Eating and Drinking
Eating and Drinking
www.zaphon.de dubsar 33
Zaphon
Band 33
Zaphon
Münster
2024
Illustration on the cover: designed by Maria Letizia Ferri,
Department of Historical Studies, University of Torino.
All the essays published in this volume have undergone a peer-review process.
Preface
Stefano de Martino / Elena Devecchi / Maurizio Viano ............................... IX
1. Opening Lectures
‘There is no one to set my table’: Gender Aspects in Food and Drink
Preparation
Cécile Michel................................................................................................... 3
Hittite Foodways: The King as the Provider of his People
Theo van den Hout ........................................................................................ 25
2. Food Production
Viticulture in 1st Millennium BCE Anatolia: New Archaeobotanical
Evidence from Southern Cappadocia and a Regional Overview
Lorenzo Castellano........................................................................................ 45
Cooking Practices in a Central Anatolian Site between the 2nd and
the 1st Millennium BC: Fires and Pots at Uşaklı Hӧyük
Giacomo Casucci .......................................................................................... 57
Dairy Production in SW Iran from the Middle Elamite to the Neo-Elamite
Period
Francesca Giusto .......................................................................................... 73
“Ferment to Be”: Butter and Cheese Production in the Third Millennium BCE
Babylonia
Paola Paoletti ................................................................................................ 89
Reviving Food through Mesopotamian Recipes and Archaeological Data:
New Methodological Approaches to the Ancient Nutrition Studies
Andrea Polcaro / Paolo Braconi ................................................................. 137
Food and Craft Production at Tulūl al-Baqarat, Mound 7: A Typological
and Functional Analysis of Fire and Work Installations from Building A
Eleonora Quirico ......................................................................................... 151
VI Table of Contents
3. Resource Management
Boire et manger d’après la documentation palatiale de Nuzi
(14ème s. av. J.-C.): Première partie: les denrées alimentaires
Philippe Abrahami / Brigitte Lion ............................................................... 165
Feeding māt Aššur: Barley Supplies as a Means of Governance
in the Western Middle Assyrian State
Eva Cancik-Kirschbaum / Aron Dornauer .................................................. 177
Economy and Food Production at the Beginning of Urbanization:
The Case Study of Jebel al-Mutawwaq
Alessandra Caselli / Andrea Polcaro / Juan Ramon Muniz ........................ 197
The Value of Food: Historical, Prosopographical and Quantitative
Aspects of the Final Letters and Related Texts from Ebla Palace G
(3rd Millennium BC)
Amalia Catagnoti / Elisabetta Cianfanelli / Fiammetta Gori /
Marco Bonechi ............................................................................................ 215
On the Logistical Probabilities of Maništušu’s ‘Magan’ Campaign
John Dayton ................................................................................................ 227
Accounting for Alimentary Items in Third Millennium Southern
Mesopotamia: Some Notes on the Role of Waxed Boards in the
Historical Development of Early Mesopotamian Bookkeeping
Massimo Maiocchi ...................................................................................... 243
Health and Social Crises in 108/107 BC as Recorded in the Late
Babylonian Astronomical Diaries
Yasuyuki Mitsuma........................................................................................ 253
Yataraya and the Wine: Her Role in the Palace Administration of Mari
(1775–1762 BC)
Luciana Urbano .......................................................................................... 263
7. Varia
Marad between the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian Empires
John P. Nielsen ............................................................................................ 563
Preface
publisher Zaphon for providing the publication of the proceeding of the Turin
Rencontre.
Stefano de Martino
Elena Devecchi
Maurizio Viano
1.
Opening Lectures
‘There is no one to set my table’
Gender Aspects in Food and Drink Preparation
Cécile Michel*
The contributions to this volume explore the themes of food and drink from many
angles, from production to consumption, including the storage methods, the trans-
formation of raw materials, as well as the economic and social aspects linked to
food. This contribution tackles the topic from a perhaps less studied angle, the
gender aspects of food and drink preparation. It does not include all the phases of
food preparation from the providing of the flora and fauna products up to con-
sumption, but focuses on la cuisine, i.e. the transformation of raw foodstuffs into
ready-to-eat food.
A gender perspective allows us to analyse how a society attributes roles to
each sex. But the differences between female and male roles in food and drink
preparation depend also on the social status of the people, on the milieu and con-
text in which they work, and on other factors, and thus involves the notion of
intersectionality.1
It is generally assumed that the daily preparation of meals at home is the task
of women, while haute cuisine is the work of skilled men.2 Although in France
we are slowly breaking out of this traditional pattern with some women chefs, this
gendered division of food preparation has presumably influenced our reconstruc-
tions of ancient history of food. This presentation proposes an overview of the
*
CNRS, ArScAn-HAROC (UMR 7041), Nanterre & CSMC, Universität Hamburg. I wish
to thank Stefano de Martino and the organizers of this 67th Rencontre Assyriologique
Internationale (RAI) for their kind invitation to the first RAI dedicated to the topic of food
and drink. It was briefly discussed in 2004 during the 50th RAI in Skukuza as the topic was
on fauna and flora (Boshoff, 2007), and earlier in 1969 during the 17th RAI in Brussels
with a theme on feasts (Finet, 1970). I am grateful to Nicole Brisch who kindly polished
the English of this contribution and made thoughtful comments.
1
Zsolnay, 2018: 464 among others.
2
See already Emidoro, 2015: 24.
4 Cécile Michel
topic based on written documentation from the middle of the third millennium to
the first millennium BCE, focusing on specific corpuses found in palaces, large
households, and family archives, and a few representations when it proves to be
relevant for the purpose.3
Practical texts found in a domestic context give hints about the preparation of
food at home, mainly done by women. They also mention occasionally the exist-
ence of shops where specialists sold their products, as butcher’s shops or bakeries.
Some literary and scholarly compositions confirm this reconstruction of a gen-
dered division of food preparations at home. By contrast, the evidence from pal-
aces and large households shows the organisation of food and drink preparation
at larger scale, with many men and women involved. The archives found in these
buildings also provide data about food preparation in the army and offer details
on the work of some food professionals, such as millers, bakers, butchers, etc.
3
The present survey does not include food preparation within temples as this would require
a study on its own. The feeding of the gods involved very specific rituals. Moreover, preb-
ends related to food preparation could be owned by certain people who did not necessarily
perform the work related to it.
4
Michel, 2020: no. 3.
5
Michel, 2001: no. 218: “Give instructions to the female slave, she should grind for me
the old barley for food”. There are, however, Old Babylonian marriage contracts in which
a nadītum is married to a man together with her sister, the latter being in charge of the
grinding, see for example CT 2, 44: 17–25 cited by Barberon, 2012: 230.
‘There is no one to set my table’ 5
was so difficult that even some of the slaves were reluctant to do it, as can be seen
from this complaint of a daughter to her father:6
Forgive me, but you left a ‘real’ female slave behind to work for me. The
female slave quarrels with me. When I tell her ‘Grind 5 litres’, she refuses.
Even as little as 2 litres she refuses to grind. Over there, you have 10 female
slaves at your disposal. Here, I appeal to the whole city for a (single) female
miller!
The bread was baked in the tannur oven, often built in the courtyard of a house.
The situation was similar at Beydar earlier, in the middle of the third millennium,
where each village house had its own tannur, besides the existence of communal
ovens. According to Elena Rova, baking bread in the tannur was done exclusively
by women.7
The preparation of beer is a topic that is regularly discussed in the Old Assyr-
ian letters, as it werew the women, who prepared this beverage for the daily con-
sumption of the household. They prepared beer bread and malt and stored them,
so that they could have the beer made when necessary.8 A lonely woman wrote to
her husband that she was missing him by stating: “The beer bread I made for you
has become too old!”9 In some instances, when they had prepared too many beer
breads, they could even sell some, earning money from their production. Thus,
the preparation of beer appears as a typically feminine and daily occupation.
Women received cooking pots for their culinary activities: a man would send
his wife the copper necessary for making a kettle. Inventories of goods belonging
to women include various bronze and cooper bowls, measuring cups, pitchers, a
great variety of vessels, as well as cauldrons of different sizes.10
More generally, all the cuneiform texts recording women’s property mention
crockery, millstones and mortars, sometimes with specifications.11 Babylonian
dowries of the second and first millennia also include cooking-pots, several mill-
stones used for different types of cereals and mortars.12 A man could also make
gifts to his wife, including for example “1 millstone for isququm-flour, 1 millstone
6
Text Kt c/k 266: 25–34 cited by Dercksen, 2014: 105, n. 135.
7
Rova, 2014: 124.
8
Michel, 2020: no. 132, letter from a man to his wife, “Soak 10 sacks of malt and 10 sacks
of beer bread to prepare (beer)”. Also Michel, 2020: no. 166, from a woman to her hus-
band, “Concerning the beer bread you wrote to me about – the beer bread is certainly made
and ready!”.
9
Michel, 2020: no. 129.
10
Michel, 2020: nos. 134–135.
11
See for Old Babylonian examples Charpin, 1986: 105–108 or Lafont, 2001: 308, no. 5.
12
Dalley, 1980: 57, CT 48, 50 and text no. 9; Wilcke, 1982: 459–460, text no. 6; West-
brook, 1988: 113 (BE 6/1 84), 118–119 (CT 8 2a), concerning nadītums, and CT 8 34b;
Barberon, 2012: 188–189.
6 Cécile Michel
for barley flour, 1 kettle of 20 litres.”13 Martha Roth, in her inventory of Neo-
Babylonian dowries, mentions among other items: sieves, storage jars, pot stands,
goblets, grates, oil bowls, washbowls, bowls, cooking pots, various vats, vessels,
stands for vats, etc. With all such types of kitchen wares, women were well-
equipped to cook.14
We must, however, stress the existence of some inventories of goods belong-
ing to men which also included vessels, cooking pots, and millstones. According
to an Ur III text, the goods belonging to Šunibasum to be divided between his
sons included 3 copper cauldrons, several containers in copper, 4 knives, 1 mill-
stone, pots of aromatic oil, as well as more than 10 000 litres of barley.15 And the
very long Ur III inventory of goods belonging to the governor of Girsu contains
no less than 30 bronze vessels, ten cooking pots in bronze and copper, eleven
millstones, and various quantities of food products.16 However, the possession of
kitchen utensils does not necessarily mean their use. Daily kitchen chores were
clearly in the hand of women.
13
Westbrook, 1988: 119 (CT 8 34b: 8–13), 113–114 (BE 6/1 95).
14
Roth, 1990.
15
Ur III text published by Steinkeller / Postgate, 1992: no. 7.
16
Lafont, 2001: 308–309, no. 7. A comparative study, which is not the scope of this con-
tribution, would presumably show that items linked to kitchen activities are overwhelm-
ingly in the possession of women.
17
George, 2003: vol 1, 716–719, Tablet XI: 221–241.
18
Edubba A: 10–22, from Attinger, 2019.
19
Matuszak, 2016: 237–238, and for the complete edition of the text, Matuszak, 2021.
‘There is no one to set my table’ 7
by buying ready-made food and beer were considered as bad behaving women.
Naturally, rich families had female slaves to perform such repetitive tasks.
As noted by Jana Matuszak, grinding grain was the task of women, but unmar-
ried men were forced to do it themselves according to a proverb of the Early Dy-
nastic collection.20 Literary texts thus suggest that food and drink preparation
were performed daily by the women of the family.
20
Alster, 1992: 20, l. 43–48: “He who does not support a wife, he who does not support a
child the evil state of things is double bad for him: he grinds flour, he has no rushes (…).”
21
Lion, 2013. See also Michel, 2009: 206–208 and Langlois, 2016. Brewing activities are
placed under the patronage to two female deities, Ninkasi and Siriš.
22
George, 2003: vol. 1, 279, iii: 1–15.
23
Stol, 2016: 363–367.
24
Stol, 1971: 168, Lion, 2013 (Old Babylonian) and Michel, 2015 (Old Assyrian). Note
that the tavern is more often referred to as the house of the sabû than its female counterpart.
25
Cooks are mentioned for example in the following texts: CUSAS 8, 53; Harris, 1955:
no. 10 and 33; UET 5, 535.
26
Text TIM 7, 52 dated to Samsu-iluna 7.
27
Richardson, 2010: no. 25 and 30.
8 Cécile Michel
28
Archi, 2002 and Biga, 2016.
29
Biga, 2016: 83.
30
FM 3, no. 60 and Ziegler, 2016a: § 2.
31
Ziegler, 1999: 100–101, Sasson, 2004: 189–197, Lion / Michel, 2022: 23–25. The word
abarakkātum corresponds to two realities: “female administrators” and “bursars”.
32
Chambon, 2018: 17–19.
33
Lacambre / Millet Albà, 2008: 21, Lion / Michel, 2022: 24.
34
Ziegler, 1999: 98–99.
35
Chambon, 2018: 16, 19.
36
Charpin, 1992: 67.
‘There is no one to set my table’ 9
wrote hundreds of tablets, which recorded the daily expenditures of the store-
rooms for the king’s meal.37 The rations received by the women working in the
palace kitchen show that the millers, those in charge of the burrum-cereals, which
were usually girls, and the water carrier were all considered less important pro-
fessions, because their rations were smaller than those of other kitchen workers.38
The Mari correspondence also mentions male specialists, who are referred to
by their personal names and who were sometimes sent to different palaces as
skilled specialists. During the reign of Šamšī-Addu, several cooks fled the service
of the great king to join the palace of his son at Mari. They sometimes even par-
ticipated in the dinners of Yasmah-Addu, which seem to have been quite re-
laxed.39 Some cooks or brewers were bought in another country and brought back
to Mari.40
In Nuzi, during the fourteenth century BCE, ration lists mention male and fe-
male slaves working for the palace kitchen. One of these lists mentions barley
rations for male slaves, which included 4 bakers (ēpû), 1 brewer (sēbiu), 1 person
preparing groats (ša mundu), 2 brewers (sirāšû), and one cook.41 Another text
refers to male cooks, together with female brewers (sirāsâtu) and female flour-
processers (alaḫḫennātu). This last activity is also attested for men in the prince’s
archive (Šilwa-Teššub).42 Both men and women are attested in connection with
the tasks linked to the processing of grain for food and beer, even though the
presence of men seems predominant.
Similarly, the texts documenting Neo-Assyrian palace kitchens preparing
meals for hundreds of people suggest a male-dominated world, especially con-
cerning the cooks. Male workers are listed in great numbers in a broken adminis-
trative text including 220 cupbearers, 400 cooks, 400 confectioners.43 However,
female personnel also worked in the kitchen, but in lesser numbers. There, we find
for example female cupbearers and female bakers. It has been suggested that they
were assigned to the Queen’s service, together with male personnel.44 Unlike the
third and early second millennia Syrian palaces, such as those in Ebla or Mari,
37
Ziegler, 2016a: § 4.3.
38
Ziegler, 2016b: 305.
39
Durand, 1997: no. 2, Sasson, 2015: 305, n. 27.
40
ARM 26, 374, Sasson, 2015: 167.
41
HSS 14, 593: r76, see Lion, 2016: 363.
42
ERL 82+SMN 2963 cited by Lion, 2016: 363–364. According to Nicholas Postgate
(2013: 109–110), in the Middle Assyrian texts from the Aššur temple, ṭē’inu was the miller
who produced flour, while the alaḫḫenu prepared ‘farinaceous products’. This term is also
attested in the middle Assyrian texts of Dūr-Katlimmu, Cancik-Kirschbaum, 1996: 147–
153, no. 10: 12.
43
SAA 7, 21.
44
SAA 7, 26. See Emidoro, 2015: 216, n. 84. Text SAA 7, 9 which mentions the queen
mother’s cupbearer.
10 Cécile Michel
where kitchens were crowded with a busy female staff, sometimes supervised by
men, the textual documentation from the Nuzi palace or the Neo-Assyrian palaces
in the north of Iraq show more men at work in the kitchens.
Fig. 1: On the upper register, a man bleeds out an animal lying on a table. On the lower
register right, a man is grinding grain. From Layard, 1853: vol. II: pl. 36.
The representations of military camps are part of the imagery, in which the
king was presented as a conqueror. The culinary activities that are depicted in the
military camps offer many details regarding the preparation of foods in contrast
45
Kt j/k 97, published by Günbattı, 1998. See the translation of the text by Foster, 2005:
72–73.
46
Bachelot, 2013 and Fales / Rigo, 2014.
47
SAA 5, 215 lists, among others, 20 cupbearers, 12 confectioners, 7 bakers, 10 cooks.
There were also 360 Gurreans and 440 Itu’eans presumably including their own staff. The
deportees had to eat the foods they brought with them.
