Descendants of a Lesser God: Regional Power in Old and Middle Kingdom Egypt

By Alejandro Jiménez-Serrano

A fresh historiographical perspective on the dynastic dynamics of the governing families associated with Elephantine, from the end of the Old Kingdom to the end of the Middle Kingdom

The First Upper Egyptian nome, with its capital, Elephantine, was important in ancient times, as it stood on the southern border between Egypt and the Nubian provinces above the First Cataract. Since 2008, Alejandro Jiménez-Serrano has led an archaeological mission at the necropolis of Qubbet el-Hawa, where Elephantine’s high officials are buried. In Descendants of a Lesser God, he draws on textual records and archaeological data, together with new evidence from his work at the tombs, to cast fresh historiographical light on the dynastic dynamics of these ruling elites.

Jiménez-Serrano analyzes the origin of the local elites of Elephantine, and their role in trade and international relations with Nubia and neighboring regions, from the end of the Old Kingdom to the end of the Middle Kingdom. He explores the development of these power groups, organized as they were in complex households, which in many ways emulated the functioning of the royal court. Delving deeply into the funerary world, he also the relationship between social memory and political legitimacy through his examination of the mortuary cult of a late Old Kingdom governor of Elephantine, Heqaib, who was transformed into a local divinity and later claimed as the mythic ancestor of the ruling family of Elephantine.

The history of ancient Egypt has traditionally been written from a court perspective. This new history of a strategically important region not only modifies existing perceptions of provincial life in the Middle Kingdom among the elites but also introduces new evidence to support more complex reconstructions of the dynastic families in power.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The American University in Cairo Press
• Release date: Oct 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781649033130

Alejandro Jiménez-Serrano

Alejandro Jiménez-Serrano is professor of Egyptology and Near Eastern Archaeology at the University of Jaen, Spain. Since 2008, he has been the director of archaeological excavations and interdisciplinary research at Qubbet el-Hawa in Aswan. He is co-editor of Middle Kingdom Palace Culture and Its Echoes in the Provinces (2021) and Results of the 2019 Research Season at Qubbet el-Hawa. He is a frequent participant in television documentaries on ancient Egypt.

Book preview

DESCENDANTS OF ALESSER GOD

This electronic edition published in 2023 by

The American University in Cairo Press

113 Sharia Kasr el Aini, Cairo, Egypt

420 Lexington Avenue, Suite 1644, New York, NY 10170

www.aucpress.com

Copyright © 2023 by Alejandro Jiménez-Serrano

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Hardback ISBN 978 1 649 03175 4

WebPDF ISBN 978 1 649 03312 3

eISBN 978 1 649 03313 0

Version 1

In a world in which law had little relevance to the regulation of human relations, legitimacy and authority derived ultimately from gods, so direct access to those gods and acting as intermediaries between the divine and the human sphere were essential political arenas.

J. C. Moreno-García 2020. The State in Ancient Egypt

(London: Bloomsbury Academic)

See with your own eyes what I have done for you; may a god act for the one who acted for him, spending my years upon earth and justifying my voice in the necropolis.

Sarenput I’s words to Heqaib. From Heqaib’s ka-chapel in his sanctuary on Elephantine.

To my daughters, Sara and Nora. My biggest discoveries.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

List of Illustrations

Introduction

Genealogy of the Governors of Elephantine

Chronological Table

1.Gateway to the South

2.Ruling the Cataract

3.From Governor to God

4.Power Ran Through Their Veins

5.Sons of a God

6.Royal Artists Working in Qubbet el-Hawa

7.From Dynastic Crisis to Peak of Power

8.New Blood

Epilogue

Notes

Bibliography

Index

Index of Egyptian words

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Iwould like to express my gratitude to those who have contributed in any way to this work, or who have participated directly or indirectly in the success of the Universidad de Jaén Archaeological Project at Qubbet el-Hawa.

