Atlantis and the Ten Plagues of Egypt: The Secret History Hidden in the Valley of the Kings

by Phillips, Graham

  Akhenaten's image completely dominated the city, and in life the man himself ensured that his subjects were continually aware of his physical presence. We can see from the tomb illustrations that the royal palace had an architectural feature unique to ancient Egypt: a special window where the king and his family could appear before their followers. Like the Pope from his balcony overlooking St Peter's Square, from here Akhenaten would regularly address his subjects en masse in a way that no other Egyptian pharaoh seems to have done.

  Amarna was ringed by a natural amphitheatre of cliffs on both sides of the Nile, where a series of fourteen immovable tablets, ranging from two to eight metres in height, were hewn . into the rocks to delineate the city's sacred perimeters. These boundary stelae, carved with reliefs showing Akhenaten and his family adoring their god, had been inscribed with lengthy decrees made by the king. Not only were they damaged, like the rock tombs, by the hammers of the local populace in the late nineteenth century, but they further suffered the far more devastating attentions of treasure hunters. A legend had grown up that Ali Baba's secret treasure-cave was somewhere in the area, and in 1906 one of the stelae was actually blown to bits with dynamite in the mistaken belief that the entrance lay beyond it. Thanks to early explorers like the Scottish laird Robert Hay in the 1820s, however, original drawings of the stelae still survive in the British Museum.

  Erected while the city was being built, the boundary stelae enable us to reconstruct something of the city's brief history and the thinking behind its creation. Now identified by a different letter, three of them bear a series of initial proclamations that are dated to Year 5, Month 8, Day 13 of Akhenaten's reign, while the others bear proclamations made exactly a year later, and all but three of these bear a postscript of Year 8, Month 5, Day 8. From the assorted inscriptions we learn that eight months into the fifth year of his reign, Akhenaten came to Amarna officially to found the city, set up an altar and establish the city's perimeters, and by the end of his eighth year construction was largely completed.

  In the initial proclamations we are told that something terrible had happened which had evidently persuaded Akhenaten to build the city. The king declares that something had been heard which was more evil than what he had heard in the fourth year of his reign, more evil than what he had heard in his first year, and more evil even than what his predecessors Amonhotep III and Tuthmosis IV had heard. What was this evil? Could it offer a clue to the mystery of Smenkhkare's eternal imprisonment in Tomb 55?

  Infuriatingly, this inscription had been badly damaged even when the early explorers made their drawings and we can no longer tell what the great evil was meant to be. This damage was clearly the work of Akhenaten's anti-Atenist successors, and seems to have been an attempt to eradicate what would otherwise have been a vital clue as to what lay behind the establishment of the new religion. All that can be discerned from the surviving text is that certain observances could somehow make amends, such as festivals of the Aten, the imposition of dues, and an enigmatic reference to the land of Kush to the south of Egypt.

  We can tell, though, from the surviving inscriptions that the changes wrought by Akhenaten were truly revolutionary. In the undamaged section of the text that follows we learn how Akhenaten founded the city in the location he believed the Aten originated:

  His majesty mounted a great chariot of electrum, like the Aten when he rises on the horizon and fills the land with his love, and took a goodly road to Akhetaten, the place of origin which the Aten had created for himself that he might be happy therein. It was his son, the only one of Re, who founded it for him as his monument when his father commanded him to make it. Heaven was joyful, the earth was glad, every heart was filled with delight when they beheld him.

  Akhenaten himself then vows that he will build the city in that particular location and nowhere else, and no one – not even the queen – will persuade him otherwise. He continues by listing the buildings to be erected on the site, including an estate of the Aten, a temple of the Aten, and a 'house of rejoicing'. There were also to be built the apartments of the pharaoh and his queen, and tombs were to be prepared for them and their daughter Meritaten in the eastern hills. He goes on to declare that if any of them died elsewhere they must be bought back here for burial.

