Early Dynastic Mesopotamia was divided into a series of relatively small states (with a radius of ca. 30 km), characterised by a virtually equal status and potential for expansion. This regional reorganisation started in the Jemdet Nasr and Early Dynastic I phases in response to the previous pre-eminence of Uruk. Each city had its local ruler, whose title varied from city to city: Uruk was ruled by an en, a ‘(high) priest’; Lagash by an ensi, an ‘estate manager (for the god)’; while Ur and Kish by a lugal, a ‘king’. The three terms were not synonymous, each having its own ideological and political implications. The en title was clearly meant to underline the continuity and origin of the ruler’s authority in the temple, where it found its initial application. The ensi title showed the dependence of the ruler to the authority of the god, due to the former’s role as delegate of the god. The title of lugal (literally, ‘great man’) emphasised the human qualities of the ruler (both physically and socio-economically), and mirrored the term for ‘palace’, e-gal (meaning ‘large house’). While the first two titles are attested in the Uruk and Jemdet Nasr periods, the third one only emerged in the Early Dynastic period. Politically, being an ensi also implied relations of dependence on a human level. As a result, more powerful kings, who had a hegemonic and military agenda, would use the title of lugal.
With the rise of independent states, problems arose not only on an economic and military level, resulting in conflicts over borders and occasional attempts towards supremacy, but also on a juridical and ideological level. The multitude of deities, which were recognised by the population as a whole, led to the consideration of the presence of a multitude of political centres, roughly one per city (that is, one per god), as legitimate. On an urban level, the local city-god was naturally considered more powerful than those in other cities. This belief led to the rise of local theologies and theogonies (for instance, those at Eridu were different from the ones at Nippur). These ideological differences led to political differences, since states were not strictly seen as equal, but were ranked according to the sets of values of each city.
The multitude of coexisting states was mirrored by the internal developments taking place in each city. Several dynasties followed each other in a sequence of rises and falls that had to be justified theologically. The core unit of power was the bala, a ‘rotation (of office)’ (namely, a ‘dynasty’), linked to the respective deity, who would grant or remove his or her support according to the rulers’ behaviour. However, just like polytheistic systems featured the supremacy of one god, so kingship developed along a similar line in each city, dynasty after dynasty. Hegemonic strategies therefore originated from, and were legitimised by, the local religious ideology. In this way, the most powerful kings of the period managed to settle controversies in other cities and take over titles, an act that expressed their ability to control cities other than their own.
On a historical level, we know of at least two groups of Sumerian cities, whose function (political or economic) and history remains unclear. The first attempt took place in the Early Dynastic I, and is attested mainly at Ur, through seals called ‘City Seals’. These seals depicted the symbols of a variety of cities (Ur, Larsa, Adab, Kesh, the Eanna of Uruk, Lagash and maybe Eridu), some of which have not yet been identified. The cities involved held on to their autonomy and their union could have been for reasons still unknown to us (possibly commercial or even cultic). Far better attested is the second attempt, called the ‘Kengir League’ (Kengir being the Sumerian term for Sumer) or ‘Hexapolis’. It was recorded in a series of texts from Shuruppak (Fara) from the Early Dynastic Illa period. According to these sources, Shuruppak, Uruk, Adab, Nippur, Lagash, and Umma sent a substantial number of soldiers to Kengir. The most obvious hypothesis is that these cities were allies, possibly against a northern enemy (maybe Kish). The so-called ‘Fara Age’ (corresponding to the Early Dynastic Illa) is documented in administrative texts from Fara itself (another name for Shuruppak), located halfway between Uruk and Nippur, and Abu Salabih (north-west of Nippur) in the north.
Nippur held a particularly unique position in the region, due to its mediatory and unifying role. The city never became the seat of a ruling dynasty, but as the main city of the god Enlil, the supreme deity of the Sumerians, it held a central role in the region. Many kings provided votive offerings to the sanctuary of Enlil (the Ekur) and attempted to legitimise their power through the support of Enlil. As Nippur theology spread across Sumer, so Enlil became the ultimate judge of the distribution of power among cities, and began to take on the essential role of mediator among the cities.
