The Early History of the Ancient Near East (9000-2000 BC)

by Hans J Nissen

  If, in what follows, we mainly discuss the problem of the transition from the Early Dynastic to the Akkadian period and the further development of forms of political organization, and do not attempt a detailed account of social and political conditions, this is because we continually find ourselves in the dilemma that caused us problems in chapter 5. The archaeological finds scarcely permit us to make any statements except on art, because we have scarcely any excavation data. Nor can any technological innovations be shown to have taken place; if there were any, they must have occurred on a level not manifest in the archaeological evidence. The written sources are hardly ever detailed enough to reveal small-scale connections or short-term changes. If we wished to proceed merely from the material known to us, we would obtain a very fragmentary picture. Indeed, contradictions might even arise in the ordering of one or the other aspect of it, because the material in many instances does not permit us to lay the groundwork basis.

  We have hardly any material from stratigraphic excavations. All too often, we must content ourselves with art-historical statements about isolated objects that are out of context. We have already put behind us the periods in which, with little effort, we were able to find archaeological material that proved to be the product of more or less rapid changes in production methods. Ideas about changes in technology and in the forms of organization of production acquired in this way often provided the starting point for statements about the economic and social background in earlier periods. There is no way of obtaining this sort of evidence for the period we are dealing with now, although this does not mean that no further changes took place in the fields of technology and organization. Presumably, these changes took place at a different level, so that, at best, direct effects on the appearance of the end product were very limited, or at least limited to the extent that we can no longer recognize them.

  There is also very little to be reported about changes in the area of settlement systems, changes that provided us with important clues as to the overall process of development in the case of the earlier periods. It is true that we can make some assumptions here, such as, for example, that the concentration of political power in the north of Babylonia could have had the effect of increasing the amount of settlement activity in this part of the country. Opportunities for interpretation available to us through archaeological surface investigations are very limited for the period of the Akkad Dynasty, however, and it is only from this sort of investigation that we might expect to obtain the relevant information. During the period of the Akkad Dynasty, pottery, as the material we can mainly draw upon for the dating of settlement systems, became so mass-produced and differed so slightly from the mass-produced wares of the previous Early Dynastic III period and the following period of the Third Dynasty of Ur, that unequivocal classification of a site as belonging to one of the abovementioned periods solely on the grounds of the pottery found during surface investigations is hardly ever possible. Unfortunately, seals, clay tablets, and inscribed bricks, which would permit unequivocal dating, are not among the everyday finds in the course of an archaeological surface investigation. As far as we can tell, our evaluation of the surface finds shows that in one important point we can determine that there was no change with regard to the previous period—that is, in the distribution of settlement sizes. Babylonia remained an area almost exclusively of urban centers, with only a very few rural settlements. The assertion that the pattern of settlements during the period of the Akkad Dynasty can hardly have differed greatly from that of the earlier period is not contradicted by the texts either.

  Thus, if we wished to proceed only on the basis of the primary sources available to us, we would have an extremely incomplete picture. Often enough, our material would not even be sufficient to allow us to establish some sort of basic outline. This is even more unfortunate since we are forced to assume that the creation in the towns of a centralized administration and communication system—that is, the establishment of a “civil service”—must have had its effects upon the social structuring of society. In every case, this “civil service” must have had stronger ties of loyalty to the central government than to the local powers. Unfortunately, the written evidence hardly helps us solve this problem. The few texts that allow us to make any relevant statements at all in each case only throw light on the smallest of details, which can in no way be merged into a larger picture. In addition, the geographically scattered origins of the texts make the danger of attempting to piece together tiles that never belonged in the same mosaic a very real one.

