By John Galvin
King Aha, "The Fighter," was not killed while unifying the
Nile's two warring kingdoms, nor while building the capital of
Memphis. No, one legend has it that the first ruler of a united
Egypt was killed in a hunting accident after a reign of 62 years,
unceremoniously trampled to death by a rampaging hippopotamus. News
of his demise brought a separate, special terror to his staff. For
many, the honor of serving the king in life would lead to the more
dubious distinction of serving the king in death.
On the day of Aha's burial a solemn procession made its way
through the sacred precincts of Abydos, royal necropolis of Egypt's
first kings. Led by priests in flowing white gowns, the funeral
retinue included the royal family, vizier, treasurer,
administrators, trade and tax officers, and Aha's successor, Djer.
Just beyond the town's gates the procession stopped at a monumental
structure with imposing brick walls surrounding an open plaza.
Inside the walls the priests waded through a cloud of incense to a
small chapel, where they performed cryptic rites to seal Aha's
immortality.
Outside, situated around the enclosure's walls, were six open
graves. In a final act of devotion, or coercion, six people were
poisoned and buried along with wine and food to take into the
afterlife. One was a child of just four or five, perhaps the king's
beloved son or daughter, who was expensively furnished with ivory
bracelets and tiny lapis beads.
The procession then walked westward into the setting sun,
crossing sand dunes and moving up a dry riverbed to a remote
cemetery at the base of a high desert plateau. Here Aha's
three-chambered tomb was stockpiled with provisions for a lavish
life in eternity. There were large cuts of ox meat, freshly killed
waterbirds, loaves of bread, cheese, dried figs, jars of beer, and
dozens of wine vessels, each bearing Aha's official seal. Beside
his tomb more than 30 graves were laid out in three neat rows. As
the ceremony climaxed, several lions were slain and placed in a
separate burial pit. As Aha's body was lowered into a brick-lined
burial chamber, a select group of loyal courtiers and servants also
took poison and joined their king in the next world.
Is this how a pharaoh's funeral in 2900 b.c. actually unfolded?
It's a plausible scenario, experts say. Archaeologists have been
sifting through the dry sands of Abydos for more than a century.
Now they have found compelling evidence that ancient Egyptians
indeed engaged in human sacrifice, shedding new—and not always
welcome—light on one of the ancient world's great
civilizations.
"Yellah! Yellah! Yellah!" barks Ibrahim Mohammed Ali, the
Egyptian crew boss, spurring his workers to move it, move it, move
it. "You are big fat water buffalo! You are dung!" The mostly
teenage boys hauling buckets of sand giggle nervously but pick up
the pace while keeping an eye on their still ranting foreman. "You
chatter worse than a bunch of women!" Standing tall in a loose,
flowing galabia and white head wrap, Ibrahim looks somehow
wizardly, maybe capable of vaporizing slackers with a cast from the
long, intimidating stick-wand he keeps clutched behind his back.
Ibrahim's 125-person crew is working with a team of archaeologists
to uncover part of the immense royal burial center at Abydos,
located 260 miles (420 kilometers) up the Nile from Cairo. As a
line of workers use hoe-like tureyas to scrape away the sand, the
so-named bucket boys haul away clanking pails of dirt and pour it
like water into the laps of sifters. Excavators are on the ground
with trowels in hand, surveyors are plotting the coordinates of
artifacts, a photographer is documenting each new find, and
illustrators are pencil-drawing an ancient coffin and an infant
skeleton.
Kneeling on one knee in the center of this swarm is Matthew
Adams, associate director of a multiyear project sponsored by the
University of Pennsylvania Museum, Yale University, and New York
University's Institute of Fine Arts. Adams is brushing sand away to
reveal a smooth, ancient mud floor. "If this is from the time of
Aha," he says in a raspy voice dried out from months in the desert,
"then it's the oldest funerary enclosure ever found in Egypt. We're
talking about the beginning of Egyptian history. Not one trowel has
been laid here before now."
Abydos is the source of many of Egypt's most ancient artifacts.
In 1988 Günter Dreyer, a German archaeologist, unearthed small bone
and ivory tags intricately inscribed with one of the world's
earliest forms of writing—crude hieroglyphs developed at about the
same time as Mesopotamian cuneiform. In 1991 Adams's mentor and the
project's director, David O'Connor, uncovered an eerie fleet of
wooden boats buried in enormous brick-lined graves.