First of all, I wish to thank all the members of the Qubbet el-Hawa Project for sharing their passion for Egyptology and Egyptian archaeology, or simply their love of Egypt. There are more than a hundred people who have participated in this project; therefore I will just highlight some of these amazing people. First of all, my thanks go to Juan Luis Martínez de Dios, Juan Manuel Anguita, and Fernando Martínez-Hermoso, who, beginning in 2006, have followed me on this crazy adventure; and Jose M. Alba, whose tireless work and commitment are a constant inspiration. I would also like to thank the many colleagues who became my friends and represent the core of the project: Inmaculada Alemán, Vicente Barba, Martina Bardonova, Miguel Botella, Gersande Gigi Eschenbrenner-Diemer, Luisa García-González, Ana Belén Leny Jiménez-Iglesias, Lola Joyanes, Cristina Lechuga, María José López-Grande, Teresa López-Obregón, Juan Antonio Martínez-Hermoso, Patricia Mora, Antonio Mozas, José Luis Pérez, Oliva Rodríguez-Ariza, Ángel Rubio, Sara Tapia, Yolanda de la Torre, and Eduardo Trigo.

Secondly, I am immensely grateful to the Supreme Council of Antiquities (SCA), today part of the Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities—especially Dr. Mohamed el-Bialy, who supported me during the first (and most important) years of the project. My thanks go to Mr. Fathy Abu Zeid, Mr. Abdelhakim Karar, Dr. Nasser Salama, and Dr. Abdelmonen Said, local directors of the SCA, whose patience and cooperation helped many of the discoveries described here come to light. The work of the local chiefs was always supported by their inspectors, who worked with us directly or indirectly. Again, the number who supervised our work or worked with us as restorers is innumerable. Among them I would like to mention Hany Salah, Osama Amer, Ahmed Awad, and Osama Abdel Atif.

To my Egyptological colleagues, I wish to thank Antonio J. Morales, Cornelius and Beatrice von Pilgrim, Irene Forstner-Müller, Wolfgang Müller, Miroslav Mirek Barta, Marleen de Meyer, Jaromir Krejci, Mohamed Megahed, Nadine Moeller, Nigel and Helen Strudwick, Patrizia Piacentini, José Miguel Serrano-Delgado, José M. Galán, and Miguel Ángel Molinero-Polo. Our conversations and the knowledge you have shared have been inspiring.

Most of the figures, maps, and plans illustrating this work were designed by Juan Luis Martínez de Dios, Juan Antonio Martínez-Hermoso, Antonio Mozas-Calvache, and Ana Belén Jiménez-Iglesias; I am immensely grateful for their help and collaboration. I also extend my gratitude to Patricia Mora for the many photographs she has contributed to this book.

Special thanks go to our sponsors, whose love for ancient heritage, and specifically for Egyptian archaeology, provided us with the necessary funds to begin and continue our work: the Spanish Association of Egyptology, Jesús Calderón from the Group Calderón, Palarq Foundation, Gaselec Foundation, and Group GGM. We are also very grateful to the public institutions that helped or supported our project: the University of Jaén, the Spanish Ministry of Culture, and the Spanish Ministry of Science and Research.

I also wish to thank to Sarah Griffiths for editing the manuscript and improving my written English.

Finally, to my family, especially to my daughters Sara and Nora—I thank you for your generosity and love. For more than a decade, your support has given me the strength to carry out this important fieldwork.

ILLUSTRATIONS

Figures

Figure 1. The oldest image of the First Cataract region, Aswan, Elephantine, and Qubbet el-Hawa.

Figure 2. Different antiquities sold by British soldiers in Qubbet el-Hawa.

Figure 3. The discovery of Harkhuf’s façade.

Figure 4. Ni-ankh-Min’s relief found in the Old Kingdom cemetery at Elephantine.

Figure 5. Sketch of Merenre’s inscription in the area of the Cataract.

Figure 6. Panoramic view of Qubbet el-Hawa.

Figure 7. Plan of the early First Intermediate Period ka-chapel in Elephantine and the remains of a wooden panel situated next to it.

Figure 8. Comparison of the reliefs from (a) Heqaib II (QH35d) and (b) Sabni II (QH35e).

Figure 9. Scene of Sabni I hunting and fowling in the marshes, from his funerary chapel (QH26).

Figure 10. Southern soldiers in the tomb of Setka (QH110).

