect evidence, since there is no contemporary source mentioning him (or others) as the builder, but only inscriptions left in much later times. This has prompted considerable debate among scholars, as some tend to credit Snefru’s predecessor, Huni, with being the original builder of a project later changed and finished by Snefru. However, in my view, there is no doubt that the project of Seila was conceived together with that of Meidum, so that Snefru is most likely to have been originally responsible for both. 2 The other unique existing pyramid with such an arrangement of the blocks is a somewhat enigmatic monument located in Greece, at Hellenico (Theocaris and Liritzis 1997; Theocaris et al. 1996). 3 For instance, according to these estimates, it took less than 15 days to lay out the first course of the Red Pyramid. Since the surface of the first course is about 48,000 square metres, this means – allowing into the bargain one square metre per block surface – a rate of some two blocks per minute, labouring 24 hours a day. 4 It has been suggested that this pyramidion was prepared for the Bent Pyramid before the alleged decision to modify its slope (Rossi 1999). This object, however, has actually been found near the Red Pyramid.

Notes to pages 74–93 5

It is sometimes said that this inclination – as well as the very close angles which prevail in almost all descending passages of the pyramids – is symbolic and points to the northern stars. Certainly the position of the entrance on the north side, typical of all Old Kingdom pyramids, stems from this motive. However, the angle corresponds fairly well to the very simple slope 1/2, and its repetition during several centuries of pyramid construction shows that it did not aim at any precise “stellar” connotation. 6 Perhaps by chance, in choosing this alternate solution, Khufu’s architects created a structure which, when viewed in section, resembles the hieroglyph -Djed, a very ancient (at least first dynasty) symbol of stability, which would later come to be associated with Osiris. 7 The internal structure of the Great Pyramid also contains a well shaft connecting the Grand Gallery with the descending passage. This well was most likely used as an exit when the plugs were slid down until they blocked off the corridor. 8 There exists another value of the slope of this shaft, also given by Gantenbrink, of 32°36′, which should refer to a lower section of the channel. The argument given here about tolerance clearly has to be applied in both cases, so I shall not claim a high accuracy in the first case or a failed alignment in the second. 9 Since 45° is within the range of heights that the sun reaches at Giza at culmination, one might also be forgiven for wondering about a solar orientation for the southern shaft (Hawass 1993); however, the shaft does not seem to point to any (recognisable) special date of the year since culmination of the sun at 45° at Giza occurred in late October and mid-February, dates which have only a weak connection with the beginning of the Peret and Shemu seasons in Khufu’s time. 10 For instance, the idea that they were built “for symmetry” (Dormion 2004) or that they must have been planned using the “Seked” measure, leading to inconsistencies in the timing of the astronomical targets (Wall 2007), or finally that they were related in some way to the “cosmic waters” (Sakovitchj 2005). 11 Interestingly, the symbolic function for which the Queen’s Chamber was devised and built is also backed up by the discovery of three items found in 1872 in one of the shafts, probably the south one. These are a wooden bar (today lost), a small greenstone ball and a small, forked metal hook, today at the British Museum. The hook resembles the forked instrument employed in the ceremony of the Opening of the Mouth, while the stone might be a hand-hammer tool used for smoothing. It could also be, however, the weight of a plumb line. If so, then it might be tempting to interpret the hook as a sighting tool, perhaps originally mounted on the stick. In this case, the whole set might be the oldest known example of a Merkhet, the instrument employed by the Egyptians for performing astronomical measurements (Section 2.1 of Box 2). 12 A Sphinx statuette recovered at Abu Roash is sometimes suggested as a precursor, but in my opinion the style of this statuette clearly shows it is a much later work. 13 It has been shown that the use of a simply improved version of this device – based on a sighting vane – to observe the two circumpolar stars and fix the azimuth at the moment when one star is directly above the other can give an accuracy of up to ±1′ (Kolbe 2008). 14 Interestingly, the data for the Bent Pyramid and the Red Pyramid also are separated by 3′, reinforcing the idea of contemporaneity in the planning of these two monuments. However, the deviation of 9′ for the Red Pyramid comes from unpublished material (see Spence 2000), and we would benefit from a new measurement. I have tried to perform this with a GPS at the east corners, which were cleaned of sand in summer 2010 for a mapping of the area, but – alas – the accuracy of my instrument turned out to be no match for the fourth dynasty standards.

