Then and Now: Egypt's Story

Then and Now

Then and Now

Egypt’s Story

Hussein Shabka

Washington, DC

Copyright © 2017 by Hussein Shabka

New Academia Publishing, 2018

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017958874

ISBN 978-0-9981477-5-8 paperback (alk. paper)

To Margaret for her immeasurable help and support

An unraveling of the threads, the Egyptian weft, of our sons and our grandchildren’s heritage. May they keep it close to their hearts.

Of Egypt however I shall make my report at length because, it has wonders more in number than any other land, and works too it has to show as much as any land, which are beyond expression great.

Herodotus circa 484 – 425/413 BCE

it [Egypt] is a wasteland

President Hosni Mubarak 1928–

Why do the senators sit there without legislating?

Because the barbarians are coming today.

What laws can the senators make now?

Once the barbarians are here, they’ll do the legislating.

Alexandrian poet Constantine P. Cavafy 1863–1933

Contents

Note on Transliteration

Acknowledgements

Foreword

Timeline

Chapter 1. Religion and the Rhythm of Life in Pharaonic Egypt

Chapter 2. Loss of Independence

The Last Pharaoh; The Break with the Past

Chapter 3. The Point of No Return: Arabs at the Gates

The Conquest; Setting the Tone; The Institutionalization of Misrule; Instability; The Mamluks and the Ottomans

Chapter 4. The Socio-Cultural Legacy of Subjugation

From Gleaming Marble to Devastation and Wretchedness; Coercion as the Only Foundation of Rule; Dual Calendars; Changing Demographics; Religious Conversion by Taxation; Women and Their Role in Society; The Law as a Basis of Social Organization; Work, Temporal Orientation, and Interpersonal Relationships

Chapter 5. The First Glimpse of Modernity

Re-establishing Contact with Europe; The Promise of Change: Mohammed Ali; The Liberal Period

Chapter 6. Abolishing the Monarchy

The Coup d’état; Initial Public Sentiment; The Warning Signs; The Clash of Values

Chapter 7. A Squandered Opportunity

The Slide Towards Autocracy; The People’s Voice: Down with Liberty; On the Road to Disaster; The Resignation; Nasser’s Enduring Imprint; The Price of Personal Glory

Chapter 8. Egypt’s New Direction

The New Political Elite

Chapter 9. Realism and Reform

Sadat’s Inheritance; New Style Different Priorities; Dislodging the Old Guard; The War Front; The Preparations; The Crossing; The Peace; The Countdown to Tragedy; The Fatal Mistake; The Tragic End; Sadat’s Legacy

Chapter 10. Kleptocracy

Come the Revolution; Mubarak’s Legacy

Chapter 11. Plus Ça Change

The Ignominious End

Chapter 12. The Legacy of Seven Decades of Military Rule

Cultural Decline; In Pursuit Of Shangri La; Essence of the Imported Ideology; The Triumphant Return; Gagging The Opposition; Society Transformed; Religion and the Lure of Celebrity; The Second Bedouin Invasion

Afterword

Appendix: Gamal Abdel Nasser

Upper Egyptian Roots; Early Life; Teenage Influences; College Experience; Political Education; Governing Style; Means of Political Control; Eloquence, Charisma, and Consequences; Final Note

Notes

Glossary Terms

Select Bibliography

Note on Transliteration

Ease of use was the foremost consideration in transliteration and Arabic terms and names are generally spelt as they would be pronounced in Egypt except in cases where a certain spelling of a term is either widely used, or when a writer chose to spell his/her name in a certain way. The Arabic letter ain was denoted by a reversed apostrophe (‘) and the hamza was denoted by an apostrophe (’). The variations in the spelling of some terms such as elfagr, which is spelt Elfagr at times and el-Fagr at others, are due to variations in different sources.

Acknowledgements

I am indebted to many friends and colleagues who, over the years, provided a plethora of ideas and viewpoints that stimulated and clarified my thoughts. Specific thanks to Natasha Reatig for publishing advice and suggestions, Roy Townsend, American literature specialist, who assiduously critiqued the book and whose wide reading and areas of interest made his insights invaluable, and to sociologists Abdel-Hamid Abdel-Latif and Helen Rizzo for interrupting their vacations to read and offer valuable comments on the manuscript, my sons, Nabil and Omar, for suffering through and discussing early versions of this work, and my wife, Margaret, English literature and language specialist, who throughout the process unstintingly gave of her time as editor and critic. Her contribution has been invaluable.

Foreword

Sitting in a café in Cairo watching the world go by, I can’t help but wonder about the long term significance of what I see. Am I seeing the past through the proverbial rose-colored glasses: is there really less color, less laughter, fewer smiles, and less gaiety on the streets? Many men and women are so drably dressed that they appear to have gone out of their way to prove the inaccuracy of the view that some anthropologists subscribe to which asserts that selfadornment is a universal value that can be found in all cultures. Many young women, often holding their boyfriends’ hands, are, however, dressed in form-hugging jeans or skirts and skin-tight tops. Yet their hair is demurely covered by the now popular hegab, a seeming contradiction: clothing that leaves little to the imagination, but hair, as modesty supposedly requires, covered. It’s the fashion of the day. More bizarre sights can be seen: a hegabi in a restaurant enjoying a beer, or stores displaying the latest hegab and niqab fashion next-door to shops with their windows full of saucy bedroom attire for women.