  From the later proclamations, dated exactly a year after the first, we learn that the king is now residing in a tent in the city, from where he set out to re-establish his decrees and make a new vow. Accompanied by Nefertiti, Meritaten, and a second daughter, Meketaten, he mounted his state chariot, drove to the southernmost edge of the town and swore that he would never again leave the holy city. He then travelled to the northernmost boundary and repeated the oath. Finally, in the eighth year of his reign he travelled around the boundaries reaffirming the city's perimeters, presumably now that construction was completed, and inscriptions were added to some of the stelae to commemorate the event.

  Apart from revealing something of the city's sacred associations, the stelae further acquaint us with the growing royal family. Depicted either as reliefs or statues, the king and queen are first shown being followed by their eldest daughter Meritaten, later joined by the second daughter Meketaten, and finally by a third, Ankhesenpaaten. Although this would seem to suggest that Meketaten was born after the proclamations of the fifth year, and Ankhesenpaaten after the proclamations of the sixth year, we know from the reliefs in the rock tombs that they both had children of their own within twelve years. It would seem, therefore, that the daughters were only included in the royal entourage once they reached a certain age which, going by their depictions, would seem to be somewhere around five.

  The extent to which the royal family had broken with tradition is demonstrated by their attire. Although the habit worn by the king conforms to contemporary royal fashion – a kilt tied around the waist by a broad sash from which hangs an apron in front and an imitation bull's tail behind – his upper body is often bare, lacking the usual collar and armlets. Also the queen, although wearing a traditional robe with a shawl covering one shoulder, wears no jewellery. Likewise, the daughters' traditional gowns lack the customary adornments; even their hair, which is plaited into the conventional side-lock of infancy, is not confined by the usual slide.

  Perhaps the most important aspect of the boundary stelae is the insight they provide into Akhenaten's unique religious status and his personal attitude to the god. In the initial proclamations Akhenaten addresses his courtiers and nobles, informing them of his plans for the new city. He tells them that the Aten himself directed him to this site, and they respond in praise, accepting that the god communed solely with the king and with no one else.

  From the rock-tombs we can gather that Akhenaten had not only usurped the priesthood as sole spokesman for divine will, but had personally replaced the old funerary deities. Although the traditional funerary practices such as mummification and the depositing of grave goods with the deceased were retained, the wall reliefs show that Akhenaten had taken over the role previously played by gods like Osiris in caring for his subjects in the afterlife. It is to him they pray for favours in both life and death. An inscription in the tomb of the courtier Parennefer, for instance, calls Akhenaten 'Lord of Burial', while one in the tomb of the chief minister Ay asks Akhenaten for 'a life prolonged by thy favours'. Another inscription in Ay's tomb further echoes the acceptance of Akhenaten's infallibility: 'Thou arisest fair in the horizon of heaven, O living Aten, beginner of life . . . there are none who know thee save thy son Akhenaten. Thou hast made him wise in thy plans and thy power.'

  Akhenaten is unquestionably the one and only prophet of the Aten, and the boundary stelae provide a rare insight into how Akhenaten personally regarded his god. The initial proclamations include a text praising the Aten, seemingly in Akhenaten's own words:

  The great and living Aten [damaged section] . . . ordaining life, vigorously alive, my father [damaged section] . . . My wall of millions of cubits, my reminder of eternity, my witness of
what is eternal. He who fashions himself with his own two hands, he whom no craftsman has devised, he who is established in rising and setting each day ceaselessly, whether he is in heaven or earth, every eye beholds him without hindrance while he fills the land with his rays and makes everyone to live. In seeing him my eyes are satisfied daily when he rises in the temple of the Aten at Akhetaten and fills it with his own self by means of his rays, beauteous with love, and embraces me with them in life and power for ever and ever.