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Notes to pages 94–119 15

The Pharaohs were identified by the royal titulary, a set of names which, starting from the fifth dynasty, stabilised to as much as five. It is easy to identify them in official inscriptions because each one is coupled to a specific hieroglyph; furthermore, the last two names were always written in the so-called cartouche, an oval with a vertical line at one end. A standard royal titulary is composed by the name Horus, the oldest of the official names, representing the king as the living god Horus; the name Nebti, representative of the king as the point of balance of the united land; the “golden Horus name”, of somewhat enigmatic significance; the prenomen, identifying the monarch as king of Upper and Lower Egypt; and the nomen, introduced by the title “son of Ra”. During the Middle Kingdom, proper names became recursive. One example will be of help. In the eighteenth dynasty, many kings are called Amenhotep. However, the king we call Amenhotep II of course did not put a number two after his name; to distinguish him in a text is sufficient cause to look for another of his official names. 16 According to some nineteenth-century maps, the Khufu causeway continued, with a bend, beyond the zone of point O for some 350 metres. For this reason, some authors place the valley temple farther to the north-east (today, only scant remains of the foundation of a building, perhaps a small chapel, can be seen in one of the gardened areas of the traffic islands which are located between the lanes of the main Nazlet el Saman road). Nevertheless, if this were the case, then the presence of the massive fourth dynasty building unearthed by Messiha along the causeway becomes difficult to explain. Possibly the further sector of the causeway was a road that once led to the temple from the north-east, crossing the inhabited settlement recently discovered. In any case, for our purposes what really matters is that the area of point O played a distinct role in the geometry of the complex. 17 It might well be that the planners of this gigantic project conceived it also as a sort of calendrical device. However, since the motion of the setting sun at the horizon does not occur at a constant rate (it is slower near the solstices and faster near the equinoxes), the azimuths of the causeways do not correspond to the intermediate dates between equinoxes and solstices but to dates which fall more closely towards the equinoxes (around 19 October/21 February and 20 April/19 August). Together with equinoxes and solstices, they thus give a sort of geometrical division of the course of the setting sun during the year. 18 Although the name is usually written syllabically, the identification of the two readings is certain beyond any doubt; the sign of the sun between two peaks came into use at least from the middle fifth dynasty and would become synonymous with the king’s tomb in the New Kingdom. 19 The Akhet hierophany at Giza was recently documented in a CNN documentary which is available at http://backstory.blogs.cnn.com/2011/09/01/the-revealer-revealed/.

4.  A mirage from Heliopolis 1

Giza is also due south of Letopolis, modern Ausim (Goyon 1977). Letopolis was at that time a cult center of Horus. However, the importance of the site during the fourth dynasty is doubtful. 2 I take this opportunity to thank the Egyptian Ministry of State for Antiquities ­(former Supreme Council) for allowing me in the course of the years access to several sites mentioned in this book which were closed for restoration or excavation purposes.

Notes to pages 122–149

5. Sons of the sun god 1

Within ½° as measured by the author with a precision magnetic compass; a theodolite measurement would be advisable to ascertain the actual deviation. 2 Suggested connections to the sun, which of course fully illuminates the monument each day of the year, or connections with the arrangement of Djoser’s complex, if any, are in my view quite subordinate to topographical considerations in explaining the position of the temple, especially if we consider that an offering chapel was in any case situated at the centre of the eastern base of the pyramid. 3 It cannot be considered as an approximate orientation to Heliopolis, as Lehner (1999) suggests, since the azimuth of Heliopolis from Abu Gorab is too different. Another rather unlikely hypothesis which has been put forward to explain this orientation takes into account the orientation of the causeway of the other known sun temple, that of Niuserra, which bears 46° of azimuth (Wells 1990). According to this hypothesis, the causeways and valley temples were oriented towards regions of the sky where a relevant number of stars would have successively risen before dawn during the year. These stars, working as Decans of the last hour of the night, would assure the correct timing for sacrifices that took place at dawn in the temple. Yet the theory is clearly based on too few data (only two orientations) and, furthermore, it simply identifies which regions of the eastern horizon contained a greater number of visible rising stars, regardless of their possible presence in known decanal lists. 4 In fact, Neferirkara’s tomb was also larger than that of Menkaura. However, the quality of construction was not comparable. It started as a six-step pyramid (still visible today), to be enlarged later and filled up; the enlargement was never finished. The apparently exaggerated distance of the pyramid from that of Sahura is due to the necessity of avoiding a slope located in between (Krejci 2001). 5 If the line is further elongated to the north-west for about 6 kilometres, it also intersects the south-west corner of the third dynasty pyramid and the centre of the Great Pit in Zawiet el Arian, but this may be due to chance. 6 Several effects have to be taken into account. First of all, the horizon has to be considered, which is, anyhow, flat when viewed from distant Heliopolis down to the azimuth of Abu Gorab/Abusir, where the Cairo citadel blocks the view but also defines the last line of interest here. Second are the atmospheric effects: refraction and extinction. Refraction is negligible at the latitude of Cairo, while extinction may have a considerable influence (Schaefer 1986). In optimal conditions, however, extinction is negligible for stars with negative magnitudes and can be assumed equal to 1° for stars with magnitude around 1.

