Many view the advent of the Roman state mostly as an extension of the Ptolemaic state. J. Manning has noted that this is by far an incorrect approach (Manning 2003: 236ff.). We need to contrast the efforts of the Roman state from the earlier Ptolemaic state. The best way to begin this examination of the Roman dilemma is to quote the Biblical source from the trial of Christ where Pontius Pilate, a good Roman, inquires of the Pharisees about issues of loyalty. They loudly proclaimed: ‘‘We have no king but Caesar!’’ For the Egyptians of this period this could not be more true. They had no king, but they did have a distant Caesar who ruled their land.
Rome of the first century ad might be called a city of bread and circuses. Egypt was one of the principal means that allowed for that luxury. The foodstuffs grown in Egypt helped feed the populations of Rome. The hard stone quarries throughout the Nile Valley and Eastern Desert provided the quality stones to decorate the numerous public structures in Rome and later Constantinople, but that only superficially explains the use of Egypt by Rome itself. The Roman military Prefect assumed the overall role of governor of the new province. Utilizing many of the existing Greek speaking bureaucrats a relatively structured approach was taken to exact the needed revenues from the wealthy countryside (see ch. 10 above, and Ritner 1998).
For the average Egyptian, his/her existence changed little with the advent of Roman rule. Yes, there were some new organizational changes. There was the systematic head tax. There was the imposition of the leap year, i. e., calendrical reform. And the state increased work, at least temporarily, on infrastructure concerns. This lead to the cleaning of canals and repairs on major irrigation works. We also find during the first century an attempt at times for the emperor to spend small amounts on refurbishing traditional temple structures (Arnold 1999). For the Roman rulers these were simply the necessary tasks required for Egypt to produce resources on behalf of the emperor.
Initially the state retained support for the priesthood. This allowed a certain amount of status quo for their maintenance of political and social power within the system, but Rome had a problem. The Ptolemaic dynasty was the longest reigning dynasty in Egyptian’s three plus millennia of history. The influence of what they had done to Egypt was clear. It was now a Hellenized country. That does not mean that the native Egyptian culture disappeared. Rather it means that culturally the Romans placed less importance on the native culture and more on the maintenance of the Greek/Hellenized Graeco-Egyptian situation. Egyptians were in a sense segregated in their own country. Definitions of what it was to be a member of the priesthood became defined and limiting. Egyptians could not normally become citizens even through military service. Their principal duty was to produce revenue for the Roman state.
The dilemma of language reared its ugly head again. We have a sudden increase in two separate ways for Demotic texts. On the one hand numerous tax receipts in Demotic are found (until 50 ad when they mostly disappear), but of more significance is the sudden development of numerous Demotic texts of a religious nature, both cosmological treatises, as well as scientific texts (magical, medical, and astronomical texts). Does this mean there was a renaissance in Egyptian culture or are we looking at a last gasp attempt to assert cultural identity? The fact that Greek continued its headlong absorption of most written aspects of the culture argues for the latter rather than the former. We should note that the Egyptian language developing during this time period (expressed as the Coptic stage of the language) was written using Greek letters (with a few extra alphabetic signs developed to deal with sounds not found in Greek) (Dielmann 2005: 47ff.). However, the dominance of Greek written material does not equate to conquest (Fewster 2002; Hopkins 1991). Rather we see Egypt once again adjusting itself to a new reality. It is in the area of the religious sphere that this finds its clearest expression, especially since religion was Egyptian culture from a Western perspective. What appears to happen is a reliance again upon the local temple as the center of the Egyptian community. To understand this change we have to note that from earliest times Egyptian culture centered around the notion that the world was created locally. The local deity was the creator god, and one’s local temple was where creation took place. It was in the later periods that this was developed further with the clear documentation of numerous creation myths from around Egypt.