  Although Akhenaten, like other pharaohs, sees himself as the son of a god, his god is very different from other gods. In the phrase, 'he whom no craftsman has devised', Akhenaten affirms that, unlike other gods, the Aten cannot be represented by a physical likeness. Indeed, throughout the site the Aten is only ever represented by the sun disc symbol, and never by a statue or image – human or animal. Since the earliest dynastic times the gods of Egypt had been thought to inhabit their images, and the making of such idols was rigidly defined in the sacred texts. Once the image was made and consecrated it was regarded as a living being: it lived in its own 'great mansion', where it was tended by servants (the priests) who not only clothed and fed it (in the form of offerings), but actually woke it in the morning and put it to rest at night. All this ritual was condemned by Akhenaten, who prohibited the making of any such image of the Aten.

  The manner in which Akhenaten acted as both ruler and supreme prelate can be gained from the inscriptions in various tombs. Although the king still bears the title the pharaohs had used since the Old Kingdom – 'Son of the Sun-God' – he now he has an additional title: 'The Beautiful Child of the Aten'. It would seem that Akhenaten wished to distinguish himself from all his predecessors, in that he was not merely the vessel of his god, a nominal son, but of the same substance as his god, literally his offspring. Moreover, it would seem that Akhenaten and the Aten were seen to rule Egypt side by side. A particular event referenced in the tomb of Meryre, the overseer of the royal harem, is dated to year 12 of Akhenaten's reign, and the same event referenced in the tomb of the high steward Huya is dated to the twelfth year of the reign of the Aten. Evidently, like a king and his son, the pharaoh and his god were regarded as co-regents.

  Although Akhenaten is the sole spokesman for his god, his family apparently shares something of his divinity. Indeed, it is only they who are privileged to include the Aten in their names. Beside Akhenaten, whose name means 'Living spirit of the Aten', only his offspring such as Meritaten, Meketaten and Ankhesenpaaten, and his queen Nefertiti, whose title was Neferneferuaten, 'Fair is the beauty of the Aten', are granted such a distinction. In both the tombs and on the boundary stelae, the subjects which occur most frequently are the royal family making offerings before altars, bestowing decorations on favoured courtiers, and eating and drinking together at home. In all these scenes, no matter who else is present, the rays of the Aten only ever touch the royal family's bodies or hold an ankh – the symbol of life – to their nostrils, an honour denied all others, no matter how high their rank. It seems that the royal family was regarded as a holy family, and their daily prayers replaced the rituals once performed by the priesthood to keep the world in motion.

  Although, in theory, the pharaoh had always been absolute ruler, his religious role was more that of an icon or figurehead. The priesthood had the real authority in sacred matters. This is why the pharaohs had so indulged them, sometimes to the extent of their own ruin. It is wrong to think of the Egyptian priests simply as ministers of a modern church, attending to the spiritual well-being of their congregations. Various gods were considered responsible for the forces of nature, cultural accomplishments and fortunes of war, and each of them had to be appeased. The multitude of priests who saw to their veneration would have been regarded more like workers in the modern utilities industries than clergymen – essential to keep the wheels of the nation turning. In many ways Egypt was structured like a technological civilization without technology. As modern civilization would collapse without its power workers, Egypt imagined it would collapse without its priesthood.

  The general populace played no part in the temple activities. They did not go there once a week to worship or pray, or visit the priests for seek solace or to ask for guidance. In fact, if they did attempt to enter a temple they would probably have been executed for sacrilege. Personal religion was a personal matter: the state and priesthood couldn't care less which gods you prayed to, or venerated with altars in the privacy of your own home. In Amarna, however, all this changed. Although there was still a priesthood of sorts, the royal family carried out the principal veneration of the god, and it was to Akhenaten you prayed to secure favours and blessings from the Aten.

  Akhenaten had, it seems, abandoned superstition, rejected graven images, and instigated a monotheistic faith. Just one of these innovations would have been unique for the period, not only in ancient Egypt but anywhere in the contemporary world. However, he apparently went even further – for the first time in history he made state religion accessible to the masses. At face value Akhenaten would seem to have been a religious visionary, years ahead of his time.

