Before the Throne

by Mahfouz, Naguib

  “Why didn’t you bolster your rule by sharing the throne with your brother?” wise Imhotep asked her.

  “He was not, like me, of the sun god’s lineage,” she rejoined. “His interest was in weaving intrigues, and I had to be on guard from him. I was advised to have him murdered, but I detested treachery and the spilling of blood.”

  “Should it be understood from what you have said that the marital relations between you were merely official?” probed the Sage Ptahhotep.

  “Yes,” said Hatshepsut.

  “Did you spend your life as a virgin?” he continued.

  “You have no right to pose such a question, and the queen is free to disregard it,” snapped Osiris.

  Isis stepped in, “A daughter that would make any mother proud, and in need of no defense.”

  Osiris then directed, “Onto your seat among the Immortals.”

  17

  HORUS HAILED, “King Thutmose the Third!”

  A short, strongly built man, whose features projected majesty, entered the room wrapped in his shroud, then stood submissively before the throne.

  “He took the throne at Hatshepsut’s decease,” read Thoth, Scribe of the Gods, “purging the administration of his rivals, while seizing the reins of power with an iron grasp. He bestowed favor on the clergy of Amun, granting them primacy over all the priesthoods of the Two Lands. He mustered both an army and a fleet whose peers the nation had not known before, and boldly embarked on numerous wars, thereby creating the greatest empire that the ancient world had seen until his time. He annexed Asia Minor, the Upper Euphrates, the Mediterranean islands, the Western Desert oases, the highlands of Somalia, and the cataracts of the Upper Nile—making Egypt the crossroads for the races of all nations, the repository of traded goods and commodities. He built temples, forts, and obelisks, both within Egypt and in all the countries attached to her, leaving behind him a homeland perched at the summit of greatness and civilization.”

  Osiris invited Thutmose III to speak.

  “At the start of my life, I tasted oppression as no king has known it,” said Thutmose III. “Noting the strength with which the gods had endowed me, I was more deserving of rule than were my siblings. Yet though I acquired knowledge of the world, and of religion, I was denied my right because of a trifling technicality—my mother’s origin as a commoner. I did not arrive at my right due to trickery, as some have said. Rather, the god Amun revealed me to his priests during his feast day. He stopped in front of me as I stood before the clergy, announcing his choice of me for the throne. I then prostrated myself before him in acceptance of his blessing.

  “But the queen’s faction set up a wall around me, and I dwelt in the shadows, like a man without the slightest weight. And so, when I seized the key positions of power after the death of the queen, I brought down the sternest chastisement on the men who had usurped my legitimate authority and sullied my marital bed. The woman’s reign left only weakness as its legacy, for the army had fallen apart, while sedition spread through our foreign dominions as the prestige of Egypt and of her god Amun perished.

  “The empire had been my greatest dream—not the love of killing, or the lust for wealth. Rather, I longed to spread the rays of Egyptian civilization, so that its radiance would shine over all the peoples around us, and Amun would occupy the highest place amongst all the gods.”

  “I witness that you achieved all of our dreams altogether,” Ahmose I declared, “and acknowledge that you knew victory tens of times, but defeat not even once.”

  “What did you do for the peasants?” asked Abnum.

  “My soldiers, officers, and commanders were drawn from them,” Thutmose III replied. “I improved the methods of irrigation, took care of their needs, and exterminated the poverty in the places where they lived. I shifted a great many of them toward work in industries, crafts, and trade in the cities.”

  “You erected your empire,” the Sage Ptahhotep upbraided him, “on the skulls of thousands upon thousands of Egyptians and others!”

  “There is no avoiding death,” rejoined Thutmose III. “Better a man die while building glory and good than wasting away in a plague or being bitten by a snake. In truth, I was not a tyrant, nor did I love the shedding of blood. I planned my wars based on thoroughness and surprise, to obtain the swiftest victory possible, with the least number of losses. After the siege of Megiddo, all of my enemies—soldiers, princes and kings—fell into my hands. They begged for mercy and my heart felt for them—so I let them live.