So what was the difference? In traditional Egyptian practice, we have a temple where the local deity was worshipped. This deity was set off from the people in a sacred temple from which the deity may venture forth on periodic occasions, notably local festivals. Essentially people did not go to the temple to worship as an integral part of personal religious piety (see Chs 14, 15). With the Roman Period it seems that this changes. We now get a greater reliance upon local temples as places of congregation. Yes, the ‘‘state’’-supported, larger stone temples still continued to hold their place of importance. However, we see more examples of local temples in mud brick surviving (the documentation for this is skewed towards the oases). These temples also act as centers for communities (Frankfurter 1998). The difference is that people could go inside these temples. They were built as centers with the idea that people could enter, and community activities (including communal worship) would take place immediately in front of the deity.
The dilemma for us is to determine, with the present state of the archaeological remains, whether this is a new situation in Egypt or whether there always was the dichotomy between larger state-supported and state-funded ‘‘big’’ stone edifices with large priesthood and the much more extensive and larger number of smaller, local, mud-brick edifices in local communities. Until we can uncover more of the smaller edifices from earlier times, we can never be certain. What we can say is that it was in the Roman Period when this phenomenon became clearly articulated. The local traditional Egyptian communities needed to rely more upon themselves when confronted with the hegemony of Roman rule. Essentially what Egypt did was to adopt the traditional Near Eastern format of integration of the temple into daily affairs. (I want to thank Wolfgang Muller for his comments on this approach.) Thus Egypt became more like other parts of the Near East in that the temple was more integrated into community life as a center for worship, not like previously, where the temple was a center for community life but mainly as an area for the remembrance of the creation point.
A complicating factor in the slow development of this community-based religious worship scheme was the introduction of Christianity into Egypt (see ch. 28). For the first century or so of Roman rule in Egypt we know little on the specifics of when, where, and how Christianity developed in Egypt. We hypothesize that, like much of the rest of the eastern Mediterranean, Christianity was an urban-based institution, and the earlier adherents to this radical sect were based primarily in the cities. What does become clear is that the dilemma of religious practice is complicated by the arrival of Christianity, and its development appears to be in parallel to the development of community-based, congregational worship in the local community temples. Thus the dilemma of Roman rule faces not a single unified group of cultural adherents, but a diverse range of adherents to a changing landscape in the area of religious proponents (complementing the diverse nature of the population of Egypt as a whole).
That the Caesars were facing similar dilemmas across the empire was only fitting and they did not initially need to deal with its expression in Egypt as a unique situation. We know, however, that what happened in Egypt was unique for a number of reasons. First is the way Christianity and the traditional cults faced each other. It would appear that peaceful co-existence was the norm for centuries. In a way the dilemma in Egypt was who was going to win the hearts and minds of the people. Some (including myself) have considered this time period as one where there was literally a cultural conflict with the winner taking the souls of all the inhabitants as the prize. I now think that it is much more complicated as Frankfurter has shown in his study of religion in Egypt during the Roman Period (Frankfurter 1998: chs. 4 and 5). There are two excellent examples of how this was played out in the archaeological record. The sites of Beleida (about 3 km west of Kharga) and Deir el-Medina (west bank at Luxor) share a common characteristic, and that is the nature of their temples. At the site of Beleida (unexcavated) we have a town site occupied from the first to the fifth centuries AD (on the basis of surface pottery finds examined by the local inspectorate and IFAO pottery specialists). The town has a temple area on the west side of the village, and it contains a parallel set of temples standing side by side. It is likely that the southern one (slightly smaller in size) was constructed after the northern one. At the site of Deir el-Medina, the stone temple dedicated to the goddess Hathor is well known, but equally important is the mud brick temple juxtaposed on the southern side. This mud-brick temple shares a wall with the Hathor temple, and holes for ceiling beams were chiselled into the stone structure.
How should we interpret these two structures? One scenario is to see two competing sects out to capture the souls of the locals with each claiming that the truth was to be found within. One could picture in that scenario priests from each sect out in front preaching side by side trying to get the populace into their structure.
Figure 26.1 Twin temples at the site of Beleida, Kharga Oasis. Photograph by the Egyptian Expedition, the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Courtesy the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Figure 26.2 The twin temples at Deir el-Medina. Courtesy E. Cruz-Uribe.