How and why are these seemingly contradictory attitudes so commonplace on the streets? Is this the Egyptian nature at work, playing lip service to the powers that be while molding things to their liking by following fashion in a way that is acceptable? I remember the more conservative baladi women wearing the traditional Egyptian burka made of widely-spaced netting that covered nothing, and the black sheet (melaya laff) that they wrapped around themselves under the arms then over one shoulder, often so tightly that what was designed for modesty became a sexy attire. Is my memory playing tricks on me? I doubt it, but some facts are indisputable. The triangle-shaped bright-colored scarfs with their dangling sparkling sequins, called mandeel abu ooya, has been replaced with a variety of unappealing drab-colored garments. Everyone seems to have forgotten that hegabs and niqabs are a relatively recent imported fashion that dates back to around the late 1970s. Prior to that one could have scoured the streets of Cairo or Alexandria or any town and not seen a single hegabi, never mind neqabi, or a single store selling such clothing. This change in fashion is, of course, reflective of a much deeper conservative trend in Egyptian society. So the question arises: Where did this all begin? How was a nation of jovial, fun-loving people transformed into what they have become today?

Researching and writing this book has been an intense journey for me. Beginning as an attempt to understand why so many societies are moving forward and solving their problems while Egypt seems to be not only standing still but going back, it took me back not only through the times of my own recollections but also through those of my forbears.

When Nasser came to power in 1952, I was a boy enjoying riding his bicycle around the tree-lined streets of Zamalek, Cairo, past the graceful villas and the many embassies with the comings and goings of foreign diplomatic functions; stopping at a friend’s house to invite him along; and returning hellos from neighbors out for a stroll. Life was good for me, a boy from a middle-class family. From my perspective it was not so good for the farm workers and their families I saw on my visits to my grandfather’s farm, but neither was it quite as dire as some people maintain. Life on the farms followed a soothing, almost mesmerizing, rhythm that paralleled the flooding and ebbing of the Nile waters. Crops grew with a minimum of human effort in the silt-rich soil, families worked the fields together, and food was plentiful. Strolling along one of the many irrigation canals there, I would hear the laughter of the workers in the fields, return the cheerful greetings of men, women and children alike, and be lulled by the undulating gait of the peasant girls and women performing what was to me the amazing feat of balancing pots or huge bundles on their heads. That slow, melodic, swaying gait was as timeless and flowing as the Nile and the twinkle of mischief in their eyes was like droplets from the river’s flowing waters caught in a beam of sunlight. They went about their daily tasks shoulders relaxed, teasing each other—and me when I was around, eyes bright with a joie de vivre that seemed to say live and let live, no matter the situation. Urban Egyptians largely shared that live and let live approach, and perhaps the most commonly used word was ma‘lish, never mind, to almost any problem.

As a young boy I had no inkling of the future implications of the coup, of Nasser’s era, or of his foreign adventures or nationalization plans. But then again I don’t think any Egyptian did.

More than a decade into Nasser’s rule, I returned to Cairo, after studying in England, with my English wife and two sons. By this time the full impact of Nasser’s misguided policies and squandering of national resources was becoming clear. Daily life was fraught with problems. Limitations on imports and a breakdown in the domestic means of production and the agricultural sector resulted in periodic shortages of consumer goods as well as basic staples. Meat was rationed and increasingly beyond the means of more and more Egyptians; sugar and oil were rationed; people lined up to buy chicken—when it was available. Cornflakes were a luxury sold on the black market. The country was falling apart. The grand architecture of Zamalek and downtown Cairo had begun to look more like neglected ruins. The city had become permanently grimy, the government corrupt. The atmosphere grew more and more apprehensive and repressive. I found myself drawing a blank when I tried to remember why I had brought my wife and children here to live, so in the early 1970s we left.

After living abroad for over three decades, I returned to find superficial ‘improvements.’ The shops were full of every variety of consumer goods. Fast food chains such as McDonalds and KFC offered an alternative to traditional street food to those who could afford their prices. Everyone in the country seemed to have a mobile phone, and the rates of motor vehicle ownership soared, but the traces of problems and signs of decay were easily observed. The city is pretty much permanently at a standstill with undirected traffic. It’s not uncommon to see a live electrical wire springing out from the wall of a nineteenth-century French design building, now in noticeable disrepair and sometimes causing great hazard when the occasional piece of masonry dislodges itself and falls to the pavement. More telling still and profoundly disturbing is the change in Egyptians themselves. As an Egyptian I know that the live-and-let-live attitude is deeply embedded in the psyche of every Egyptian, yet it is rapidly disappearing, just as the constant stream of jokes that used to circulate throughout the population and that always served as a safety valve is drying up. The word ma‘lish, however, is not in danger of disappearing since now it is used to avoid addressing the very real problems in a society in which corruption and mismanagement are endemic and have become entrenched and institutionalized.

On my visits to Egypt during those thirty years away, I was pretty much like any other visitor. My goal was limited: to touch base with my family and the bigger picture was on the periphery of my attention. The bigger picture is not on the agenda of other visitors either; they come to Egypt to see the sites and that is what they have paid for. This is a blessing for Egypt since a significant percentage of its GNP derives from tourism. There is a telling irony in this though. What the visitor does not know is that many of those who depend on the tourist dollars for their bread and butter have learned to scorn, even despise, the very heritage that helps keep Egypt financially afloat; that some of the forbears of modern Egyptians went to great lengths over the centuries to try and wipe out the record of that ancient heritage that now supports them.