  “I sent their sons to Thebes to learn science and civilization, to prepare them to rule their countries, rather than using Egyptian governors. This was a wise and humane policy not known before me.”

  “If it weren’t for the riches that I left you,” heckled Hatshepsut, “you would not have been able to launch a single campaign among the many you made in Asia.”

  “You did indeed leave me great wealth,” conceded Thutmose III, “but you left the army in a mortal condition, and corruption was rampant among those closest to you.”

  “You are still a resentful, wrong-headed, and rotten person,” protested Hatshepsut. “You remain determined to impugn my honor without any proof.”

  “I warn you not to exchange such wounding words,” Osiris rebuked them.

  “Did you love her, my son?” asked Isis.

  “She used to mock my short stature—before which the kings of all nations would prostrate themselves abjectly.”

  “This great son is worthy,” Isis lauded Thutmose III, “because he brought prestige to Egypt for many long ages.”

  “Go take your place among the Immortals,” commanded Osiris.

  18

  HORUS BELLOWED, “King Amenhotep the Second!”

  A gigantic man entered, inspiring awe with this height and broad build, marching in his shroud until he loomed before the throne.

  “The throne has never known a man of his portly power,” recited Thoth, Recorder of the Sacred Court. “His age was one of peace, as he devoted himself to building and public works.”

  Osiris asked Amenhotep II to speak.

  “I was strong, so all those near me were afraid of me,” he began. “I held them all to their duty, as though my eye followed their every move. I had a bow that only I could draw and shoot. Yet the well-established stability called for me to center my mission on building and construction—and so I did.”

  “What was your view regarding the grandeur of your forebears?” asked the Sage Ptahhotep.

  “They were my highest example,” answered Amenhotep II. “Yet I sometimes felt inadequate in comparison with them, and a great depression would seize me.”

  “In any case,” said Isis, “you ruled and you built, while your times did not demand anything more than what you offered.”

  “Take your seat among the Immortals,” Osiris told him.

  19

  HORUS CALLED OUT, “King Thutmose the Fourth!”

  A tall, stringy man came in. As he stood before the throne, Thoth read from the holy scroll, “He came to power when the heir apparent died. A revolt broke out in the Asian territories, and he put the rebels down. He married Mutemwia, daughter of the king of Mitanni.”

  Osiris invited Thutmose IV to speak.

  “I was not designated to take the throne,” the king began. “One day, while visiting the Great Sphinx, I sat down in the shade of his paws. Something like drowsiness caressed me, and I heard the Sphinx’s voice asking me to remove the sands from around him—and promising me the kingship if I did. Immediately, I called the workmen and ordered them to free him, assuming the entire responsibility for that myself. Then what had been predicted came to pass, as the heir apparent died, and I found myself on the throne without a rival.

  “From the first day, I understood it was my duty to preserve the grandeur of our inheritance. So I punished the rebels and, in order to strengthen international ties, I married the daughter of Mitanni’s king.”

  “Such a step looks like weakn
ess to me,” scolded Hatshepsut.

  “I considered it a sensible policy,” replied Thutmose IV.

  “Choosing a queen from abroad is a matter fraught with peril!” interjected Khufu.

  “I agree with the king that it was a very wise decision,” opined the Sage Ptahhotep.

  “Moreover,” added Thutmose IV, “our royal harem has always included women from foreign nations.”

  “This man has done his duty, both at home and abroad,” declared Isis.

  “Proceed to your seat among the Immortals,” Osiris bid him.

  20

  HORUS HERALDED, “King Amenhotep the Third and Queen Tiye!”

  The royal couple came in, advancing in their shrouds until they halted before the throne.

