Think Like an Egyptian (32 page)

 

 

 

 

In this hieroglyph the man holds a staff but, unlike the hieroglyph for “old man” (see no. 79), he stands upright, and in his other hand holds a piece of folded cloth, which, like the staff, was a mark of status. Status in ancient Egypt was primarily measured by the number of titles one had, with the grand officials of the later Old Kingdom collecting the most. The vizier Mereruka, in his tomb at Sakkara, managed almost a hundred: they included a mixture of jobs actually done at some point in his career and of titles bestowed as a mark of honor, probably in each case bringing with them an income or pension. An Egyptian inscribed his titles in his tomb, on his statue in the local temple, and around the stone doorframe to his house. He sealed documents with a ring or other kind of stamp that, in the space available, wrote his name and principal title in small hieroglyphs.

A common title stated that you were in charge of something, either an institution (for example, a granary) or a body of people (for example, young recruits). This title, when translated literally—“one who is in the mouth”—sounds like colorful slang and was often written playfully using a hieroglyphic sign for a tongue,
. The convention is to translate the title as “overseer,” although in certain jobs better alternatives suggest themselves: “steward” for “overseer of a house” (rich men would normally have employed at least one), “senior officer” or even “general” for “overseer of the army,” and “mayor” for “overseer of the city.”

Men with ambition in what was ancient Egypt’s civil service needed versatility backed by broad practical knowledge. A scribal school practice exercise written, in a tone of mockery, by an official named Hori about a colleague named Amenemope shows what an official should be ready for at short notice: calculating the number of bricks needed for a giant construction ramp; estimating the number of men needed to drag an obelisk from the quarries; how to set upright a colossal statue, using sand-filled chambers at the end of a ramp. Suddenly the story shifts from engineering and logistical works in Egypt to foreign campaigning: Amenemope finds himself sent on a military campaign to Syria. It is his job to supply the food and also to guide the army by means of his detailed knowledge of local geography: “As for the River Jordan, how can it be crossed?” “How many leagues’ march is it to Gaza?” The Egyptian ethos promoted competence; their style of education created an elite who looked for rewards for doing jobs well. This culture helps explain the success of ancient Egypt’s civilization.

The Egyptians promoted men on merit and on loyalty to the regime. Some officials made a point of recording their lowly origin. Akhenaten’s fan bearer, named May, put it plainly: “I was a poor man on both my father’s and my mother’s side; but the ruler built me up, he advanced me, he fed me by means of his ka when I was without property. He enabled me to acquire people in numbers” —the last sentence a reference to dependents, including slaves. The sage Ptahhetep offers advice to the young man entering the service of someone like this: “Do not recall if he once was poor; do not be arrogant toward him for knowing his former state. Respect him for what has accrued to him, for wealth does not come by itself.” In reality, promotion by merit was countered by the deep-seated wish of men to pass their office to their sons.

Although offices could be sold or transferred by legal deed, generally appointment and promotion rested with the king and was signaled through written commands and solemn ceremony. Nebnefer records how his promotion to his father’s post in the granary of Amun’s temple at Thebes as “keeper of measurements” —not a very elevated office—began with a high official delivering an authorizing letter from the king, who was at Memphis, to the high priest of Amun at Thebes, who in turn formed a six-man committee of his most senior colleagues to approve the post, so that Nebnefer could feel that his promotion came with the full weight of royal approval.

Some titles were closed to those rising only by their own merits, particularly landowning titles. These belonged to local governors, who were also normally the chief priests of local temples. They formed local dynasties, their authority depending upon their ownership of land and traditions of local deference. These must be the men who one king had in mind when giving to his successor (named Merikara) the advice to place more trust in rich men rather than poor, for the latter, through envy, will be more inclined to accept bribes.

 

 

 

 

The hieroglyph depicts a scepter of office with a cylindrical handle ending in a lotus, above which rises a flat panel with slightly concave sides. We do not know how it originated. It is used in writing several words for control, the most common being
s
m
(
sekhem
), “power.”

In statues and pictures, Pharaohs often hold symbols of power in their hands. Sometimes two ornamental symbols of office, the flail and the crook—like a shepherd’s—are held across the Pharaoh’s chest. Another symbol of authority was a folded piece of cloth, held in the hand by officials as well as by kings. The
sekhem
scepter of power was also grasped by the Pharaoh and high officials, and must have been particularly satisfying to hold since it actually wrote the word for “power.” Tutankhamun was buried with a
sekhem
scepter in his tomb, made from wood and with decorated gold sheeting covering the flat panel.

Through the addition of a pair of decorative eyes at the base of the panel, the
sekhem
scepter came to be seen as a manifestation of the power of a god. It became a cult image, revered in temples. In one example, in the temple of Seti I at Abydos, the accompanying text demonstrates one of those sideways associations that recur in Egyptian thinking. It is labeled, “Thoth, mighty one of the gods,” and so represents the power of Thoth even though it carries no added detail that we can associate with that god. Were it not for the label we would not make the association.

 

 

 

 

The sign is a flat palette on which black and red ink could be mixed, a narrow solid tube to contain a reed pen, and a little bag for powdered pigments. It principally serves as the dominant sign in writing the word
s
(sesh),
“to write, draw, or paint.” From it came the word
“writer,” which we invariably translate as “scribe.” Scribes were from an educated class of people who managed the country. The role of scribe was so honorable that Egyptian statues often depicted a man as a scribe: sitting cross-legged with a papyrus scroll across his lap, his face looking either attentively forward or thoughtfully downward toward his writing. A famous example, found in the temple of Amun-Ra at Karnak, belongs to Amenhetep son of Hapu, the man responsible for the monumental buildings of Amenhetep III, which included the Colossi of Memnon and the Luxor temple.