A Companion to Assyria

by Eckart Frahm

  In order to provide the king with all necessary information, the reports and letters not only described the ominous signs but also quoted the relevant omens from the various series. An omen series was the scholarly way of arranging the rules or “laws” of divination (Fincke 2007). The ominous sign is described in the first clause of a conditional sentence (protasis) and the interpretation (or, more specifically, the expected outcome) in the second clause (apodosis). There were different omen “series” (iškaru), each of them focusing on a specific medium carrying the ominous phenomena, e.g. livers, animals, human beings, the earth, or the sky (Maul 2003). Omens not included in a “series” were called “outside(r), strange” (aû), but could be viable as well. “This (omen) is not from the iškaru‐series; it is aû,” writes a scholar to Esarhaddon in 672 BCE (SAA X 8 rev. 8) and, similarly, “these (omens) are from the iškaru‐series … This (omen) is aû” (SAA VIII 147 rev. 5, 8). In order to give more credibility to an omen that was not quoted from a series, scribes referred to the oral tradition: “this omen is not from the iškaru‐series; it is from the ‘mouth’ of the masters” (SAA X 8 rev. 1–2) or, more specifically, “this (omen) is from the ‘mouth’ of the mast[ers], when Nebuchadnezzar broke Elam” (SAA VIII 158 rev. 4–5). That quotations from the omen series or some other valid tradition were usually obligatory for reports to the king is explicitly stated in one of them: “perhaps the king my lord will say: ‘why did you not quote (any omens) from (the series) šumma izbu (i.e. anomalies)?’ There are no […] in what I […]” (SAA VIII 242 obv. 9–12). To emphasize the correctness of their observation, some scribes even quoted the astronomical series MUL.APIN (Hunger and Pingree 1989): “[The wri]ting‐board (inscribed with) MUL.APIN says as follows: …” (SAA X 62 obv. 13–15).

  How the Neo‐Assyrian Kings Obtained Access to Babylonian Scholarship

  As a consequence of the new emphasis on divination, the late Neo‐Assyrian kings’ attitude towards scribal culture in general changed as well. The rulers were increasingly concerned that consulting scholars for divination, as well as other specialists for their particular expertise, was not sufficient to meet all of their intellectual needs. Having immediate access to the original reference works became important to the kings as well, and so they started collecting cuneiform tablets and writing‐boards with scholarly and literary texts. There is evidence of a library in the royal palace of Kalu (Wiseman and Black 1996: 1), but since it was removed at some point, nothing about its content or focus is known. It most certainly included divinatory texts – we know that Sargon II (721–705 BCE) had a polyptych made of waxed ivory writing‐boards (Mallowan 1954: 98–9; Howard 1955), which was destined for a royal library in Dur‐Šarrukin (Khorsabad), the king’s newly founded capital in the north, but was found in Kalu. The exterior of the polyptych was inscribed with the words: “palace of Sargon, king of the world, king of Assyria – he had the series enūma anu enlil inscribed on an ivory writing‐board (and) deposited it in his palace in Dur‐Šarrukin” (Wiseman 1955).

  Any Neo‐Assyrian king interested in collecting traditional cuneiform texts had to have access to Babylonian sources. Esarhaddon (680–669 BCE) employed Babylonian astrologers to observe the sky and report to him (see above, “The growing role of divination and scholarship for the Neo‐Assyrian kings”) and also enlisted scholars with other areas of expertise. Some of them were Babylonian hostages who copied literary texts for the king under the supervision of Assyrian court officials (SAA XI 156), sometimes under duress: an administrative document states that the son of the governor of the Babylonian city of Nippur “has been put (back) in irons” (SAA XI 156 obv. 10) after completing his copy of a text series and before being assigned to another Assyrian official.

  Access to the more advanced dimensions of Babylonian scholarship remained a privilege of the royal family and a restricted number of experts; a goldsmith of the queen’s household was reported to the king for having bought a Babylonian slave from the market for the purpose of teaching his son exorcistic lore and celestial divination (SAA XVI 65). To strengthen his position and to ensure that nobody else had access to scholarly knowledge, Assurbanipal insisted on having the first choice of each and every scholar in the empire. A letter from Nabû‐iqbi from Kutha to the king says: “(the lord of) kings, my lord, gave the [fo]llowing order to [a]ll the magnates: ‘whoever has a scholar in his presence but hides him fr[om the kin]g and [does not s]end him [t]o the palace, the king’s [… will …] him’” (SAA XVIII 131 edge 22 – rev. 6).