6. The lost pyramid 1

The beautifully carved hieroglyph inscription visible there was left by Prince Khaemwaset, son of Ramesses II and high priest at Memphis, who oversaw a restoration program of the Memphite necropolis around 1250 BC. 2 Currently we do not know whether one or both such dates might have been of special importance for the king and why; the sunset along the same alignment to the west occurs around 1 March, which would have been the date of New Year’s Day around 2304 BC and Teti’s accession year in some chronologies (Sholtait, Belmonte and Fekri 2007b), but a connection between an Akhet sunrise and the symmetric sunset some 40 days earlier strikes me as being excessively intricate for the way of thinking of the ancient Egyptians.

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Notes to pages 151–212 3

Some meridian alignments already existed; for instance, the valley temple of the Bent Pyramid is aligned with the Step Pyramid, but it is not in direct view due to the slope of the terrain between Saqqara and Dahshur.

7. Renaissance at the winter solstice 1

Dieter Arnold, personal communication to the author. To distinguish Hawara from El-Lahun, it is necessary to climb the modern sand dunes which surround the area of the subsidiary pyramids there.

2

8.  A valley for the kings 1

The reader is advised that the question of who the founder of the Valley of the Kings was is a delicate and complex Egyptological issue, of which only some aspects can be discussed here. 2 It is easy to find in the literature the idea that the Egyptians had a concept of “symbolic cardinal directions” connected to the direction of the Nile. Such alleged symbolic directions should correspond to the local flow of the river; for instance, “local north” should coincide with the downstream direction of the Nile irrespective of whether it really flows south to north or is locally skewed in relation to the meridian. “Local directions” are sometimes advocated in explaining orientations of some monuments and also in interpreting texts where geographical indications are given, in particular the Abbott Papyrus. However, I have never come across any convincing proof that such symbolic directions really existed. The confusion probably originates from the perfectly natural fact that anyone travelling downstream on the Nile, if asked, would say that he is travelling “north”, and indeed the Egyptians were no exception. This is far different from giving any notion of local symbolic north based on the Nile flow. 3 In spite of this, however, there is no recognisable and distinct “double sign” at the horizon on which an Akhet hierophany at sunset could be observed. 4 Senenmut’s tomb contains a detailed representation of the firmament as the Egyptians knew it and thus demonstrates – some 1500 years before Vitruvius – the fact, which comes as no surprise to us, that the architects of ancient Egypt, like their later Roman counterparts, were well versed in astronomy. 5 There are, however, documented cases in which the procession appears to have taken place on the river, and therefore in the upstream direction, with real barks sailing, aided by gangs of men dragging ropes along the banks of the Nile.

9. The Horizon of the Aten 1

Stelae A, B and F are located on the west bank, all the others on the east bank. Of the latter, stelae J, K, L and M are on the crag to the south of the city (L is a small tablet very near M); stelae N, P, Q, H, R and S flank the sides of the wadi which enters the Amarna bay from the south-east; stelae U and V are on the cliffs north of the wadi, where the tomb of the king is located; and, finally, stela X marks the northernmost point of the bay. Two of the stelae went unnoticed by Petrie: stela X was recorded by Norman Davis in 1901 and stela H by Helen Fenwick in 2006. Perhaps other stelae have been destroyed and their scanty remains still await rediscovery. 2 The king’s tomb is fairly similar to previous royal tombs in the Valley of the Kings, but its annexes contain additional burial chambers for other royal family members (the

Notes to pages 212–226 best-preserved chamber is that of a princess, Meketaten). From the materials recovered, it can be concluded that the king was buried here, but the tomb was desecrated very early on and the mummy was moved away; perhaps it is the one contained in a famous coffin – defaced and with an erased cartouche – found in the Valley of the Kings in tomb KV55.