A second scenario would be to see two religious institutions established. The traditional Egyptian cults had precedence and were founded earlier. They were at the center of the town’s cultural establishment (literally and figuratively). Thus people congregated for all aspects of life in the village around the temple. Now we get a new religion, Christianity. It likewise preaches eternal life, resurrection of the dead in the hereafter, and a promotion of values for the common good. The appearance of the new cult’s temple is not to be seen as an attempt to gain prominence by claiming land next to the traditional temple and thus gaining some of its sacredness by physical association (a common viewpoint up until now). Rather, we need to see this as simply an expression of the common good. The Christians were stating that they also were part of the community and, as such, they needed to be placed in the center of the community (Ward-Perkins 2003). It was not a competition for souls but a simple statement that they were part of the community, and their place of worship was to be found along with that of the traditional cults. Thus, as Frankfurter has already shown, Christianity and the traditional sects in Egypt co-existed peacefully for many years. A change did not come until much later when we have the expansion of Christianity and the zealot groups (personified in Egypt by the likes of Apa Shenoute) in the third and fourth centuries. As Christianity became a dominant sect, traditional cults did not simply fade away quietly. We know that the Neo-Platonic movement spearheaded numerous attempts to maintain the traditional cults, but over time these lost out to the zealots. The triumph of Christianity was in reality an act related to power and in that manner reflected the dilemma of the Roman Empire: what to do with this upstart religion (Cruz-Uribe 2002).
One aspect of this dilemma which appeared with the expansion of Christianity is the expansion in the hermetic movement. We find large scale monasteries for both men and women appearing across the countryside of Egypt. As professions of their Christian faith these monastic adherents separated themselves in communal groups away from society in some cases. While these groups purged themselves of sin and prepared for the afterlife (as well as the second coming), they acted in a manner similar to that found with the associations prevalent during the Ptolemaic Period. Their movement reflected something about society that was problematic. Was the government not caring enough about its subjects? Were there difficulties in the economies that forced what apparently were average citizens to change their economic situation and better themselves? One could argue that the growth of monastic groups paralleled periods of the fiscal malaise within the empire, especially in the fourth century ad.
Another dilemma for the state was how they would handle support for religious practices. It became clear that, over time, state support for temples and their local priesthood was dramatically reduced. In addition, state expenses to build new large-scale stone edifices, or to repair existing structures, withered as other parts of the economy suffered. We find the development of liturgies as one stop-gap mechanism to bridge this short fall in state support. The liturgy was simply a forced public contribution. If your local community held a major festival each year for its local deity, a local member of the elite would be chosen by the state to perform a liturgical service, such as paying for the entire cost of a festival, or building a way station for the bark of the deity. Who benefited from such a system? Clearly the state gained as it was relieved of supporting a religious function paid for out of the public purse. The local community gained as local rituals or other celebrations were maintained, and thus public order was preserved. Did the local elite benefit? Of course, local prestige matters to local elites. Yes, they suffered a financial loss, but they acquired significant social benefits for themselves and their family. This does not mean the state did not directly interfere in a negative fashion vis-k-vis local religious practices. In 359 ad the emperor ordered an investigation into oracular proceedings from the oracle of Bes at the temple of Abydos. Oracle records were provided to the emperor detailing the replacement of the emperor by an adversary. That the oracle was willing to risk its existence to promote such an announcement indicated that there was either little support given for the cult, and little was to be lost by the action, or that the proclamation ofthe oracle reflected again a malaise within the countryside towards the state. The expression of such problems then would have been required of the oracle, despite potential negative consequences (Frankfurter 1998: 169ff.).