When the majority of societies excavate and proudly display their society’s artifacts, why then do so many Egyptians scorn their ancient heritage? Why does an admittedly small minority view that heritage as heathen symbols that should be destroyed? Why did a rich country like Egypt stop building monuments and grand public buildings after the end of the pharaonic era?

The visitors also do not know, of course, that less than forty years ago all three of the pyramids there on the Giza Plateau could be seen from the beginning of the Pyramid Road. No buildings or pollution haze blocked the view, the land along either side of the road was agricultural, and it was not uncommon to drive that road and have it almost to oneself from the beginning to the end. And a moonlit evening visit to the pyramids with a group of friends was a unique and magical experience.

Visitors are not alone in not knowing these facts. The majority of Egyptians today were born after the 1952 coup, and they do not know either. They have no idea why they think the way they think, why they live the way they live. Nor do they appear curious enough to ask why. For the most part they seem to live reactively, not proactively, and appear to make little or no attempt to develop themselves as independent thinkers.

And the question remains: Why?

Curiously, many Egyptians seem to recognize these traits and seem to be self-critical, but in a most peculiar way: without the slightest intention of remedying the traits or making the criticism constructive. Instead they offer various glib reasons for this state of affairs: We are lazy; it’s the system; it’s too powerful to do anything about; we just can’t organize ourselves to do anything; we need a just leader, etc., etc.

And the question remains: Why?

Both frustration and curiosity led me to the instinctive destination of most educators: the library, where I read anything that might provide the answers I sought, from politicians’ and intellectuals’ memoirs to ninth century historians. Initially I was ready to place all the responsibility on the shoulders of Nasser and his fellow 1952 coup conspirators. As I dug deeper, however, I began to find connections and causes that went further and further back in time. Initially I had no intention of addressing the worn out and seemingly unanswerable question of how the descendants of any sophisticated ancient civilization end up losing the traits of their forbears that created that ancient civilization. Yet I began to discover cause and effect connections that are traceable to Egypt’s ancient civilization. So in this book, I have set out to map the series of events that reflected and influenced social and cultural values and practices in Egypt through the centuries.

Egypt is unique given the length of the occupation it endured and the degree to which its identity was diluted. A civilized society may survive the onslaught of an invasion of a less advanced social group that would eventually be absorbed into the social fabric and become part of the conquered society, but in Egypt’s case the scale of migration of the Bedouins who brought their preliterate culture and social values with them from the Arabian Peninsula reversed this process and the indigenous population and native culture was overwhelmed by its conquerors.

Writing this book was an attempt to understand the present by peeling off the layers of the onion and finding clues to the hidden reasons for what is at the core of an Egyptian’s worldview and self-view. For Egyptians like me, the exploration can be a journey of self-revelation. For the general reader interested in the world around them and in societies that today impact their own, the journey can be illuminating.

The journey has been a roller-coaster ride of pride and despair: pride in the magnificent ancient past that as an Egyptian I can lay claim to; pride in the ability of my forbears to survive, although not unscathed, their tumultuous history; despair at our inability to withstand the seemingly relentless onslaught of negative influences still invading our borders; and despair at having no satisfying answer to: What next?

What next? It was at the core of the questions that prompted me to take this journey, and it is the question to which I found no answer. What the journey did give me, however, is the backstory that I and my fellow Egyptians share and that provides answers to why we are where we are now, today. It sheds light on but does not attempt to justify the real face of Egypt today, the paradox of wealth coupled with mismanagement that Napoleon recognized.

It is the face that is hidden from the eyes of visitors marveling at the pyramids, gazing in awe on the temple of Karnak or the tombs of our distant ancestors. While visitors cannot fail to see the surface squalor, the real face of Egypt is as surely hidden from view as the facial features of those women who now wear the full facial veil, the niqab, in Egypt’s public places. Hopefully this account will contribute to lifting that veil.

Timeline

1

Religion and the Rhythm of Life in Pharaonic Egypt

The constant interaction between a people and their physical environment plays a major role in shaping the way of life, culture, and social values of society and is particularly evident in Egypt. There the concentration of population along the narrow strip of fertile land that constitutes the Nile valley and that is bordered by an arid and unforgiving desert was a major factor in shaping ancient society. These particular features of the physical environment made the setting up of permanent settlements possible, facilitated communications and transportation between the different settlements, and provided an incentive for the eventual establishment of centralized government. It also impacted all other aspects of the pharaonic culture and social values, and after thousands of years defined Egyptians at their core. The Nile was the pivotal axis around which life in Egypt revolved and its centrality in the culture and lives of Egyptians is evidenced by the fact that before being admitted to the abode of the gods, a deceased pharaoh had to attest in his negative confession that I have never stopped [the flow of] water.¹

Order, stability, and continuity were of paramount importance to the ancient Egyptians,² who believed that the goddess Maat created the world out of confusion and disarray and that the proper observances of religious rituals honoring the gods were the only means of maintaining order.³ Disarray, disorder, and chaos were ever-living threats and perpetual dangers that the Egyptians were reminded of by the empty wastelands that surrounded their fertile valley.⁴ Egypt was an agrarian society that owed its very existence to the Nile and to its annual inundation, which regenerated and fertilized the soil. This is what gave rise to the need for a central authority with the resources needed to keep accurate records of the levels of the Nile waters and to ensure that the maintenance and dredging of the irrigation canals were carried out in a timely manner and in accordance with the crop growing cycles.