10. The last of the greats 1

The find of an ostracon containing a hieratic inscription “with an account of the transport of stone for the building” and the alleged original name of the Osireion (which should be “Seti is serviceable to Osiris”) was reported by Frankfort (1926). There is, however, no guarantee that the subject is not the Seti temple. 2 Dating of the Osireion to Seti I also relies on the discovery of dovetails joining adjacent blocks and bearing the Pharaoh’s cartouche (Frankfort 1926). These dovetails are, however, made of granite, and it is therefore obvious that they have a symbolic function (dovetails must allow for an – albeit minimal – elasticity, and making them of the same material as the stones they tail is almost useless). Thus one might also think that the Seti I architects added the dovetails (or replaced the pre-existing copper ones which proved to be unnecessary), although it is claimed that some are in too recessed a part to have been added. A stratigraphic dating is not possible because the building was subject to considerable upheaval and was used as a quarry in later times. 3 The first regnal year of Ramesses II has been recently very well dated to 1279 BC, while the chronology used in this book would give 1290 BC. 4 Unfortunately, such phenomena are traditionally overlooked in the Egyptological literature; for instance, one reads – in an otherwise authoritative book – that “Dates of these occurrences are not as important as is often thought, as the phenomenon would occur with any south-facing structure of this type at some point or points of the year” (Wilkinson 2003). This statement is confused and partly wrong, as the reader can verify, but it is the consequence of an attitude which I have repeatedly noted in archaeology, the idea that considering orientations only in general terms (temples “facing west”, tombs “facing south-east”, and so on) is sufficient. It is, on the contrary, quite impossible to grasp the astronomical content of a monument – if indeed there is any – without considering azimuths with an initial accuracy of at least, say, 1° (to be progressively increased if necessary, as of course is the case for the fourth dynasty pyramids). 5 The “millions of years” terminology was not exclusive to these temples only; one example is the Akhmenu at Karnak.

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Index

Abbott papyrus, 173, 185, 252 Abu Simbel, 223–225 Abu Sir, 131, 135, 140 Abu Gurab, 120, 128–133, 140 Abu Roash, 90, 115–118, 141 Abydos, 10, 14–18, 20, 23–24, 31–35, 37, 42, 52, 69, 72, 109, 170, 172–174, 183–184, 190, 213, 218–223, 231, 233–236 Ahmose, 184–185, 234–235 Akhet Horizon, 44, 97–101, 140, 149, 173, 201–202, 208, 212–213, 233–235 Season, 53–54 Akhet-­Aten, see Amarna Akhenaten, 189, 205–216 Al Nilam, 80 Al Nitak, 80 Amarna, 189, 208–219 Amduat, 173–174, 188 Amenemhet I, 165–168, 170 Amenemhet II, 168–169, 180–182 Amenemhet III, 86, 170–171, 174, 175, 183 Pyramid, Dahshur, 180–181 Pyramid, Hawara, 170, 172, 176–178, 180–182 Amenhotep I, 185–186, 234 Amenhotep II, 200–202

Amenhotep III, 193, 203–207, 212, 229 Amenhotep IV, see Akhenaten Amenemopet, 193, 198 Amun, 159, 164–165, 184, 188, 191–193, 197–198, 203, 206–207, 219, 224–229 Anubis, 24, 94, 173, 190 Arcturus, 27, 46, 142, 197, 223 Armant, 161–162 Aten, 207–217 Bab el Hosan, 33, 164 Buto, 124–125, 217 Canopus, 27, 47, 142, 156 Coffin Texts, 167–168 Colossi of Memnon, 204–205 Dahshur, 61, 66, 69, 72, 100, 123, 166, 168, 175, 179–181, 234 Decans, 19, 55–56, 120, 142 Deir el Bahri, 163, 184–185, 188, 191, 225 Deir el Medina, 185, 187 Djedefra, 90, 92, 94, 115, 118, 127, 139, 141, 156, 234 Djoser, 37–42, 49–51, 69, 123, 145, 148, 154, 172, 174, 248n.1 Djed, 190, 249n.6 Djew, 24, 69, 97, 173