Figure 11. Lintel of the main door of Heqaib’s sanctuary at Elephantine with the inscriptions of Intef III and Amenemhat III’s reign (?).

Figure 12. Sattjeni’s stela from QH35p.

Figure 13. Wooden cosmetic box found in the burial of Sattjeni (QH35p).

Figure 14. Sarenput I (left) and Heqaib’s ka-chapels in Elephantine.

Figure 15. Sarenput I’s stelae in the Sanctuary of Heqaib.

Figure 16. Fragment of an inlay coffin, originally from QH36.

Figure 17. Heqaib, son of Penidebi (QH28).

Figure 18. Current state of Sarenput I’s main door and its reconstruction.

Figure 19. Courtyard, pillars, and façade of Sarenput I's funerary complex (QH36).

Figure 20. Current state of Sarenput I's pillars with a reconstruction of the original plan.

Figure 21. Edited photograph of Sarenput I's façade without the pillars.

Figure 22. Drawing of Sarenput I’s daughters and granddaughter.

Figure 23. Heqaib I’s relief on the façade of his father’s funerary complex (QH36.

Figure 24. Khema’s ka -chapel erected by Sarenput II, in the Sanctuary of Heqaib.

Figure 25. Closing system of Ii-shemai’s funerary chamber.

Figure 26. Detail of the front side of Ii-shemai’s inner coffin showing his filiation.

Figure 27. Scenes depicted in Sarenput II’s ka-chapel.

Figure 28. Current state of Heqaib II’s ka-chapel (QH30), with stored material from Edel’s excavations.

Figure 29. Inscription from Sehel from the time of Heqaib-ankh (SHE 152).

Figure 30. Section of QH33 as found in 2008.

Figure 31. Steps outside QH33 courtyard.

Figure 32. Platforms inside the QH33 courtyard.

Figure 33. QH33 central nave.

Figure 34. Decoration of an inner coffin fragment (from Heqaib-ankh?) found in QH33.

Figure 35. Front board of Khema’s coffin (QH33).

Figure 36. Bronze dagger found in Khema’s wrappings.

Figure 37. Shabti figurine naming Sarenput, son of Neferet-hesu.

Figure 38. Sarenput the Younger shabti with its anthropoid coffin.

Figure 39. Replica of Ameny-seneb’s statue in front of his ka-chapel in the Sanctuary of Heqaib.

Figure 40. Sobekemsaf’s ka-chapel.

Maps and Plans

Map 1. The Nile Valley with the main sites mentioned in the text.

Map 2. Map of the First Cataract region.

Plan 1. Plan of Elephantine showing the Old Kingdom mastabas.

Plan 2. The necropolis of Qubbet el-Hawa.

Plan 3. Plan of tomb QH35p.

Plan 4. Heqaib religious complex.

Plan 5. Development of the sanctuary of Heqaib in Elephantine, as proposed by Haeny.

Plan 6. Section and plan of Sarenput I’s funerary complex (QH36).

Plan 7. Situation of the tombs and funerary complexes in the southeastern side of Qubbet el-Hawa.

Plan 8. Plan of QH34bb.

Plan 9. Plans and sections of Sarenput II’s funerary complex (QH31).

Plan 10. Plan and section of tomb QH30 (Heqaib II).

Plan 11. Plan of the funerary chapel and funerary apartments of QH33.

Plan 12. Section of QH33.

Plan 13. Section of the southern part of QH33.

INTRODUCTION

The history of Egypt has been written traditionally from a royal court perspective. This means that the majority of the sources are related to the king’s monuments and inscriptions. The main reason is that the monarch and his immediate circle controlled more resources, ran the administration, and managed the communication of royal ideology. Therefore, today’s scholars have to work with those sources critically, mindful that the majority are imbued with royal propaganda, in order to reconstruct the historical processes that occurred in the Nile Valley several thousands of years ago.