It is this absolute necessity of regularity and predictability that may well have resulted in the Egyptians’ traditional conservatism and fear of disorder and chaos.⁵ Chaos was an ever-present threat that the Egyptians sought to protect themselves from by developing the first system of centralized authority in recorded history. At the head of this authority and the bureaucracy that served it stood the pharaoh who was an absolute ruler responsible for all aspects of life. As a semi divine being, the pharaoh was the people’s only means of communicating with the gods. He controlled all of nature’s forces and interpreted and implemented the gods’ wishes, thus ensuring the provision of society’s livelihood and maintenance of the order and stability Maat had created. As the pharaoh’s legitimacy and authority stemmed from the belief that he was a living god and the preserver of Maat,⁶ his absence would have been seen as an inconceivable transgression against the goddess of order.⁷

Dating back to the Old kingdom circa 2700 BCE, and perhaps even to the pre-dynastic period about a thousand years earlier, the social structure of Egypt revolved around the pharaoh. Through him (rarely, although occasionally, her), the main social institutions: economy, religion, government, and education, were closely linked. As both god and ruler, he was the mediator between the world of humans and the world of the ever-living gods, which he joined upon his death.⁸ He was the provider of economic and political security as well as spiritual wellbeing.⁹ The vital importance and centrality of the pharaoh in Egypt’s culture cannot be overstated.

In his worldly role, the pharaoh stood at the top of the social structure and presided over every aspect of life in society and every sphere of daily existence.¹⁰ His actions and policies made the growing of crops possible. He ordered and financed the building and maintenance of the irrigation canals that watered the fields. This task was crucial to the economy because the annual flood that brought silt and rejuvenated the fertile soil also weakened the levies and dykes and clogged the irrigation canals. He employed workers and scribes to measure and record the Nile flood levels. When the flood level was high and provided an abundance of crops, the pharaoh ordered the building and stocking of warehouses to ensure against possible future shortages. During the lull in farming when the land was inundated during the annual flood of the Nile, both peasants and craftsmen were employed in public works projects: maintaining waterways and irrigation canals, building temples, pyramids, and other structures that, while dedicated to the afterlife, were viewed as inseparable parts of this life.¹¹ In addition to economic security, the pharaoh provided physical security and safety through maintaining law and order and by defending his people against marauding nomads and the invaders who inhabited the world of chaos beyond Egypt’s borders.

In this sense, the pharaoh played the role of a competent administrator as well as a benevolent father figure. Public works projects such as dredging irrigation canals were not necessary merely to ensure agricultural security but also kept people busy, productive and earning a living. The ancient monuments were huge public works projects that created a skilled economy and that additionally provided national coherence and pride. Fortunately for the ancients, a pyramid or monument was what a pharaoh required, not a horde of cash and mansions around the world.

Properly trained priests were necessary to perform religious rituals, and properly trained scribes were necessary to keep records. The pharaoh provided both training facilities and employment opportunities for both professions. Through endowing the temples and performing the appropriate rituals, he also ensured that the gods were pleased and that the Nile would, therefore, flood on time every year and bring with it the silt that fertilized the land and enabled Egypt to maintain its prosperity. The pharaoh both represented and controlled - to use Emile Durkheim’s terminology - the sacred as well as the profane domains.¹² He personified the link between the supernatural that his subjects did not understand and the familiar routine of their daily lives. Sometimes he interceded with the gods on their behalf as he did after an extended period of drought when the Nile failed to rise to its usual flood levels in seven consecutive years causing crop failures, food shortages, and widespread suffering.¹³ According to the myth preserved by a Ptolemaic inscription, the pharaoh, who might have been the Third Dynasty King Djoser, travelled to the Island of Elephantine in Upper Egypt, which housed the floodgates.¹⁴ There, he secured an audience with Khnum, the Nile god who lived there and controlled these floodgates of the Nile. Khnum told the Pharaoh that he had been less generous with his floodwaters because he was unhappy with the fact that his temples had not been properly maintained and attended.¹⁵ The Pharaoh promised to remedy the situation, and in turn, Khnum promised to open the gates.¹⁶ Upon the Pharaoh’s return, he levied new taxes and the temples were spruced up and staffed.¹⁷ The following year the river rose again as it had done before the drought and all was well again in Egypt.¹⁸

The pharaoh, therefore, was at the very core of religion and religious rituals and practices, and every aspect of the ancient Egyptian culture revolved around religion. The government, economy, law, language, literature, and worldview, were all tightly knit through religion and the pharaoh. Religion fueled, energized, and stimulated science and engineering achievements, and this interdependency between the different components of the social culture provided the basis for the wide-ranging social consensus that was the key to its durability and intransience for thousands of years.

