Which Kingdom Is It?

Upon reaching the town of Esna, we go through locks. Having been raised in Montreal right near the St-Lawrence Seaway, I’m familiar with the yo-yoing process involved. The boat enters the lock, the doors close, the water level goes up or down depending on the direction of sailing, and with any luck, the boat follows. 

In this case, since we’re headed south to Upper Egypt, the water level is raised, and the boat, passengers, crew, and towel sculptures all come along. Upper Egypt is southern Egypt, and Lower Egypt is northern Egypt although, looking at a map, you’d think it’s the reverse. The reason is that the Nile flows northward.

The Nile, the longest river in the world, actually starts off as two separate rivers, the White Nile and the Blue Nile, originating from Rwanda and Ethiopia, respectively. These two waterways meet, exchange pleasantries, and join forces near the city of Khartoum, the capital of Sudan. From there, the Nile continues its swift northward course, flowing through the sands of Egypt, bringing life-giving water and fertile soil to city after desert city. After passing through Cairo, it gets tired—who wouldn’t, after covering over six thousand kilometres—and branches off into several smaller rivers, resembling the limbs of a tree and becoming what is known as the Nile Delta. Then, this whole mess of small streams and rivers empties itself into the Mediterranean for the benefit of fish, algae, and Papa Smurf impersonators.

So, we’re going down south, up the river; Upper Egypt, ready or not, here I come. 

In ancient times, there was no official Middle Egypt for, I suppose, there was not much there other than desert and river; the population tended to congregate either in the North or the South. Wars and struggles for power over the millennia were typically between Upper and Lower Egypt, notwithstanding invasions by the Hittites, the Macedonians, or the Romans. That’s why the pharaoh was hailed as the King of Upper and Lower Egypt, signifying a unified country. 

Now, Middle Egypt is, well, everything in the middle. Like the Middle East. But wait. What is the Middle East in the middle of? Eastern East and Western East? Enquiring minds are back in action, so much so, that I decide to brush up on the ancient history of Egypt and get my kingdoms straightened out.

With such a long history, scholars have divided it into periods and kingdoms which can be a tad confusing when trying to figure out who lived when, who did what when, and who wanted to kill who when. So, here’s my really really really condensed version of a really really really long history.

Around 5500 B.C., the hunters and gatherers, a nomadic gang who went around hunting and gathering food all around the Nile valley, finally decide where they want to stay, and a bunch of them settle in Lower Egypt, and a bunch in Upper Egypt. Fast forward to 3400 B.C., the bunches have grown and become communities, each with their own king. A century or two later, someone starts doodling, giving rise to the development of hieroglyphs. 

Then, in 3100 B.C., King Narmer of Upper Egypt decides to unify the two bunches, thus ending the Predynastic Period and starting the Early Dynastic Period with the first king of the First Dynasty listed as Menes. It’s debated as to whether Narmer and Menes were two different dudes, or one and the same. I don’t know about you, but Menes sounds Greek to me. I’m thinking, same guy, different name, a ploy we’ve seen before. Regardless, the dynastic age has begun. 

The Old Kingdom comes into being with the introduction of the Third Dynasty in 2686 B.C., and spans about five hundred years and four dynasties. I hear your question, “What’s a dynasty?” Well, it’s a group of kings that can sometimes be linked by lineage or by where the country’s capital is situated, as it tended to move from place to place depending on who was running the show. Weird, isn’t it?  I guess this is what you’d call a portable capital! In ancient Egypt, many cities claimed this honour. Memphis (present day Cairo), Thebes (Luxor), Akhetaten (Tell El Amarna, somewhere between Thebes and Memphis), and Alexandria, to name just a few, have all been capital cities at one time or another. 

Anyway, let’s get back to our kingdoms. For the first part of the Old Kingdom—the pyramid age—the country prospers and evolves culturally and technologically. Unfortunately, starting in the Fifth Dynasty, the good times stop rolling. The power of the regional governors increases and that of the king decreases, resulting in civil unrest, and undoubtedly, uncivilized behaviour. During the Sixth Dynasty, droughts and famines join the uncivilized behaviour and the country enters one big period of instability: The First Intermediate Period.

Now we start a hundred years of mucky muck. People from outside Egypt are trying to invade, people inside Egypt are fighting amongst themselves, and the country uses up more kings than ants at a picnic. They go through four dynasties’ worth of kings in just over a century. Mind you, at times, there are kings in Upper Egypt ruling at the same time as kings in Lower Egypt—like two people talking at the same time—and so, at that rate, it’s not surprising that they speed through to the end of the Tenth Dynasty before they clean up their act. 

The Pharaoh Montuhotep, founder of Dynasty XI, is credited with reuniting the country and ushering in the Middle Kingdom in 2055 B.C. With the pharaoh’s butt firmly glued to the throne, Egypt regains peace and stability. Since everyone has calmed down somewhat, they now have time to devote to art, literature, and architecture. Everything is flourishing and so does Egypt by expanding its borders with the annexation of Nubia. All in all, the good times have come back and stay until the end of Dynasty XIV in 1650 B.C.

Did you pick up on the clue when I mentioned the First Intermediate Period? Uh-huh. When there’s a first, there’s a second, and here it is: The Second Intermediate Period. And it lasts a hundred years. So what happens here? The Hyksos happen, that’s what. These guys, an Asiatic group, come to settle in Lower Egypt in the last part of the Middle Kingdom. Being sneaky, they install themselves in positions of power, and with the aid of horses and chariots—the Egyptians didn’t have them before this—and superior weapons, they gain power and take over the throne of Egypt. 