  In spite of all these difficulties, the evidence handed down to us does allow us to draw a fairly coherent picture of the historical progression, which will be briefly sketched here to provide us with a framework. A member of the upper classes belonging to the Semitic speaking group, known later under the throne name of “Sharruken,” “the true king,” which was corrupted to Sargon, reached a high position in the administration of the city of Kish. Under conditions that are not clear to us, he was able to seize power for himself, but he did not choose the old city of Kish as his capital. Instead, he chose the town of Akkad, which was probably in the neighborhood, and thus it was Sargon who first gave it some importance. Unfortunately, to this day, we have still not been able to locate the city of Akkad.

  Sargon was clearly able to expand the scope of his power very quickly, helped by the fact that in the meantime Lugalzaggesi of Umma had begun an attempt to unite larger areas of Babylonia under his rule, starting from the south. Victory over Lugalzaggesi thus provided Sargon with what was already a much greater portion of the country. After conquering the whole area, Sargon attempted to extent his sphere of influence beyond the borders of Babylonia. His own inscriptions mention Mari and Tuttul on the central Euphrates, in what is today Syria, as well as Ebla. Later writings also credit Sargon with expeditions to Cyprus and Anatolia, and these may be related to actual campaigns carried out by him. However, like Sargon’s other campaigns, these in no way led to permanent possessions and were probably not even meant to. These efforts to extend his sphere of influence were also directed to the east and north.

  With these campaigns Sargon went far beyond the scale of operations of the earlier period, so that in them we can also surely glimpse an element of the stabilization of his power. However, we have a more important clue for this in the statement that “sons of Akkad fulfill the role of the ensi in the country.” Clearly, his own people had been installed as governors in the conquered areas. This process, the creation of direct links between parts of Babylonia and the capital city, is certainly an innovation in comparison with the earlier period. It is also a key to the answer to the question of why—in contrast to earlier attempts—Sargon’s efforts to achieve centralization were successful. Further evidence, showing that administrative changes were carried out in order to secure the conquered areas, can be found in other, different parts of the writings. Thus, for example, the assertion that Sargon “made the ships from Meluhha, Magan, and Dilmun anchor at the quay of Akkad,” must obviously be interpreted to mean that he secured the monopoly in what was most definitely a lucrative trade with the countries on the Gulf and the coasts of the Arabian Sea. The statement that he provided for 5,400 men every day could point to the existence of a standing army, or in any case to a large group of people who were charged with central duties.

  We can only assume that in spite of all these precautions, which aimed at cutting off any possibility of internal revolt, the years of Sargon’s reign did not pass without local uprisings. By the time of the reign of his son and successor Rimush, at the latest, efforts to win back independence had grown to massive proportions. Rimush had to fight against what was clearly a broad coalition of cities under the leadership of a pretender from Ur. We hear about both this victory and a victory over Elam in the inscriptions of Rimush. The find of a votive inscription mentioning Rimush at Tell Brak on the Upper Habur river in present-day Syria, and the naming after Rimush of a place that must be looked for to
the north of Nineveh, show that areas of northern Mesopotamia and Syria had also some ties to the Akkadian state under this ruler.

  Figure 63. Fragment of a stela of Sargon of Akkad, showing prisoners being taken away in a “neck-stock.” From W. Orthmann, Propyläen Kunstgeschichte 14 (Berlin, 1975), fig. 103. Copyright: State Organization of Antiquities and Heritage. Baghdad.

  The little information we possess about the reign of Manishtushu, the elder son of Sargon, who followed after his brother, only allows us to draw the conclusion that he had to struggle with similar difficulties and managed to maintain his kingdom at about the same size. Special attention must be paid to the mention of a victory over Anshan, recently identified as the former name of Tell Malyan, not far from Persepolis. From a campaign against thirty-two cities “on the other side of the sea”—which probably means from the region to the east of the Gulf—he brought back the “black stone” used to make his statues. The aim of these long-distance undertakings—to secure the supply of raw materials—here becomes particularly clear.