‘There is no one to set my table’ 11
to non-military scenes, which often only depict banquets but not the preparation
of such banquets (Fig. 1). For example, scenes on the Balawat Gates of Shal-
manezer are an illustration of the different steps necessary in the processing of
cereals: threshing with an equid, sieving, grinding, sifting, etc.48 Similar scenes
can be found on some of the reliefs of the Palace of Sennacherib at Nineveh.49
The butcher’s tasks, especially the cutting up of the animal, are also well-rep-
resented. On a Nineveh relief, a man bleeds out an animal, sheep or goat, which
is lying on the back on a table.50 The head of the animal protrudes from the table
and a jar is placed under it on the ground to collect the blood. At the opposite end
of the table, another man holds the hind legs of the animal.
Another relief, which depicts actions after the capture of a city, shows soldiers
cutting of a ram with their swords and grilling the pieces directly on an open air
fire; no real cooking is involved in the scene.51 The actual cooking activities, be-
side the baking of breads, are limited to the supervision of the cookpot placed on
a brazier, and the preparation of what may be interpreted as condiments in jars.52
48
Schachner, 2007, pl. 2, 4–5, 9, 13. See Curtis and Tallis, 2008 for the Balawat Gates of
Assurnasirpal II.
49
Layard, 1853: vol. II, pl. 36: on the left a man brings a large basket, presumably filled
with cereals, while on the right a man is kneeling in front of a millstone.
50
Layard, 1853: vol. II, pl 36 and Barnett / Bleibtreu / Turner, 1998: pl. 138.
51
Barnett / Bleibtreu / Turner, 1998: pl. 252 (XXVII).
52
For example Barnett / Bleibtreu / Turner, 1998: pl. 138.
53
Some literary texts allude to such professionals. For example, in the later version of the
myth of Nergal and Ereškigal, when Ea gives instructions to Nergal on how to behave in
the Netherworld, he specifies: “When you arrive there (…) when the baker brings you
bread, do not proceed to eat. When the butcher brings you meat, do not proceed to eat.
When the brewer brings beer, do not proceed to drink.” Foster, 2005: 515. Baker, butcher
and brewer are among the various professionals to be found in the kitchens of big institu-
tions, both the baker and the brewer using cereals as basic ingredients.
54
http://oracc.museum.upenn.edu/dcclt/corpus (accessed on 20 March 2022), Old Baby-
lonian Nippur Lu2 (Proto-lu2, Q000047): lines 95–104, 118–127, 708, 789–790.
12 Cécile Michel
of the terms attested in the lexical lists are absent or rarely mentioned in the ad-
ministrative documents. Moreover, this list covers only part of the activities of
both men and women in the preparation of food and drink.
2.3.1 Millers
The miller was in charge of transforming cereals into flour. Palaces consumed
enormous quantities of flour and the personnel assigned to the grinding of cereals
was the most numerous, along with weavers. Grinding cereals does not require
specific skills and people assigned to this task were usually of low status. Grinding
was carried out mainly by women from the Neolithic times. The analysis of some
skeletons of women and girls shows compression injuries to some dorsal vertebra
resulting from the rocking movement of grinding, and also articular changes of
the toe bones linked to kneeling.55
However, Ur III texts mention the existence of a few male millers working
alongside female millers. A text from Girsu dated the 48th year of the reign of
Šulgi lists the semi-free staff working for the great millhouse: the first group con-
sists of 490 millers (kikken 2 -me), including 364 female, 69 children, 56 men,
and 1 elder female, then 11 oil pressers (4 women 7 children), weavers and a great
variety of other personnel including overseer of millers, maltsters (4 men, 1
woman), cook, etc.56 Most of the supervising staff of this great mill were males.
At Garšana, there were also a few male millers working alongside female millers:
“12 female millers, 3 male millers, 4 female sesame pressers.”57 By contrast, the
work of sesame oil presser seems to have been a task that was performed by
women and children at Garšana and Irisagrig.58
The situation of millers is rather the same in the early second millennium Syr-
ian palaces: grinding was regularly done on a large scale in the nēpārātum outside
of the palace; however, some female millers (ṭē’ittum) were also employed in the
palace kitchen. Ration lists mention 14 millers at Mari and 16 at Chagar Bazar.59
This corresponds to the number of millstone stations unearthed in the Old Syrian
55
Molleson, 2014: 15.
56
CT 3, 9–10, see Lafont, 2016: 160. According to Englund, 1991: 398, a woman could
grind 10 litres of grain per day.
57
Kleinerman / Owen, 2009: 312 cite texts 291:1–5//292:1–5. Note that Garšana texts
distinguish two types of millers, a r 3 - r a and k i k k e n 2 , even though the tasks of both seems
to be quite similar. Lafont, 2016: 156 notes that weavers, millers and oil pressers were
associated in the ration lists, as in the Ur tablet UET 3, 1504.
58
This is not the case in the Old Babylonian sources, when men are regularly attested as
oil pressers.
59
ARM 19, 248 and 248*. See also ARM 33, 35, an inventory of the Yahdun-Lîm fortress
staff receiving rations: in all, there were 173 persons, including 10 female millers. At Mari,
women could also be specialised in the preparation of burrum cereals (lāqitāt burri), a task
for which no men are attested, Lion / Michel, 2022: 25, n. 35.
‘There is no one to set my table’ 13
palace Q of Ebla in a room of the north-west wing (L. 3135).60 We should note,
however, that there were also male millers, though in smaller numbers, at Mari.61
At Qaṭṭarā, 300 litres of barley were given to three men with the requirement to
grind the barley in three days.62
In another geographical area and a few centuries later, at Nuzi, there were both
female (ṭē’intu) and male millers (kaṣṣiddaššu).63 In first millennium Sippar, male
prisoners were assigned to grinding flour.64 Thus, the task of grinding cereals,
usually performed by women, could also be done by men, some of them being
prisoners.
2.3.2 Bakers
The flour was then given to bakers. Female bakers were working for the palace at
Ebla in order to bake breads, and they received rations as a remuneration.65 In the
Mari palace, eight female bakers (ēpītū) were producing a great variety of breads
for the king’s meal at the beginning of Zimrī-Lîm’s reign. At Tuttul, they were
three. At Chagar Bazar male bakers are attested in connection with millers.66
A text from Nuzi mentions four men belonging to the palace bakers, presum-
ably working for them.67 Neo-Assyrian texts mention mainly male bakers, to-
gether with other male professionals, such as cooks, cupbearers and confection-
ers.68
Thus, though the bakers in the early Syrian palaces were predominantly fe-
male, male bakers do exist and are the majority in the Mesopotamian palaces from
the second half of the second millennium on.
60
Matthiae, 1989: 170, pl. 88.
61
ARM 21, 381: delivery of textiles to the palace staff including 8 male millers; ARM 23,
610: delivery of wool to various people including male bakers (ēpū) and millers (kaṣṣid-
akū), using here another term to refer to these professionals.
62
OBTR 187:1–5. See also for Old Babylonian male millers OECT 15, 41 from Larsa, in
which two men received grain to produce flour.
63
HSS 14, 97: 12 and 98: 13 cited by Lion, 2016: 363–365.
64
Kim, 2013.
65
Milano, 1990: 44, 57.
66
For Tuttul and Chagar Bazar references see Lion / Michel, 2022: 24–26.
67
HSS 14, 593:26. From the same period, there are female bakers at Alalakh (JCS 8: 11,
no. 159: 7).
68
SAA 4, 144: 8 et SAA 4, 139: 8. However, SAA 7, 24 quotes 1 female spice-bread baker
and her 2 maids.
14 Cécile Michel
animal.69 In Old Babylonian and Middle Babylonian texts, the butcher could re-
ceive complete animals or meat pieces to be prepared.70
Long before the Neo-Assyrian reliefs already mentioned above (§2.2), which
show butchers working in military camps, the butchering of animals is already
depicted on cylinder seals of the female cook of queen Uqnitum at the court of
Urkeš.71
Fig. 2: The two seals of Tuli, female cook of queen Uniqtum at Urkeš
(Kelly-Buccellati, 2019: 121, figs. 11 and 16).
On this seal, a butcher holds a knife and is ready to kill a sheep, while a woman,
is churning butter or cheese in two jars simultaneously. The scene presents the
preparation of food in the palace kitchen, supervised by the female cook whose
name is mentioned in a later seal as Tuli. The later seal also shows a woman, who
is inserting a loaf of bread in a tannur oven, next to the butcher (fig. 2).
It is striking that the Mari corpus which gives so many details concerning the
food sector of the palace, and especially meat, does not mention butchers. For this
reason, Jack Sasson proposed to translate nuhattimum, commonly translated as
‘cook, with ‘butcher’ instead: these butchers would have been in charge of the
preparation and the conservation of the meat.72 In a letter to the king, a high offi-
cial writes: “Let my lord send me a cook so that he can slaughter(?) that ox and
so its meat can go to the palace.”73 Here the cook is clearly performing the task of
69
The Sumerian term g i r 2 - l a 2 is mainly attested in literary and lexical texts and a few
other royal or administrative tablets from scattered periods, as in Nisaba 15, 90: ii4. The
Akkadian word ṭābihu, besides religious, ritual, literary and lexical texts, occurs in a few
administrative texts from the Old Babylonian period on (CAD Ṭ: 6–8).
70
UET 5, 404. Butchers are also attested in Old Babylonian and Neo Assyrian texts as
witnesses in transactions (CT 48, 39: 18, MDP 22, 21: r7; SAA 6, 6: r9; 6, 6:r10), and they
are also found Neo-Assyrian administrative texts listing professionals (SAA 7, 21: 10//22,
r1; 5ii: 46).
71
Kelly-Buccellati, 2019: 416, fig. 11 and 16.
72
Sasson, 2004: 192–194.
73
Durand, 2000: no. 972. In ARM 25, 137, a m u h a l d i m named Mutu-ekallim received
a bronze knife.
‘There is no one to set my table’ 15
the butcher. It is not impossible that the cook at Mari was acting both as a butcher
and a cook, also supervising the preparation of the king’s meal.74 Indeed, to pre-
pare dishes, the cook received various ingredients including vinegar for macera-
tion, and flour, butter, and animal fat for cooking.75
Both male and female cooks worked in the kitchen palaces at Ebla and Mari,
but they are mentioned in different contexts. It is possible that this was due to a
difference in status of male and female cooks, or that male and female cooks were
involved in different activities: male cooks are better identified, they could travel,
and even be exchanged between courts, they also could even receive fields for
their services.76 Only three female cooks are attested at Mari, which seems quite
few, they could have been supervising the kitchen work, just like Tuli at Urkeš.77
During the Neo-Assyrian period, a letter addressed to the king mentions cooks
and other specialists working in the kitchen, who came from Til-Barsip, and all
of them were eunuchs.78 Several cooks at the king’s service are known by their
personal names, just as in the Ebla and Mari.
74
In the debate between the date palm and the tamarisk, the latter specifies: “the cook
kneads dough in my trough.” Foster, 2005: 928.
75
Cooks received low-quality wine at Mari (FM 11, 34, 50, 99, 103, 160), beer at Chagar
Bazar (Lacambre / Millet-Albà 2008: no. 171), flour at Ur (UET 5, 447) or butter at Larsa
(JCS 24, 3).
76
Cooks known by their names at Ebla (Biga, 2016: 83) and at Mari (M.6799, ARM 30:
228–229; M.6824, ARM 30: 470; M.6907, ARM 30: 333; M.7484, ARM 30: 468). For
cooks travelling, see Sasson, 2004: 214–215 and Sasson, 2015: 221, n. 12 and 14, or
bought abroad ARM 26, 374. At Mari they could receive textiles (ARM 21, 381), in other
Old Babylonian texts, even fields (OECT 3, 10: 4).
77
Ziegler, 1999: 102.
78
SAA 1, 184: 4–19.
79
Lion / Michel, 1997: 718–719.
80
Durand, 2000: no. 1234.
81
Sasson, 2004: 190–191; Durand, 2000: no. 959.
16 Cécile Michel
fectioners, all males.82 There were many other people working in the large house-
hold kitchen, but without professional qualification.
2.3.5 Brewer
As already noted above (§1.3), brewing activities were mainly performed by
women during the third and early second millennia. The Sumerian hymn of Nin-
kasi details the operations to prepare beer. Akkadian seals show women brewing
beer in various types of jars.83 However, in the early second millennium large
households, these activities were supervised by men.84 In the Mari palace, female
brewers were preparing different types of beer.85 At Qaṭṭarā, there was a female
beer brewer at the service of Iltani.86
In Nuzi, both male sēbiū and sirāšū and a few female brewers (sirāšātu) are
attested.87 In Middle Assyrian sources, male brewers are the great majority.88 First
millennium Assyrian texts only refer to male brewers.
2.3.6 Cupbearers
The cupbearer, whose task it was to serve beverages to the king, was a high-status
professional. He was sometimes represented just behind the king, for example, on
the relief of Ur-Nanše, king of Lagaš.89 At Ebla, there was a cupbearer for beer
and another one for wine, both were male and are known by their personal
names.90
Cupbearers were probably not involved in the preparation of drinks, but ser-
vicing the drinks would have implied some preparation, such as portioning and
pouring. Mari cupbearers (dumu šāqî) were sent to Terqa to collect ice, presum-
ably to present fresh drinks to the king.91 In Neo-Assyrian texts, this profession
could also be held by women, whose title was šāqītu, presumably she was in the
service of the queen.92
82
See s u m - n i n d a , karkadinnu, and the first millennium epišānu confectioning the sweet
meat called muttāqu.
83
Otto, 2016: 135–136.
84
Breniquet, 2009: 187; Michel, 2009: 206–207. This was for example the case for the
beer office at Chagar Bazar, but these officials are not necessarily referred to as brewers
(l u 2 - b a p p i r ), Lacambre, 2008: 193–203. Texts from the beer bureau do not specify the
gender of the staff producing the drink.
85
Michel, 2009: 206–207.
86
OBTR 207: i22, Langlois, 2017: vol. 2, 192.
87
Lion, 2016: 364.
88
Jakob, 2003: 401–407.
89
See https://collections.louvre.fr/ark:/53355/cl010121762 accessed on 10 January 2022.
90
Biga, 2016: 85.
91
ARM 26, 400.
92
Emidoro, 2015: 219.
‘There is no one to set my table’ 17
*
This brief overview of tasks linked to the preparation of foods and drinks in cu-
neiform sources from a gender perspective does not provide a clear-cut picture. If
in general, the slaughtering of animals seems to be clearly a male task, all other
kitchen activities were performed by both men and women, but in very different
proportions. The gender distribution of kitchen activities depends on many fac-
tors, including context, social status, geographical area, and time period.
In domestic contexts, women were generally preparing food and beer for the
family and they possessed all the necessary utensils for these activities. Single
men and travellers, when they were not eating at the inn, had to cook for them-
selves. Wealthy families had slaves to prepare the meals. The preparation of beer
seems to be a typically female activity in the third and early second millennia, but
later on, more and more men are involved in this occupation.
The picture is quite different when looking at large household and palaces, on
the one hand, the Syrian palaces of the third and early second millennia, such as
Ebla and Mari, and on the other hand, the late second and first millennia palaces
of northern Iraq. In the first instances, the administrative texts highlight the female
palace personnel, including the kitchen staff mentioned in long ration lists, while
letters describe male staff travelling between courts. For example, the cooks men-
tioned in ration lists were female, while the cooks mentioned in letters were male.
However, we know that in some instances, women could have some responsibil-
ities at the head of the kitchen personnel.
In the Nuzi archives and Neo-Assyrian texts, by contrast, many kitchen activ-
ities seem to have been performed by men. Neo-Assyrian reliefs depict the organ-
isation of military camps and the male kitchen personnel accompanying the king
on his campaigns.
Regarding activities of daily life, the textual documentation offers only a par-
tial picture, and the uneven distribution of sources does not always allow for com-
parisons between different time periods and geographical areas. The conclusion
that can be drawn from this survey is that the traditional view, in which the daily
preparation of meals at home is interpreted as the task of women while haute cui-
sine is the work of skilled men, should be more nuanced; the queen of Urkeš, for
example, had a female chief at the head of her kitchen, and the situation might
have been the same at Mari, where women had responsibilities in the preparation
of the king’s meal.
Abbreviations
ARM Archives Royales de Mari. Paris.
BE The Babylonian Expedition of the University of Pennsylvania.
Philadelphia.
CT Cuneiform Texts from Babylonian Tablets in the British Museum.
London.