The Hyksos launch Dynasty XV which lasts pretty much the whole hundred years. At the same time in Upper Egypt, native Egyptian kings try to maintain power in their own right and start their own dynasty, the Sixteenth. While the Hyksos do their thing in the North, the Egyptian kings do theirs in the South. When Dynasty XVII rolls around in Upper Egypt, the Egyptian kings become more rebellious and aren’t going to take any crap from “outsiders” any longer. Eventually, they kick the Hyksos out on their behinds in 1550 B.C., spawning the beginning of the New Kingdom.

The golden age of Egypt has arrived. The very first thing the Egyptians do is reinforce their borders and spruce up the army; they want no more of this invading nonsense. For the next five hundred years, during Dynasties XVIII to XX, Egypt goes through the last great period of its entire history. The country is stable, and art, literature, architecture, building, and trade are thriving once again. The great of the greats are among the pharaohs of this era. Hatshepsut, Tuthmoses III and IV, Amenhotep III, Akhenaten, Tutankhamun, Ramses II and III; they’re all New Kingdomers. 

There are still battles to be fought though. Ramses II initiates several military campaigns aimed at the Hittites, a people of rather obscure origins, which culminate in the famous Battle of Qadesh. The battle is a stalemate even though both sides claim victory, and before long, a peace treaty is signed between the two factions. 

Egypt continues to do well until the Twentieth Dynasty, by which time, the pharaoh’s authority starts to decline again. The high priests gain more power as do foreign entities such as the Libyans and the “Sea Peoples”, a bunch of guys most likely hailing from the eastern Mediterranean, Aegean, and Asia Minor regions. 

We all know what’s coming, don’t we? The proverbial hieroglyphs are on the wall (tee hee, I always wanted to say that). In 1069 B.C., with Egypt fragmented and in tatters, we enter (all together now!) the Third Intermediate Period. By now, the pharaoh is hanging on to the throne by his fingernails in the North, and the priests and generals are huddled in the South, with power over the country split between North and South. Each side does its own thing. They don’t fight like two-year olds over a toy, they just seem to co-exist. This lasts throughout the Twenty-first Dynasty. 

The first king of Dynasty XXII reunites the country, but peace only lasts for a short while. Unity is shattered once again, and as a result, the Twenty-third Dynasty is created in the Delta region, even before the guys of the Twenty-second’s are done with their turn on the throne. Both dynasties are running concurrently like marathoners headed for the finish line. Then, boom, out of nowhere, Dynasty XXIV springs into action. Everyone wants to rule the world; the country is sprouting dynasties faster than the spread of dandelions on my front lawn. This is all for naught. By 747 B.C., the Nubian kings—they had separated from Egypt at the end of the Twentieth Dynasty—have grown powerful enough in their own right. They overthrow the divided Egypt with its dysfunctional rulers, put their foot down, and establish the Twenty-fifth Dynasty.

We are now in the Late Period and Egypt is in for more ups and downs. Everyone wants a kick at the can. The Assyrians take over for a while, then it’s the turn of the Persians, and finally, it’s back in the hands of native Egyptians. At the very end of this period, with the bases loaded and two outs, the Persians make a comeback, but only for a brief time.

We’ve now exhausted Dynasties XXV to XXX. We’re in 332 B.C., and if you’ve read the beginning bits of the book, you know what happens now. Enter the King of Macedonia in northern Greece: Alexander the Great. Trumpets. Fanfare. Tra la la. He conquers, he rules, he dies, the Ptolemies take over, and the whole thing ends with Cleopatra and a stupid snake. Egypt now belongs to Rome. And that’s that.  

 After running through five thousand years in a half-hour, I need a diversion. I look out the window and watch the landscape go by. It changes frequently from dense foliage and date palms, to small villages with mud brick buildings and cultivated fields with grazing cattle. I even see a scarecrow wearing a long blue robe and a turban. The only way I can tell it’s a scarecrow, and not a live person, is by the three birds perched contentedly upon it, clearly in love with their humanoid perch. Unquestionably slacking on the job, this wooden worker needs a performance review at the first opportunity.

We arrive in Edfu. The planned excursion today is to the aptly named Edfu Temple, a site that is not wheelchair or crutch friendly, so I stay on the boat. Yasmin takes my camera and promises to take as many pictures as my battery will allow and recount every detail of the visit when they return. 

The group departs, and as soon as their backs are turned, I grab my book and head to the sundeck. Although I’m very sorry to miss the temple visit, I have an important appointment to keep, one which has been a long time coming. 

Last night, I ceremoniously took my last antibiotic tablet, and with it, the nasty microbes have been vanquished. Now on the sundeck, I select a comfy lounge chair, put my feet up—I’m not aiming for the leg-above-my-head position, not with people around—and order my very first refreshing gin and tonic from the circulating waiter. 

Within minutes, my gentle waiter comes back, carrying a tray with three glasses balanced on it. Oh no, surely the Egyptian Food Principle does not extend to alcoholic beverages!

I blow a sigh of relief as the waiter deposits the one drink on my side table and carries the other two over to a nearby couple. Phew! I can handle one gin and tonic, but three would have sent me rolling along the deck, bounding into guardrails like a crazy ball bearing on a tilting maze puzzle.

I take a sip. Heavenly! I relax. I read my book. As expected, a cocktail is excellent for unwinding and enjoying an afternoon in the sun. And bad for gluing mummy wrappings. Read on, esteemed reader, read on.