270

Index Djedkara Isesi, 130, 145, 150, 152 Draco, 29, 46, 52 Dra Abu el Naga, 184, 186 Dubhe, 50–52 El Qurn, 163, 172, 188, 225 Festival of the Valley, 195, 229 Fomalhaut, 120, 142 Geb, 106 Giza, 11, 53, 71–86, 88, 91, 93–116, 121, 130, 134–135, 141, 148, 155, 156–157, 169, 200–201, 212–213, 221 Gisr el Mudir, 34–35, 40, 51, 53 Hatshepsut, 164, 191–195, 197, 205, 228–229 Hatshepsut Temple, 163–164, 191–192, 229 Heliopolis, 19–20, 41, 69, 105–111, 113, 118, 120, 127–132, 134, 138–143, 156–157, 204, 234, 250n.1, 251n.3, 251n.6 Hetep, 63, 138, 199 Hetepheres, 72 Hierakonpolis, 16, 19, 35, 61, 124 Hor-­em-­akhet, 200, 202 Horizon formula, 107 Imhotep, 41 Inter-­cardinal orientation, 18–20, 23, 109, 141, 156, 190, 197–198, 222–223, 231, 233–236, 247n.4 Isis, 11, 47, 56, 106, 162, 219 Karnak, 20, 161, 164–165, 184–185, 188, 192–200, 203, 207, 223, 228–230, 234–235 Ka, 12, 40, 64, 93, 157, 196–197, 226 Khafra, 86, 88–89, 94, 99, 111, 127 Pyramid, 83–89, 92–96, 101, 111, 114, 119, 129, 132, 147, 155

Khaf-­khufu, 94, 99 Khasekhemwy, 15–16, 23–24, 35–36, 236 Khentiamentiu, 15–16, 31 Khentkaues I, 123, 126, 134, 221 Khnum, 72, 77, 201 Kochab, 51–52, 81, 91–92, 237 Khufu, 70, 72, 94, 100, 108, 110, 115, 126–127, 201, 203, 205, 249n.9 Pyramid, 71–83, 88–90, 93, 95, 99, 100, 105–106, 108–110, 114, 132, 156, 166, 212, 249n.5, 250n.16 Letopolis, 250 Lisht, 78, 166, 183, 200 Lahun, 169–170, 181–183 Luxor Alley of the Sphinxes, 20, 194–195, 198 Luxor Temple, 193–198, 227, 229 Maat, 10, 123, 128, 158, 179–180, 199, 206, 233 Mastaba el Faraun, see. Shepsekaf Medamud, 161, 209 Medinet Habu, 194, 225, 228, 230–231, 236 Meidum, 57–63, 77, 84, 89–90, 103, 166, 182, 248n.1 Memnon Colossi, 204–205 Memphis, 9–10, 18, 29, 31–33, 38–39, 69, 104, 125–130, 193, 234 Menkauhor, 129, 139–140, 145, 148–150 Menkaura, 121, 134 Pyramid, 83, 90, 105–106, 109–115, 122, 156, 167 Mentuhotep II, 33, 161, 163, 229 Mentuhotep Temple, 33, 161, 163–164, 234

Index Mentuhotep III, 161, 164 Merenptah, 219, 229–230 Merenra, 43, 151–154, 156 Meridian orientation, 18–19, 34, 52, 60, 151–154, 156, 179–180, 234, 236, 252n.3 Merkhet, 55, 92, 249n.11 Meskhetyu, 45–46, 50, 52, 56, 91–92 Milky Way, 19–20, 48, 109, 114, 141, 197 Minor step pyramids, 61 Mintaka, 80, 114 Mizar, 91, 97 Nabta Playa, 56 Narmer, 15, 247n.2 Neferefra, 129, 134–137, 139, 155 Neferirkara, 129–130, 132, 134–137, 139, 155, 251n.4 Neferti prophecy, 168 Nefertiti, 207, 209–210 Niuserra, 129–130, 136–140, 145, 148, 155, 156, 199, 251n.3 Nut, 13, 48, 106 Opening of the mouth, 12, 46, 49, 198, 249n.11 Opet, 195–198, 206, 229 Orientation pattern, 18 Osireion, 219–222, 253n.1, 253n.2 Osiris, 11, 24, 31, 44, 46–48, 56, 106, 108, 167, 170–173, 190, 195, 215, 217, 221, 223, 227, 235, 249n.4, 253n.1 Pepy I, 43, 68, 150–154, 156 Pepy II, 43, 152, 154–156 Petrie’s Tomb 621, 183 Ptah, 39, 219, 224, 229–230 Ptahotep enclosure, 34–35, 248n.1 Ptahshepses, 137 Pyramid Lepsius n1, 118 Pyramid Lepsius n25, 150