18 Cécile Michel
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22 Cécile Michel
1. Introduction
The field of Hittite and Anatolian studies has been well served when it comes to
eating and drinking. First of all, there is Harry Hoffner’s seminal Alimenta Het-
haeorum. Food Production in Hittite Asia Minor of 1974, a thorough lexical study
of agricultural terms, of cereals and other foodstuffs.1 He returned to the topic in
1999 at the Hittite Congress in Würzburg, published in 2001.2 In the following
year, Albertine Hagenbuchner published a detailed study on Massangaben bei
hethitischen Backwaren.3 The Hittite verbs for eating and drinking have been
treated by our colleagues of the Hethitisches Wörterbuch in München. On the ar-
chaeological side, the finds of grain silos in Boğazköy both on Büyükkaya and
north of the so-called Poternenmauer published mostly during the 1990’s accom-
panied by the in-depth analyses of Jürgen Seeher, and at other Anatolian sites
have contributed enormously to our knowledge of cereal species, their production,
storage, and consumption.4 These, in turn, have resulted in a recent host of paleo-
botanical publications.5 Likewise, since the fundamental publication of Angela
von den Driesch and Joachim Boessneck’s book on Reste von Haus- und
Jagdtieren aus der Unterstadt von Boğazköy-Ḫattuša6 other paleo-zoological data
from many sites have been added. They were followed by Ahmet Ünal scouring
the texts for meat consumption in Hittite society.7 On the drinking side, the pres-
ence of many water sources at Boğazköy and the Hittite skills in water manage-
ment, as elucidated by both Andreas Schachner and Hartmut Wittenberg, have
answered some fundamental questions.8 In recent years Carlo Corti has published
1
Hoffner, 1974.
2
Hoffner, 2001.
3
Hagenbuchner, 2002.
4
For an overview and analysis see Seeher, 2000.
5
See, for instance, most recently Diffey et al., 2017, and Pasternak / Kroll, 2017.
6
Von den Driesch / Boessneck, 1981.
7
Ünal, 1985.
8
Schachner / Wittenberg, 2012; Wittenberg, 2017.
26 Theo van den Hout
several articles on wine.9 And finally, in the most recent issue of Anatolica, Gia-
como Casucci analyzed the evidence for hearths and ovens of the Late Bronze
Age at the Anatolian plateau, found both in “simple houses and in public build-
ings.”10
If, using all this information, – and this is just a selection – we try to reconstruct
what was on the Hittite menu, cereals, dairy, and meat are what we see most.
Wheat, barley, spelt, rye, oats and the like were used in what we usually refer to
as “breads” of many shapes and even colors. Besides beef and mutton, goat and
pork were consumed. Since hunting was important, as we will see, we may as-
sume that game was also on the menu, although in all likelihood not on a daily
basis. Practically all parts of animals were either eaten or at least used. Organs
such as liver, heart, and kidneys were usually consumed first since they could not
be preserved long but most other parts could be dried and kept more indefinitely.
Heads, ears, legs, tails, shoulders, sirloin, breast, and ribs are all mentioned, con-
sumed in broths, soups, and stews. In terms of dairy, we encounter milk, butter,
cheeses in various shapes and forms. According to the texts milk seems to have
come mainly from goats and sheep.
Vegetables and legumes provided the necessary fiber and vitamins: lentils,
chickpeas, broadbeans, etc. Our texts also mention onions, garlic, leak, cucumber,
cress and there are lots of other vegetable names that we cannot identify. We en-
counter grapes, figs, olives, apples, pomegranates, nuts, and berries. To spice it
all up one could add cumin or coriander, and of course salt. Sugar, obviously, was
unknown but as a sweetener honey was used (compare the Roman ova mellita or
“honeyed eggs” that became our “omelet”). Fish seems to have been relatively
rare in Central Anatolia. Paleo-zoologists have identified carp and even oyster
shells have been found in the capital Hattusa, several hundreds of miles from the
coast!
Somewhat surprisingly perhaps, the social aspects around eating and drinking
have received less attention. We may suppose that feasting was a major element
in the Hittite cult even though it is rarely described in any real detail. A “great (or:
royal) banquet” was a daily part of the royal funerary ritual but we lack any real
descriptions. That same social side of eating and drinking is responsible for what
may be the saddest sentence in all of Hittite literature. Appu, or Mr. Rich as the
Hittites understood him (compare Engl. op-ulent),11 for all his wealth, was unable
to father any children. The text describes how the parents in his town, perhaps at
some feast during a communal meal, each give their children to eat and to drink,
a true picture of a family idyll, “but Appu gives bread to no one.”12 Depressed and
9
Corti, 2017; 2018; 2019.
10
Casucci, 2020: 190.
11
Van den Hout, 2020: 115–116.
12
KUB 24.8 i 21, ed. Siegelová, 1971: 4–5.
Hittite Foodways 27
despairing he leaves the party, heads home and crashes on his bed, without even
bothering to take his shoes off.
Finally, another social aspect of eating and drinking brings us closer to what I
would like to focus on here. In Old Hittite literature we find several examples of
social engagement and compassion that is expected of the ruling elite. In a kind
of speculum principum, future monarchs while preparing themselves for the du-
ties of kingship learn that food and shelter are the most basic human needs that
they need to provide to their people:
Look after the sick. Give him bread and water. If heat bothers h[im], you
should move him to a cool place. If cold bothers him, move him to a warm
place. (KBo 3.23 obv. 5–8)
This “mirror for princes” has given rise to a certain reputation of humaneness
among the Hittites but how far this extended in real life remains to be seen. We
do see it practiced when royal family members became personae non gratae. Kill-
ing them, even if they were no longer counted among your loved ones, was a real
taboo and might haunt you for the rest of your life or that of your children. As a
result, such ingrates were therefore usually exiled to some faraway place but with
the basics of life provided. Here is the fate of a royal stepmother who the reigning
king accused of bewitching and ultimately killing his wife:
Even then I didn’t kill her. … I gave her a house, she has everything she
desires. She has bread and water, it is all there, she lacks nothing. She’s
alive! She sees the Sun God of Heaven with her eyes. She eats the bread of
life. (KBo 4.8+ ii 8–9, 11–16)13
This brief overview of several aspects of eating and drinking in Hittite society will
have to suffice as an appetizer to what I have chosen to concentrate on here. The
entrée consists of a more political-organizational as well as ideological approach
of the Hittite food economy, and I would also like to add some remarks on icono-
graphy.
2. The Hittite Royal Funerary Ritual and the Anatolian food pyramid
In order to do so, let’s turn to the Hittite Royal Funerary Ritual.14 This text en-
semble is one of the longer and genuinely Anatolian rituals. Performed under the
title mān Hattusi sallis wastais kisari nassuz hassus nasma hassusaras siunis
kisari – which means something like “when in Hattusa a royal loss occurs, when
either the king or queen becomes a god,” that is, dies – it meant to bridge the
period between the death of a Hittite king or queen and their successor without
interrupting the wellbeing of the land. As opposed to many of the therapeutic rit-
13
Hoffner, 1983.
14
For a full edition see Kassian et al., 2002.
28 Theo van den Hout
uals of foreign, that is, for instance, Hurrian or west Anatolian extraction, this one
was actually performed and probably kept updated over time according to changes
in cultic practice and ideology. The ritual lasted for two weeks. The king and
queen’s death was denied at first. After the cremation of the body at the end of the
first day,15 a statue of the deceased was made. A king was portrayed as seated and
holding the typical male attributes of bow and arrows, a queen’s effigy held spin-
dle and distaff. Around the statue the ritual then played out, it was given to eat
and drink, and it was put to bed every night, as if the person were still alive.
The first six days were used to appease the gods and perhaps to prevent the
Netherworld deities from claiming the body. From day seven onwards, each day
was devoted to a specific theme. According to the Hittite text itself, the themes or
topics of this second part are as follows:
day 7 “the day of burning chaff(?)” (harvest(?))
day 8 “the pig funnels water and they cut out a piece of meadow” (animal
husbandry)
day 9 “they churn milk” (secondary products of animal husbandry)
day 10 “day of the plough and they drag(?) the sledge across the threshing
floor”
day 11 “day of hunting, and if it’s a [woma]n(?) they bring her flowers”
day 12 “they cut the vine” (viticulture)
day 13 “day of the laḫanzana-birds”
The script for the final, fourteenth day has been lost to us (or we haven’t recog-
nized it yet). It may have been the day, on which the king finally assumed his
divine fate and “became a god”, as the Hittite expression goes. It was only then
that his death may have been acknowledged and his successor could step into the
spotlight. Together, these themes represented the vital elements, the population’s
sustenance that a ruler, the body politic, as the steward of the land on behalf of
the gods, embodied and guaranteed.16 It is interesting to observe how all themes
of days 7 through 13, even though not always entirely clear in their symbolism,
deal with parts of the food chain for the Anatolian population. For that reason, I
intend to have a closer look at this body of texts through the lens of humans’ basic
sustenance, of “eating and drinking.”
The areas mentioned are those the king was considered to be responsible for
and that, consequently, are the essential elements of royal ideology. Together they
also provide a kind of Food Pyramid with the basic food groups in LBA Anatolian
society. Translated into more modern terms they represent the following food
groups:
15
See van den Hout, 2015.
16
See already Gurney, 1958.
Hittite Foodways 29
17
Twiss, 2019: 116.
18
Diffey et al., 2017: 197.
19
Dörfler et al., 2011: 105.
20
Van den Hout, 2020: 101–103.
21
For a map see Singer, 1984b: 123.
22
On the AGRIG system see Singer, 1984b.
30 Theo van den Hout
make a type of flat bread as well as groats” but also to brew beer and to serve as
fodder for livestock.23 As is more often mentioned, barley is not the ideal bread
ingredient. Its main purpose may have been to serve as animal fodder and to be
consumed by people mostly in times of need, that is, in times of famine and poor
harvests, and/or for seed corn that was to be sown the following year.24 The sec-
ond list of 34 settlements in Telipinu’s Proclamation (iii 34–42) explicitly refers
to the storehouses as imiul[aš] “for animal fodder.”25
The somewhat later texts (ca. 1375 BC) from the provincial site of Maşat
Höyük attest to the high anxiety in ruling circles concerning a stable food supply.
Starving Kaskaeans had started plundering the nearby fields and vineyards. The
crisis is such that the Great King himself takes on a coordinating role and demands
constant updates from his commanders in the area on the condition of grain, vines,
and livestock.26 On the archaeological side, the silos in Hattusa and several pro-
vincial centers like Kuşaklı, Alaca Höyük, or Kaman Kalehöyük, are an eloquent
testament to the Hittite state seeking to guarantee a regular and steady flow of
foodstuffs. With the recurrent droughts in Anatolia as a potential source of vul-
nerability, unrest, and upheaval among the population, the state invested in mobi-
lizing and organizing the staples at a local level and thus tried to provide for the
inevitable lean years. The settlements with storage facilities mentioned in the
Telipinu text cover the core of Hatti-land as well as the Upper and Lower Land
and bespeak a fine-grained and therefore also a small-scale system of local net-
works that together formed the core of the Old Hittite kingdom.27
23
Diffey et al., 2017: 197.
24
Diffey et al., 2017: 187.
25
Hoffmann, 1984: 44–45.
26
Van den Hout, 2007: 395; Hoffner, 2009: 66; Corti, 2017.
27
See Schachner, 2017: 230.
Hittite Foodways 31
shaped breads next to the king. The AGRIG bows to the king and the herald
calls out: “From Ankuwa!” (KBo 10.24 iv 19–30 w. dupls.)28
These products were, no doubt, symbolic only. As we will see shortly, the
Ankuwa community was able to come up with lots more.
Secondly, if it is true that the tons of barley that were stored in the silos were
in large part destined in a normal (that is, non-emergency) situation to serve as
animal feed, that, too, points to an organized infrastructure for animal husbandry.
The Hittite texts attest to impressive numbers of animals, mostly cattle, sheep, and
goats for cultic purposes. For a fall festival in the temple of the Sungoddess of
Arinna in Ankuwa “eleven hundred sheep of the king” are mentioned; for an an-
nual festival for the god Telipinu in Hanhana and Kasha, one thousand are men-
tioned and another thousand plus two hundred cows were to be delivered every
year to the gods of the city of Tarhuntassa:
Also, since Hattusa has assumed responsibility for all the gods of Tarhun-
tassa, those tributes for the cult provisions for the gods of Tarhuntassa will
not be taken out of what my father had given to Kuruntiya, King of Tar-
huntassa nor out of what I, My Majesty, have given him. Instead, if now I,
My Majesty, designate some place for cattle and sheep, whoever might be
responsible for the provisions for the gods, they will start giving to the gods
of Tarhuntassa annually two hundred cows and one thousand sheep. But if
I do not give him a place, then annually Hattusa shall give from (their own)
revenue two hundred cows and one thousand sheep to the gods of Tarhun-
tassa. (Brt. ii 21–30)29
This passage from the famous Bronze Tablet treaty of Tuthaliya IV with Kurunt-
iya details a substantial exemption. In spite of what the province had already re-
ceived in the past, it didn’t need to use that for the local cult. The Hittite king
would either order some other community to come up with the necessary provi-
sions or the capital itself would assume responsibility. Having such numbers at its
disposal implies an organization that is able to or at least claims to be able to react
in a flexible manner to local circumstances when and where needed. We see this
exemplified and, in a way, confirmed in the ‘fourth tablet of rations’ of the KI.LAM
cult ritual, one of the smaller festivals, referred to earlier. It lists the provisions
that individual groups are expected to deliver, and the preserved part of the tablet
mentions a minimum of 21 oxen and 155 sheep. In addition, small numbers of
pigs, hares, birds, fish, and goats are listed.
Returning to the funerary ritual, in order for these provisions to continue un-
interrupted at this moment of great vulnerability, the ritual included days devoted
28
Singer, 1984a: 20.
29
Otten, 1988: 16–17.
32 Theo van den Hout
to agriculture, animal husbandry, and its secondary products. These are the orga-
nized parts of the food economy.
30
Genz, 2007: 51.
31
De Martino, 2001.
32
Cammarosano, 2018: 310–311.
33
Neu, 1974: 14–15.
Hittite Foodways 33
goes hunting, to(?) all the mountains of the Upper Land where Tuthaliya
goes hunting … (KUB 2.1 vi 1–8)34
Another text, KBo 11.40,35 from the same festival provides more detail and de-
scribes the entire kingdom as his hunting grounds: they reach from the Euphrates
(ÍDMāla) to western Anatolia with Arzauwa, Masa, Lukka and the Pontic Gasgaean
lands in the middle. Strangely enough, these attestations virtually exhaust our lex-
ical material for hunting. The word translated in the festival texts concerning
Tuthaliya as ‘hunting’ is šiyatalleške-, lit. ‘working with a šiyattal’, a spear.36 This
brings us to Hittite iconography.
While hunting may be rarely mentioned in the texts, it is a common theme in
Hittite visual culture as has long been recognized. It is most explicitly expressed
in the reliefs at Alaca Höyük where we find scenes of hunting deer, boars, (blocks
14 and 15) and lions. The deer and boar are hunted with bow and arrow, the lion
with a spear.
Fig. 1: Line drawing of the left side of the gate reliefs at Alaca Höyük
(from Schachner, 2012: 138).
Similarly, the Kınık bowl shows scenes with deer (hunted with bow and arrow)
and a boar (hunted with a spear), while lions are also present although the latter
not directly in connection with a hunter.
34
McMahon, 1991: 114–115.
35
McMahon, 1991: 130.
36
CHD Š s.vv.
34 Theo van den Hout
Likewise, the old Hittite seal published by Güterbock as SBo 2.220 shows
scenes from a deer and lion hunt.37
Fig. 3: Old Hittite seal from Boğazköy Fig. 4: Spear head with boar protomes
(from Güterbock, 1942: nr. 220). (from Bittel, 1978).
An actual spear head with boar protomes was described by Kurt Bittel as com-
ing from the same archaeological context as the Sarkışla ceremonial axe. As Bittel
states, it was “undoubtedly” meant for hunting, not for human combat. Likewise
clear is the connection on the silver stag vessel from the Metropolitan Museum in
New York.38 With Hans Güterbock, the goddess is identified as a kind of Artemis
or Diana by the attributes behind her, the tree, the deer at its foot, the hunting bag,
the quiver with arrows, and the two spears, a motif that can be found on several
seals as well. Also, perching on her left hand we see a falcon or hawk, as described
by Jean Vorys-Canby.39 The deity standing on the deer is the well-known Tutelary
Deity of the Countryside, as he is usually called, here shown with a throwing stick
in his right hand, again as per Vorys-Canby, and a falcon or hawk ready to take
off on his left.
37
Güterbock, 1942.
38
See van den Hout, 2018 w. lit.
39
Canby, 2002.
Hittite Foodways 35
Fig. 5: Hand drawing of the frieze on the Silver Stag vessel at the Metropolitan
Museum in New York (from Güterbock, 1989).
Finally, hunting also seems to be the context of the so-called Boston Fist (Fig.
