The Grand Procession of Ptolemy Philadelphus: Part One

In or around 278 BCE, another spectacular event was held in Egypt, this time in ancient Alexandria. Not long after he came to power, Ptolemy II, the son of Ptolemy I (a general and close friend of Alexander the Great), staged a monumental procession the likes of which had never been seen before in the ancient world. Indeed, it still may not have a match in sheer grandeur and expense even today.

At that time, Egypt was enmeshed in a series of struggles amongst the diadochi, the generals from Alexander's army and their successors who were competing for the remains of the gigantic empire that had been carved out across western Asia and northern Africa. Ptolemy and his son were part of this group of competitors. Egypt was rich in raw materials, precious gems, and food. It was one of the most sought-after regions of the empire.

This was not only a period of almost continuous war, it was also a fascinating time in history. Ptolemy I had claimed the body of Alexander after his death - rather he had forcibly "kidnapped" it - and taken it to Memphis, the then-capital of Egypt near modern-day Cairo. Supposedly, the thought was that possession of the body was tantamount to a final claim on the empire's crown. At some point it was decided either by Ptolemy I or by him and his son jointly, that the body should be repatriated to Alexandria, the city that Alexander founded. When and how this occured has never been confirmed. However, I believe it is possible that the body was returned as part of the massive celebration held by Ptolemy II about 278 BCE.

So that is the first interesting aspect to this event. Another is the sheer intrigue and mix of personalities involved. They include: Ptolemy I, the seasoned, battle-hardened general; Ptolemy II, a voluptuary and dilettante and the son of Ptolemy I; and Arsinoe II, a strong-willed beauty thirsting for political power, and a woman easily the intellectulal equivalent of her future more famous relative, Cleopatra VII. She was the daughter of Ptolemy I and, if history is to be believed, eventually the wife of her brother, Ptolemy II. It was this marriage that later resulted in Ptolemy II being forever known as "Philadelphus" or "loving one's sister."

Finally, all this takes place in Alexandria, the most beautiful, advanced city in the world at that time, thanks to the ingenuity of these same Ptolemies. For want of comparison, it was in those days a contemporary mixture of the debauchery of a Las Vegas and the sophistication of a Paris, London, or New York.

I'll get right into the story in the next post.

Legacies of the Opet Festival

It is interesting to note that most of today's world knows very little about these spectacular ancient celebrations yet they continue to influence our lives. My goal in investigating the celebrations is to make people aware of the real legacies of them. Here are my thoughts about the Opet Festival.

The first legacy is related to the god Amun-Re and the beginnings of western religious thought. Egyptian religion remained remarkably uniform throughout its 3,000 years of history; however, in the latter part, some gods became more powerful by assimilating lesser gods. Between 1353 and 1336 BCE, during the New Kingdom period, a pharaoh named Akhenaten ruled, the so-called “heretic pharaoh.” In place of the hundreds of natural elements and forces that the Egyptians had always honored as their gods, he recognized only one: the supreme force of Light, the sun disc. This was nothing short of revolutionary thinking. It was, as some scholars have suggested, possibly the first example of monotheism in history. It put a lot of priests out of work and created a monstrous conflict between that class and the pharaoh. Consequently, once Akhenaten’s reign was over, later generations of priests and pharaohs attempted to expunge his reign by defacing all his monuments. However, out of the ensuing return to normalcy in Egyptian religion, some of the previous gods became stronger. Amun-Re appears to have been one result of this coalescing. In fact, a papyrus written during the reign of Ramesses II attests to Amun being “the image of every god” and “too great to investigate, too powerful to know.” It goes on, “All the gods are three: Amun, the sun, and Ptah….” As Allen (1997) states, “Although the text speaks of three gods, the three are merely aspects of a single god. Here Egyptian theology has reached a kind of monotheism,…one more akin to that of the Christian trinity.” By about then, Amun had indeed combined with the sun-god Re to become Amun-Re, a clear indication of the beginning of a unified concept. Furthermore, as Amun-Re became more powerful as a state god, religion approached a form of henotheism, the worship of a single god above others. Coincidentally, henotheism was practiced in nearby Syria-Palestine where the god Ba’al was eventually replaced as the chief god by Hashem or “the Lord” in Israel shortly after this period, at the time of Abraham, around 1000 BCE. For western religion, this was the start of true monotheism. Thus, since the Opet Festival was the main annual event in Thebes and celebrated the creative power of Amun-Re, it is not unreasonable to assume that it was influential in the nascence of the great religious traditions of western thought.