The rhythm of life established over the millennia of pharaonic rule was disrupted at times by the numerous invaders tempted by the prosperity in the Nile valley. These less refined marauders were the nomadic Semites who, according to Egyptian mythology, inhabited the red lands,¹⁹ the vast and desolate deserts that seemed to stretch endlessly beyond the fertile valley. They were less advanced than the Egyptians in every way, and their unceasing raids on what must have seemed to them paradise on earth were a perpetual threat that the country’s rulers had to tackle. Strong pharaohs kept the raiders at bay during their reigns and often followed them beyond the borders of Egypt in the hope of discouraging future raids and maintaining peace and prosperity in the land. That ever-present threat and the manner in which the pharaohs dealt with it is shown in a relief from the First Dynasty at Abydos which depicts the gaunt figure of a Bedouin chief about to meet a violent end at the hands of his Egyptian vanquisher.²⁰ The term amu that appears to have been used to describe the Asian desert nomads is mentioned repeatedly in Egyptian records, and this relief is one of the earliest references to Bedouins.²¹ The army’s expeditions beyond the country’s borders were generally intended to punish raiders and discourage future raids rather than to take control of foreign territory, and Egypt has had roughly the same borders for 6,000 years.

When a weak pharaoh who was unable to protect his subjects from pillagers and foreign incursions sat on the throne, there was unrest and social disorder, but the impact of the invaders was generally short-lived, and society enjoyed relatively long periods of order and stability. The two notable exceptions were the Persian invasion of 525 BCE and the Hyksos, who, at a time of political turmoil and social disintegration that had left the country in the hands of several weak regional rulers, managed to take over Lower Egypt after the conquest of Memphis in 1674 BCE. The Hyksos ruled the country until Ahmos, who founded the Eighteenth Dynasty and ushered in the era of the New Kingdom, finally expelled them in 1550 BCE and might have taken some of them as slaves and put them to work as builders. While there is some debate as to the origins of these people, they are known to have been nomadic sheepherders, possibly from central Asia, the Arabian Peninsula,²² or Palestine. What is also not in doubt is that they were Semitic tribes who left no monuments or works of art that suggest an urban cultural tradition or a civilization. The Egyptians referred to them as the Hyksos, which can be translated either as shepherd kings or as captive shepherds. One of the most notable consequences of this period of subjugation to the nomadic herders was to make the Egyptians less inward looking,²³ but despite the Hyksos’ long stay in Egypt, their impact on culture seems to have been relatively minor except in the field of military techniques, such as the use of the horse-drawn chariot and composite bow. The later Persian rule lasted almost a century, with independence regained after several revolts and challenges by several princes from Lower Egypt.

Thus, there were both successes and failures in the endless struggle to protect the coveted bounty of the Nile and repel aggressors. However, the impact of the marauders on religion and social culture remained relatively minor and short lived.²⁴ Although these foreign invaders posed a perpetual threat to Egypt from the beginning of history, the fertile Nile valley provided Egyptians with food and security, and a surplus that allowed them to develop a rich and sophisticated civilization that was usually able to defend itself and keep those invaders at bay. People expected and anticipated set backs such as droughts, foreign invaders and weak pharaohs, but were confident that through proper planning their effects could be minimized and in time balance would be restored.

By ancient standards, life for the majority of the Egyptians was very good and held the promise of more joy than suffering. The ancient Egyptians were open to all of life’s pleasures, were spontaneous, and enthusiastically embraced all of the delights of life with a joi de vivre.²⁵ Socializing, parties, fashion, music, humor and wine were all part of an Egyptian’s life. The ancient Egyptians’ satisfaction with their life is also evidenced by their view of the afterlife. The afterlife that they conceived of was no more than a reproduction of life in Egypt except that it was on a grander scale. The crops were plentiful and never failed, the fish in the Nile were abundant, and the people were perpetually young, healthy, and well dressed.²⁶ For the Egyptians, the afterlife was simply eternal life in Egypt. They had no wish to leave home even after they died. That attachment to the soil still survives among contemporary Egyptians. The Egyptians’ patriotism has always tended to be expressed in simple love of the soil rather than jingoism or sloganeering.

Measured against some contemporary standards, pharaonic Egypt may certainly not have been a paradise. However, for the nomads of that age who were not lucky enough to be living in the Nile valley, paradise was precisely the term that they used to describe Egypt.²⁷ Members of the primitive cultures that existed in the harsh and punishing physical environment of the red lands were not as fortunate as the ancient Egyptians. Hunger, poverty, utter deprivation, wretchedness, and constant threats to personal security were all that the nomads had to look forward to from the day they were born to the day they died. In such an environment, life may not be as precious as in a less hostile environment, and for them leaving home was a very attractive proposition. Attachment to the barren soil was minimal to nonexistent, and the willingness to abandon home was reflected in the value system,²⁸ in which dying for a righteous cause provided both an escape from suffering and an entrance to paradise. The best that members of such cultures could hope for was that the afterlife would be somewhere other than home. Unlike that of the Egyptians, the desert nomads’ view of the afterlife was the exact opposite of what home was like. The nomads’ conception of paradise in the afterlife was almost an exact replica of life in the Nile Valley. Unsurprisingly, the hungry, as the Egyptian proverb goes, dream of the bread market.

2

Loss of Independence

Life in Egypt continued in much the same manner until the arrival of Alexander the Great. Alexander’s conquest of Egypt in 332 BCE¹ was clearly different in that, unlike some of the earlier invaders, he represented an advanced civilization, not a primitive nomadic mob. More importantly, under Alexander’s rule, the all-important link between the world of the mortals and the world of the gods was maintained.