6). The hunting theme is more subtle here, at least for us, but perhaps not for the
ancient viewer. If Vorys-Canby is correct in interpreting the pattern on the hand
not as musculature but as a falconer’s glove, the link is again rather obvious. Also,
the bird sitting on the ground behind the Great King Tuthaliya looks very much
like a hawk or falcon while the hybrid creature at the far right might signify a
mountain god referring to the mountains where we saw another(?) Tuthaliya hunt-
ing. Because of the tendency to date the Alaca Höyük reliefs40 and the Silver Stag
vessel to Tuthaliya IV and because of the dating of the text about Tuthaliya trav-
eling and hunting to the same king, David Hawkins has stressed the importance
of hunting for this king, and Piotr Taracha described this king as “appear[ing] …
in a new heroic role as the hunter.”41
But does all this really only apply to Tuthaliya IV? As is well known, there are
two basic depictions of a Hittite king. One represents the Hittite king as dUTU-ŠI
“My Sun,” as he is referred to in the texts. In these cases, he wears a long robe
over a short kilt, and sometimes the hilt of a sword is visible in his belt underneath
the robe. He has a tight-fitting cap on his head and holds the lituus. The only
difference with the Sun God is that the latter has the winged sun disk hovering
over his head. The other depiction is usually described as the king “in military
garb” or as the “warrior king.” Typical for this portrayal is a standing figure with
a bow across the right or left shoulder, depending on the direction of the figure,
the sword in his belt, the short kilt, and often a spear in the other hand. Compare
the reliefs of a Suppiluliuma in the Südburg, Hattusili III at Fraktın, Kuruntiya at
Hatip, and the Tuthaliya of Temple 5 in Boğazköy. Furthermore, we have the
unidentified figures on the orthostat D in Sapinuwa, and on the Altınyayla stela.
And, finally, there’s Tarkasnawa, king of Mira, on Anatolia’s west coast. In two
of these we see the king, while ‘dressed to kill,’ in the company of a god: the
figure on the Altınyayla stela pours a libation to the Tutelary deity of the Coun-
40
See, however, Schachner, 2012: 139, who advocates a dating to the early 15th or even
the 16th c. BC.
41
Hawkins, 2006; Taracha, 2011: 141.
36 Theo van den Hout
tryside, the “protector of wildlife” (Güterbock, FsKantor 114), and I would iden-
tify the god at Fraktın as the same one. He is holding the throwing stick in his
right hand42 and might have a hawk or falcon perched on his left. Both are direct
references to hunting.
Fig. 6: Frieze from the Silver Fist at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts
(from Güterbock/Kendall, 1995).
If we look at the hunters in the ‘action scene’ on the Kınık bowl, they wear the
short kilt and are armed with bow and arrows or spears while having a sword in
their belt. These are exactly the weapons that Hittite kings are portrayed with in
the reliefs just mentioned. But none of these depictions refer to battle scenes: there
are no chariots, no shields, no enemies are in sight. Battle scenes are extremely
rare anyhow. We have the two(?) Old Hittite reliefs and there is a small plaque
with what seems to be a warrior(?) holding a spear as well as a shield.43 As to the
latter, shields were also used in hunting, and, moreover, it is unclear whether de-
ities or kings are portrayed on these few reliefs.
42
It is important not to confuse (contra Aro, 2022: 517) the throwing stick (as seen, for
instance, on the silver stag vessel in the hand of the tutelary deity) as a hunting instrument
with the kalmuš (possibly a shepherd’s crook) that the king depicted as Sungod and the
Sungod himself hold in their hand with the broad curve downward; also, they carry it in
their left or right hand depending on whether they are depicted facing to the left (left hand,
cf., for instance, the king in YAZILIKAYA no. 64) or the right (right hand, cf., for instance,
Alaca Block 7 or YAZILIKAYA no. 34). The same is true for the hand holding a spear or the
shoulder with the bow.
43
Schachner, 2009: 26–27 w. Abb. 7.
Hittite Foodways 37
The rarity of war scenes in Hittite visual culture matches the generally under-
stated role of battle and war in Hittite texts. Reading the royal res gestae, one gets
the impression that kings went on military campaigns practically every spring and
summer, but their accounts mostly deal with logistics and tactics. As soon as the
fighting starts, Mursili simply says, he enjoyed the support of the gods and briefly
states the resulting conquest. Here’s no king single-handedly slaying throngs of
enemies, as we encounter them in Mesopotamia and Egypt. Rather, the closest
comparanda to the reliefs with kings mentioned earlier (Altınyayla, Fraktın,
Hatip, Sapinuwa, Südburg, Temple 5) are the hunting scenes on the Kınık bowl
and the Alaca reliefs. In all cases he carries the hunting weapons par excellence,
the spear and bow and arrows, as they are depicted also behind the goddess on the
silver stag vessel where they serve to identify her as the goddess of hunting.44 In
light of the absence of battle scenes and the direct association of Hattusili and the
unidentified king with the Tutelary Deity of the Countryside on the Altınyayla
and Fraktın reliefs, it seems worth considering whether we are perhaps dealing
with an iconographic topos here showing the king in his role of outdoors man,
steward of nature and animals and hunter in-chief, rather than the king as the mil-
itary commander-in-chief and warrior king.45 Following Billie Jean Collins and
as stated by her, “The bow and arrow carried by the god (i.e., the tutelary deity,
tvdh) are a symbol of mastery. The king holding the weapons of the hunt … in-
vites symbolic equivalence with the divine Master of Animals. Like the Tutelary
Deity of the Countryside, the king is both predator and protector, leader and pro-
vider.”46
44
Van den Hout, 2018: 118 w. lit.
45
On the interpretation of royal images as the “warrior” king see Aro, 2022: 518.
46
Collins, 2010: 71.
38 Theo van den Hout
47
Rieken et al., 2012.
48
Rieken et al., 2012.
Hittite Foodways 39
are still there, will die, then nobody will any longer prepare bread and li-
bations for you! (KUB 14.14 ++ rev. 22–27)49
The disruption of this cycle is what the population feared might happen, now that
their king, by dying, had forsaken them. In the description of the 13th day of the
funerary ritual, the last one preserved, the text says that the people thought the
king might have acted in anger, too, and might go to the meadow, just as Telipinu
did:
“See, on your lap we have placed(!) the soldier breads, [s]o don’t be angry
anymore! § Be good to your children! Your kingship will be eternal for
generations to come, and then your temple will be revered and offerings
will be ready for you.” … § When (the matter of placing food on) the lap
is over, they bring a r[o]pe, he/she smears it with fine oil and throws it into
the hearth, and th[ey] pour flour on [it]. The wailing women start crying as
follows: “If you go to the meadow, do not pull the rop[e]! Your will come
true!” (KUB 30.19++ iv 1–6, 9–14 w. dupls.)50
Was the rope the last link between the king, his people, and their sustenance? Was
the royal funerary ritual a variation on the theme of the Disappearing Deity myths?
Whatever it was, it seems clear to me, that what they tried to avoid when perform-
ing the ritual was an interruption in the cycle of fertility, a break in their food
chain. The Disappearing Deity myths and the funerary ritual reflect the same basic
anxieties and seek to safeguard the population’s lives, that they have bread to eat
and water to drink, that all will be there, and they will lack nothing. And for that
they looked to the king as the embodiment of fertility, of what the land gives.
After the king’s body has been cremated in the night of the first day after his death
and women have collected the bone remains, an image of the king is outlined on
the smoking and smoldering remains of the pyre and filled up with figs, raisin,
olives, fruit, “parḫuena and galaktar of the gods,” a right thigh bone and a flock
of sheep’s wool. Already at the very beginning of the funeral rites, therefore, the
king is literally and graphically portrayed as the embodiment of the country’s sus-
tenance, the provider of his people.
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Hittite Empire. Power Structures. Berlin / Boston: de Gruyter, 497–601.
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Literature).
49
Rieken et al., 2016.
50
Kassian et al., 2002: 514–517.
40 Theo van den Hout
Canby, J. V., 2002: “Falconry (Hawking) in Hittite Lands”. Journal of Near East-
ern Studies 61, 161–201.
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— 2018: “The Knowledge of Viticulture in Hittite Anatolia: An Interdisciplinary
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— 2019: “The Hittite King and the Vine”. In A. Süel (ed.): IX. Uluslararası Hiti-
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Hittite Foodways 41
Food Production
Viticulture in 1st Millennium BCE Anatolia
New Archaeobotanical Evidence from Southern Cappadocia
and a Regional Overview
Lorenzo Castellano
1
Hawkins, 2000: 516–518.
2
IVRIZ 1, Hawkins, 2000: pl. 292–295; NIĞDE 2, Hawkins, 2000: pl. 30; KEŞLIK
YAYLA, Hawkins, 2000: pl. 305; GÖKBEZ, Faydalı, 1974; and BOR 2, Ünal, 2015. For
chronology see Hawkins, 2000.
3
Weeden, 2018.
4
Weeden, 2018.
5
Masetti-Rouault, 2004.
6
Pfeifer, 1957; Balta, 2017.
46 Lorenzo Castellano
7
E.g., wine is mentioned in the BOR1 inscription (Hawkins, 2000: 518–521).
8
An Hittite oracle text (IBoT 2.129: 12; Taggar-Cohen, 2006: 285–289) mentions wine
from Nahita, likely modern Niğde. See also Gorny, 1995: 157.
9
A review of archaeobotanical research in Anatolia is provided by Marston / Castellano,
2021.
10
Mora, 2010: 18–19, Bergens / Nollé, 2000.
11
Meriggi, 1963. See also Mora, 2010: 18–19.
Viticulture in 1st Millennium BCE Anatolia 47
The northern fringes of the Bor Plain have been investigated by an archaeo-
logical survey conducted by University of Pavia from 2006 to 2009. The survey
resulted in a long-term excavation project at the site of Kınık Höyük – a first-tier
settlement, untouched by previous excavations, and undisturbed by modern con-
structions. Kınık Höyük is composed by an elliptic (180×120m), 20m-high
mound, surrounded by a large lower town, encompassing a maximum extension
of ca. 24ha.12 The site was occupied from the Early Bronze Age to the Seljuk/
Ottoman period, with a possible occupation hiatus in the Late Antiquity (Fig. 2c).
Research on the Bronze Age levels is to date limited, due to a thick later deposit.
12
D’Alfonso / Castellano 2018.
48 Lorenzo Castellano
More substantial is the evidence dating to the Iron Age (KH-P VA, KH-P VB,
KH-P IV), Achaemenid/Early Hellenistic (KH-P III), and Late Hellenistic (KH-P
IIB) periods – which are the focus of this contribution.
The long occupation sequence from Kınık Höyük provided the opportunity to
develop an archaeobotanical project aimed at reconstructing the diachronic his-
tory of the agricultural landscape surrounding the site. In this framework, follow-
ing standard practice, during excavation we collected large volumes of sediment
(ca. 10 to 15L), which were subsequently processed through flotation in order to
extract the charred plant parts therein present. A total of 174 samples have been
currently analyzed (Fig. 2c), which included the study of both wood charcoal and
seed/fruit remains.13
Fig. 2: Plan of the site of Kınık Höyük (a); drone photo (year 2015, from south to north)
(b); periodization and number of archaeobotanical samples (c).
13
Wood charcoal data are published in Castellano, 2021, which includes sampling and
processing protocols. The carpological data are, at the time of writing, unpublished.
Viticulture in 1st Millennium BCE Anatolia 49
In the sampled sequence, the earliest occurrence of both grape charcoal and
seeds dates to period KH-P VA (1000–800 BCE). We cannot rule out that the lack
of Vitis finds from period KH-P VB (1200–1000 BCE) could be due to limited
sampling (Fig. 2c). Following its first appearance, grape is thereafter attested in
remarkably abundant values. A first increase is recorded during period KH-P IV
(800–500 BCE), with grape seeds representing the 8% of the identified economic
seeds/fruits and grapevine charcoal the 2% of the anthracological assemblage. A
50 Lorenzo Castellano
further sharp rise is documented during period KH-P III (500–200 BCE) and KH-
P IIB (200–1 BCE), with grape seeds accounting respectively for the 14% and
16% of the economic plant record, and grapevine charcoal for the 16% and 26%
of the anthracological assemblage (Fig. 4).
Fig. 4: Grapevine charcoal (a) and grape seeds (b) from Kınık Höyük. In wood charcoal
only samples from long-term deposits are considered.14 Absolute values are reported on
top of the bars (count of grape/grapevine remains, number of samples in which the taxon
is found, and 10L concentrations).
14
See Castellano, 2021 for details on wood charcoal analysis.
Viticulture in 1st Millennium BCE Anatolia 51
15
Margaritis / Jones, 2006. At Kınık Höyük grape skins are found sporadically, perhaps
due to taphonomic processes or the impact of flotation on their preservation.
16
IBoT 2.131; see Corti, 2018: 289–292.
17
Miller, 2010; Marston, 2017; Müller-Karpe et al., 1998; Smith / Branting, 2014; Marston
/ Branting, 2016.
52 Lorenzo Castellano
18
Castellano, 2021: 23, with references.
19
Trameri / d’Alfonso, 2020.
20
Strabo, Geography, XII.2.
21
Marston / Castellano, 2021.
22
Riehl, 2009: 106–107.
Viticulture in 1st Millennium BCE Anatolia 53
Fig. 5: (a) relative abundance (calculated on the sum of economic seeds) of grape seeds in
Central Anatolian sequences published with quantitative data; sites with non-quantitative
data are listed; (b) comparison of grape seeds ubiquity at Gordion and Kınık Höyük.
54 Lorenzo Castellano
Southern Cappadocia was surely one of these viticultural regions. Despite the
semi-arid climate, in several phases of the Holocene, the Bor- Ereğli Plain hosted
a variety of humid ecosystems, which presence was promoted by the local (en-
dorheic) hydrographic setting.23 This comparatively higher water availability
likely sustained the presence of a rich agricultural landscape, which included ex-
tensive vineyards. In these terms, to conclude, it is hardly a coincidence that the
relief from Ivriz discussed at the beginning of this paper is located in proximity
to one of the several springs present in the piedmont of the mountains fringing the
plain – directly associating, via royal rhetoric and religious intermediation, water
availability to agricultural abundance.
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docia through Ottoman sources and oral tradition”. In L. Thys-Senocak (ed.):
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(Turkey): woodland vegetation and arboriculture in southern Cappadocia from
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Castellano, L. / Campana, D. / Crabtree, P. / Gürel, A. / Kuzucuoğlu, C. / Matessi,
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23
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Viticulture in 1st Millennium BCE Anatolia 55
Smith, A. / Branting, S., 2014: “Some Phrygian Plant and Insect Remains from
Kerkenes Dağ, Central Anatolia (Turkey)”. Ethnobiology Letters 5, 44–51.
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Cooking Practices in a Central Anatolian Site
between the 2nd and the 1st Millennium BC
Fires and Pots at Uşaklı Hӧyük
Giacomo Casucci*
*
Università degli Studi di Pavia.
I am very grateful to S. Mazzoni, A. D’Agostino, V. Orsi, and G. Torri, who gave me the
possibility to work on the material coming from the archaeological site of Uşaklı Höyük
(MAIAC – http://usaklihoyuk.org/) and guided and assisted me constantly in my master
degree studies. Thanks also go to my college buddies and mission partners who contrib-
uted with their work.
58 Giacomo Casucci
1. Introduction
Over the past 40 years, it has been emphasized how food and commensality take
center stage in everyday social practices, representing a fertile field of research
for developing a better knowledge of ancient societies (Dietler, 2007; Dietler /
Hayden, 2001; Twiss, 2007; Bonneterre, 2021: 1–3).
Foodways – expressly or tacitly accepted within a community – can be con-
sidered the result of various cultural, social, and economic processes which char-
acterize the history of dynamic regions (Villing / Spataro, 2015; Graff, 2018),
such as the Anatolian plateau between the 2nd and 1st millennium BC. This region,
in fact, experienced the formation and rise of a supra-regional state – the Hittite
kingdom (Late Bronze Age – ca. 1650–1200 BC) – and its fall whit the transition
to the Early Iron Age (ca. 1200–900 BC), a phase of transformation and political
and economic reorganization which later led to the formation of the so-called neo-
Hittite kingdoms in the Middle Iron Age (900–700 BC) (De Martino, 2022; See-
her, 2010; 2011; Summers, 2017).
Unfortunately, for what concerns culinary practices widespread in central An-
atolia during the Late Bronze and the Early and Middle Iron Ages, the textual
sources are absent or quite reticent and do not allow us to reconstruct a complete
picture. Only for the Hittite period, we have a good number of cuneiform texts,
where numerous foods are mentioned – as already discussed by Hoffner1 (1974;
2003) – however, without direct references to cooking methods.