The second legacy concerns the relationship of the god Amun-Re to the pharaoh. As we have seen earlier, in Egyptian religion the pharaoh was considered to be the earthly manifestation of Amun-Re. In this capacity, the pharaoh was a necessary intermediary between the gods and humanity. Thus, the festival was one of the first well-documented historical events that reinforced the concept of divine right of kings, so prevalent in many societies even up to the present.

The third legacy has to do with ritual. To say that the rituals of this festival were elaborate is an understatement. Not only were they elaborate, but if one believes the vast array of glyphic evidence, they were also invariant. This invariance is another general characteristic of ritual postulated by religious scholar Dr. Catherine Bell, whom we referenced in the Introduction. Furthermore, the strict prayers and incantations were augmented by performance in the form of music and dance, as in the Rhino Cave but considerably more developed. Let’s look at these a little closer. 

There was a plethora of instruments used in the Opet, including sistra (metal rattles usually made of bronze), lyres, flutes, castanets, tambourines, ivory clappers, barrel drums, and trumpets. Although others such as harps and bells were not depicted, they were probably used at the feasts during Opet, since they are extensively shown elsewhere in the same historical period. The inventors of these instruments are unknown, lost over time. Almost identical versions of most of them have been noted in Mesopotamian culture of the period, dating back simultaneously with Egypt to the third millennium BCE. The number and sophistication of the instruments, samples of which are in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, would lead one to think that there must have been written music. Oddly, nothing has been discovered. Neither has anyone yet proven whether harmony was used in instrumental or vocal performance. We are reasonably certain that the musicians tuned their instruments using cyclical tuning (supposedly “invented” by the Greek mathematician Pythagoras when visiting Egypt seven centuries after Ramesses II!) according to a strict cycle of perfect fourths and perfect fifths. This tuning sounded more natural and consonant than the somewhat dissonant equal temperament tuning invented during the Renaissance that is the basis of current western music. Thus, there could easily have been simple harmony using these intervals, which are the most pleasing to the ear. There has been no shortage of speculation of its use because of the religious beliefs of the ancient Egyptians. The notion that “each note of music not only had a particular cosmic value, but a magic potency…. The orderly arrangement of the stars and the harmony of musical sounds and their natures was the very pivot of the religious conceptions of the ancient Egyptians.” This can be supported by the extensive employment of temple musicians and singers—usually female—who surely must have practiced and experimented with melodies and intervals that best suited the elaborate rituals.

One fascinating related invention—and legacy—thought to come from Egypt, is chironomy. Chironomy is the use of hand signals to direct vocal and instrumental music performance. Whereas in modern conducting the notes are already specified in a written score, in chironomy the hand signs indicate melodic curves and ornaments. Chironomy has more visual documentation in Egypt than anywhere else in the ancient world. Some of the festival scenes do, in fact, depict a leader directing clapping priests using chironomy.

Dance, the other performance genre most prevalent in iconography, was well advanced in form by the time of the New Kingdom. It is known from widespread depictions on tombs and temples that there were different types of dances, with both males and females participating. In the case of the Opet Festival, they appear to have been only female. For example, twelve nude female dancers are shown in acrobatic poses in one set of Luxor Temple carvings. Moreover, they are shown performing in the same poses, an indication that they had probably been choreographed to some extent (see Figure 1 below). Beside them, to the right, a group of female musicians with sistra is no doubt keeping time for them. Farther to the right of the musicians is what appears to be a pile of burning offerings on an altar, with other people bringing more sacrifices. This is apparently a specific ritual being performed as the procession nears the Luxor Temple, and thus the dances are likely a part of it.