Alexander had always sought confirmation of his belief, derived from his mother, in his own godliness as the son of Zeus, and the myth relating the path he took to get that confirmation was nothing if not spectacularly dramatic. According to legend, Alexander sought the answer from the Oracle of Delphi who advised him to take his query the famed Oracle of Siwa.² Upon conquering Egypt, Alexander set off for the oasis of Siwa in Egypt’s western desert. Today this is an eight-hour car journey through brutal desert; then it was an almost impossible twelve-day horse ride from the Mediterranean coast³ in blistering heat with no food or fresh water en route. Legend has it that the Greek force led by Alexander was lost and out of water, until a blackbird appeared. Taking the bird as an omen, Alexander followed its flight path and reached Siwa. Once there he lost no time and immediately climbed up to the temple of the Oracle where he was informed in fluent Greek that indeed he was the son of Amon, the chief deity of Egypt.

It is not hard to imagine the speed with which the story of the young handsome god’s heroic journey spread among Egypt’s population and the impact of that story. Nor is it hard to imagine the impact on Alexander himself, after a nearly fatal desert trek, of miraculously reaching the lush green of Siwa and, finally, finding his holy grail.⁴

Certainly, the tone of the relationship between the Egyptian population and their new conqueror was set. Alexander accepted Egyptian religious beliefs and followed the traditional protocols that the pharaohs had observed for centuries. He secured the support of the priesthood and the acceptance of the general population by demonstrating through his deeds and actions that he was indeed the living god and the lawful ruler of Egypt. In the temple of Ptah in the city of Memphis, he made appropriate offerings to the god Apis,⁵ and he visited other temples, making offerings and sacrifices to Zeus-Amon and to the god Cyrene. He built a temple to the chief god, Amon, and issued instructions for the proper maintenance and provisions of the temple complexes.⁶ He traveled to Luxor where he visited the sprawling Karnak temple and ordered repairs to the temple of Thotmes II to be carried out,⁷ and he had himself depicted on the walls adorned with the appropriate Egyptian royal symbols and regalia.⁸ He then ordered plans for a new city to be built on the Mediterranean coast and approved those plans for the city of Alexandria before setting off to conquer India, where he died at the age of thirty-two.

Upon Alexander’s death, one of his ablest generals, who had been appointed satrap (governor) of Egypt, brought Alexander’s body back to Alexandria to be buried in the city. He ruled from Alexandria, which replaced Memphis as the capital of Egypt in 320 BCE and developed into a large city of trade, learning, and luxury. The general, Ptolemy I, continued the pharaonic king-god tradition,⁹ took the Egyptian name Meryamon Setepenre (Beloved of Amon, Chosen of Ra), and established the Ptolemaic dynasty, which ruled Egypt for more than three centuries and was the last dynasty that ruled using the title of Pharaoh.

The Last Pharaoh

One of the major accomplishments of the Ptolemaic dynasty was the successful blending of the Hellenic and Pharaonic cultures and the preservation of the internal harmony and interdependence of the components of the social structure in Egypt. By the time Cleopatra was born,¹⁰ Alexandria had become what Diodorus of Sicily described in the first century BCE as the first city of the civilized world.¹¹ It had grown into one of the largest, if not the largest metropolis in the world, and was the world’s scientific and intellectual capital. Destined to be the last pharaoh, Cleopatra VII (69-30 BCE), the sixteenth ruler of the Ptolemaic dynasty, was only seventeen when she ascended the Egyptian throne and reigned as Queen Philopator and Pharaoh from 51 to 30 BCE. As a child, this remarkable and astute woman had witnessed a steady decline of Ptolemaic power, which coincided, with the rise of the Roman Empire’s power. She witnessed the defeat of her guardian, Pompey, by Julius Caesar in a duel, and saw vast regions fall into the grip of the Roman Empire. The Ptolemies, who earlier had had the foresight to ally themselves with the Romans and conclude a pact that endured for two centuries, were steadily losing ground to that newly emerging superpower that was eventually declared guardian of the Ptolemaic Dynasty. Cleopatra’s father, Ptolemy XII, who was not one of the more memorable pharaohs, had squandered much of Egypt’s wealth and influence, and had found himself having to pay tribute to the Romans to keep them at bay.

Nevertheless, Alexandria was still a great seat of learning and unequalled in its beauty, wealth, luxury, and grandeur.¹² The city contained thousands of private luxurious stately residences and magnificent public buildings. The steps leading down to the royal port were marble, the waterfront was long and lined with magnificent buildings which housed schools, public buildings and halls, and the library with its vast collection of literary and scientific books and manuscripts which numbered in the hundreds of thousands. ¹³ The city was also home to the Temple of Serapis that the Roman historian Ammianus Marcellinus described in superlative terms:

Its splendour is such that mere words can only do it an injustice but its great halls of columns and its wealth of lifelike statues and other works of art make it, next to the Capitol, which is the symbol of the eternity of immemorial Rome, the most magnificent building in the whole world. It contained two priceless libraries.¹⁴