Now O'Connor and Adams are digging down into the beginning of
Egypt's 1st dynasty, a pivotal period when kings laid down the
roots of religion, government, and architecture that would last for
the next 3,000 years. Unlike the colossal pyramids of later
pharaohs, the more modest burial complexes of the Abydos kings
consisted of two separate structures—a tomb and a ceremonial
enclosure. The large, walled enclosures where mortuary rituals were
performed were situated on the edge of town, while the underground
tombs were located more than a mile away on the threshold of the
desolate Western Desert, a place known to ancient Egyptians as the
land of the dead.
All of the 1st-dynasty tombs and most of the enclosures
excavated so far are accompanied by subsidiary graves—hundreds in
some cases—containing the remains of elite officials and courtiers.
Egyptologists have long speculated that these graves might hold
victims of sacrifice but also acknowledged that they could simply
be graves reserved for the king's staff, ready to use as each
person died naturally.
The question of whether ancient Egyptians practiced human
sacrifice has intrigued archaeologists since the late 1800s.
Frenchman Émile Amélineau and his English rival Sir Flinders Petrie
excavated all the 1st-dynasty desert tombs by 1902. Each had been
heavily looted in antiquity, and no royal remains were found except
a single bejeweled arm. Still, there was much yet to discover. In
Aha's tomb were the remains of dozens of wine vessels, tools, some
jewelry, and signs of food. Beside the tomb Petrie discovered 35
subsidiary graves, which he called the Great Cemetery of the
Domestics. While he didn't dwell on it in his published papers, he
hinted at human sacrifice. Later, in the 1980s, German
archaeologists uncovered the remains of at least seven young
lions.
The only funerary enclosure standing during Petrie's time was
the massive 4,600-year-old Shunet el-Zebib, built by the
2nd-dynasty king Khasekhemwy. The towering shuneh (storehouse),
with its three-story walls enclosing nearly two acres of space,
still dominates the landscape. Two of Petrie's associates
discovered another 2nd-dynasty enclosure, built by King Peribsen,
and Petrie returned in the 1920s and found hundreds of subsidiary
graves. The graves surrounded three 1st-dynasty enclosures, but
curi-ously, Petrie located only one of them. These discoveries led
archaeologists to speculate that they had found only half the
puzzle of Abydos, and that for each tomb they had uncovered out in
the desert, there should be a corresponding enclosure still hidden
on the city's edge.
In 1967 David O'Connor came to Abydos to search for, among other
things, the funerary enclosures that had eluded Petrie. Almost 20
years later, while digging in the shadow of the shuneh, he made a
totally unexpected discovery.
"I opened an excavation pit, and poking into one corner of it
was this intrusion," O'Connor recalls. "I knew it was something
from the earliest dynasty, I just didn't know what." To O'Connor's
amazement, the "intrusion" turned out to be one of 14 ancient
boats, each buried in its own brick-lined tomb adjacent to the
enclosure of a still unknown king. The boats, which measured up to
75 feet (23 meters) long, were expertly crafted and had been fully
functional when buried. They proved to be the world's oldest
surviving boats built of planks (as opposed to those made of reeds
or hollowed-out logs).
"The boats are like the servants who were buried at Abydos,"
says O'Connor. "The king intended to use t hem in the afterlife in
the same manner that he used them before his death." In life the
boats enabled the king to travel rapidly up and down the Nile in a
powerful display of wealth and military might. As the Egyptian
kings also expected to be kings in the afterlife, the boats would
be useful tools.
News of the boats'discovery rippled through the Egyptology world
and also energized O'Connor's hunt for the lost enclosures of the
first kings. To help focus the search, O'Connor and Adams sought
out Tomasz Herbich, a Polish archaeologist who specializes in
finding buried ruins with a device called a fluxgate gradiometer, a
type of magnetometer. It measures slight variations in the Earth's
magnetic field caused by certain types of iron oxides beneath the
surface. "These oxides are present in Nile mud," explains Herbich.
"And what's the main material used by ancient Egyptian builders?
Sun-dried bricks made of Nile mud!"
For nearly a week in 2001 Herbich's assistant walked more than
ten miles (16 kilometers) a day over a numbing grid, taking over
80,000 measurements. The survey turned up several small funerary
chapels but no enclosures. Then, during Herbich's last hour in the
field, his magnetic divining rod finally found royal mud. He
downloaded the data onto his laptop, and as the digital map came
into focus, he called out, "We have an enclosure!"
Adams and a small crew went to work uncovering part of the
enclosure, but the field season was ending, and they had to rebury
it and return home. In 2002 O'Connor again asked Adams to go to
Abydos, this time to undertake a massive excavation of the new
discovery.