  Manishtushu’s son Naram-Sin was his successor, and the exceptional power he possessed raises him, for his contemporaries and for later writers, to the same level as his grandfather Sargon. We are very well informed about his reign, even if at times this information comes from later inscriptions. A number of the inscriptions bear both his name and the determinative for a god, whereas there are others without this sign. Placed in front of particular names, the sign shows that they are the names of gods, so that Naram-Sin appears, at least in some of his inscriptions, to have been a deified ruler. The formality of deification probably means that we can assume, with some degree of certainty, that this title could not be used at will, but that, after this act, the name of the ruler could only be written in this way. We can therefore proceed on the assumption that the difference in the way the name was written corresponds to a chronological division. The inscriptions that bear the name of the ruler without the determinative are, therefore, probably to be placed at the beginning of his reign.

  If we order the years of Naram-Sin’s reign according to this division, campaigns and victories against cities that do not receive any further mention and against the eastern lands of Elam and Magan take place at the beginning, while struggles against the inhabitants of the mountain regions to the east and against Syria are concentrated in the later period. As before, there is a recognizable schema: first, uprisings in one’s own country had to be put down before the consolidation of the outer regions could be considered. The clear necessity of fighting against inhabitants of the eastern mountains is of significance here, since the groups known as the Guti, who are in the text tradition made responsible for the collapse of the Akkadian empire, came from this area. We shall be discussing this further, just as we shall be discussing the significance of the abovementioned deification of rulers, which can here be proved for the first time in Babylonian history.

  All that we maintain here is that the act of deification was probably directed against some principle of traditional political ideology. It is probably because of this that Naram-Sin acquired the reputation in the later religious literature—and even beyond that—of being an unpopular and unfortunate ruler, whereas in the original data there is nothing to indicate the disastrous end later writings speak of.

  We also find a grouping of the inscriptions according to whether the name is written with or without the determinative for a god in the case of Naram-Sin’s son, Sharkalisharri. Here, the sequence of events was probably the other way around, since Sharkalisharri probably found himself increasingly restricted to the narrow limits of his own city. This means that he must have assumed his father’s tradition at the beginning, but have given it up soon after, presumably in partial response to a new constellation of power favoring the particularist principle as opposed to the central state that, almost like the swing of a pendulum, brought about the dissolution of larger alliances into smaller spheres of influence.

  The sequence of rulers who can actually be proved to have belonged to one family comes to an end with Sharkalisharri. At the same time, the end of his reign signifies the end of the political entity that, for the first time, had managed for several generations to rule over the whole of Babylonia, from the city of Akkad. For this reason, we want to interrupt our presentation of external events and turn to other problems connected with the period of the Akkad Dynasty.

  In chapter 5 the probability was suggested that two well-founded concepts of the political organization of Babylonia confronted each other from time to time and should be seen as the forces that determined Babylonia’s political development. If these contrasts also played a decisive role under the Akkad Dynasty, then this theory can now be relatively easily tested. Since the political structure of this period can, without any doubt, be defined as a central state, we should expect this state to have defended itself vigorously against particularist tendencies emanating from the religious centers.

  However, resistance by particularist interests reveals itself as the resistance of religious centers in only a handful of cases. Thus, not only the attempts of the different city states during the reign of the first ruler of the new dynasty to recover their independence, but also reports according to which individual cities or coalitions of cities from southern Babylonia attempted to free themselves from the central state must be excluded from the argument. It cannot be denied that in these cases the main idea behind the uprising was solely the attempt to win back independence. We cannot determine how far the steps Sargon took to have his daughter Enheduanna made a high priestess of the city god of Ur—with the possible intention of quelling local resistance—can be related to this. The fact that this was, in any case, regarded by the local body of priests as an affront—which I tend to see as a calculated one—was made very clear when Enheduanna was finally driven out of Ur.

  Figure 64. Akkadian period stela from Tello. From W. Orthmann, Propyläen Kunstgeschichte 14 (Berlin, 1975), fig. 102. Courtesy, Musée du Louvre.