Figure 1: Scene of dancers, musicians, and sacrificial feast from the Colonnade Hall in Luxor Temple

Taking the dance scene together with all the various music scenes, and considering the combination as an entire, if somewhat broken, performance designed to enhance the festival, we have a real legacy from this event. This combination could be interpreted as an early documentation of music and dance used to bring greater understanding of the festival’s arcane rituals to the general populace forced to await the appearance of their gods and pharaoh outside the temple enclosures.

If this is correct, it does a couple of things. First, it brings sensory stimuli (i.e., the rhythmic drivers of music and dance mentioned in an earlier post on October 20, 2010) into the festival to help in the sharing of communal ritual by the participants and spectators. Second, it adds meaning to the ritual enactment of concepts that the uneducated spectators would otherwise find obscure: the mythical wedding of gods and the rejuvenation of the pharaoh’s power. Indeed, the whole festival is a ritual drama, one that must be “elaborately staged so that senses are aroused and flooded with phenomenological proof of the symbolic reality which the ritual is portraying.” If the music has been successfully chosen and played, and if the dancers have properly interpreted the choreographer’s understanding of the ritual enhancement required, then the whole performance component has been successful.

For the final legacy of the Opet, we return to that magnificent example of sacred space, the Temple of Amun-Re in Karnak. Built in stages by numerous pharaohs over several centuries, it was purposely designed with processional events such as the Opet Festival in mind. As pointed out by Thomas Barrie, it contained “a marked origin, a path, and a sacred center (or destination) at the end of the path.” It dramatically expressed Egyptian beliefs and their creation myths. For example, once inside the main entrance—at the time of Ramesses II—one was thrust into a hall designed to evoke creation and the primordial mound from which life arose out of the chaos of prehistory. This so-called hypostyle hall was filled with immense columns resembling papyrus plants some 21 meters (69 feet) high supporting a roof with small clerestory windows near the ceiling to give minimal light (see Figure 2 below).

Figure 2: Present-day remains of the hypostyle hall of Karnak Temple, with no roof

As one ventured farther into the temple on the processional path towards the east, the ground rose gradually and the ceiling lowered until the final destination was reached, the holiest of holies, the sanctuary of the god Amun-Re, where the sacred statue and processional barque were kept. Along the way were more pylons and obelisks that signaled the entrances to increasingly more sacred areas. The temple’s main entrance pylons (seen in the background in the painting accompanying the first post about the Opet) depicted scenes of the pharaoh smiting enemies, a sign that he controlled order (ma’at) in the country and was able to defeat chaos. As well, the inner walls of the temple were covered with carved offering and processional scenes, typically painted in vivid colors. The temple complex in Karnak was, and still is, the largest religious site in the world, at 247 acres. Similarly, the Luxor Temple was a smaller version in the same basic design common to cult temples throughout Egypt. More detailed descriptions of the Karnak and Luxor temples may be found in the excellent books by Wilkinson and Lauffray.

Together, these temples and the rituals of the Opet Festival within and near them represented a fully developed ancient religion in its most exquisite form. They were clearly the antecedents to the Greek, Roman, and other sacred spaces and sacred spectacles that were soon to follow.

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References:

• Allen, J.P. (1997). The Celestial Realm. In Silverman, D.P. (Ed.) Ancient Egypt. New York: Oxford University Press, Inc.
• Barrie, T. (1996). Spiritual Path, Sacred Place: Myth, Ritual, and Meaning in Architecture. Boston: Shambala Publications, Inc.
• Bell, C. (1997). Ritual: Perspectives and Dimensions. NY: Oxford University Press. pp. 138-169.
• Epigraphic Survey. (1994). Reliefs and Inscriptions at Luxor Temple, Vol. 1: The Festival Procession of Opet in the Colonnade Hall, OIP 112. Chicago: The Oriental Institute.
•  Farmer, G.F. (1999). The Music of Ancient Egypt. In Wellesz, E. (Ed.), Ancient and Oriental Music. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 265-283.
• Fukaya, M. (2007). Distribution of the Life Force in the Festival of the Valley: A Comparative Study with the Opet Festival. Orient, Vol. XLII. pp. 95-124.
• Lauffray, J. (1979). Karnak d’Egypte: Domain du divin. Paris: Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique. McFee, G. (1992). Understanding Dance. Place of Publication: New York: Routledge. p. 123.
• McFee, G. (1992). Understanding Dance. Place of Publication: New York: Routledge. p. 123.
• Myerhoff, B.G. (1984). A Death in Due Time: Construction of Self and Culture in Ritual Drama. In MacAloon, J.J. (Ed.), Rite, Drama, Festival, Spectacle. Philadelphia, PA: Institute for the Study of Human Issues. pp. 149-178.
• Wheeler, J. (2008). Chironomy in the Ancient World. The Music of the Bible Revealed. Retrieved December 16, 2008, from http://www.rakkav.com/biblemusic/pages/chironomy.htm.
• Wilkinson, R.H. (2000). The Complete Temples of Ancient Egypt. Cairo: The American University in Cairo Press.

More About the Opet Festival in Egypt

With the current unrest in Egypt, it is indeed unfortunate that so many incredible tourist destinations have been closed and the country is losing immense amounts of income from tourist dollars. Of course, one of these destinations is Luxor, in Upper Egypt, where the ancient festival took place. One does not realize the size and geography of the country until a visit and this is the sad part. Egypt must be experienced to be fully appreciated.

As a former special event producer, I have always been interested - and quite amazed - at the complexity of organization of these ancient events. For the Opet Festival, there were tremendous challenges in the organization and execution of the event, and much of this had to do with the geography and climate of the country. Let's first take a look at the reasons for the event and then delve into the impact of geography and climate.

What Were the Reasons for the Event?

Everything in Egypt is and always has been linear and logical. The Nile, the river of life, flows consistently from south to north; the sun consistently shines all day, every day. An Egyptian friend once told me he got very depressed when there were two cloudy days in a row! In so perfect an environment, it is easy to see how this narrow strip of land became one of the first established agricultural civilizations. The ancient Egyptians depended on the consistency of the life-giving forces of the river and the sun. Without them, it was a short step to death, especially considering the expansive deserts that hugged the edges of the fertile river valley to the east and west. It is in the river, the sun, and the pharaoh that we find the reasons for the Opet Festival.

Around the consistencies of river and sun developed a complex polytheistic religion with numerous gods and goddesses reflecting the natural phenomena in unique forms. This was not unlike the religion of the hunter-gatherers of the Rhino Cave, except that the gods and goddesses had become more anthropomorphic and specific to every important aspect of life. For example, Horus was the god of the sky in the form of a falcon; Sobek was the god of water dangers in the form of a crocodile; Thoth was the god of writing and knowledge in the form of a baboon; Hathor was the goddess of motherhood portrayed as a cow or woman with a crown of thorns around the sun; and numerous others like these. There was often duplication and overlap, adding to the confusion.

Not unexpectedly, throughout the long course of Egyptian history, some gods became more important than others, especially in different regions of the country, and some morphed into new gods or combinations of gods. Amun-Re and Mut, the god and goddess of the Opet Festival, are two examples. By the time of Ramesses II, some 1,900 years after the founding of Egypt, Amun was considered the king of the gods and associated with the sun god Re, amalgamating to form Amun-Re, the most powerful god in the country. He was also considered the head or “sky-father” figure of the local “family” triad of gods in Thebes, which consisted of himself, Mut his wife who was the “queen of the goddesses” (i.e., a sort of “earth-mother”), and their son Khonsu, the god of the moon but also a deification of the royal placenta, thus a god involved with childbirth. As religious scholar E.O. James, pointed out, during the rise of agrarian societies (like Egypt), “The earth-mother became associated with the sky-father who was regarded as sending the rain to fertilize the soil through a sacred marriage with the goddess.”