Palace culture constantly radiated out from the royal court to the periphery, with some interruptions during exceptional times which, since the nineteenth century, have been referred to as Intermediate Periods. This created the simplistic vision of the Egyptian province as an appendage of the royal palace; this picture does not, however, reflect reality. Although part of the Egyptian state, every peripheral territory had its own internal dynamics and characteristics, operating at a different level to the royal body politic. Therefore, the study of the provinces is a challenge for the scholar, because it requires local history to be integrated into state history. Although at first sight both seem to be one, the local record a simple witness of the decisions taken at the core; the reality is more complex. Without question, the leaders of each province would have adapted general circumstances to fit their own reality in all spheres: political, ideological, economic, and religious. At the same time, however, the peculiarities and transformation of reality in the provinces are, on many occasions, difficult for scholars to see, particularly where available sources are scarce. For most periods, a comparison between the number of historical sources produced by the royal palace and those produced at the local level clearly shows it is easier for the historian to reconstruct the Egyptian past based on the former rather than the latter.

However, sometimes there are happy exceptions, and Elephantine in the third millennium and the first quarter of the second millennium is one such special case. In this region, a fortunate combination of archaeological and important textual finds has allowed us to reconstruct part of Egyptian history from a regional perspective. This opportunity does not mean that studies of Elephantine—or any other territory—could completely rewrite the history of Egypt. Rather, the analysis of local sources makes more visible some of the social processes occurring nationally that are usually overshadowed by the giant figure of the king and by the complex political and administrative apparatus of the royal palace. Of course we have to be conscious that not every local feature can be extrapolated to the entire country because, as we have said, every province or territory had its own particular character.

Map 1. (Opposite and above.) The Nile Valley with the main sites mentioned in the text.

Drawn by A. Mozas-Calvache and edited by the author.

In the case of Elephantine, we have important text documents dating to between the late Old Kingdom and the Middle Kingdom, which were discovered on the island and in its main elite necropolis at Qubbet el-Hawa. Added to these are further texts from the wider First Cataract region and from neighboring areas. These texts are complemented by the findings of archaeological excavations and landscape analysis carried out by different institutions in various areas around the southernmost province of Upper Egypt. These sites, including urban settlements, trade routes, and cemeteries, contain crucial data for reconstructing different characteristics of the life and death of the people who lived there or passed through the area.

The necropolis of Qubbet el-Hawa becomes an ideal site for such analysis, not only for the understanding of funerary rituals and beliefs, but also as a perfect mirror of the social organization of Elephantine. However, previous analysis of the textual and archaeological data needed reevaluating and this has been a major goal of the University of Jaén Project in Qubbet el-Hawa since its launch in 2008. The large quantity of tombs, the scarcity of records from excavations carried out prior to 1957, and the lack of analysis of much of the archaeological material discovered up until our project began have been a clear disadvantage which will take decades of study to put right. The present book marks just the beginning of this long endeavor, in which we are combining the investigation of earlier finds with the new material discovered during our excavations. However, there is an advantage to being in this situation, in that we can investigate with no preestablished ideas. Thus, anthropological methods and theories are applied to the understanding of the social and spatial functioning of the necropolis. In addition, the iconography, architecture, different aspects of religion (including domestic practices), and physical anthropology offer a new historical discourse. My intention is to go beyond the brief description of the area already presented,¹ and write a historical study, which might unify our data and other works published mainly in the last decades, within a regional context and at state level. Focusing on a regional scenario (but as part of a larger picture) permits us to concentrate on the analysis of a much reduced data set (compared with that of the royal court) in order to shed light on how society was organized and interacted. In fact, the local court can be considered as a smaller version of the royal court, where the former emulates the latter.

The history of Egypt (as with the majority of histories with an active historiography between the second half of the nineteenth and the first half of the twentieth centuries) has been generally analyzed from an individual, rather than a group, perspective. This has resulted in a history based on individualities—mainly those of the kings and their personal decisions. Similarly, the governors of Elephantine, who ruled the southernmost province of Egypt during the Old Kingdom, the First Intermediate Period, and the Middle Kingdom, have always been part of this individualistic historical approach. During some periods, written sources in the First Cataract region are especially rich for such a peripheral site. Thus, there are biographical inscriptions carved on the façades of funerary complexes at Qubbet el-Hawa; thousands of graffiti recording visits and expeditions, and commemorating religious events across the region and islands; papyri; inscribed chapels and temples; and artifacts discovered in the funerary context.