  Thus, the situation with regard to sources corresponds to the fact that in only one case do we have enough information about different aspects to enable us to bring them together in some sort larger association. This information is all related to the reign of Naram-Sin, the fourth ruler of the dynasty. However, in contrast to our usual way of proceeding, we shall in this case make use of information that comes from a somewhat later period as well. The great number of original inscriptions by Naram-Sin written down at a somewhat later date, as well as the numerous other reports about him, make it appear certain that at that time they still had very exact knowledge about Naram-Sin’s period. Thus it is perfectly possible to place these later texts at the same level of dependability as the contemporary sources.

  The only point that can be proved beyond a shadow of doubt in support of our argument in this connection is an apparent superficiality—the self-deification already mentioned, which was first observed under Naram-Sin. In one case, we have evidence for this from a pictorial representation of the ruler on his victory stela, where he is shown wearing a horned crown, the symbol of divinity (fig. 65). In addition, the determinative for a god is placed in front of the name of the ruler in numerous inscriptions, and finally, Naram-Sin is referred to, in numerous inscriptions of consecration and devotion made by his subjects, as “the god of Akkad.”

  It would hardly be the right approach to the problem to see this deification only as an act of hybris and the last step on the way to “oriental despotism,” especially since the idea of deified human beings was not a particularly new one. Three hundred years earlier, in a list of gods from Shuruppak, other ancient rulers such as Lugalbanda and Gilgamesh are already listed among the gods. The claim to divinity alone would scarcely have caused as much uproar as the texts seem to suggest, unless this deification has to be looked at against a different background.

  In fact, the stumbling block was probably not the deification itself. The title “god of Akkad,” which appears in a few inscr
iptions, possibly suggests an interpretation different from that given above. This is quite clearly the title that actually belonged to the city god, or, in the case of Akkad, to the city goddess, Ishtar of Akkad. In order to grasp the importance of this, we should recall the more ancient view according to which, in a somewhat rigid form, the city god had a right to the possessions of the whole city. In this view, it was impossible to imagine a city god who did not possess land, and it was this concept that created the theoretical basis for the development of the special form of the “temple city” in the late Early Dynastic period.

  The conclusion to be drawn about the designation of Naram-Sin as the “god of Akkad” is this: by the act of deification, he placed himself in the position of being able to enjoy all the rights of the city god, thus killing two birds with one stone. On the one hand, he would—at least in his capital city—by these means have resolved in his own person the conflict between particularist interests, supported by religion, and the idea of the centralized state. On the other, the process must have meant that he claimed title to the land. Thus it is clear that this act must have been extraordinarily disturbing, not only for the local priests, but also for the holders of religious office throughout the whole country, since in both respects it was a central attack on the most important aspects of the power of local interests.

  Figure 65. Victory stela of Naram-Sin of Akkad. From W. Orthmann, Propyläen Kunstgeschichte 14 (Berlin, 1975), fig. 104. Courtesy, Musée du Louvre.

  Contemporary evidence for this action may be missing, but a document from the period of the Third Dynasty of Ur first becomes understandable to us through this thesis. The composition in question is a quite long historical poem entitled “A Curse of Akkad” and describes things that happened during the reign of Naram-Sin. In it, Naram-Sin is accused of an unnamed sacrilege against Enlil, the city god of Nippur and highest god in the pantheon. Because of this sacrilege, he is supposed to have aroused the general wrath of the gods. However, only Enlil and the city goddess of Akkad, Ishtar of Akkad, are actually mentioned by name in this connection. By way of punishment, Enlil installs an opposing ruler in Nippur, but he is conquered by Naram-Sin. In this particular action, Naram-Sin destroyed Enlil’s shrine in Nippur. As punishment, the gods called the Guti, a people from the mountains bordering Babylonia to the east, into the land to chastise Naram-Sin and his “house.” The poem ends with the rejoicing of the city goddess of Akkad because Akkad, her own city, has been destroyed!