For Egypt, rain equated to the floodwaters of the Nile. Prior to the completion of the first Aswan Dam in the far south of the country in 1902 and finally the high Aswan Dam in 1964, the Nile used to flood annually in what was known as “inundation.” The flooding occurred approximately between what we now know as June 21 and October 21, a season called akhet. In this season, the river overflowed its banks and covered the farms with water, thus providing the precious fertility needed for crops. Along with the floods also came hundreds of crocodiles, hence the god Sobek for the river.

Of course, nature is never fully cooperative, and years occurred in which inundation was too early, too late, too high, or too low. All of these could in their own way wreak havoc with crops or with cities and villages. Floods that were too late or too low might not provide enough water, potentially causing drought and low or no crop yields. Floods that were too early or too high might completely destroy villages or fields, causing disruption to planting and harvesting schedules. Interestingly, the collapse of what is known as the Old Kingdom of Egypt—the first period of strong centralized government and the time the pyramids were built—around 2185 BCE corresponded almost exactly with a series of catastrophically low Nile floods due to abrupt climate change. This led to starvation, disease, civic unrest, and political turnover. It was the first known example of the serious effect of sudden climate change on a civilization. Furthermore, evidence has recently been discovered that at a time after 1800 BCE, Nile floods were excessively high, rendering the Fayoum Oasis, one of the major breadbaskets of the country near present-day Cairo, unusable. Again, this corresponded almost perfectly with the end of another prosperous period in Egyptian history known as the Middle Kingdom. In subsequent years, the country became vulnerable and was invaded by a mysterious group from the Near East called the Hyksos. The Hyksos had a debilitating effect on Egypt for over a century.

Needless to say, these two periods of unrest and chaos (isfet) would be sustained in the collective memory of the ancient Egyptians as examples of times when ma’at, or harmonious order, was not maintained. In Egyptian religion, the pharaoh was considered an earthly manifestation of the god Horus and it was his principal responsibility to maintain ma’at in the earthly world. It would thus be essential that everything be done by him to ensure chaos would not happen again. Here, then, is where the Opet Festival comes in. Thanks to the epigraphic records from the Karnak and Luxor temples, there seems to be general agreement that the reasons for the festival were distinctly religious ones of rejuvenation and rebirth. Rejuvenation ensued from Amun-Re’s gift of divine power handed over to the pharaoh when the pharaoh made offerings in the temple at Karnak to begin the festival. Rebirth ensued from a divine marriage—also known as hieros gamos—between the two principal deities of Thebes, Amun-Re and Mut, and an attendant symbolic marriage of the pharaoh and his queen, as the manifestations of these gods on earth, in the temple at Luxor.

This divine marriage—and the symbolic marriage of pharaoh and queen— was in essence a fertility rite related to the rising waters of the Nile that re-fertilized the valley. It was necessary for the successful inundation of the Nile to occur in a controlled manner in keeping with the concept of ma’at. The processions associated with this aspect of the festival took place on a north-south axis (see Figure below), corresponding with the direction of the Nile’s floodwaters. Interestingly, the return journey to the Karnak temple from Luxor three weeks later was via another paved processional path purposely built for the festival and lined with sphinxes, again on a north-south axis. It would not have been unusual to have the return processional path covered with water from the inundation at the time of the procession.

Opet Processional Routes

As with the Rhino Cave ceremony, the success of the Opet Festival depended on a humble, faith-filled populace believing with all their hearts that their gods would provide abundant crops and that their pharaoh was capable of interceding for them with these gods to “make it happen.” Therefore, the real underlying, subliminal message being conveyed in the Opet Festival by the pharaoh and the priests (i.e., together, the organizers of the festival) to their people was, “Trust in our power to maintain order and to communicate with the gods. As long as you continue to worship and to make offerings in the prescribed manner, the gods will favor us, the country will prosper, and we will receive their blessings on your behalf.” In effect, it was as much a political message as a religious one.

How Effective was the Design of the Event?