The uncommon richness of textual records gives some of the Elephantine high officials a level of (Egyptological) celebrity, being the main actors in the southernmost province who were in control of relationships between Egypt and the neighboring regions. Much of the previous historical analysis focused simply on the description of these men’s great endeavors and deeds, some carried out in exotic and faraway lands, as seen particularly in the biography of Harkhuf. However, these actions have not been analyzed in wider contexts such as, for example, the foreign relationships between Egypt and the different Nilotic and Eastern African communities and groups. Furthermore, the interactions between the royal palace and the local governors of Elephantine—commonly referred to by the devalued titles chief of scouts or leader of caravans—are seen as unidirectional. Thus, the king sent his decree or demand, and the highest official of Elephantine was the person charged with satisfying the royal desire. However, on the majority of occasions, the degree of royal involvement is unknown. For instance, we cannot be certain whether the king participated with contingents in the accomplishment of such missions, or if these tasks were carried out using only local resources. In addition, we do not know whether the extraction of granite was carried out by local workers, or by troops sent from the royal palace, or by a combination of both, as was the case with the mining of amethyst in the times of Senwosret I (see pages 122–23). Doubtless, circumstances varied over time. For example, the granite architectonic elements for the funerary temple of Unas at Saqqara were transported on large boats sent by the king, while, a hundred years later, Sabni II needed to look for wood from Wawat to construct two boats to transport a pair of obelisks for the Temple of Re at Heliopolis (see page 75).

Our knowledge of the administrative and social world of Elephantine is further enhanced by textual evidence mentioning other lower officials, adding a complexity that becomes even more pronounced with the inclusion of women, who are generally eclipsed in a society dominated by men. Social analysis encompassing both genders opens the door to the understanding of how power was held by the main kin group, or a group organized around this kin group. The most recent approach to the social analysis of Middle Kingdom Egypt stresses the importance of the group, rather than the individual.² From this departing argument, Leire Olabarría has created a neologism to go beyond prosopography (the study of the collective biographies of a group of individuals). In koinography, social groups—not individuals—are the preferred unit of social analysis, and using koinographic analysis allows us to give prominence to the role of larger groups formed by individuals who share kinship. This new approach allows us to study power and its management from a plural perspective. In many ways, this new interpretative method is more coherent for ancient societies, offering a wider vision of the society as it existed in reality. In contrast to the predominantly individualistic societies of today’s urban centers, ancient societies were organized around the family group, its dependents, and its possessions.

During the last few decades, historical analyses have been carried out using the household as a key element.³ In ancient Egypt, the term that encompasses household is pr, which is generally translated as house. However, we have to go beyond the idea of building, and also include all kinds of property and people.

The household was a microcosm, providing social identification with respect to other groups, security (in all its senses), provision, support, and solidarity; but it also encompassed a connection with the religious world, personified by the ancestors of the group. Using this approach here, we are aware that the head of the household—in this case the governor—enjoyed a prominent position within different spheres; however, this public individuality is not in opposition to the group to which he belongs, because they are mutually dependent. Moreover, the household leader is not only the representative for his group in local society, but also in the administration.⁴ Therefore, the highest official is surrounded by other agents,⁵ and, in this book, all will be considered as part of the historical reconstruction presented.

As part of our reconstruction, it is necessary to emphasize one basic characteristic of the internal functioning of households in ancient Egypt—specifically those with a larger number of members. Such households were structured hierarchically with a gender asymmetry. This is clearly visible, for instance, in the tomb decoration, where the high official dominates the scenes (both in size and prominence), or in the spatial distribution of the funerary chapels and tombs in the necropolis. It is also obvious from the quantity and quality of the funerary offerings presented to the governor after his death by other members of the household, mainly as part of the cult of the deceased.⁶ In return for the submission of other members, the head of the household was obligated to carry out certain duties with respect to them: providing protection, care (provisioning and wellbeing), and social rank with regard to other households.