Four main Hittite verbs were used to indicate actions related to the preparation
of dishes using heat: zanu-, zeya-, ša(n)ḫu- and paḫḫur-. These express the act of
cooking in the broadest sense of the term and, only based on the object of the
sentence, can be translated with various shades of meaning in modern languages,
such as “boiling, stewing, roasting, toasting,” etc. Despite this limitation, the study
of archaeological findings, such as kitchenware and fire installations, residue
analysis, and zooarchaeological and archaeobotanical studies can provide further
potential information.
At present, studies that specifically examine the cooking tools and culinary
practices widespread in central Anatolian between the Late Bronze Age and the
Iron Age have not been published. Only T. Mühlenbruch (2012) focused on the
formal and dimensional analysis of a group of cooking pots coming from three
key sites, and other information about these tools can be only obtained from the
reading of the preliminary reports and general publications of the main archeo-
logical sites of the region.
1
Greater interest in Hittite commensality is increasingly widespread among scholars in
recent years. Therefore, some information on the Hittite cuisine can be obtained from the
studies carried out by B. J. Collins (1995), S. De Martino (2012), A. Mouton (2017), M.
Cammarosano (2018), and A. M. Polvani (2012).
Cooking Practices in a Central Anatolian Site 59
2. Archaeological data
Uşaklı Hӧyük is a multi-period site located on the upper course of a small river
valley within the heart of the Anatolian Plateau, inside the bend of Kızılırmak and
between the modern cities of Yogazt and Sorgun (Fig. 1). It consists of a high
mound (around 2 hectares) and a large extended terrace with a low, slightly slop-
ing base (10 hectares). Architectural remains from the Late Bronze Age and the
Iron Age have been documented in the three main excavation areas – A, C, and D
– investigated between 2013 and 20203 (Fig. 2).
Specifically, Area A, located on the eastern and south-eastern sectors of the
terrace, is characterized by the presence of a Hittite monumental building (Build-
ing II), of which a course of large stone foundations is preserved immediately
below the surface. Area D, on the southern slope of the mound, has returned a
long and significant Iron Age sequence above the destruction levels of a large
Late Bronze Age building (Building III). Finally, on the eastern side of the mound,
a 25 m long trench (Area C) produced evidence of an extensive and complex
structure which was probably part of a huge rampart, designed to reinforce the
slope and probably part of a defensive wall of the citadel during the Late Iron
Age.
During the excavations, a total of nine fire installations were found, most of
them badly preserved. They can be divided into two general categories: a simple
and open one, called hearth/fireplace; and a closed one, characterized by the pres-
ence of a superstructure and called oven.
2
The preliminary data that will be presented in this paper are part of a Ph.D. research
carried out by the author at the University of Pavia.
3
For a more detailed analysis of the excavation results and a reference bibliography see
D’Agostino et al., 2021. The 2020 excavation season was possible thanks to financial
support granted by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and International Cooperation of the
Italian Republic (MAECI), Foundation “OrMe – Oriente Mediterraneo”, University of
Pisa (Department of Civilizations and Forms of Knowledge; Progetto di Ricerca di Ateneo
2020–2021 ‘Lost Cities’) and University of Florence.
60 Giacomo Casucci
Fig. 1: Map of the Central Anatolian Plateau showing the location of Uşaklı Höyük
(Akar, 2009).
Fig. 2: The southern view of Uşaklı Hӧyük with the investigated areas
(© Uşaklı Hӧyük Archaeological project).
Only the portion of a possible hearth (SU 173) is assigned to the Late Bronze
Age. This was found inside one of the rooms that compose Building III. It is indi-
cated by a roughly circular patch of burnt, darker color – brownish black – than
the light brown color of the hardened clay floor. The reason for the low number
of installations datable to this period could be due to two factors: on the one hand,
only monumental structures have been investigated at the moment; on the other
hand, the state of preservations of archaeological contexts is not usually optimal
Cooking Practices in a Central Anatolian Site 61
and installations are ephemeral in nature and are unlikely to leave archaeological
traces.
If there are no examples of the Early Iron Age,4 instead, for the following
phase – the Middle Iron Age – a total of eight fire installations have been iden-
tified, of which one possible oven and seven hearths. For what concerns the oven
(SU 300), the base and a small portion of the bell-shaped clay superstructure were
still preserved in situ close to a stone wall at the time of excavation (Fig. 3). A
further fragment of the combustion chamber was found in front of the remains of
the installation, above a concentration of black-reddish burnt clay. This fire in-
stallation is about 50 cm in diameter at the base and its walls, about 3–4 cm thick,
are both internally and externally finished roughly and slightly darkened and hard-
ened by fire. It was made with a yellowish-brown clay fabric, moderately coarse
due to the presence of vegetable and mineral inclusions with medium-fine granu-
lometry. The bell-shaped superstructure and the possible presence of an opening
at the base facing south lead to interpret it as a tandır, a type of oven still wide-
spread throughout the Near East today for baking unleavened bread.
4
The presence of a settlement dating back to the Early Iron Age at Uşaklı Hӧyük, for the
moment, is only attested by the discovery and identification of a handmade pottery assem-
blage, coming from some pits and soil deposits above Late Bronze Age Building III. These
manufacts, in fact, show close similarities with Early Iron Age North Central Anatolian
ceramic assemblages found in other sites (Orsi, 2020; Genz, 2001; 2003; 2004).
62 Giacomo Casucci
The remaining fire installations (SU 270, 293, 545, 546, 568, 570, 574) look
like simple fireplaces without boundaries and superstructures. They are identifia-
ble by the presence of ash spots and patches of burnt, a fair amount of crushed
stone, and coal in fragments and corpuscles. Their shape is rather irregular, alt-
hough they seem to have a rounded profile. The dimensions are between 38–85
cm in diameter. They are all placed directly on the floor and near a wall or at the
corner of a room. These locations seem to confirm their primary use for cooking
practices rather than a place to gather around.5 The frequent discovery of baking
plates associated with these installations is a further feature and another possible
clue to their use for cooking activities. These clay artifacts, characterized by a
typical coarse fabric rich in mineral and vegetable inclusions, seem to increase in
number within the Iron Age ceramic assemblages and become a characteristic
element of the Middle Iron pottery repertoire at Uşaklı Hӧyük.6
Finally, a single example of a portable hearth was found out of context
(U14.188) within SU 23a, one of the filling soils of the rampart in Area C. Ac-
cording to the associated material, it can probably be dated to the Iron Age. It was
handmade and characterized by a coarse fabric, rich in vegetable (chaff) and
mineral inclusions with a fairly fine grain size. Its walls are finished through bur-
nishing. Although in a fragmentary state, most likely it had a semicircular-horse-
shoe shape.
At Uşaklı Hӧyük the reference kitchenware for the 2nd millennium BC, specif-
ically for the Late Bronze Age, was isolated within the material coming from the
deep sounding carried out in 2013 inside room 126 of Building II (Area A) and
from the foundations of Building III (Area D) (Orsi, 2018; 2020; Mazzoni et al.,
2019; D’Agostino et al., 2021). It is divided into two main morphological groups:
the so-called Hittite baking plates and cooking pots.
The so-called Hittite baking plates (Fig. 4), as attested in other Late Bronze
Age sites of central Anatolia (Mielke, 2006a; 2017; Schoop, 2006; 2009), are
large vessels (ca. 30–100 cm. in diameter) characterized by a usually coarse
fabric, rich in mineral and vegetable inclusions, and by a usually thickened and
everted rim bearing in some cases rope impressions. Although still in progress,
the statistical analysis of the data collected from the description of the samples
found during the excavation (e.g. incidence of rope impressions, traces of second-
ary burns, dimensions of the rim), the residual analysis, and the attempts to repro-
duce and use these instruments in the laboratory,7 suggest their use for cooking
different types of bread or for toasting – drying some foods.
5
It is likely that fire installations, especially hearths used mainly as a gathering space for
individuals to warm up and consume food, occupied a central position within the room.
6
An analysis and a detailed study of the samples collected during the excavations are still
in progress.
7
The experimental archaeology activities are conducted with the collaboration of LArS,
Cooking Practices in a Central Anatolian Site 63
As for the cooking pots (Fig. 5), the totality of the examined sample has matte
reddish-brown surfaces – where the lines of the wheel are visible both internally
and externally – medium-coarse fabric, including mineral inclusions of medium
and large sizes of various quality and shape. From a morphological point of view,
although no intact vase has yet been found, they are characterized by a typically
rounded shape, the absence of the neck, and the presence of two vertical handles
with a circular or rounded and more rarely a rectangular section.8 The rim, in most
cases, has an external thickening, whereas the remaining is simple. All these
features provide the product with good resistance to thermal shocks and a good
yield on fire (Rice, 1987: 105–106, 229–231, 367–368). In particular, the rounded
shape allowed a greater exposure and distribution of heat over the entire surfaces
of the vase and its contents. The moderate constriction of the opening played a
very important role in preventing overflow and reducing the evaporation of
liquids. The good depth of the body allowed good heat preservation but, at the
same time resulted in a low to medium access factor, which somewhat limited the
manipulation of the contents.
Therefore, manipulating and removing the dry o semi-dry contents required an
instrument. This seems to be confirmed by one of the representations on the
Inandiktepe relief vase (Özgüç, 1988: figs. 64–65), where two figures use ladles,
probably made of wood, to mix the contents inside some pots. Finally, all these
containers have a high portion of the surface with a slope between 60° and 90°.
This element indicates the suitability for heating in suspension above the hot coals
in order to carry out high-temperature cooking, appropriate for stewing and boil-
ing. Proof of the latter hypothesis comes from the excavations of some Hittite
sites, where various fire installations have been identified and interpreted as
Fig. 5: Kitchen Ware, Late Bronze Age (D’Agostino et al., 2020: fig.19).
Fig. 6: Selection of Early Iron Age Kitchen, Handmade Ware from Area D
(Orsi, 2020: fig. 8).
The cooking pots of both periods are characterized by a usually coarse fabric,
rich in mineral inclusions of various shapes and sizes, and by dark brown or gray
surface. The main distinction is that the Early Iron Age ones (Fig. 6) were proba-
bly a household production and usually they have a glossy surface due to the pres-
ence of burnishing (Orsi, 2020); instead, the Middle Iron Age ones (Fig. 7) return
to be mainly manufactured on a wheel, testifying a production on a different scale.
This process of “standardization” is also observed from the morphological point
of view: they pass from a variety of globular bowls or pots and small jars with
66 Giacomo Casucci
flared rims and different types of handles during the Early Iron Age to a product
more homogeneous in the Middle Iron Age when the variant VI B29 becomes very
evident. Despite these differences, the rounded shape and the narrow opening
compared to the body guaranteed good heat distribution on the surfaces, prevent-
ing the overflow and evaporation of liquids. In particular, the flat base allows the
vases to stand steadily and may suggest their positioning next to the heat source
for slow cooking.
3. Conclusions
In conclusion, although for the moment the 13th and 11th centuries BC constitute
an obscure point in the archaeological sequence accentuating the possible signs
of changes,10 what emerges from the preliminary observations on the kitchenware
and fire installations of Uşaklı Hӧyük is that this site, after abandoning its role as
a holy Hittite city, during the Early and Middle Iron Age, first resurfaced as a
small village and then as a residential center with some new culinary practices.
Most likely, the diet of the population of the central Anatolian plateau between
the 2nd and 1st millennium BC remained essentially unchanged, based on agricul-
ture and livestock.11 People continued mainly to eat stewed, boiled, and roasted
vegetable-based dishes12 (wheat, barley, emmer, and legumes) and occasionally
roasted and blanched meat, but the cooking tools seem to have undergone some
changes. This is evidenced at Uşaklı Hӧyük by the disappearance of the so-called
Hittite baking plates in the Iron Age pottery assemblages, by the presence in the
Middle Iron levels of a tandır – a traditional Mesopotamian oven which seems to
be absent in all central Anatolian sites during the Late Bronze Age13 – and by the
9
Jars with medium size collared and triangular rims. The employed reference morpholog-
ical codification is the one underway in the Uşaklı Hӧyük Archaeological Project. For
further detail see D’Agostino and Orsi, 2015: 98–165.
10
For further discussion on the archaeological sequence at Uşaklı Hӧyük see D’Agostino,
2020, and D’Agostino et al., 2021: 59–61.
11
The possible socio-economic readjustment and reorganization within the settlements of
the central Anatolian plateau during the Late Bronze-Early Iron Age transition have been
proposed in two recent papers for the Çadır Höyük site (Ross et al., 2019a; 2019b).
12
For a more detailed picture see d’Alfonso and Matessi, 2021, and the results coming
from the archaeobotanical analyses conducted in the main archaeological sites inside the
central Anatolia region: Boğazköy (Pasternak, 2012; Diffey et al., 2017, 2020; Dörfler et
al., 2011), Çadır Höyük (Smith 2007; Ross et al., 2019b), Gordion-Yassıhöyük (Miller et
al., 2009; Miller, 2010), Kaman-Kale Hӧyük (Fairbairn / Omura, 2005) Kuşaklı-Sarissa
(Pasternak, 1999a; 1999b).
13
For more details see Casucci, 2020. Although developing theses based on negative
evidence is not a theoretically correct procedure, the absence of this type of oven in Late
Bronze Age contexts in central Anatolia could be evidence of a difference in foodways
and bread preferences between the two periods under consideration.
Cooking Practices in a Central Anatolian Site 67
spread of new pottery forms for cooking the foods, such as baking plates, portable
horseshoe-shaped hearths, and new cooking pots.
Specifically, the cooking pots seem to indicate two different ways of using and
preparing food. The late Bronze Age globular cooking pots, with a rounded base
and two handles, appear perfect for cooking on high heat suspending them above
the flame, at a certain distance, employing the cooking pot supports. Afterward –
during the Iron Age – these tools, usually characterized by a flat base and probably
by a single handle, suggest a different cooking mode – perhaps at lower tem-
peratures – by positioning them near the heat source, possibly on a cooktop. The
observation of the burning marks on these instruments coming from Uşaklı Hӧyük
seems to confirm this hypothesis. Although carried out only on samples in a frag-
mentary state – especially on the upper portions of the vase – these are attested
only on 25% of the Late Bronze Age fragments and, vice versa, they sharply
increase in number (65%) on both surfaces during the two following phases.
These data seem to support the theory of social change within the settlement
between the Late Bronze and Iron Ages. At the current state of research, it is not
possible to establish whether this occurred due to elements coming from outside
or from local contexts that remained marginal compared to the central institution
during the Hittite period. However, since everyday objects, such as cooking tools,
are usually reluctant to change, and at least during the first part of the Iron Age,
these had been produced at the household level – probably by the same people
who used them – it is possible to hypothesize that those who moved and/or re-
mained to occupy the void left by the abandonment of Hittite public institutions
reorganized their foodways to the new socio-economic reality.
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Cooking Practices in a Central Anatolian Site 69
*
I wish to sincerely thank Prof. Guido Tallone (Institute of Dairy and Food Technologies
“Istituto Lattiero Caseario e delle Tecnologie Alimentari di Moretta”), for his help in un-
derstanding traditional dairying technologies, as well as Ilaria Ichino (dairy “Azienda
agricola La Capanna”) and Emanuele (dairy “Caseificio Cooperativo Produttori alta valle
Grana”) for allowing me to visit their dairies. I thank also the anonymous reviewer for his
help in improving the article.
**
Independent researcher.
1
F.A.O., 1990: 47–81, 147–278; Salvadori del Prato, 2001; Assolatte, 2006.
2
Sumner, 1988; Nicholas, 1990; Carter, 1996; Abdi, 2001; Sumner, 2003; Alden et al.,
2005; Potts, 2016: 72–77, 143–144, 182, 24–243, 280, 310.
3
Negahban, 1991; Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2010; 2012; 2013; 2014; 2015; 2016; Potts, 2016:
184–197.
4
Goff Meade, 1968; Goff, 1969; 1970; 1976; 1977; 1978; 1985.
5
Thrane, 2001; Mortensen, 2014.
6
Haft Tepe, Phase IV, Area II, Area III and Area IV: Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2010: 10, 17–18,
23–26; 2012: 60–61, 81, 83–84, 97–99; 2013: 168, 171; 2014: 72–79, 88–93, 105–106;
2015: 27–33, Tab. 11. Tal-e Malyan, Phase IIIA, Area EDD, Sectors EE 39, FF 41 e DD
39 e 41: Carter, 1996: 39–42, 45–46, 51, fig. 39. Tepe Guran, Layer B (area GI) and layers
74 Francesca Giusto
were raised near the settlements and that the inhabitants exploited at least part of
the secondary products. The analysis of the animal bones from Haft Tepe,7 Baba
Jan Tepe8 and Tepe Guran9 attest a preponderance of sheep and goats as well as
numerous remains of cattle and, at Baba Jan Tepe and Tepe Guran, of domestic
pigs.10 The presence of structures related to cattle herding, such as an animal en-
closure,11 mangers12 and stables,13 indicates that some of the domestic animals
were kept near the habitation areas. Tools related to spinning and weaving,14 as
well as lithic blades, which could be possibly related to activities such as butchery,
leather processing or shearing,15 testify to the use of at least part of the animal
fibers by the local inhabitants.