Through an internal legitimation of power (public consensus and control of the local priesthood), as well as an external one (through the approval of Nippur, and the establishment of a network of relations with other cities), the rulers of the Sumerian city-states became the administrators of an urban settlement conceived as one large estate. Ideologically, the owner of this ‘estate’ and its people was the god, while the king was his delegate. However, the king remained the actual leader, as long as he could respect those social and religious conventions necessary to gain the approval of the population. The fundamental duties of the king were the regular management of economic activities, as well as the occasional defence against enemy attacks. His responsibilities were split on two levels, one human and one divine. The king had to implement important decisions and supervise the production and redistribution of commodities. However, successful harvests were attributed to the positive influence of the divine sphere (since harvests depended on natural phenomena). The same can be said about war: the king was responsible for leading military activities, but the conflict’s outcome would ultimately be determined by the will of the god (or, better, the conflict of interests between different gods).
However, the god’s behaviour was a reflection of human behaviour, since the former’s righteousness and justice could not be doubted. If a king, conceptualised as the human representative of the community in front of the divine, committed a violation, the god would have harmed the harvests and would have ceased to protect the city. This link between the king’s behaviour and the reaction of the divine led to the third fundamental aspect of kingship, namely, its cultic role. Alongside the management of his land, the king had to ensure positive relations with the divine, thus avoiding the occurrence of natural disasters outside his control. This beneficial relation with the divine only took place when the right individual was heading the community, and through the daily care of this difficult interaction.
The problem of legitimacy was entirely ideological, since one’s right to rule was directly linked to one’s ability to do so. However, apart from the obvious legitimacy of a ruler inheriting his office from his predecessor, there was a specific need for usurpers or new kings to justify their rule. The solution was to legitimise their rule stating that, if the god had chosen them among all other possible candidates, it was because of their unique qualities, necessary to become good rulers. Even on a daily basis, the king held a central role in cultic activities. Priestly officials managed daily rituals, monthly and yearly festivals (as with most agricultural communities, the new year was a crucial moment) and offerings. However, in this ceremonial repertoire the king held the role of the legitimate intermediary between the community and the city-god.
This inextricable link existing between the administration of cities and its religious justification was a way to overcome visible inequalities. In fact, these would have been impossible to maintain without a strong ideological backing. The Mesopotamian farmer was pressured by uncontrollable natural phenomena harming his fields (from floods to drought, pestilences and locusts) on the one hand, and heavy taxation on the other. He therefore had to be sure that the administration was able to keep the system under control (both efficiently and justly) in view of the common interest, represented by the city-god. While the temple did not require an ideology justifying its existence, the king, whose role could have been performed (or at least coveted) by many other candidates, clearly had to express his qualities, emphasising his strength, justice and ability to rule.
The earliest royal inscriptions were found on temple offerings (stone or metal vases, weapons, statues depicting rulers), or buried under the foundations of buildings founded by kings (temples, canals and so on). They were aimed precisely at advertising the productivity and power of the king, as well as his close dependence on the city-god. These objects, however, due to their small size and their location (buried under a building’s foundations), could not have been intended to spread this propagandistic message to the population, but rather for imaginary recipients (the gods and the following rulers). However, the sheer existence and formulation of these inscriptions responded to a concrete royal need, which must have been pursued through other means to reach the population. This period saw the rapid rise of celebrative monuments (victory steles and royal statues). Therefore, their monumentality, location (in the temple), and representations could have been means for propaganda, communicated alongside the implicit message of power delivered by their construction.
Therefore, the performance of rituals and the construction of monuments kick-started the development of the celebratory aspects of kingship. These would further flourish later on, but already had a considerable impact in this period. For instance, the burial of considerable wealth and a large number of individuals in the Royal Cemetery of Ur was the result of the community’s acceptance of the role of the king as the legitimate and necessary intermediary between the community itself and that supernatural sphere deciding its fate and survival.