In the following chapters, the reader will find that the local elite in Elephantine comprised only a small number of families (the elite community),⁷ who were likely interconnected. Sadly, there is no data for the Old Kingdom period to confirm whether Elephantine society was organized around one large leading household (with different branches), or if more than one such family group dominated. What is clear is that the transmission of power occurred inside this exclusive community. Therefore, although the texts recorded biographical episodes of the most prominent individuals, it is always necessary to bear in mind that these men were part of a group that had its own functioning dynamics. In this sense, we might think of the group as a living organism,⁸ in which the different parts of the body (the individuals) have their specific function (social, religious, political, and economic) in the domestic and public spheres. The group developed mechanisms to integrate individuals, to achieve unity of action, and to resolve conflicts of interests in the collective’s favor, related to the group’s common fate. In addition, there were low levels of heritable within-group variation. Obviously, the highest official was the head of this organism and, as a brain, controlled the rest of the body. He, together with his closest members (the nuclear family), enjoyed the majority of the honors, privileges, and resources. In addition, he was charged with various responsibilities. Just as in a body, the brain cannot work without the rest of the organs and parts, so the members of the group and their commitment are essential to the functioning of the entire structure in both inner and exterior spheres. All the members benefit from belonging to this structure, and from any successes that the group may achieve. In this sense, social identity—mainly based on the kin relationship, although not uniquely so (see below)—was the ideal association for this type of functioning. Although written sources do not give many details about the organization of this organism and its original composition, there are some examples that confirm the distribution of duties among the members of the group. The recent discoveries made by the mission of the University of Jaén at Qubbet el-Hawa point in such a direction. The organism had not only to succeed as a social structure; it also had to survive the changing conditions within the political, ecological, and economic environments which, from the late Old Kingdom to the times of Senwosret I, were hostile (or at least unfavorable) to the elite of Elephantine.

Over the last few decades, the majority of scholars considered the household to be the basis of the commonest social organization in the third and the second millennia bce. Although there are several definitions for the term household,⁹ here, we understand it (following Lévi-Strauss’ concept of house¹⁰) to be a private institution with public identity—a complex socio-economic unit formed by a kin group, dependents, assistants, and servants.¹¹ All recognized common ancestors as their own, forming the religious framework of the group. The number of dependents, assistants, and servants transformed a more or less complex family group into a complex household. This means that it was not only blood ties that connected this organization. Dependents, assistants, and servants would be linked to the kin group by fictional or metaphorical ties,¹² but also by physical elements such as the residence buildings and land properties. Furthermore, the servants, who were supposed to be at the bottom of this hierarchical unit, could benefit from the ancestors’ intercession in cases of illness.¹³

Elmar Edel¹⁴ carried out a meticulous study of the hieratic inscriptions of the offerings deposited in some tombs of the late Sixth Dynasty and the early years of the First Intermediate Period. From this study, it is possible to establish relationships between the main officials, who were the heads of their households, and other members of the local community: those belonging to the nuclear family, those who were part of their own household, and dependents or assistants. The individuals with a higher rank would become the elite of Elephantine and manage relationships with the royal palace and the neighboring regions in the name of the king. They administered the economy for the king, but also for their own benefit. This earthly power projected into the sacred sphere, where they acted as substitutes for the king in the daily rituals performed for local deities. As the most powerful group, they associated the public space with the memory of the heads of their households, erecting funerary chapels linked to the administrative areas in Elephantine.

One of the most important aspects dealt with in this book is the funerary world. The Egyptian necropoleis were mirrors of the social organization of the living world. Hence, the majority of the tombs were used by several individuals, who were likely part of the same household. By contrast, it is almost exceptional to find a tomb containing just a single burial.

The best examples for investigating social transference to the funerary world are seen in the funerary complexes of the late Sixth Dynasty governors, where we can observe how the number of individuals buried in these monuments increased during the reign of Pepy II. This can only be explained by the inclusion in the funerary complex of other selected members of the household. It is not an emulation of the royal cemeteries, where the highest court officials were buried around the king’s pyramid; at Qubbet el-Hawa, the highest officials have their own tombs, mainly on the southeastern side of the necropolis. Therefore, the individuals buried in pits in the courtyard of a governor’s complex were directly linked to him and his nuclear family. The burial of these assistants or dependents near to their head of household implies that the connection in life continued in the afterlife, where they benefited from the higher rank of the household’s leader. In addition, they also benefited from the funerary cult that governor received after his death. The deceased governors and other respected individuals became intermediaries between the living world and the divine sphere. It is at this point that the main actor of this story emerges: Pepy-nakht rn.f nfr Heqaib (II).