The majority of the vessels considered in this paper come from archaeological
contexts devoted to the production and consumption of food (i.e. courtyards and
rooms with hearths, grindstones and pestles), and are related to storage and food
production; few others vessels were instead found in disturbed contexts or their
precise finding context is unknown.
R-N, layers H-J-L, layer D, layer C, layer B (area GII): Thrane, 2001: 11–27, 69–92, 119–
122. Baba Jan Tepe, Phase III: Goff Meade, 1968: 112–114; Goff, 1969: 115–122 (Central
Mound), 126–128; 1970: 144–151, 155; 1977: 104–118, 121–127 (East Mound). Baba Jan
Tepe, Phase II, East Mound: Goff, 1970: 151; 1977: 118, 127–133. Baba Jan Tepe, Phase
I, East Mound and Central Mound: Goff, 1970: 151; 1985: 1–2, 5. For the dating of the
phases at Baba Jan Tepe: Goff, 1970: fig. 1; Levine, 1987: 134–135, fig. 68; Overlaet,
2003: 41; Boucharlat, 2005: 248–249.
7
Mohaseb / Mashkour, 2012. The report of the zooarchaeological study do not distinguish
clearly the archaeological contexts of provenance of the studied animal bones, but it seems
that the studied findings come mainly from the prior monumental phases of the site (Phase
II and Phase III).
8
Karega-Munene, 1991.
9
Clutton-Brock, 2001.
10
For Tal-e Malyan a zooarchaeological study was conducted only on findings from Phase
IV: Zeder, 1991.
11
At Haft Tepe: Area III, Trenches 37–38, 298 (Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2014: 74).
12
At Tal-e Malyan, Area EDD, courtyard 117, Phase IIIA: Carter, 1996: 40. At Baba Jan
Tepe, East Mound, Phase IIb (Goff, 1977: fig. 8, pl. IXb).
13
At Baba Jan Tepe, East Mound, Phase IIB: Goff, 1977: 129, 132, fig. 8, pls. XXa–d.
14
At Haft Tepe: Area III, Trenches 37–38, 298 (Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2014: 83–84). At Tal-
e Malyan: Phase IIIA, Area EDD, Sectors EE 39, FF 41 e DD 39 e 41 (Carter, 1996: 45).
At Tepe Guran: Area GII, settlement layers R, P (phase 5) and D (room T2, phase 7)
(Thrane, 2001: 69, 73, 82, 87, pls. 26.18, 32.6, 47.6).
15
At Haft Tepe: Area III, Trenches 37–38, 298 (Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2014: 83–84, fig. 7).
At Tepe Guran: Area GII, Settlement Layer D (Thrane, 2001: 86, Pl. 47.7). In the latter
case the excavators hypothesize that the flint blades were possibly related to fire-making.
Dairy Production in SW Iran from the Middle Elamite to the Neo-Elamite Period 75
Fig. 1: Production of goat cheese at the dairy “La Capanna” (photo by the Author).
Indeed, to obtain the cheese, rennet20 is added, which speeds up the thickening
process. Then the curdled milk (or “curd”) is cut into pieces and left to drain for
about 24 hours to eliminate the remaining whey, i.e. the liquid part of the milk.21
In order to separate the curd from the whey, plastic baskets are currently used22
(Fig. 1), but ethnographic comparisons document also perforated containers in
16
Area II, Trench 81, layer 5: Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2012: Taf. 7.10, 32.1, n. H.T. 09–81–37.
17
Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2012: 60–61, 66, 92–93.
18
Whitehouse, 1970: 54–55; Yon, 1981: “Faisselle”; Bogucki, 1984; Ellison, 1984: 64,
fig. I:3; Gouin, 1990: 46, 48, figs. 6, 7.d-e; Gouin, 1994: 153, fig. 1; 1997: 167–168, fig.
6.1; Alcock, 2000: 36; Curtis, 2001: 401, pl. 38; Duistermaat, 2008: 440, fig. VI.17: b–c.
On the matter see also: Bozzetti, 1993: 15; Salvadori del Prato, 2001: 3, fig. 1.1; Bozzetti,
2011: 8–9, fig. 1.7.
19
Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2016: 100.
20
On rennet see Bozzetti, 1993: 23–31.
21
Assolatte, 2006: 87–98.
22
As it was possible to see during the visit carried out by the author at two Italian dairies.
76 Francesca Giusto
23
For example, in Italy, XIX sec.: Ryder, 1983: 721; see also the objects exposed at the
museum of pastoralism “Ecomuseo della pastorizia di Pontebernardo” (Valle Stura, Cu-
neo, Italy).
24
For example, in France, 19th–20th c. (Gouin, 1997: 166, fig. 6.2) and in Italy, 19th–20th c.
(Canobbio, Telmon, 2007: 259, Figs. 1713–1714).
25
For example, in Italy, XX sec.: Canobbio, Telmon, 2007: 244, fig. 6124; Canobbio,
Telmon, 2008: 252, fig. 2166.
26
For example, in Iran, 20th c. (Watson, 1979: 110), in Mexico, 20th c. (Gorrell, Alexander,
1972: 179) and in Romania, 20th c. (Ryder, 1983: 721).
27
Salque et al., 2012: 56, 58–59; Salque et al., 2013. More problematic are the results
from the analysis carried on pottery of the Indo civilization: Gouin, 1997: 182, note 61;
Salque et al., 2013: 523.
28
On the issue see Fritzsche, 2011 with bibliography. For a synthesis on the production of
cheese in the ancient Near East through fermentation or through the addition of rennet see
Rosenstock, Ebert, Scheibner, 2021.
29
Ellison, 1978: 186–187; Stol, 1993: 100, 105–108.
30
Stol, 1993: 108; Curtis, 2001: 237.
31
Ellison, 1978: 186; Stol, 1993: 101–102, 104–108; Biga, 1994: 342, note 31; Curtis,
2001: 237–238.
Dairy Production in SW Iran from the Middle Elamite to the Neo-Elamite Period 77
longer periods when dried in the sun.32 A type of such cheese is, for example, the
Iranian kashk, which is obtained from the surfacing part of the milk left to rest
and to ferment, then composed into balls and left to dry in the sun.33 According to
scholars, a cheese similar to kashk could be spotted in Mesopotamian written
texts34 and in Proto-Elamite tablets from Susa.35 Cheese and butter, the latter
possibly obtained from the fermented milk, were produced by professional
shepherds that tended the royal flocks during the Achaemenid empire.36 The
written sources concerning the table of the Achaemenid king mention fresh milk,
sweet sour milk or sweet whey, and an oil apparently obtained from milk
(buttermilk?).37
Nevertheless, the use of filters or strainers would still be necessary for other
operations during the preparation of dairy products. These include the first clean-
ing of fresh milk or the separation, in the production of butter, of the cream from
the buttermilk. Low metal basins with a perforated bottom were used, for exam-
ple, in Australian dairies during the XIX sec. during the working process of butter
(Fig. 2).38
Fig. 2: Production of butter in 1800 in Australia (from Casey, 1999: fig. 4).
32
F.A.O., 1990: 47–80, 147–278, figs. 7, 18.
33
On kashk production see Digard, 1981: 198, fig. 156.
34
Ellison, 1978: 185–186; Stol, 1993: 104–105; Curtis, 2001: 237.
35
Dahl, 2005: 113–115.
36
Briant, 1979: 155. For the Arshama’s estate: Kuhrt, 2007: 823, n. 69.
37
Briant, 1996: 298–304; Kuhrt, 2007: 605, n. 39.
38
Casey, 1999: fig. 4.
78 Francesca Giusto
tered. For example, the use of filters, such as pieces of gauze or sieves, is docu-
mented in the ancient Near East and Greece for the production of perfumed waters
and oils.39 In the so-called ‘culinary tablets’ dating back to the Old Babylonian
period, various ‘recipes’ attest the filtering of food products in the preparation
processes.40 Furthermore, it is not excluded that the strainer bowls were also used
during the consumption of beer,41 which required to be filtered before drinking,42
or during the consumption of wine.43
39
Levey, 1954: 373; Faure, 1987: 65–66; Dayagi-Mendels, 1989: 100–101; Diaman-
dopoulos, 1996: 754; D’Agata, 1997: 88–89.
40
Bottéro, 1987: 14, 16.
41
Duistermaat, 2008: 451.
42
Dayagi-Mendels, 1999: 113–125; Homan, 2004.
43
Moorey, 1980; Stronach, 1995: 180–187; Dayagi-Mendels, 1999: 55–60; Bucci, Giusto,
2016: 74, 79–80 with bibliography.
44
Area GII, Settlement layer J: Thrane, 2001: 75, pl. 34.4. Layer J has been interpreted as
the floor level of the domestic context documented in Layer L: Thrane, 2001: 75, 78, figs.
64–67.
45
Area III, Trench 37, layer 6: Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2014: taf. 28.3, n. H.T. 10–37–507b. In
Area III, Trenches 37–38 and 298, traces of a reoccupation during Phase IV of a monu-
mental building were found: Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2012: 67–71, 81, 85, abb. 5–6, 10, Schema
3, faf. 39.5–6; 2014: 72–84, abb. 3–5, 7–8, Schema 1. A fragment of a similar vessel was
found in the same disturbed context of the bowl with several holes: Area II, Trench 81,
layer 5: Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2012: taf. 22.5, n. H.T. 09–81–49.
46
Goff, 1978: 33, figs. 3.37–40. The sherds come from the Central Mound, Phase III,
levels 1–3, but there is no further information on their context.
47
Central Mound, Phase III, level 2, “Fortified manor” and “West Long Room”: Goff,
1969: 117, fig. 2. On pottery and metal objects from the Phase III, Central Mound: Goff
Meade, 1968: 115–118, fig. 6; Goff, 1970: 151–152, 155, fig. 7; 1978: 29–34, 38–40, figs.
1–4.
48
Goff, 1978: 33, fig. 12.17. The jar is 44,6 cm high.
Dairy Production in SW Iran from the Middle Elamite to the Neo-Elamite Period 79
A function as storage vessels for cheese or other foodstuff that need to dry off
has been proposed for the jars from Baba Jan Tepe.49 The vessels found at Haft
Tepe, instead, have been interpreted in association with beer production,50 while
the fragment from Tepe Guran has been related to wine consumption.51
However, a function related to milk processing can be hypothesized for these
vessels too. The use of cups or funnels with only one hole at the base for milk
processing is documented, for example, in Europe in the modern age (Fig. 3).52
Bowls with a bottom hole found in archaeological contexts outside the Near East
have been interpreted in relation to dairying.53 In the Mesopotamian pottery rep-
ertoire, small jars with one or more holes at the base have been related to the
production of cheese.54
Fig. 3: Tools for dairying in Italy in 1800: vessels with bottom hole are indicated
by a circle (from Cattaneo, 1839).
49
Goff, 1978: 33.
50
Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2010: 36; 2016: 99. In several cases such vessels were re-used at Haft
Tepe for burials (Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2010: 36, taf. 37.4, 38.1, 39.1, 40.1–2).
51
Thrane, 2001: 75.
52
Bozzetti, 1993: 29.
53
Gouin, 1990: 48, fig. 6.a1–2; Juhl, 1995: 93–94, fig. 10.8, nn. F570, F169, F045, “Group
H”.
54
Ellison, 1984: 64, fig. I:2–3.
80 Francesca Giusto
on top of another container (Fig. 4).55 It is possible that here the phase of separa-
tion of the curd from the whey is represented, with the latter collected in the con-
tainer below. In this case, the picture would involve the preparation of cheese for
which rennet has been added to the milk; it is also possible that the action concerns
the production of butter, with the separation of the cream from the buttermilk. On
this regard, the production of butter is widely attested in Mesopotamian texts, par-
ticularly those dating back to the third millennium BCE, where the butter, the
clarified butter (ghee) and the butter cream (buttermilk) were mentioned.56 A Su-
merian composition about Dumuzi briefly describes the production of butter: the
milk is stirred manually inside a container in order to obtain a creamy part (the
butter), while on the bottom remains the liquid portion (whey or buttermilk).57 In
Iran, signs representing clarified butter have been tentatively identified in the
Proto-Elamite documentation from Susa,58 while butter or buttermilk (literally
“oil from milk”) is cited among the food consumed by the Achaemenid king.59 It
is also possible that the initial phase of cleaning the fresh milk is represented in
the aforesaid bas-relief; in this case, the ethnographic documentation testifies that
a tissue is usually inserted inside a funnel; this operation, carried out immediately
after milking, is functional to remove leaves, insects or other foreign elements
from the milk.60
Fig. 4: Relief from the Ninhursag Temple of Tell al’Ubaid (from Gouin, 1993: fig. 1).
55
British Museum, BM 116754 (http://www.britishmuseum.org/research/collection_on
line/collection_object_details.aspx?objectId=368451&partId=1&searchText=ubaid+relie
f&images=true&page=1); on the interpretation of the artwork in relation to dairying see:
Ellison, 1978: 184; Gouin, 1993: 142–143, fig. 2c; 1994: fig. 3.3; Curtis, 2001: 235–236;
Salvadori del Prato, 2001: 3–4; Bozzetti, 2011: 7–8, fig. 1.5.
56
Ellison, 1978: 185; Stol, 1993: 99–103.
57
Jacobsen, 1983. On literary texts and dairy products: Biga, 1994: 336–339 with bibliog-
raphy.
58
Dahl, 2005: 113–115.
59
Kuhrt, 2007: 605, n. 39.
60
Personal communication by Prof. Guido Tallone (Istituto Lattiero Caseario e delle Tec-
nologie Alimentari di Moretta). See also, for Italy, 20th c.: Canobbio, Telmon, 2008: 218,
fig. 1209.
Dairy Production in SW Iran from the Middle Elamite to the Neo-Elamite Period 81
However, it must be remembered that both bowls and jars having a single hole
at the bottom have been also related by scholars to the production of beer61 or
wine.62 A. Sollee highlights how it is not possible to establish a single use for this
type of vessels, since they are suitable for receiving and processing a plurality of
contents in which it is necessary to separate the liquid part from a more dense or
semi-solid part.63
2.3 Basins
A fragment of a basin or a large bowl was found at Haft Tepe64 in the same context
related to domestic production where also the aforesaid bowl with bottom hole
was found. Similar vessels were found at Tepe Guran,65 and Tal-e Malyan66 in
domestic contexts related to food production and consumption. At Baba Jan Tepe,
similar vessels were recovered from the re-occupation levels of Phase II67 as well
as among the remains of the Achaemenid village of Phase I.68
The use of similar vessels for milk processing is testified by chemical analyses
carried out on some containers in Central Europe in contexts dating back to the
61
Ellison, 1978: 147–148; Homan, 2004: 88–89; Duistermaat, 2008: 435, 439, 451, 459–
460, fig. VI.12, fig. VI.17.3: g, l, fig. VI.18: 18.91 I., 64.47 I., 102.29 I; Ebeling, 2009:
388–389; Sollee, 2012: 625–627, 636–637.
62
Badler, 1995: 51–52, fig. 4.3: c; Sollee, 2012: 627, 636.
63
Sollee, 2012: 625, 627, 636.
64
Trench 298, layer 5: Mofidi-Nasrabadi, 2014: taf. 27.4, n. H.T. 12–298–531. Diameter:
26 cm.
65
Area GII, Layer P (phase 5): Thrane, 2001: pl. 32.8; Area GII, Layer B (phase 10):
Thrane, 2001: 121, pl. 62.17. On Layer P: Thrane, 2001: 70–74, figs. 60, 62. The settle-
ment layer B is probably to be related to a similar domestic context, but in this case no
floor was detected: Thrane, 2001: 119–122, figs. 97–98.
66
Phase IIIA, Area EDD, Sector EE39: Carter, 1996: fig. 41.5. On Phase IIIA, Area EDD,
sectors EE 39, FF 41, DD 39 and DD 41: Carter, 1996: 39–42, 44–46, fig. 39.
67
East Mound, Phase II, Room 4: Goff, 1978: Fig. 9.17; East Mound, “Fort”, Phase II:
Goff, 1970: 151–152, fig. 7.2. Three contexts of food production and consumption are
attested on the site during Phase II on the East Mound: the “White Room”, Room 9 (Phase
IIB) (Goff, 1977: 118, fig. 8, pls. VIIe-f), the “Groom kitchen” (Phase IIB) (Goff, 1977:
127, 132, fig. 8, pls. XVb, d), and the “Stone House” (Phase IIA) (Goff, 1977: 132–133,
fig. 7, pls. XIVa-b, XVc). On pottery and metal objects from Phase II, East Mound: Goff
Meade, 1968: 119, 121, fig. 10; Goff, 1970, 151–152, 155, fig. 7; Goff, 1978, 29–34, 38–
40, figs. 9–12, 14–15.