  Babylonian scholars needed employment. When Marduk‐šapik‐zeri wrote a long letter to Esarhaddon reporting on celestial events, he offered him the services of himself and “in all, twenty able scholars … who will be useful to the king my lord, and are guaranteed to meet the king my lord’s desire”; among them were scholars “who [have returned] from Elam, [scribes (sc. astrologers), lamentation chanters], exorcists, diviners, and physicians” (SAA X 160 obv. 48–9, rev. 35–6; for the proposed dates of this letter see Fincke 2003/04: 118). Most of these scholars are said to have been experts in several disciplines, which must have enhanced their value to the king.

  Once employed in the palace at Nineveh, Babylonian scholars wrote tablets for the royal library (SAA VIII 499) and taught their special knowledge to Assyrians. “The apprentices whom the king appointed in my charge have learned enūma anu enlil (i.e. celestial omens),” a Babylonian scholar wrote to the Assyrian king (SAA X 171 obv. 8–10). But the scholars could also be appointed to do their duty elsewhere in Assyria (e.g. SAA X 164) or in Babylonia (Oppenheim 1969: 101–5). “Job applications” similar to that of Marduk‐šapik‐zeri were also written by Assyrian scholars, such as this one sent to Esarhaddon: “I am [an expert in] extispicy, tablets, writing reports, [and things] beyond (that)” (SAA X 182 rev. 30–1). To be selected for the royal entourage was not easy, even though the Assyrian court employed numerous experts from various places. An administrative text from the reign of Esarhaddon lists by name seven astrologers, nine exorcists, five diviners, nine physicians, six lamentation priests, three augurs, three Egyptian scholars, and three Egyptian scribes (SAA VII 1).

  Each scholar employed by the Assyrian court, regardless of whether he worked in the palace in Nineveh or elsewhere, had to swear a loyalty oath (adê) when a new crown prince was nominated (SAA XVIII 83). The scholars – scribes, diviners, exorcists, physicians, and augurs – from various cities were summoned to Nineveh for the oath ceremonies (SAA X 6, 7), which meant that they had to interrupt their work. Nabû‐nadin‐šumi wrote to Esarhaddon in 672 BCE: “I could not perform the rest of the ritual (because) I had to leave for the adê” (SAA X 273 obv. 10–12). The adê‐oaths imposed on scholars, like those for vassals (Parpola and Watanabe 1988), enforced the reporting of any conspiracies or hostile words against the king. With a rhetorical question, “is it not said in the adê‐oath: ‘anyone who hears something (but) does not inform the king (will be punished)’” (SAA X 199 rev. 18’–21’), Adad‐šumu‐uṣur, the king’s diviner, explains why he reported a plot against the king in 670 BCE. Scholars were also summoned to the Ninevite court for other reasons, wherever they were stationed in the Assyrian empire (SAA X 171).

  Even though the palace in Nineveh was the most promising place for a scholar to find employment in Late Assyrian times, regular pay was not assured, as seen from many letters in which Babylonian and Assyrian scholars, more or less gently, complained about their poor living conditions (Frahm 2012). Moreover, scholarly work was often interrupted by other pressing duties. An Assyrian scholar warned the king: “because of the ilku‐duty and the corvée work, we cannot keep the watch of the king and the pupils do not learn the scribal craft” (SAA X 143 rev. 3–8).

  Employing Babylonian scholars at the Assyrian court did not stop the process of collecting tablets for the royal library from the main centers of Babylonian culture and scholarship. In his letter order to Šadûnu, governor of Borsippa, the Assyrian king, presumably Assurbanipal
but possibly Esarhaddon (Frame and George 2005: 281–2), describes the exact procedure (CT 22, 1):