  Then Thoth, Scribe of the Gods, read aloud, “Queen Tiye was invited to rule alongside the king, whose era was one of such strength and prosperity as never had been seen before, while Egypt drank in the goods and wealth of the world. Meanwhile, Amenhotep III remained effectively vigilant over his empire. He put down any rebellion anywhere it arose, enjoying life as no pharaoh had done before him. He built palaces and temples, and displayed a fondness for food, drink, and women. In his final days, he married a daughter of the king of Mitanni who was the same age as his grandchildren, and who brought about his demise.”

  Osiris then invited the king to speak.

  “I inherited the empire from my mighty grandfather, Thutmose III,” said Amenhotep III, “and I was determined to inherit his greatness, as well. At that time there was no space for the empire to expand, so instead I reinforced its allies and crushed those who rose up against it. I displayed my greatness through a campaign of construction, and by providing material comfort to the masses. I defied tradition by marrying a woman from the common people: she was an outstanding partner for me in ruling the country, in the charm and wisdom that she brought to me. In the end, I left behind me an age that remains a byword for happiness and plenty.”

  “I was pleased by your testimonial to the queen’s qualifications to rule,” lauded Hatshepsut. “That is a witness to the competence of women as a whole, and an eloquent response to the attacks against them by their enemies.”

  “Tiye was a magnificent queen,” agreed Amenhotep III, “according to the testimony of her enemies even before that of her friends.”

  “Yet you humiliated her in the most despicable way with your insatiable lust for other women,” decried Abnum.

  “Every king has his harem,” Amenhotep III replied. “These fleeting passions did not diminish the great role of the queen.”

  “And you wed in your senility a woman the age of your granddaughter?” continued Abnum.

  “I wanted to strengthen the ties between Egypt and Mitanni,” said Amenhotep III.

  “Lies are forbidden in this sacred hall!” Osiris warned him.

  “In truth,” Amenhotep III answered apologetically, “I had heard of her unsurpassed beauty, and I was insane about this quality. Despite illness and old age, I overindulged in love until it undid me.”

  “Was this the acme of your long life’s wisdom?” the Sage Ptahhotep needled him.

  “Death by love is fairer by far than death by illness,” said Amenhotep III.

  Osiris asked Queen Tiye to speak.

  “The king made me his wife out of love,” she began. “I was drawn intensely to him, panting with passion and the splendor of Pharaoh. Love bound us together from then on always.”

  “One day he consulted me about some of his business as king, and my opinion deeply impressed him. ‘You are a truly wise woman, as much as you are a much beloved female,’ he told me.”

  “From that day forward, he never resolved an issue without first hearing my view, and we began to receive the ministers and other officials together. I employed my own personal vision in handling the business that came to our attention. Every high office holder in the kingdom acknowledged my ability and sagacity—the priests rushed to me for guidance when the religious crisis sparked by my son Akhenaten’s creed grew out of control. I worked as hard I as could to avoid the catastrophe and prevent civil war.

  “As for my husband’s obsession with other women, all kings have their concubines. Not only should a wife refrain from plotting her revenge on this score—it is also no shame for her to select his beauties for him, until he purges himself clean, restoring his sense of well-being. Through the force of my will as an exceptional woman, I triumphed, contenting myself that a queen is no ordinary female when responsible for her husband’s policies.”

  “Was the queen never vanquished by the woman in you?” Hatshepsut put to her.

  “I never knew defeat, except before my son.”

  “But a woman is still a woman,” insisted Ptahhotep.

  “Yet Tiye was of a kind never seen before—nor shall occur again,” the queen replied.

  “This lady has proven the worthiness of woman to rule even more than Hatshepsut herself had,” advised Isis. “Her husband was a great king, and how preposterous that his appetite for women or taste for the pleasures of life in any way reduced his performance as pharaoh. Only after he had made his lowest subjects happy did he live a life of comfort and ease, in which they also shared with him. My heart is gladdened by this son and this daughter.”

  And so Osiris commanded them, “Go take your seats among the Immortals.”

  21

  HORUS HAILED, “King Akhenaten and Queen Nefertiti!”