  Since the discovery of ancient Amarna, scholars have regarded Akhenaten as everything from a mystic to a maniac. The first, Flinders Petrie, saw him as a gentle sage and a moral philosopher: 'No king of Egypt, nor of any other part of the world, has ever carried out his honesty of expression so openly . . . Thus in every line Akhenaten stands out as perhaps the most original thinker that ever lived in Egypt, and one of the greatest idealists of the world.'

  Over the following century Akhenaten was seen in many different lights. In 1911 Arthur Weigall saw him as a great reformer, in the 1920s the British Egyptologist James Baikie saw him as a utopian romantic, and in the 1930s the philologist Alan Gardiner saw him as a godless heretic. Opinions range from such extremes as Akhenaten the pacifist to Akhenaten the religious fanatic. Even today the debate continues, the problem being that the evidence appears so contradictory.

  At first glance Akhenaten would seem to have been a kindly idealist. Other pharaohs are depicted, without fail, as austere personifications of absolute power; they are seen leading armies into battle, smiting enemies or sitting in judgement. Akhenaten's portrayals completely depart from this stereotype, depicting him as a caring, loving human being. Again and again, Amarna reliefs show him in intimate detail as a family man with his children on his knee, caressing them or dangling trinkets for them to snatch. He is even seen kissing his wife. A particular scene in the royal tomb actually shows him groping for Nefertiti's supportive arm as he sorrowfully mourns his daughter's death. No other pharaoh would dream of having himself revealed in such a familiar fashion. He also seems to have been an animal lover – unlike other kings of the dynasty he is never depicted hunting for sport. Akhenaten clearly sees himself as the benevolent and caring sovereign, something which one of his titles was chosen to emphasize: 'The good ruler who loves mankind'. Moreover, the king seems to have rated honesty as the prime virtue. Everywhere we find inscriptions using a phrase which appears to have been something of a royal motto: 'living in truth'.

  A popular theory in recent times has been to regard Akhenaten as a mild-mannered dreamer who lived in a world of his own and had no real authority over his country. Regardless of the merits or flaws of his regime, Akhenaten clearly had the personal influence to instate his religion, control the army and contain opposition. Any notion of some dainty young romantic skipping his way through the great temple at Karnak, clapping his hands and shouting 'everybody out', is clearly absurd. The deposition of the mighty priesthood would have required amazing resolve, remarkable aplomb, and the strategy of a coup d'état. Even if he played no direct part himself, he must either have had widespread support or an iron grip on power. Either way, Akhenaten was no idealist with his head in the clouds, but a strong and determined leader.

  Akhenaten certainly had no interest in maintaining the empire, however, which rapidly disintegrated during his reign. We have fir
st-hand evidence of his personal responsibility for this predicament, thanks to a remarkable discovery made in the late nineteenth century. In 1887, a peasant woman digging for fertilizer among the ancient ruins of Akhetaten unearthed a cache of over 300 inscribed clay tablets now called the Amarna Letters. Written in Akkadian, a Babylonian dialect which became the international diplomatic language of the ancient Near East, they were dispatches received from Asiatic envoys during Akhenaten's reign. They included repeated appeals for help in overcoming local insurrections and external aggression, and numerous communications from antagonists bandying accusations at one another, all of which went unheeded. Akhenaten was obviously far too busy playing prophet to concern himself with foreign affairs.

  On the other hand, Akhenaten was definitely no pacifist. The Amarna reliefs repeatedly emphasize his military authority. In many he is shown wearing either the Blue Crown or Nubian wig, both part of the king's military paraphernalia, rather than the ceremonial crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt. Scenes of military activity abound in Amarnan art: parades and military processions are commonplace, while soldiers are seen everywhere, guarding temples and palaces or manning the fortified watchtowers that bordered the city. According to American Egyptologist Alan Schulman, who made an extensive study of the military background to the Amarna period in the 1960s: 'If we may take the reliefs from the tombs of the nobles at face value, then the city was virtually an armed camp.' There can be little doubt that Akhenaten not only enjoyed the full support of the army, he revelled in military might.