Violence among the Gods

The recourse to violence, attested to in many aspects of life in ancient Egypt, is rooted in a mindset as old as the state itself. The world of the supernatural provides archetypal violence, prefiguring the actions of the Egyptian com­munity and administration in the twilight zone of mimesis.

Egypt and north-east Africa show, as other ancient cultures do not, in their geography and ecology, a classic tension inviting interpretation in terms of combat. On a yearly basis in the flood plain of the Nile and the desert through which it cuts, the wilderness does battle with the sown: the forces of chaos and anti-life contend with fertility and life. The contest can never be won by either side, but that ambivalence opens the door for a productive interpreta­tion in the form of myth.^[711] The falcon, with ‘variegated plumage', the ‘lord of the sky', hovers over the alluvium, enlivening and defending it; while just beyond the flood plain and delta lurks the grotesque Seth-animal, ruddy wild pig(?), champion of chaos, disorder and death.^[712] As the river reaches its lowest point, the desert seems to encroach upon the fertile land; but as the waters rise weeks later the forces of fertility throw back the invader. Horus and Seth are locked in never-ending combat. Seth is instrumental in the untimely passing of Horus (qua the king), striking him down and hurling his body into the Nile. There the effluxes of his flesh mingle with the waters, imbuing them with fertility. It is this myth that informs the ideology of the new and unprecedented phenomenon of monarchy. The king not only is the falcon, but ineffably he also embodies Seth, the two hostile gods being seen in the person of the monarch in equilibrium.

Throughout the coastal communities of the Levant, from Asia Minor to the Nile Delta, a common myth motif fastens upon the story of monster-sea and the hero-god.^[713] The former constantly attempts to invade the land and seize the goddess; but his attempts are always thwarted by the hero. Ba'al (the ‘lord') takes on Yam (the ‘sea'), and the goddess (Anat or Astarte) becomes the prize. The plot is certainly known in the origins discourse of north-east Africa; but here more attention is paid to the hero as a defenceless baby, forced to flee with his mother to the north where he is protected by the divine denizens of the inner marshes. Grown to manhood, he emerges with his young followers from the swamps, confronts Seth and subdues him, taking his rightful place as heir to his murdered father.

The Horus-Seth myth is not only basic to the understanding of the pharaonic monarchy; it also insinuates itself into the discourse whenever Egypt's role in the cosmos is under discussion.^[714] In the great work, currently dubbed the ‘Triumph of Horus',^[715] Seth and his minions have been reduced to the very embodiment of evil, to be worsted and pushed out of Egypt north­wards, into Asia where all badness is at home. There they become one with the ‘Asiatics', peoples who are up to no good at all times and deserve to be trounced whenever they attempt once more to invade the sacred soil of Egypt. The plot pattern lends itself to the rationalisation of several cardinal events in Egyptian history, including the Exodos.^{[716] [717]}

But the violence characterising the behaviour of Seth sometimes works for good: ‘As for me, I am Seth, the one with great strength among the Ennead (the assembly of gods). I am in the habit of slaying the enemy of the sun on a daily basis at the prow of the barque of millions (the sun-boat) - no other god is able to do it!'6° The enemy alluded to is the monster serpent Apophis, lurking in the celestial Nile, in wait for the sun.

The classic example of heavenly violence perpetrated by the gods is known far and wide in the ancient world in the form of a flood story. God tires of his creation for a variety of reasons, and determines to wipe it out. Of course, in Egypt floods are beneficial to society, and no such plot motif would make any sense. There is, however, a story of the destruction of humankind, brought on by conspiracy against the sun-god. Again, refusal to toe the line is construed as rebellion. Becoming privy to the plot, Re decides to annihilate his creation. He summons ‘Eye', that is the fiery, solar heat personified in the form of a lioness, and sends her down to earth to slay all humanity. The slaughter, however, proves too efficient, and a repentant Re has to stop it. He does so by tricking the lioness into imbibing a particularly potent beverage which renders her drunk and unable to continue her marauding.^[719] In spite of the picaresque nature of the treatment, the story is of great antiquity.