  In came a man whose face fused both the male and the female, along with a ravishing woman. They walked forward in their winding sheets until they stood before the throne.

  Thoth read from the divine tome, “Dual heirs to the throne and rule, they carried out their duties faithfully. A religious revolution dawned, calling for the worship of a new, sole deity. Abolishing the old gods, Akhenaten proclaimed the reign of love and peace, and the equality of human beings. Yet internally the country fell prey to dissent and corruption, while abroad the empire faced both dismemberment and loss. The land found itself on the verge of civil war, and the king fell from power. A counterrevolution then took hold: the historians and kings blotted his epoch from the annals, considering it the most destructive period ever for the country—one that destroyed it utterly.”

  Osiris bid Akhenaten to address the court.

  “From a very early age,” began Akhenaten, “I persistently sought to fill my soul with knowledge and divine wisdom, until the celestial inspiration descended into my heart—the light of the one and only God, and the call to worship him. I dedicated my life to that, then my rule, when I took the throne—in pursuit of the same goal. Immediately there arose a conflict between my luminous cause and the darknesses of ignorance and tradition, the ambitions of the priests and governors for higher rank and glory, the subjugation of the peasantry and the subjects of the empire. I never once resorted to violence in my holy spiritual struggle—I never approved the use of bloodshed or coercion. For some years, I tasted victory, and well-being spread its wings. But then the clouds of conspiracy and intrigue gathered, and the armies of darkness crept in around us, until they besieged us on all sides. I fell without any strength left, and defeat settled over me. Yet my trust in the final triumph never for a moment wavered. Never had a king known a life as heavenly as mine, nor an end so wretched.”

  “Believe what he has said, O Lord,” Nefertiti beseeched Osiris. “We waged the struggle of heroes—until the forces of evil overwhelmed us. The looming tower was brought low, its foundations fallen in.”

  The first to comment was the wise Imhotep. “We had always surmised that the power of the one Deity lay behind Amun, Ra, Ptah, and the pantheon of gods,” he said. “But we observed that the people clung to their bodily images, gathering around them in every province to gain strength and solace, so we let things continue as they were. This was a mercy to believing hearts, saving them from oblivion.”

  “We found the people lost in error,” rejoined Akhenaten. “The time had come for
them to face the Truth, in all its aspects.”

  “Handling the people is a difficult art, Your Highness,” answered Ptahhotep. “He who does not master it will find his benevolent impulses frustrated, and will kill what he loves while striving to save it.”

  “If it weren’t for those seeking personal interest,” complained Akhenaten, “we could have achieved the salvation of those we love.”

  “What did you do with those who opposed you for selfish motives?” asked Abnum.

  “I committed myself from the beginning,” answered Akhenaten, “to treat others with kindness, to avoid harm and aggression.”

  “Evildoers deserve naught but the club and the sword!” exclaimed Abnum.

  “I believed in love for one’s enemies, as well as one’s friends.”

  “Your message was lost through your own naivete,” Abnum upbraided him. “The only good man is a warrior!”

  “I left for you the greatest empire in history,” added Thutmose III. “How could it have perished when you such had an incomparable army waiting at your command?”

  “Love and peace were my ideals,” replied Akhenaten.

  “Please go on,” Osiris urged him.

  “I preached for the One God, who is the Father and the Mother to all humanity,” Akhenaten continued. “They are all equal under His shelter. I would call for love to replace the sword in the relations between people.”

  “No wonder the empire was lost with this kind of thinking,” Thutmose III reproved him. “You must be crazy!”

  “I will not permit anyone’s speech to cross the bounds of courtesy,” Osiris rebuked him. “Apologize!”

  “I apologize,” Thutmose III replied, “but I also declare my regret that my life was spent in vain!”

  “I unified Egypt with the sword,” Menes reminded Akhenaten, “on a hill of skulls. By necessity, the empire was created by the same means. Yet to our misfortune, an enemy called ‘ideas’ inflicted itself upon us, invading us from within—and turned our glory into a laughingstock.”