After a month of tediously peeling back layers of sand, Adams
uncovered jars and wine stoppers bearing Aha's name, confirming
that his lost funerary enclosure was at last found.
Once the crew reached the enclosure's floor, they discovered six
surrounding graves. Three contained the bodies of adult women, one
held the remains of a man, and one held a young child with 25 ivory
bracelets embellished with tiny lapis beads. The sixth grave
remains unexcavated. In each case the archaeological evidence
pointed to a sacrificial death.
"The graves were dug and lined with bricks, then roofed with
wood and capped with mud-brick masonry," says Adams. "Above that
masonry cap, a plaster floor extends out from the enclosure and
covers all the graves." The floor extension is seamless-an
important clue, for it would have been impossible to entomb people
under the floor except all at the same time.
It's unlikely that 41 people-the six at Aha's enclosure plus 35
at his tomb-would have died of natural causes at the same time.
Another possibility is that they died randomly over time and were
then stockpiled and reburied en masse. But for O'Connor and Adams,
the evidence strongly suggests they were sacrificed.
How were they killed? Petrie believed that he saw signs of
post-burial movement in the tomb graves, suggesting that people
were alive or semiconscious when buried. Brenda Baker, a physical
anthropologist from Arizona State University, examined all the
skeletons from Aha's enclosure and found no signs of trauma. "The
method of their demise is still a mystery," says Adams. "My guess
is that they were drugged."
Or strangled, suggests Nancy Lovell, a physical anthropologist
at the University of Alberta. Lovell studied skulls from Aha's tomb
and found telltale stains inside the victims' teeth. "When someone
is strangled," she explains, "increased blood pressure can cause
blood cells inside the teeth to rupture and stain the dentin, the
part of the tooth just under the enamel."
It now seems clear that human sacrifice was practiced in early
Egypt-as was true in other parts of the ancient world. Sir Leonard
Woolley's excavation during the 1920s and '30s at Ur in modern-day
Iraq revealed hundreds of sacrificial graves dating back to 2500
b.c. and related to the burial of Mesopotamian kings and queens.
Evidence for sacrifice has also been seen in Nubian, Mesoamerican,
and several other ancient cultures.
In Egypt enthusiasm for the grim practice seems to have waned
quickly. Aha's subsidiary graves are the earliest to be found, and
his successor, Djer, embraced the practice with fervor-more than
300 graves flank his tomb, and another 269 surround his mortuary
enclosure. But Qaa, the last ruler of the 1st dynasty, had fewer
than 30 sacrificial graves beside his tomb, although his enclosure
remains lost. And by the 2nd dynasty the practice simply
stopped.
O'Connor thinks it ended because the royal staff rebelled.
"People tend to say that the Egyptians were becoming more civilized
and that's why it stopped, but I think that reflects our own
prejudices. These graves included relatively high-ranking people,
and the reason it stopped might be more political than ethical."
Perhaps it was an honor to serve the king in the afterlife, but it
was an honor that could wait.
By the 3rd dynasty Egypt's pharaohs began building their tombs
more than 250 miles (400 kilometers) downstream at Saqqara. There,
a new tradition arose: The separate tomb and enclosure were
combined into a single complex that included a colossal pyramid
tomb bounded by the walls of a ceremonial enclosure. The royal
necropolis at Abydos lay abandoned for the next 700 years.
Then during the Middle Kingdom the cult of Osiris became a major
force in Egyptian religion. Legend held that Osiris, lord of the
afterlife, was also Egypt's first king, and so pharaohs dispatched
priests to Abydos on a kind of archaeological expedition to locate
Osiris's tomb. They excavated several of the 1st-dynasty tombs and
ultimately decided that Djer's belonged to Osiris. In so doing they
turned Abydos into the mecca of ancient Egypt. Over the next 2,000
years several pharaohs, including Senusret III and Ramses II, built
great monuments and temples at Abydos to honor Osiris. Hundreds of
thousands of Egyptians, farmers and pharaohs alike, made the
pilgrimage to take part in an annual celebration of Osiris's
resurrection. The festival culminated in an elaborate parade that
wound from the town past a series of small chapels built to honor
the god-king, then up a dry riverbed to the ancient desert
cemetery.
Arriving at Osiris's tomb, the pilgrims had no inkling that
hundreds of their ancestors-royal staff members sacrificed more
than a thousand years earlier-lay buried beneath their feet.
Seeking Osiris's blessing for their own passage to the afterlife,
the worshippers brought millions of small clay offering pots filled
with fruit and smoldering incense. You can still see the potsherds
today, piled high like so many hopes that in the wake of death
comes eternal life.