Earlier I noted that Egypt was one of Rome’s (and later Constantinople’s) sources of grain. The dilemma for Rome was to acquire additional land resources from which to extract revenue. They needed a new ‘‘Fayum’’ with all of its untapped wealth and available resources. They found it in the oases of the western desert. Areas in and around Kharga, Dakhla, Farafra, and Bahriya each experienced expansion of populations and recovery of desert lands for agriculture. How was this possible? Was there some new technology acquired? No, on the contrary it was simply an administrative decision accompanied by an influx in revenue for infrastructure. The main infrastructure expansion was the digging of wells in the desert depressions around the oases, tapping into the local existing ground-water supplies (Kaper, 1998). One might ask why was this not done earlier, and we can answer that it was. We saw during the Saite and Persian Period a similar expansion (albeit on a much smaller scale 600 years earlier). In that case qanats (underground aqueduct systems) were engaged. This was a decision by the state to expand the area’s agricultural means, but during the Ptolemaic Period this process was not continued. The reason lay with the focus of the state. For the Ptolemies attention was paid to the interactions with the rest of the Hellenic states in the eastern Mediterranean. There was little incentive to view the oases as an area of potential wealth, especially in light of other issues as noted above. For the Romans it was clear that Egypt was not going to be interacting militarily or politically with the other Hellenic areas. It was now a part of the Roman Empire, and, in that situation, economic resources and their extraction were prioritized (Cruz-Uribe, 2003).
The development of agricultural resources and expanding populations was a clear goal of the Roman state. It wanted to expand trade. It needed outposts to foster that. It found these in the oases. Sources suggest that items such as grain, wine, alum (for bleaching), and dates, were among the products produced for export to the valley. Moving foodstuffs like grain (versus dates which are more compact) across any distance overland is uneconomical. Therefore, what was the purposes of expanding agricultural areas in the desert? I believe it was a simple matter of Rome’s encouragement of trade. If there were sufficient desert outposts that could provide traders with water and foodstuffs, then trade with distant sources for exotic goods (always a need for the empire) would be encouraged, made practical, and would become benefidal. Since the cost to the state involved principally labor and could be paid with land allotments in the desert oases, then it was a low-risk venture for the state and it supported a strategic initiative (Bingen 1998).
Thus the Roman rulers addressed the dilemma of new lands in a manner similar to the Ptolemies, but locationally a bit more severe. When dealing with marginal lands, it is always a risk, but in this case it was a successful one. Estimates for population size suggest that they reached levels not seen again until modern times, and they maintained these levels of population up until at least the fifth century ad (Scheidel 2001). At that point it appears the water table dropped to such a level that it was no longer possible to extract easily large amounts of water. Areas were abandoned, and the desert began to reclaim its own. In addition, there were some political problems with Nubian groups, such as the Blemmyes, who raided Kharga Oasis.
Some scholars have suggested that Egyptian culture was strong enough to be able to withstand the cultural inroads of the numerous conquerors during the first millennium bc and through the Roman Period (Dielmann 2005: 285ff.). To support this it has been noted that the latest inscriptions and evidence of continuation of the traditional cultic practices continue all the way up into the sixth century ad (Cruz-Uribe 2002; Dijkstra 2004). It is also pointed out that many aspects of traditional Egyptian culture were adopted by, and infused within, Coptic Christian Egypt. Let us take the example of the ‘‘Fayum portraits.’’ These funerary masks were developed in Egypt, with many examples coming from the Fayum province (Riggs 2005: 95ff.). They replaced the traditional heads found on coffins and represent a bright light amongst the mostly dreary artistic features of the Roman Period. Painted on wood, they provide outstanding, idealized, yet lifelike, portraits of the deceased. The dilemma for Roman Egypt comes to the fore when we ask for whom were these portraits made? Were they made for local native elites or were they exclusively for Greek elites? Or were they manufactured for both? In all cases they represent the high point of Hellenistic artistic achievement in Egypt. If they were used by the Egyptian elite, then they illustrate how the Egyptians had become assimilated into the Hellenistic world. If they were used only by the Greek elites, then that would suggest that the Egyptians did not try to find social advancement. That scenario goes against the written documentation of numerous contacts and intermarriages among the elites in Egypt. If the Fayum portraits were used by the Egyptian elites, it would show how strongly they had been assimilated into the Hellenic world. I think the reality was somewhere in between, where we find the cultural conflict permeating all aspects of society. That Hellenization, through the Hellenized Christians, eventually dominated Egyptian society in many ways overshadows the numerous traditional practices that we do find in later times.