The fact that this festival endured for over 700 consecutive years is a testament to its effective design and its power to persuade the people of Egypt that their pharaoh was keeping order. However, this effectiveness rested on overcoming a number of logistical challenges, some of them of the same magnitude that we see today in large spectacles.

First of all, communication and scheduling would have been imprecise at best. At the time of Ramesses II (reign from 1279 to 1212 BCE), with the pharaoh living in Pi-Ramesse in the Nile delta, about 900 kilometers north of Thebes, timing the start of the festival and ensuring that the pharaoh arrived on schedule would be tricky. Sending messages via the river would probably be the most efficient but would still incur delays. The only way to ensure that the pharaoh would be present would be for him and his officials in Thebes to agree that the festival would begin on a specific date dictated by the first rising of Sirius, or Sopdet, the morning star. The hitch would be in the Nile’s flooding—it might not coincide with the date. If it was early, the temples and festival areas might flood. If it was late, the general populace might worry that disaster was coming, putting the divine communication abilities of the pharaoh in doubt.

A second logistical challenge would be taking care of the multitudes that arrived from the surrounding towns and countryside to celebrate the festival. Once the Nile flooded—or even at the first sign of its rising—much of the farming population would be forced to leave their low-lying houses and take refuge at higher elevations, there pitching tents or living with friends. Knowing that the most important festival of the year would be taking place, possibly within days, would no doubt encourage them to head directly for Thebes, especially when free food was available, as was the custom. Although most farmers were given work in the extensive state monument-building programs during the season of inundation, this would probably not begin until after the festival.

The population of ancient Thebes has not been recorded and can only be estimated. Considering that Thebes was the administrative and religious center of Upper Egypt at the time of Ramesses II, it would probably have been heavily populated. It is known that the Temple of Amun-Re had over 80,000 workers, including priests. The supporting city and countryside must have housed at least the same number again. Providing food, security, and sanitation for a good portion of this total number, many of them vagrants, would have been a challenge. Most likely, the army, which we know had a garrison of some 10,000 in Thebes, would have been responsible for security during the festival. We know for sure that tomb robbing was a problem long before Ramesses II, so is it is no surprise that the temple depictions in Luxor show soldiers and charioteers armed to the teeth. They were there for more than their joyous and willing participation in the festival!

The third interesting logistical challenge is the actual execution of the event. Even though the scenes carved into the Luxor Temple colonnade walls are detailed, they are not complete and have suffered damage over the centuries. Hence, there are a number of different theories as to how the event played out. Some experts think that processions went in both directions on water, some think both directions on land, and some say they went one way on land and one on water. Probably, as some have suggested, the exact routing depended on whether the floodwaters had breached the river’s banks and intruded into the festival’s processional routes or into the temples. Experts also disagree on where, when, and with whom certain rituals took place in each temple. As a result of studying the Luxor inscriptions, reading a number of related papers, and discussing the subject with Egyptologists, I have proposed a new theory for consideration as laid out in very basic form in my last post (if more detail is needed, I may be contacted directly). The water and land processions, the meaning and conduct of the rituals, and the manner in which performance was incorporated, all form this theory. However, we may never know what really took place. The event parameters and temple construction were altered with almost every reigning pharaoh over the course of the festival’s long life, complicating the debate.

I have been intrigued by the disposition of the statues of the gods carried in procession as a factor in the execution of the event—what I deem to be a fourth serious logistical challenge. It has been suggested that these statues were made of either solid gold or electrum, both heavy metals, and that the sizes varied up to almost life-size. Nobody seems to have taken into account the weight of these statues, a not inconsiderable oversight, since the priests had to carry the statues in their barques over fairly long distances. Here’s the problem. If just one of these statues were made of solid electrum (a mixture of approximately 70 percent gold and 30 percent silver) and were no more than, say, 45 centimeters (18 inches) wide by 45 centimeters deep by 60 centimeters (24 inches) high (i.e., about the size that would fit into one of the processional barque shrines), it would weigh over 2,000 kilograms, or more than 4,400 pounds. If, as seen in many of the processional carvings, it was carried by 30 or so priests, each priest would have had to carry on his shoulders almost 70 kilograms (155 pounds). It is no wonder they built “way stations” or rest stops along the processional routes. The inescapable humidity at that time of year would have added to the “welcome misery” of carrying their god.