  The day you read this tablet, take in your company Šumaya son of Šumu‐ukin, Bel‐eṭir, his brother, Aplaya son of Arkât‐ilani, and (all) the scholars of Borsippa whom you know and collect whatever tablets are in their houses and whatever tablets are kept in the temple Ezida: the tablets concerning the stone‐amulets for the king, (those) concerning the watercourses, (those) concerning the days (i.e. hemerologies), (those) concerning the month nisannu (I), the stone‐amulet(s) concerning the watercourses, (tablets concerning) the month tašrītu (VlI), (those) concerning the (ritual) bīt salā’ mê, …, (those) concerning (success in) lawsuit, (those of) the “day,” (the set of) four stone‐amulets for the head of the king’s bed and the feet of the king(‘s bed), the “weapon of ēru‐wood” for the head of the king’s bed, the incantation “May Ea and Marduk bring together wisdom for me,” (the tablets of) “Assembling,” the series (concerning) battle, as many as there are, including their additional single‐column tablets, as many as there are, (the ritual) “that an arrow does not come near a person in battle,” (the rituals for) traveling through the open country and (for) entering the palace, the ritual procedure(s), hand‐lifting‐prayers, inscriptions on stone‐amulets, and whatever (else) is good for kingship, (the ritual) “purification of the village,” (the ritual against) giddiness, (the ritual) “out of use,” and whatever might be needed in the palace – as many (tablets) as there are, also rare tablets that are known to you but do not exist in Assyria. Search for them and bring them to me! … Nobody is allowed to withhold a tablet from you. And as for any tablet or ritual procedure that I did not write to you (pl.) about but that you (pl.) have discovered to be beneficial for the palace, you must take (them) as well and send (them) to me.”

  (Fincke 2003/04: 122–3; Frame and George 2005: 281)

  All of the compositions requested here belong to a corpus known as āšipūtu, “exorcists’ lore,” which comprises the prophylactic and apotropaic magical procedures that were vital for supporting and maintaining the health and power of the Assyrian king. The aim was to incorporate the tablets into the royal library for future reference. Priests and scholars would sometimes copy passages from the library texts for specific occasions. A letter from Esarhaddon’s chief exorcist, written in 670 BCE, states: “concerning the ritual about which the king said yesterday: ‘get it done by the 24th day!’ – we cannot make it; the tablets are too numerous, (god only knows) when they will be written” (SAA X 255 obv. 5–10).

  Assembling Tablets for Assurbanipal’s Library in Nineveh

  The Assyrian king who created Mesopotamia’s largest and most important royal library is Assurbanipal (668–631 BCE). To realize this ambitious project, the king used tablets from both Assyrian and Babylonian libraries. Concerning the former, a case in point is the substantial library of Nabû‐zuqup‐kenu, a scribe and scholar from Kalu who was active between 718 and 684 BCE, during the reigns of Sargon II and Sennacherib. His library ended up in Nineveh, most likely in the palace library (Lieberman 1987: 204–17). Nabû‐zuqup‐kenu was primarily concerned with divinatory texts, largely with celestial and meteorological omens from the series enūma anu enlil, but also with commentaries. A copy of Tablet 12 of the Gilgameš Epic, possibly written in response to the death of Sargon II (Frahm 1999: 79), was part of his library as well. Sometimes he copied from tablets and writing‐boards that originated in Babylon, Borsippa, or some Assyrian city (Hunger 1968 nos. 293–313). It is most likely that his sons, Nabû‐zeru‐lešir and Adad‐šumu‐uṣur, took Nabû‐zuqup‐kenu’s library with them when they moved from Kalu to Nineveh, where, under Esarhaddon, the former son became the king’s chief scribe and the latter son the king’s diviner. Eventually, the library was apparently incorporated into Assurbanipal’s own tablet collection.

  In 655 BCE, the priest and scholar Akkullanu asked Assurbanipal: “[and concerning what the k]ing, my lord, [wrote to me]: ‘let [all the omens] be e[xtracted]’ – should I at the same time [copy] the [tab]let of non‐canonical [omens of wh]ich [I spoke? Or should I write them] on a secondary tablet? [Wh]at is it that the king, my lord, [orders]?” (SAA X 101 rev. 1–6). At about the same time, Assurbanipal reportedly tried to get hold of tablets from Babylonian libraries, a process already illustrated by the letter to Šadûnu quoted above. While the Assyrian king was still on good terms with his brother Šamaš‐šumu‐ukin, the king of Babylon (who started an insurrection against him in 652 BCE), Assurbanipal wrote to scholars in Babylon asking them to copy tablets and to send them to him. He even offered the prospect of paying them for their efforts. The number of compositions Assurbanipal had in mind to be copied was quite considerable (BM 28825):