At the same time the Egyptian population during the Roman Period did adapt. In the face of the expansion of the liturgy system (see above), the Egyptians adapted earlier practices, such as flight from agricultural areas toward urban centers, joining of hermetic Christian groups and consanguineous (brother-sister) marriages. This last is a well known practice in the Graeco-Roman Period followed by certain portions of the society in order to prevent the fragmentation of family property. The Romans were mostly disturbed by the practice and specifically outlawed it for any Roman citizen residing in Egypt. That the Egyptians had to resort to a practice that was viewed with disdain by most of the Mediterranean world suggests that the culture was attempting anything to mark itself off from others (Hopkins 1980). If it was an act of resistance to Hellenism or to Roman economic practices, history showed that it was in the end a futile effort.
Another dilemma for the Egyptian population revolved around the fact that Egypt was not the center of activity, but rather a distant frontier (Bingen 1998). The Roman emperors saw Egypt as a personal estate dedicated to providing revenue. They had little care for local/national Egyptian sensitivities. Rather, the Romans were more concerned with political stability. Such places like Kharga Oasis were not the front line of the border, but rather a distant backwater where political and religious exiles were sent to get them out of public view.
One interesting practice that did expand during the Roman Period was the longdistance pilgrimage routes. We have evidence that Greeks, mostly from the poleis in Egypt, traveled to three main sites in Upper Egypt. The first site was the temple of Abydos with its temple dedicated to Osiris as well as the oracle to the god Bes. The second was to visit the statues known as the colossi of Memnon located in Thebes. While visiting those statues many of the visitors also took a side trip to the Valley of the Kings to visit the royal tombs, but known to the Greeks as the tombs of the Memnonia. The last stage was to visit the temple of Isis at Philai Island. In some ways these sites mirror parts of imperial travel holidays in Egypt as evidenced by Caesar and Kleopatra’s romantic travels up river (especially for the first two sites). A dilemma evolved in this pilgrimage practice as the sites themselves were ‘‘sacred’’ to multiple groups. Let us look at the temple of Isis at Philai. It was a traditional temple dedicated to the worship of the goddess Isis and lay near one of the traditional burial grounds of the god Osiris (on the nearby island of Bigga). As the temple developed in the Roman Period, it became the Roman administrative center, displacing the earlier areas in the town of Syene (Aswan) on the north side of the first cataract. It was also a destination site for pilgrims coming out of Nubia. The Meroitic kings had adopted Isis into their pantheon, and yearly visitation to the site became a central part of Meroitic court actions. It is certain that many of the disputes between the Romans and the Meroitic kingdom centered around access to and control of the area around Philai island.
Thus we have Greeks, Egyptianized Greeks, local Egyptians, perhaps Egyptians from other parts of Egypt, Egypto-Nubians, and Nubians all converging on the island of Philai (Vassilika 1989; Bowman 2000; Cruz-Uribe 2002, and n. d.). The issue was further complicated with the development of Christianity as the temple became a symbol of ‘‘pagan’’ practices. The Romans struggled to mediate and oversee the area while maintaining their international commitments (treaties with the Meroitic kingdom), economic commitments (trade routes through Syene), religious commitments (traditional temple priesthood versus Christian zealots), and security commitments (large numbers of Nubians living in Egypt especially around Syene). All of these competing areas were then complicated by the pilgrimage ‘‘trade’’ where you often have elite members of society visiting for a variety of differing reasons. When the Christians decided to build a Christian church on Philai island, the Roman rulers faced a serious dilemma. On the one hand, after 378 ad all traditional temples were ordered closed by Theodosius. Philai temple was exempted by treaty with the Nubians. The Christians dedicated their church to St. Stephen and it also became a pilgrimage site. The ‘‘sacred’’ space of Philai became a challenge especially as each group involved had a legitimate interest in maintaining a status quo.
World History