Cleopatra had become co-regent of Egypt at the age of seventeen following the death of her father, and ruled jointly with her ten-year-old brother Ptolemy XIII. She proved to be an able administrator who brought peace and prosperity to a country that her father had left bankrupt¹⁵ and plagued by civil war and destabilizing palace intrigue. She regained Egypt’s position as second only to Rome in wealth and power.¹⁶ She was an intelligent political strategist who spoke several foreign languages, had learned to read hieroglyphs,¹⁷ and was well aware of the absolute necessity of handling Rome delicately if she was to keep her throne and maintain the independence of Egypt. She seems to have been cognizant of the fact that Rome was beginning to have designs on Egypt and becoming increasingly tempted by its wealth and lucrative trade routes.¹⁸ When Julius Caesar came to visit Alexandria in 47 BCE, Cleopatra, in the midst of a power struggle with her brother’s allies in the royal court who, led by Theodotus, were plotting to overthrow her, was in Thebaid where she had managed to flee with some of her supporters. According to legend she devised a bold and imaginative plan to smuggle herself into the royal palace, rolled up in a rug, to meet with Caesar and managed to charm him and convince him that it was in his interest to form an alliance with her.

The divinity of the ruler and its significance was certainly something that the politically astute Cleopatra fully appreciated. The Ptolemies had continued the Egyptian tradition of god kings, and ancient texts referred to Cleopatra III as Isis Great Mother of the Gods.¹⁹ The father of Cleopatra VII had been depicted as a god on coins and referred to as both king and god in records and proclamations. ²⁰ Ever since she was a child, Cleopatra had been depicted on temple walls as a goddess and daughter of Isis,²¹ and she never doubted her divinity.²² As a shrewd stateswoman, Cleopatra later capitalized on her exalted status as a living god while maneuvering to maintain Egypt’s independence. She invited Caesar to accompany her on an extended two-month trip down the Nile to visit temples and receive homage from the priesthood. She obviously hoped to impress him with the fact that while he may be the ruler of an empire, she was a goddess. When the couple married later both Egypt and Cleopatra’s throne now seemed secure. Coins were struck depicting her as Aphrodite-Isis carrying her and Caesar’s son who was depicted as Horus-Eros.²³ The birth of Caesarion was also recorded on the walls of temples in Thebes, where she was depicted as the mother of Ra the sun god.²⁴ Her position as the living goddess and ruler of Egypt was secure and unchallenged.²⁵

It must have seemed like a perfect state of affairs with advantages for everyone. Cleopatra kept her kingdom. Caesar sired a god. And Rome benefited from the knowledge of the Alexandria court scholars and from its close contact with an advanced civilization such as Egypt’s. Rome’s adoption of the Julian calendar, for example, on which our calendar today is based, dates to this period and was implemented under the supervision of one of Cleopatra’s court scholars.²⁶

The situation changed drastically when Caesar was assassinated on the Ides of March in 44 BCE and the empire was split between Mark Anthony, who took the eastern Mediterranean and Octavian, who took Italy and the western territories. Cleopatra, still the astute stateswoman intent on preserving her throne allied herself with Mark Antony, whom she had met earlier. She hoped that her new alliance would enable her to keep Octavian at bay and to continue to preserve Egypt’s independence.

Plutarch’s account of Cleopatra’s response when Mark Anthony’s summoned her to meet with him at Cilicia illustrates her shrewdness and awareness of the importance of maintaining control of when and how to make an appearance.

She received several letters, both from Antony and from his friends, to summon her, but she took no account of these orders; and at last, as if in mockery of them, she came sailing up the river Cydnus, in a barge with gilded stern and outspread sails of purple, while oars of silver beat time to the music of flutes and fifes and harps. She herself lay all along, under a canopy of cloth of gold, dressed as Venus in a picture, and beautiful young boys, like painted Cupids, stood on each side to fan her. Her maids were dressed like Sea Nymphs and Graces, some steering at the rudder, some working at the ropes. The perfumes diffused themselves from the vessel to the shore, which was covered with multitudes, part following the galley up the river on either bank, part running out of the city to see the sight. The marketplace was quite emptied, and Antony at last was left alone sitting upon the tribunal; while the word went through all the multitude, that Venus was come to feast with Bacchus, for the common good of Asia. On her arrival, Antony sent to invite her to supper. She thought it fitter he should come to her; so, willing to show his good-humor and courtesy, he complied, and went. He found the preparations to receive him magnificent beyond expression, but nothing so admirable as the great number of lights; for on a sudden there was let down altogether so great a number of branches with lights in them so ingeniously disposed, some in squares, and some in circles, that the whole thing was a spectacle that has seldom been equaled for beauty.²⁷

Although Cleopatra’s efforts paid off and the alliance with Mark Anthony was secured, her plans suffered a fatal blow when their combined fleets were defeated in the battle of Actium in Greece on September 2, 31 BCE and they fled to Egypt. Octavian pursued the couple there a few months later, and when Antony’s troops deserted him near the present day neighborhood of Camp Caesar in Alexandria, all was lost. Both Antony and Cleopatra chose to commit suicide rather than be captured by Octavian, and Egypt lost its independence and became a Roman province administered as a personal possession of Octavian.