Furthermore, some scholars imply that the statues and their shrines “moved” in oracular response to questions posed to the gods by the people attending the festival. If this was true, I doubt that it would have been any more than some poor fatigued priest having trouble managing the weight! Not only that, but explanations of temple rituals often mention that priests single-handedly moved these statues each day. That could not have happened! In fact, there is the greatest probability that the statues remained permanently ensconced in their barque shrines—probably heavily reinforced—and that the handles to carry them were added when they had to be moved in procession. A more likely possibility is that there was a second less-heavy replica of the god used only for processions, which some scholars suggest. However, no statues of any size have ever been found. Perhaps this is not astonishing considering the degree of looting even as far back as the Old Kingdom. What a find it would be if one were unearthed! At today’s value of gold of more than $1000 per ounce, a solid-gold statue of the above size would be worth over $70 million! Perhaps it’s an Indiana Jones mystery waiting to be solved.

Another problem of credibility is the festival scenes from the Luxor Temple that show gangs of citizens (or perhaps slaves?) hauling the barge holding the barque shrines and their statues along what some scholars have thought to be the banks of the Nile upstream to Luxor from Karnak—and even downstream at the end of the festival. Again, this would be highly unlikely or, if it was done, a major logistical challenge. First, there would have been at least one or two heavy statues aboard. Second, the barge itself, at the time of a later pharaoh, Ramesses III, was known to have been over 60 meters (200 feet) in length and partially encrusted with gold and electrum—but with no rowers. It would have been exceptionally heavy. Perhaps the willing citizens helped to guide it out of the temple canal to the river, as I personally postulate. After that, it would have been extremely dangerous—a disaster waiting to happen (e.g., running aground)—to attempt to do this near the shore. From temple inscriptions we know that there were actual towboats with rowers and sails on the river. In all likelihood, the human haulers—if they were used for the river procession—were probably symbolic only, vying for the privilege of being as close to their gods as possible. Think front row seats at a concert.

Still more to come in my next post.

References:

• Bell, L. (1997). The New Kingdom “Divine” Temple: The Example of Luxor. In B.E. Shafer (Ed.), Temples of Ancient Egypt. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. pp. 127-184.
• Ellis, N. (1999). Feasts of Light: Celebrations for the Seasons of Life Based on the Egyptian Goddess Mysteries. Quest Books. p. 16.
• Epigraphic Survey. (1994). Reliefs and Inscriptions at Luxor Temple, Vol. 1: The Festival Procession of Opet in the Colonnade Hall, OIP 112. Chicago: The Oriental Institute.
• James, E.O. (1961). Seasonal Feasts and Festivals. Norwich: Jarrold and Sons Limited. p. 37.
• Hassan, F. (1997). The Gift of the Nile. In Silverman, D.P. (Ed.) Ancient Egypt. New York: Oxford University Press, Inc. p 13.
• Hassan, F.A. (April 2005). A River Runs Through Egypt: Nile Floods and Civilization. Geotimes. Retrieved November 6, 2008, from http://www.geotimes.org/apr05/feature_NileFloods.html.
• Kitchen, K.A. (1982). Pharaoh Triumphant: The Life and Times of Ramesses II. Cairo: Cairo University Press.
• Lauffray, J. (1979). Karnak d’Egypte: Domain du divin. Paris: Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique. p. 69.
• Shafer, B.E. (1997). Temples, Priests, and Rituals: An Overview. In B.E. Shafer (Ed.), Temples of Ancient Egypt. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. p. 16.
• Teeter, E. (1997). The Life of Ritual. In Silverman, D.P. (Ed.) Ancient Egypt. New York: Oxford University Press, Inc. p. 159.
• Wilkinson, R.H. (2000). The Complete Temples of Ancient Egypt. Cairo: The American University in Cairo Press. p. 171.