  [To Assurbanipal …] …, (who) wrote [to us thus]: “[(send to me) …] … the entire corpus of scribal learning, the craft of Ea and Asallue, […, šumma] izbu (omens from malformed births), šumma ālu ina mēlê šakin (terrestrial omens), the exorcistic corpus (i.e. rituals and incantations), the lamentation corpus, the song corpus, and all the scribal [learning, as much as there is, that is in the] possession of the great lord Marduk, my lord.” … These twelve scholars (from Babylon) have stored in their minds like goods piled in a magazine (i.e. they know by heart) [the entire corpus of scribal learning, which] they have read and collated, … [… and they have toiled day and] night (writing it all down). … [… PN], my dear brother, who […] 72 writing‐boards of sissoo‐wood from the […] he got out …

  (Frame and George 2005: 275)1

  Around the same time, Assurbanipal must have sent similar orders to Borsippa, another Babylonian city famous for its scribal tradition (BM 45642):

  To Assurbanipal, great king, mighty king: … The dutiful citizens of Borsippa will carry out for the king their lord the instructions that he sent, as follows, “write out all the scribal learning belonging to the property of Nabû (the city god of Borsippa) and send it to me. Carry out the instructions completely!” … We shall strain and toil day and night to completely carry out the instructions of our lord the king. We shall write on boards of sissoo‐wood, we shall respond immediately. And regarding the writing‐board in Sumerian, the glossary, about which you sent word, there is none but that in Esagil temple (in Babylon). Let inquiries now be made before our lord the king. [You should] send word to the citizens of Babylon …

  (Frame and George 2005: 268–9)

  Apparently, Assurbanipal had to be satisfied with copies on writing‐boards of the important compositions he had asked about. After the revolt of Šamaš‐šumu‐ukin in 652 BCE and the ensuing war between the two brothers, which Assurbanipal won four years later, acquiring Babylonian tablets entered a second phase, in which Assurbanipal received original tablets from Babylonia. Library records from 647 BCE found in Nineveh (SAA VII 49–56) list numerous compositions written on clay tablets as well as on wooden writing‐boards that were acquired from various Babylonian and Assyrian scholars. Before the tablets went into the royal library, they were marked in ink with Assurbanipal’s name (see Figure 21.1). These acquisitions added a total of more than 1469 clay tablets and 137 writing‐boards to the royal library (Fincke 2003/04: 125). While overall, according to the library records, tablets outnumbered writing‐boards, for three text genres the opposite was true: medical texts (7 : 27) and lamentations (2 : 12) were written predominantly, and extispicy texts (69) exclusively on writing‐boards. Many Babylonian writing‐boards were apparently used by Assyrian scribes to make new copies (Hunger 1968 nos. 318–39 often), while others were stored with those written on site by Assyrian scholars (see e.g. SAA VIII 19, 499). Unfortunately, none of the writing‐boards from Nineveh have survived the ravages of time.

  Figure 21.1 A colophon with the name of Assurbanipal added in ink on a cuneiform tablet from Nineveh. K. 11055 + D.T. 273.

  Source: Reproduced with permission of the Trustees of The British Museum.

  Like his father Esarhaddon, Assurban
ipal appointed both Assyrian and Babylonian scribes and scholars to copy texts (SAA X 100, 101), and he even supervised the layout of new tablets: “[concerning the] new tablets that are being written, [the king] has spoken [as] follows about us: ‘[…] …; there is much space, there is much […]. [As]sign some ten […] lines and send them to me. I shall have a look’” (SAA X 30 obv. 8–13). The Assyrian king also made decisions concerning the contents of individual compositions: “The series should be rev[ised]. Let the king command: two ‘long’ tablets containing explanations of antiquated words should be removed, and two tablets of bārûtu (extispicy) should be put in (instead),” the chief diviner Marduk‐šumu‐uṣur suggested to Esarhaddon (SAA X 177 obv. 15–rev. 6). The king decided which tablets of a series were worth keeping and even modified the wording of certain texts. One scribe wrote: “let me read the tablets in the presence of the king, my lord, and let me put down on them whatever is agreeable to the king; whatever is not acceptable to the king, I shall remove from them. The tablets I am speaking about are worth preserving until far‐off days” (SAA X 373 rev. 4–13). Here, the scribe was not referring to letters or reports, which were more likely to be discarded than reviewed, but to literary texts. Another scholar referring to editorial work on scholarly compositions stated: “the king, my lord, should have a look; let them remove what is to be removed, and add what is to be added” (SAA X 103 rev. 1’–4’).