In this book we will explain Heqaib’s deification process: how a deceased high official became a supernatural individual, who, to the modern mind, can be regarded as a god. We have to take into account that we are departing from a well-established axiom dating to the discovery of the Sanctuary of Heqaib. At that time, the analysis of this figure was in terms of his being a local or minor god; the term saint was commonly used by Egyptologists because it was easily understandable by Muslim and Christian scholars.¹⁵ However, Heqaib did not become a god immediately after his death. His deification was a long process in which funerary beliefs were adapted to fit new political situations during the very late Old Kingdom and the first half of the First Intermediate Period (Seventh–Eighth Dynasties). Heqaib finally became a divine ancestor in the Twelfth Dynasty, clearly emulating (albeit on a smaller scale) the legitimation process of the kings of that period.

This long process developed across three different locations: Heqaib’s residence (the core of his household), his tomb, and his local shrine. As the main figure of the family, Heqaib’s earliest and primary place of cult was his original residence. It is impossible to know whether the governor’s palace found at Elephantine¹⁶ was both the administrative center and the residence of the governor’s family, or if the residence was elsewhere in the neighborhood. Wherever it was located, he would have received a private daily cult together with other earlier prominent members of the household. The public cult would also have been performed daily by his ka-servants at his shrine or chapel on the island, and more sporadically in his tomb. At least from the Twelfth Dynasty, his procession coincided with the festival of Sokar taking place in Elephantine.¹⁷ But the tomb, as the funerary residence of the deceased, was also visited when it was necessary to have direct contact with the afterlife through special petitions, sometimes sent via letters.

Heqaib is probably the most representative figure of the Elephantine elite as well as being the mythical ancestor of the main local household. His devotion in public was shared with other cults present on the island of Elephantine during the late Old Kingdom and the earliest years of the First Intermediate Period. Therefore, he was part of the social and cultural memory of the elite.¹⁸ This means that Heqaib played a key role in the collective memory of the ruling class. In addition, his cult was the center of daily rituals which were part of the local religious tradition. During the turbulent period stretching across the late years of Pepy II and the Seventh–Eighth Dynasties, the figure of Heqaib acquired more relevance than any other of his deceased peers and, due to the political situation in the country, Heqaib was the substitute for certain forms of royal authority that had been royal prerogatives since earlier times. The governors became substitutes for the ephemeral monarchs during this period, resulting in new ways of expressing ideology and justifying power. In this new context, the prestigious deceased was empowered as a symbol of the legitimacy of rule.

After the Theban annexation of the southernmost Upper Egyptian territory, Heqaib’s figure, considered to represent legitimate local rule in earlier periods, was then linked to the Theban lineage inaugurated by Mentuhotep the Great (ca.2100 bce), who was followed by Intef II (2066–17+16 bce). However, this connection with royal power would again change after Egypt was reunified by Mentuhotep II (2009–1959+16 bce). At this time, the legitimacy of rule over the entire country was incontestable and, therefore, the king received his power as the son of Re. Deceased governors from the late Old Kingdom were no longer the transmitters of this legitimacy. Some decades later, Sarenput I readapted the figure of Heqaib to restore the earlier office of governor at Ta-Sety, claiming family ties with the deceased governor and, therefore, the right to exercise rule over this territory. Heqaib would become the divine ancestor of Sarenput I and his descendants. Thus, the cult of Heqaib was the means to justify the family’s right to rule over the southernmost nome of Upper Egypt. During the Twelfth Dynasty, Heqaib was the god of a large family who held the major political, religious, and economic responsibilities in Ta-Sety. During the first years of the Thirteenth Dynasty, the increasing complexity in local government resulted in the association of Heqaib with the management of administrative offices; at this time he would have been considered a local god, rather than a family deity.

Throughout this work, I have tried to be