The Break with the Past

Cleopatra’s defeat signaled the beginning of a phase that culminated in the loss of a culture and way of life that had endured for millennia. Rome’s exploitation of Egypt’s wealth and resources was thoughtless, callous, and not only led to economic ruin and social decay,²⁸ but began a process that was to continue for many centuries to come. As a mere province of an empire, Egypt was no longer in charge of its destiny, and its interests became secondary to the interests of that empire. Its wealth was now exported to Rome instead of being invested in local projects,²⁹ and its trade routes through the Red Sea were controlled by and run for the benefit of the occupying power. Under the Ptolemies, however incompetent some of them had been, Egypt’s wealth had remained in the country.³⁰ Furthermore, as Egyptian monarchs, the Ptolemies had no reason to export Egypt’s wealth anywhere, and their own self-interest required them to ensure the good health of the economy and the wellbeing of their subjects who were, after all, their only source of income.³¹ The Romans on the other hand were only interested in what they could extract from the country regardless of the long-term consequences on its economy. Egypt was, after all, only one of the many provinces that belonged to the vast empire.³² The country was, however, an important source of revenue for the Romans, and vast amounts of goods and resources were taken out over a short period of time.³³ It is estimated that under Augustus well over one million tons of Egyptian grain may have arrived in Rome each year.³⁴ Grain, papyrus, glass, crafted artifacts, minerals, ores, porphyry and granite, were among Egypt’s exports to Rome. The appearance of Egyptianstyle architecture and sculpture, the building of public libraries,³⁵ and the worship of Isis and Serapis, were examples of the cultural influences that were also exported to Rome from Egypt.

Although Egypt had lost control of its destiny and resources and had become a province of a large Empire, the Romans did, however, respect the prevailing religious practices and adopted some of them. As the official head of state, the Roman emperor became the pharaoh whose authority and divinity was decreed by Egyptian religious, political, and social conventions,³⁶ and he was depicted on temples as the divine ruler in accordance with traditional practices. ³⁷ He assumed pharaonic titles and had his own name inscribed as pharaoh on the cartouches of several temples. This was a necessity mandated by Egyptian religious, political, and cultural practices in which the pharaoh, as the symbol of order and stability, played a central role even if he was as far away as the Roman emperor was.³⁸ The Romans completed or added to some of the temples that were still under construction, and maintained good relations with the powerful priesthood. They blended their own pantheon of gods with that of the Egyptians often simply by giving Latin names to the Egyptian gods,³⁹ and attempted to gain legitimacy by linking themselves to the Ptolemies and the pharaonic line.⁴⁰ However, the Romans never became Egyptianized in the way that the Ptolemies had. The emperor was away in Rome and absentee rule left a serious void in Egyptian religious and cultural life. As mortals, the emperors’ representatives in Egypt were not qualified to perform the rituals and ceremonial roles that formed an essential part of divine kingship. The emperor, Caesar, who lived in far away Rome could not provide Egyptians with the sense of harmony, security, oneness with nature, and connection to the world of the gods that their pharaonic god-king had provided.

It was only a matter of time before the Egyptians would begin to realize that they were ruled in absentia from Rome by a man not a living god. Most Roman emperors never visited Egypt, and those that did, came on rare occasions. The country was governed by a prefect who was appointed by Rome, granted vast powers, and presided over every aspect of life in Egypt. In that respect, his power in society was similar to that of the pharaoh, but his domain did not extend to the realm of the gods. He was a representative of Caesar, not of Amon or Horus. The fact that he curried favor with the priesthood, helped to maintain the temples, and financed religious projects may have initially ensured peace in society and guaranteed the cooperation of the population. Nevertheless, the core of the social structure, the living god, was no longer present, which meant that a substantial vacuum existed. Egypt was now in some ways similar to a boat that had lost its rudder and was floating without direction. The waters were relatively calm for a while, but it was inevitable that problems would arise sooner or later.

The death of the last Pharaoh, Cleopatra, and the Roman occupation of Egypt had severed the link between the world of humans and the world of the gods for the first time in Egypt’s long history. From that point onwards, the Egyptians had to fend for themselves. They no longer had a god-king to insure their security and prosperity and intercede with the other gods on their behalf. Their pharaoh, who had provided security and stability and protected Egypt for millennia from the nomadic marauders and plunderers, was no more. The core of the Egyptian social structure was thus destroyed along with the harmony, stability, and continuity that had always been of paramount importance to the Egyptians and the fundamental essence of a society that had remained essentially the same over the millennia. Stripped of its core and the god-king who held that core together, the Egyptian social structure was no longer viable. It was only a matter of time before the impact of the loss would permeate all levels of society and inevitably lead to significant and wide-ranging social change. This was compounded by several revolts and years of social upheaval and unrest as the economy began to decline due to Rome’s shortsighted exploitation of Egypt’s resources and oppressive taxation to finance the growing needs of the Roman Empire.

The serious void left in people’s daily lives due to the absence of the pharaoh was felt most acutely during this period of social unrest and upheaval because only the pharaoh was qualified to guarantee the orderly functioning of the universe. When St. Mark⁴¹ the Apostle arrived in Egypt in the first century CE offering a way to fill this vacuum, people were ready to listen, and the new theology, Christianity, began gradually to take hold.

The striking similarities between some of the new theology’s myths and the indigenous Egyptian myths must have made the imported creed appear far less alien and more plausible than it might have otherwise. The trinity of the gods Isis, Osiris, and Horus, the miraculous conception of Isis, the miraculous birth of Horus, and the death and resurrection of Osiris, seemed to lie at the core of the new religious myths and must