68
Goff, 1985: 3, fig. 2.26, fig. 3.17, fig. 4.16, 39, 9.16. Even if the findings from Phase I
at Baba Jan Tepe point to the existence on the site of a little village during the Achaemenid
period, almost any floor levels were found that could be associated with Phase I, due to
the fact that on a later period the area was used for burials (Goff, 1985: 1–2, fig. 1). On
pottery from the Phase I: Goff, 1970: 152, fig. 8; Goff, 1985: 2–11, figs. 2–9.
82 Francesca Giusto
Chalcolithic period.69 Ethnographic comparisons attest to the use of large and low
vessels to let the milk rest during the production of yogurt, butter or cheese.70 This
allows the formation, on the surface, of the creamy part of the milk due to a spon-
taneous raising process; the wide diameter of the mouth means that a larger sur-
face of the product is in contact with the air, thus allowing a faster proliferation
of enzymes (Fig. 5).71
Fig. 5. Tools for dairying in 1900 in Piemonte, Italy: at the centre there is the basin
for resting the milk (from Canobbio, Telmon, 2008: fig. 2166).
The basins for resting milk, within an archaeological context, couldn’t be par-
ticularly diagnostic.72 However, these containers can possibly be distinguished
from the bowls used for serving or consuming food due to their larger dimen-
sions.73 The presence of decoration can constitute a further criterion of distinc-
69
Craig et al., 2003: 260–261, fig. 2.
70
For example, in modern Pakistan (Gouin, 1990: 51, Fig. 7.i; Gouin, 1997: 167, fig. 5.5–
6), in Australia, XIX–XX sec. (Casey, 1999: 4, Pl. 1), in Italy, 20th c. (Canobbio, Telmon,
2007: 244, Fig. 6124; Canobbio, Telmon, 2008: 252, Fig. 2166), in the Swiss Alps, XVII
sec. (Bozzetti, 1993: 29; Bozzetti, 2011: 22. Fig. 1.16). The use of this specific type of
container for the resting phase of the milk in the butter and cheese production process is
confirmed by Prof. Guido Tallone (Istituto Lattiero Caseario e delle Tecnologie Alimentari
di Moretta) (personal communication).
71
Gouin, 1990: 51.
72
Gouin, 1997: 167.
73
On the matter see: Henrickson, McDonald, 1983: 632; Hally, 1986: 288–290; Juhl, 1995:
34–35; Wilson, Rodning, 2002: 32–33. In the present research, only vessels having at least
a diameter of 26 cm were taken into consideration.
Dairy Production in SW Iran from the Middle Elamite to the Neo-Elamite Period 83
tion.74 On the other hand, the application of a slip or a polished surface would
make the container more suitable for containing liquids.75
3. Conclusion
The attribution of a specific function to a pottery shape on the basis of its mor-
phological characteristics is usually a complex task; moreover, a vessel could be
used in different ways and for more than one type of contents; conversely, differ-
ent types of containers may well serve the same function.76 Bearing in mind these
difficulties, an interpretation of vessels in relation with milk processing could not
be considered as definitive. Nevertheless, considering the specific archaeological
contexts as well as the evidence of herding and exploitation of sheep, goats and
cattle at the sites, it seems plausible that some vessels were used for the production
of milk derivates. The study presented here has thus tried to propose some possi-
ble identifications.
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Dairy Production in SW Iran from the Middle Elamite to the Neo-Elamite Period 87
Paola Paoletti
*
This title was first used in the article “Ferment to be: Yotam Ottolenghi’s kashk recipes”
by “The Guardian”, last accessed August, 24th 2022, at https://www.theguardian.com/
lifeandstyle/2013/jul/19/kashk-kishk-recipes-yotam-ottolenghi. The research on dairy
processing in the third millennium BCE has been carried out within the project i3/šamnum:
Vegetable oils and animal fats in early urban societies of Syro-Mesopotamia – production,
distribution and usage funded by the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft (DFG), and the
Agence Nationale de la Recherche (ANR) led by Walther Sallaberger (LMU Munich) and
Grégory Chambon (EHESS). I am grateful to the team of the i3.MesopOil project, namely
Walther Sallaberger, Grégory Chambon, Anne-Isabelle Langlois, Manon Ramez and
Veronika Gacia for allowing me to use part of the results of our research in this paper. The
research results presented in this article could not have been reached without the invaluable
help of electronic databases of Mesopotamian texts, namely the Data Base of Neo-
Sumerian Texts (BDTNS: http://bdts.filol.csic.es/), the Writing Sumerian corpus (http://
corpus.writing-sumerian.assyriologie.uni-muenchen.de) that also published the trans-
literations of the DFG-project “Sumerian Glossary”, the “Münchner Sumerischer Zet-
telkasten” (https://www.zettelkasten.assyriologie.uni-muenchen.de/) and the Cuneiform
Digital Library Initiative (CDLI: https://cdli.ucla.edu/). I would also like to thank Walther
Sallaberger and Angela Greco for their precious comments and suggestions during the
conduction of this research and the drafting of this paper. Moreover, I am indebted to
Jonathan Taylor, Curator in the Department of the Middle East at the British Museum, for
providing pictures of the tablet BPOA 1 1659. This article also profited greatly from the
stimulating papers and the fruitful discussions held during the workshop “Animal Fats in
the Ancient Near East and Beyond. An Interdisciplinary Colloquium” in Paris on June
16th–17th, 2022. I also would like to thank the anonymous reviewer of the article for
valuable suggestions and corrections in view of its publication in this volume.
Notwithstanding all this, I bear the responsibility for whatever mistake, inconsistency, or
imprecision this article might include. Abbreviations mostly follow BDTNS.
1
Sandor Katz in “The Food Programme” of July 24th, 2022 (https://www.bbc.co.uk/pro
grammes/m0019jv6).
90 Paola Paoletti
1. Introductory remarks
Natural fermentation played in antiquity – and still plays today – a highly sig-
nificant role in food conservation and preparation as “fermentation produces prod-
ucts that are good to eat – and store”,2 from bread to beer, from fish to dairies and
much more, already from the Neolithic onward.3 This is particularly true for geo-
graphical areas where climatic conditions constantly threaten food conservation
and for ancient societies that did not dispose of modern techniques or materials to
preserve or process specific products. Yet, due to the various limits of the archae-
ological techniques and their application, finding archaeological evidence of
something that is a transformative process has been challenging (Hendy et al.,
2021: 199). In the past 20 years, numerous studies increasingly developed archae-
ological approaches to identify dairy practices, like, e.g., the investigation of zoo-
archaeological material for detecting herding strategies, the analysis of oxygen
stable isotope values to determine the milking season of specific breeds or also
lipid analysis on ceramic vessels to determine the consumption and process of
various types of fats. Nevertheless, they can only provide insight into a specific
aspect of the matter (Hendy et al., 2021: 199; Rosenstock et al., 2021: 261–263).
Instead, despite not explicitly documenting manufacturing processes in detail, the
textual sources from south Mesopotamia provide a window into the technical and
cultural aspects of dairy manufacturing in the second half of the third millennium
BCE that other data sets can rarely offer.
Since the early 80ies of the past century, ground-breaking studies by Gomi
(1980), Stol (1993–1997; 1993) and Englund (1991; 1995a; 1994b) paved the way
for the understanding of the numerous Sumerian administrative documents about
butter and cheese. They mapped out the essential terminology regarding dairy
products, disclosing the dairy management system in the Ur III and earlier periods
and revealing yielding rates, delivery quotas and dairy productivity. However,
without absolutely diminishing the invaluable contribution provided by these
studies, further elucidation and a new assessment of these sources have recently
proved necessary, mainly regarding the nature of cheese and butter and their
manufacturing processes. In this respect, the written or the archaeological4 evi-
dence does not document the use of starters and/or rennet. Nevertheless, they
neither can be excluded beyond any doubt in the reconstruction of the operational
sequence of butter and cheese manufacturing in Babylonia during the third
millennium BCE. Instead, we should reconsider the significant role natural
fermentation might have played in all this.
2
Rutherford, 2021: 193.
3
Dunn et al., 2021: 220.
4
Rosenstock et al., 2021: 262, 269.
“Ferment to Be” 91
In this regard, this paper will offer a quick overlook of the available sources
on butter and cheese and their management in Babylonia at the end of the third
millennium BCE. It will then investigate the successive steps of the operational
sequence (“chaîne opératoire”) involving the production, storage and consump-
tion of butter and cheese. In doing this, the following questions will require spe-
cial attention: Can we trace the type of cheese and butter produced and their man-
ufacturing processes? Do we know who produced them and which tools they
used? And, which energy did they exploit, if we can trace any? How high were
yields? Can we estimate how much butter and cheese were produced?
To approach these topics, I will mostly rely on Sumerian administrative doc-
uments of the second half of the third millennium BCE from Mesopotamia, south
Iraq. Especially relevant in this regard are, on the one hand, the provincial ar-
chives of Umma and Ur of the Ur III period in the 21st century BCE. On the other
hand, the Presargonic archive of the Emunus in Ĝirsu,5 together with individual
sources from Umma, Zabalam and Adab,6 as well as scattered Sargonic adminis-
trative documents from Adab, Ĝirsu, and Umma,7 add essential information from
earlier periods, i.e., from the 25th to the 23rd century BCE. The cuneiform sources,
both administrative and literary, rarely entirely document manufacturing pro-
cesses, though they sometimes offer detailed glimpses of the various procedures.
In particular, the administrative texts of the Presargonic to Ur III period allow a
quantification of the data, rarely possible with the written sources of other periods
or genres. Moreover, their richness in technical vocabulary makes it possible to
reconstruct the chaîne opératoire of butter and cheese production. Nevertheless,
I will also consider literary and lexical sources of the early Old Babylonian period
when necessary.
According to the available evidence, dairy products in the second half of the
third millennium BCE were essentially manufactured from cow’s (ab2) or goat's
(ud5) milk, while sheep provided wool and were slaughtered to obtain animal fat
(Englund, 1995b: 399 fn. 45). Dairy management in the Ur III period centred on
two main dairy products: “butter” (i3-nun) and “sour milk cheese” (ga-ara3/
murub4).8 I will discuss the identification of these two products in more detail later
5
E.g., Genava 26 5; DP 272; DP 270; VS 14 131; DP 273.
6
E.g., CUSAS 33 244, CUSAS 33 117 and CUSAS 23 11 from Umma; e.g., CUSAS 35
229 from Adab and CUSAS 33 241 from Zabalam.
7
In Adab, a group of named cow herders and their deliveries of dairies are particularly
well known from various administrative sources, e. g., CUSAS 26 104, CUSAS 20 22,
CUSAS 13 187 and see also the commentary by Pomponio / Visicato, 2015: 107–108.
From Sargonic Umma, e. g., MCS 9 251; from Sargonic Ĝirsu, e.g., ITT 1 01474, see also
the commentary on the expression i3 … de2-a/si3-ga by Deimel, 1926: 10. From the so-
called archive of Šu-ilīšu in Umm el-Hafriyat, e.g., CUSAS 27 21. See also the recent
treatment by Paoletti, 2022h.
8
Englund, 1995b: 415.
92 Paola Paoletti
(§ 5). For now, keep in mind that these two products are, beyond any doubt,
dairies. In particular:
a. i3-nun must be regarded as a fat because the administrative documents and
the thematic lexical list ḪAR-ra = ḫubullu tablet XXIV as well as its old
Babylonian forerunners, list it, together with other oils and fats.9
b. The element ga “milk” unquestionably makes ga-ara3/ga-murub4 a dairy
product.
c. According to the administrative sources from Umma and Ur of the Ur III
period, a constant ratio of 2:3 persists between the quantities of these two
main dairy products, butter (i3-nun) and “sour milk cheese” (ga-ara3/ga-
murub4), when listed, e.g., as herdsmen’s delivery quotas. In contrast, con-
temporary sources from Ĝirsu mainly document a ratio of 1:1.
In this respect, the herders’ delivery records and the records of the provincial
management of dairy products represent by far the most extensive and central
documentation and sometimes the only sources about butter and cheese in the
third millennium BCE. But how did this management of dairies function? To il-
lustrate it, I will now mostly use sources from the provincial archive of Umma, as
they play a paradigmatic role within the Ur III documentation on dairy products
in the Ur III period, if compared to contemporary archives such as those from Ur
or Ĝirsu. I will describe the management of dairy products from the (obvious)
point of view of the provincial administration, discussing the obligations of the
herders toward the government and its bookkeeping system.
9
Nippur Forerunner to ḪAR-ra XXIV, Section no. 8 (partiture from sources B, V, W and
D1) in Reiner / Civil, 1974: 122; Old Babylonian Forerunner to ḪAR-ra XXIV, Forerunner
no. 15 (OECT 4 154 + 159 and collations of Gurney, O.R. plates I–II), ll. 335–351 in
Reiner / Civil, 1974: 157; Old Babylonian Forerunner to ḪAR-ra XXIV, Forerunner no. 17
(= A 7895B), col. vi’ 13–22 in Reiner / Civil, 1974: 161; Old Babylonian Forerunner to
ḪAR-ra XXIV, Forerunner no. 21 (= Copenhagen 10086 source V b: photo, collations and
copy by Westenholz, Aage plate IV), ll. 10–20 Reiner / Civil, 1974: 165; ḪAR-ra = ḫubullu
Tablet XXIV (partiture from sources G, R, F), ll. 90–123 in Reiner / Civil, 1974: 81.
10
The data presented in this paragraph were first discussed by Paoletti, 2022f: §1.
“Ferment to Be” 93
11
E.g., MVN 15 108: “balanced account on fat and cheese” niĝ2-ka9-aka i3-nun ga-ara3,
AS.03.00.00; Santag 6 254: “balanced account on PN, flock overseer of the governor”
niĝ2-ka9-aka PN unu3 ensi2-ka, ŠS.03.03.00.
12
E.g., SNAT 382: “Atu received it” a-tu šu ba-ti, AS.07.00.00.
13
E.g., MCS 8 88 BM 105375: “inspection of the cattle of the governor” gurum2 aka gud
ensi2, ŠS.01.05.00.
14
E.g., SET 130 r. vii 1–2 “balanced account on small cattle, fat, and wool (by) Uree”
niĝ2-ka9-aka udu i3 siki / ur-e11-e, AS.04.00.00.
15
The data presented in this paragraph were first discussed by Paoletti, 2022f: §3.1.
16
E.g., see the delivery quotas documented by BPOA 7 1729 and other similar sources
from Umma in Paoletti, 2022d.
94 Paola Paoletti
with after delivering the expected quotas pace (Englund, 1995b: 378 fn. 4, 383–
384).17
17
Englund (1995b: 378) assumed that “cows under rudimentary care and not selectively
bred for milking have been shown to produce just 700 ‒ 800 litres per year”, and about
half of this amount ‒ ca. 350 litres ‒ “may be required for the rearing of the calf”. This
way, according to Englund (1995b: 383–384), the due delivery quotas from Umma and Ur
represented “from a third to a half of the milk production expected to remain after the
suckling of the calves and so may be considered comparable to the third rental payment
expected from the grain harvest of rented fields best known from the Old Babylonian pe-
riod on”. Though as appealing as these figures are, they must be taken with a certain degree
of caution, although they resemble production figures from the Middle Ages (Englund,
1995b: 378 fn. 4), as they stem from modern stocks in Turkey, Kurdistan and Africa. In-
deed, the annual production of bovine milk depends very much on the geographical, cli-
matological, and environmental characteristics of the region, on feeding strategies and the
availability of specific pastures. Moreover, already since the antiquity, cows have under-
gone a very long selection process for increasing milk and/or meat production (Roffet-
Salque et al., 2017: 7–13). On the one hand, shorthorn cattle began to replace the original
longhorn breed probably around 3000 BCE and evolved physiologically during the
3rd mill. towards higher milk production. On the other hand, cervico-thoracic-humped cat-
tle (so-called “zeboid” by Mason, 1984) likely came from the Makran coast into the Per-
sian gulf towards the end of the 4th mill. and spread into Mesopotamia at least until the
first half of the 3rd mill. BCE. Nevertheless, in southern Babylonia the original humpless
(the shorthorn cattle), as well as the zeboid cattle, were almost completely replaced by the
thoracic-humped zebus during the middle of the 2nd mill. BCE. This encounter with the
original humpless cattle formed also intermediate breeds with small humps cervical or
cervico-thoracic in position that spread among others in Iran and Iraq (Mason, 1984: 6–
16). These facts hence do not allow to compare modern data from the Near East on the
average of milk yield per cow per year with data from the 3rd or first half of the 2nd mill.