271 Pyramid Lepsius n29, 145, 150 Pyramid Lepsius n25, 183 Pyramid of Seila, 57–58, 60, 182, 248n.1 Pyramid Texts, 14, 19, 42–51, 70, 78–82, 98, 106, 108, 142, 150–151, 153, 156, 166–167, 173, 190, 217, 248n.2 Ra, 47, 94, 108–109, 125, 127–129, 164, 167, 173, 203, 205, 207 Ra Atun, 47, 106, 108 Ra Horakhty, 108, 219, 224 Ramesses II, 193–197, 221–227, 253n.3 Ramesseum Temple, 223, 226–229 Ramesses III, 225–226, 228, 236 Rhind papyrus, 102 Rigel, 47 Rigil Kent, 20, 27, 142–143 Sahura, 132–136, 139, 142, 251n.4 Saqqara, 31–36, 50, 51, 69, 100, 121, 128, 132, 145, 148, 150–157, 234 Sed Festival, 39–40, 195, 203–204, 208 Seked, 101–102, 249n.10 Sekhemkhet, 35, 51, 148, 153–154, 156, 248n.1 Senenmut, 56, 191 Senwosret I, 107, 165, 167 Senwosret II, 167, 169, 178, 181–183 Senwosret III Abydos Tomb, 24, 172–173 Pyramid, Dahshur, 170–172, 177–181 Serabit el Khadim, 230 Seshat, 92, 237 Seti I, 218–229, 253n.2 Shepsekaf, 69, 121–125, 145, 217, 235

272

Index Shepseskara, 136 Shunet el Zebib, 16–18, 42 Sirius, 14, 22, 27, 47, 54–56, 81, 118, 120, 141–142, 156, 162–163, 217 Solar eclipse of 1 April 2471 BC, 125 Solar eclipse of 14 May 1338 BC, 215 Solar eclipse of 16 April 1178 BC, 144 Snefru, 57, 59 Bent Pyramid, 61–68, 79, 89, 100, 103, 174–176, 179–181, 248n.4, 249n.14, 252n.8 Red Pyramid, 61, 64–68, 77, 100, 103, 169, 179–180, 248n.3, 249n.14 Solstitial orientation, 18, 22, 64, 70, 97–98, 163–169, 188, 192, 208, 234–235 Sphinx, 85–87, 100, 126, 130, 200–202, 221, 249n.5 Step Pyramid, see Djoser Stretching of the Cord, 35, 92–93, 213, 236–237 Teti, 44, 69, 123, 148–150, 155, 157 Thebes, 18, 161–162, 166, 184, 188, 206, 209 Thoth Hill, 161–163, 189, 209

Thutmose I, 187, 191, 200 Thutmose II, 191 Thutmose III, 174, 186, 188, 191, 199 Thutmose IV, 202–203 Tod, 161–162 Udjat, 174, 190 Umm el Qaab, 14–15, 24, 31–32, 37, 172, 221, 223, 234 Unas, 34, 42–43, 102–103, 145–148, 150, 153–156 Upuaut, 82 Ursa Major, see Meskhetyu Ursa Minor, 46, 50, 52, 56 Userkaf, 125–140, 145, 147–148, 153–156 Userkara, 148–150, 153–155 Valley of the Kings, 12, 172–173, 185–187, 191, 206, 215, 219, 225, 235, 252n.1 Vega, 20, 26, 196 Westcar Papyrus, 126–129, 168 Zawyet el Arian Great Pit, 90, 118–120, 130, 134, 141–142, 156, 251n.5 Layer Pyramid, 51, 119