BCE (Legel, 1990a: 67–71, tab. 4/1; 144–155; Mason, 1984: 15–16; Roffet-Salque et al.,
2017: 7).
18
The data presented in this paragraph were first discussed by Paoletti, 2022f: §3.2.
19
The record of goat herds and their products AUCT 2 391 is a paramount source about
the delivery quotas of goat herders; see the recent treatment by Paoletti, 2022e.
“Ferment to Be” 95
we can exclude any ties to specific goat breeds20 or a particular period.21 These
two quotas for goat milk products correspond to the processing of respectively 6
litres (lower quota) and 10 litres (higher quota) of fermented milk per nanny goat
per year (see also § 4.1 Table 2 below).
Now, the question arises: can we estimate how much excess goat milk per
nanny goat per year was available to the herders and how the expected delivery
quotas weighed thereon? To do this, we must gather ethnographic data on goat
milk production from modern Near Eastern regions and make clear if we can —
differently from the case of the bovine milk – use them for the analysis of the data
from Umma in the Ur III period (see the treatment below on § 6).
3.3 Delivery quotas of the Ĝirsu goat and cow herders in the Ur III
period22
As in Umma, also in Ĝirsu, the documents registering the deliveries of dairy prod-
ucts by the herdsmen represent the most important sources about butter (i3-nun)
and “sour milk cheese” (ga-ara3). These obligations were fulfilled by defined quo-
tas of these two leading products as butter and “sour milk cheese” functioned as
a benchmark for the bookkeeping here, too, like in Umma and Ur (Englund,
1995b: 415). Specific records document the management of these products, but,
unlike Umma, hardly any annual balanced accounts of dairy management are
available from Ĝirsu.
Unlike Umma and Ur (see § 3.1, 3.2, 3.4, § 4.1), in Ĝirsu, there is a constant
relationship of 1:1 between the two main dairy products, butter and “sour milk
cheese”. Ĝirsu goat herders (sipa ud5, na-gada) were due to deliver 0.3 litres or
0.5 litres of both butter and “sour milk cheese” per nanny goat per year (e.g., CDLI
P210056 and PDT 2 0947; Englund, 1995b: 382 fn. 12, 398 fn. 45, 401 fn. 49,
420 fn. 78). Whereas the delivery quotas of the goat herders are well known, no
sources from Ĝirsu hitherto allow to calculate the delivery quotas of the cow herd-
ers.
A few texts from Ĝirsu document transactions involving butter and “sour milk
cheese” from cows’ and goats’ milk of either the whole province (e.g., CT 05 25
BM 018346, Šu.47.00.00) or of a specific individual (e.g., TCTI 1 00878,
Šu.46.00.00). These sources feature following (final) subscript: “the cows’/goats’
fat (has been) settled” (i3 ab2 (ba)-ĝar-ra), i3 ud5(-da ĝar-ra)). According to En-
glund (1995b: 382 fn. 12), this subscript designated the “norm” for the annual
20
The quotas of possibly different breeds are often calculated together, are the same for
possibly different breeds or the texts do not distinguish possible different breeds.
21
Both quotas are attested in the same period (at least from Šulgi 43 to at least Ibbi-Suen
03).
22
The data presented in this paragraph are collected and discussed in more detail by Pao-
letti, 2022g: §1.
96 Paola Paoletti
quotas per adult cow or nanny goat. Though they instead document the quota of
butter and cheese due by each herder to the provincial administration (see the table
presented by Paoletti, 2022g: §1) because they never indicate the number of cows
and goats involved in the primary milk production and hence, we cannot calculate
the expected quotas of dairy products per animal per year (pace Englund, 1995b:
382 fn. 12, 386–388, 401 fn. 49). Few clay labels for tablet baskets reveal that
these documents were stored together.23
Notwithstanding the lack of data about the number of animals involved in pri-
mary milk production and the lack of sources about the quotas from the cow herd-
ers, Englund (1995b: 382 fn. 12, 387) suggested that Ĝirsu cattle herders were
due to deliver to the provincial administration the equivalent of 10 litres each of
butter and “sour milk cheese” per adult cow per year. These amounts “would rep-
resent the full milk production of those adult cows suckling calves, since 15 litres
of butter oil can be processed from 300–400 litres of milk, dependent on fat con-
tent of the milk and water content of the butter oil” (Englund, 1995b: 388). How-
ever, as already stated for the Umma herders (§ 3.1), there is no way to estimate
how much cow milk was left to the cow herders after the calf rearing, nor how
much goat milk was available to the goat herders at all.
Ĝirsu herders were to fulfil the required delivery quotas with butter and “sour
milk cheese” or deliver the corresponding amount of silver (e.g., SNAT 208).
23
ITT 2, 03391, IS.01.00.00: “tablet basket: cows (and) goats in stock as well as settled
cows’ (and) goats’ fat. It is present” bešeĝ dub-ba ab2 ud5 gub-ba u3 i3 ab2 ud5-da ĝar-ra i3-
ĝal2; MVN 11, R, Šu.48.00.00; ITT 5, 09867, 00.00.00.00).
24
The data presented in this paragraph were first discussed by Paoletti, 2022m: §1.
“Ferment to Be” 97
Ur cow herders could hardly meet these quotas. Thus, he concluded that in Ur,
productivity decreased significantly during the reign of Ibbi-Suen compared to
dairy productivity documented in Umma or Ĝirsu a few years before.
Two texts also register cream (gara2) and fermented/sour milk (ga-še/se12-a)
together with butter and “sour milk cheese” as delivery quotas of dairy products
from cow herders (UET 3 1220, UET 3 1067). As the intermediate product of
butter manufacturing (§ 4.2 Stage 2.1), cream is rarely attested and generally in
low quantities (0.3 to max. 2.3 litres, e.g., in UET 3 1220 and UET 3 1067). In
the Presargonic period, cream instead constituted a delicacy often offered to the
deities (e.g., DP 53).
This shows how Ur herders were to fulfil the delivery quotas not only with
butter and “sour milk cheese” but also with equivalent quantities of sour milk
(e.g., UET 9 0829) or cream (e.g., UET 3 1220). Likewise, they could also pay
the corresponding amount in silver (e.g., UET 3 1198).
Unfortunately, no document from Ur provides data on the delivery quotas of
dairy products by goat herders (Gomi, 1980: 6).
3.5 The delivery quotas of cow and goat herders from the Presargonic
to the Sargonic and the Ur III period25
The following table summarises the butter and “sour milk cheese” delivery quotas
owed by the herders in the Presargonic, Sargonic and Ur III periods. It indicates
the quantity in litres or sila26 per animal per year.
In the Presargonic period, cattle herders had to deliver the equivalent of 10 sila
of butter (i3(-nun) ab2/ud5) and 18 sila of “sour milk cheese” (ga’ara(LAK-490))
per adult cow per year; 3.4? litres of butter and 4.4? litres of “sour milk cheese”
per milk cow per year were due in the Sargonic period;27 the herders in the Ur III
period had to deliver instead 5 litres of butter and 7.5 litres of “sour milk cheese”
per milk cow per year.
Goat herders had to deliver 0.6 sila of butter and 1 sila of “sour milk cheese”
per nanny goat per year in the Presargonic period; 0.3 to 0.5 litres of butter and
0.5 to 0.75 litres of “sour milk cheese” per nanny goat per year were due in the
Ur III period.
25
The data presented in this paragraph are collected and discussed in more detail by Pao-
letti, 2022h; 2022i.
26
In the Sargonic and Ur III periods, one sila corresponded to about one litre; in the Presar-
gonic period, we cannot assume this ratio with any certainty, see Powell, 1990: 503–507.
Englund (1995b: 387) assumed that 1 sila corresponded in the Presargonic period to 1.5
litres.
27
These data stem from an account of bovines and their dairy products from Adab (SEL
19 p. 5 no. 1). Unfortunately, the relevant passage for calculating the delivery quota is
damaged and does not allow a precise reconstruction.
98 Paola Paoletti
28
If we consider the Presargonic sila as amounting to ca. 1.5 litres as assumed by Englund
(1995b: 387), the Presargonic herders were due to deliver at least double as much as in the
Ur III period: 15 litres of butter and 27 litres of cheese per adult cow per year; 0.9 litres of
butter and 1.5 litres of cheese per nanny goat per year.
29
The data presented in this paragraph are discussed also by Paoletti, 2022f: §3.3.
“Ferment to Be” 99
tained under extensive conditions, i.e., kept on natural pastures with little or no
supplementary feeding and absence of modern veterinary care as well as poor
control of the breeding process.30 This allows the establishment of comparable
values combining ethnographic and biological data that we can use to analyse the
data documented in the Umma texts. Therefore, we can use the data on the total
milk yield per lactation period of goat breeds held in Iraq and registered in ethno-
graphic sources. According to Redding (1981: 58, 109) and confirmed by Legel
(1990b: 411–417), two breeds are mainly held in Iraq at present: the “Syrian
Mountain” goat (also known as Baladi, Mamber, Iraqi or Anatolian Black) and
the “Damascus or Shami goat”. Despite being also kept under extensive condi-
tions, the “Damascus goat” yields much more milk than the “Syrian Mountain”
goat, but this is dependent upon good nutrition (green fodder), and it is restricted
to well-watered valleys and areas around cities and villages (Redding, 1981: 109).
Indeed, the total milk yield of goats responds better to the increased nutrition qual-
ity than sheep’s milk yield (Redding, 1981: 109).
Now, according to Ur III sources, goats were, differently from sheep or bo-
vines, not intentionally fed with barley on a large scale (Stępień, 1996: 33). We
have only very few sources of the Ur III period documenting fodder (ša3-gal) for
goats together with equids (anše), pigs and sometimes birds, but this fodder is
destined either to the nakabtum (e.g., AAICAB 1/2 Ashm. 1971–259, Um) or to
Ur (ša3 uri5ki-ma: e.g., OrSP 18 24, Um; Nisaba 15/2 0924, Gi). Therefore, for a
comparison between ethnographic data and data from the Ur III period, we will
consider the “Syrian Mountain” goat, that under extensive husbandry, is not reg-
ularly fed. Redding (1981: 109) refers to ethnographic studies on “Syrian Moun-
tain” goats in Israel that document an average total yield per year of ca. 77 kg (=
74.6 litres)31 of milk per nanny goat kept under bad management and poor feeding,
i.e., typical conditions of extensive husbandry. These goats yeaned once a year;
therefore, this figure corresponds also to the expected milk output per lactation.
The lactation period of the “Syrian Mountain” goat lasts an average of 210 days
(Redding, 1981: 109–110; Marques de Almeida / Haenlein, 2017: 23).
From the data illustrated in § 4.1 table 2 below, we know that the expected
delivery quotas of goat herders attested in the Umma sources corresponded to the
processing of 6 or 10 litres of fermented milk per nanny goat per year. Unfortu-
nately, data about the excess milk of goats is scarce and, if available, only from
30
The administrative documents of the Ur III period with their many details on the man-
agement of small cattle and cattle herds offer a window into the herding strategies followed
in this period. See among others Heimpel, 1993; Liverani / Heimpel, 1995; Steinkeller,
1995; Wu, 1996; Englund, 2003; Brumfield, 2011; Adams, 2012; Tsouparopolou, 2013;
Widell, 2020.
31
For the conversion of kg to litres, I follow Redding (1981: 108), who assumes the spe-
cific gravity of goat milk amounting to 1.0316 kg/m3.
100 Paola Paoletti
breeds held under intensive husbandry (e.g., Legel, 1990b: 461). For this reason,
it is eventually not possible to estimate how much the expected delivery quotas of
6 or 10 litres per nanny goat per year weighed on the quantity of excess milk
available to the herders of Ur III Umma nor how much milk they were left with
in the end.
The herders were to fulfil the expected delivery quotas with butter (i3-nun) and
sour milk cheese (ga-murub4). Still, they could also deliver equivalent quantities
of various other goods, like other dairy products or wool, or a correspondent
amount of silver (e.g., OrSP 47–49 385; Nisaba 09 273; SAT 3 1528; MVN 15
108; Englund, 1995b: 380–384, 394).
4.1 The production of butter and cheese: yield rates in the Ur III period36
Despite primarily documenting the management of dairy products, the adminis-
trative records from the provincial archives of Umma and Ur reveal essential in-
32
See, e.g., the recent study on sesame oil production in the Ur III period according to the
administrative sources from Irisaĝrig by Sallaberger, 2021.
33
As already inferred by Jauß (2017: 31; 2018: 190) for the earlier Uruk period. In this
regard, this assumption might find confirmation in the hymn Lipit-Eštar A (ETCSL
c.2.5.5.1) l. 45: “I am a shepherd making butter and milk abundant in the cowpen” (sipa
e2-tur3-re i3 ga maḫ-me-en (// e2-tur3 -ra , i3 ga x mah -me-en ; i3 ga sag possible dans SS,
mais pas dans TT). Or also the literary composition Enki and the world order (ECTSL
c.1.1.3) l. 30: “the ⸢cowherd?⸣ spends the day rocking his churns.” (⸢unud?⸣-de3 du9–du9
dug
šakir3-ra-(ka)-na u4 im-di-ni-ib-zal-e).
34
See Paoletti, 2022f: §1.
35
Only “(sour) buttermilk” (ga) i/i3-ti-ir-da is twice attested in administrative texts from
Ur, UET 3 1219 and UET 9 0825; see also Stol, 1993–1997: 197–198 and Jacobsen, 1983:
196–197).
36
This paragraph expands the treatment by Paoletti, 2022f: §2.
“Ferment to Be” 101
formation on the yield rates of butter and cheese production from fermented milk
(Englund, 1995b: 418–422).
Five annual balanced accounts from Umma (see Table 2 below) register the
expected yield rate of butter (i3-nun) and “sour milk cheese” (ga-murub4) from
fermented milk (ga-še/se12-a) of both cows’ and goats’ milk. The rate amounts to
5 % of the fermented milk volume for butter and 7.5 % for “sour milk cheese” per
cow or nanny goat per year. The same rates are attested unregarded of the animal
type – cow or goat – and sometimes it is not possible to discern if the rate attested
was tied to a specific milk type. This shows that concerning butter and cheese
yielding rates, no distinction was made between goat’s or cow’s milk. Indeed,
goat’s and cow’s milk are comparable in terms of major nutrient composition,
flavour and appearance (Rosenstock et al., 2021: 257; Park, 2017: 42, 43, 44 and
passim; Redding, 1981: 111–113, Table IV-1). Only the characteristic caseins in
goat (and sheep) milk produce firmer curds than cattle milk; therefore, mixing
milk of different ruminants enhances coagulation (Rosenstock et al., 2021: 257).
The following table summarises the attestations of yield rates from fermented
milk documented in the Umma sources.
These yield rates are entirely consonant with those expected to result from
fermented milk processing into butter and cheese (see below Stage 1). Still, more
importantly, they provide significant empirical values (Englund, 1995b: 418–422
102 Paola Paoletti
+ fn. 76, 77). Moreover, they indirectly confirm that the two main products –
butter and cheese – were made from the same milk batch.
The same rates of 5 % for butter and 7.5 % for “sour milk cheese” are also
attested in Irisaĝrig,37 whereas the documentation from Ur reveals different rates.
Indeed, according to five balanced accounts from Ur,38 the expected yield rate
from fermented milk (ga-se12-a) amounts here to 6.5–6.6 % of the milk volume
for butter and 9.9–10 % of the milk volume for “sour milk cheese” per adult cow
per year (Gomi, 1980: 21 fn. 25). It is still not clear why the yields of butter and
cheese from fermented milk in Ur had to be higher during the reign of Ibbi-Suen
even though the deliveries of dairy products by the herders decreased, probably
as a consequence of the political instability at the end of the Ur III period (Gomi,
1980). It is possible that a poorer nutritional status caused by bad management of
livestock herds led to a lower milk output. But, on the other hand, the Ur herders
might have developed a different or more efficient manufacturing process that
allowed for a higher concentration of fat in the fermented/sour milk (see below
§ 4.2 Stage 1)? In the absence of more data, this must remain an open question.
Interestingly, among nomadic pastoral communities of Khenia, concentrated fer-
mented milk is made by removing whey to increase the total solids in the curd
(Aneja et al., 1990c: § 5.1.2).
As mentioned at the beginning, the documents on the management of milk
products from Umma feature a constant relationship of 2:3 between the two main
dairy products, butter and “sour milk cheese”. In contrast, the administrative
sources from Ĝirsu feature a relationship of 1:1.39 On this basis, we can recon-
struct the following manufacturing process.
37
See Nisaba 15/2 1034 i 3’–5’.
38
The final subscript is not preserved for each of these texts, but because of their structure,
they are nevertheless all to be considered as balanced accounts: UET 3 1215; UET 3 1216;
UET 3 1214; UET 9 1103; UET 9 1026.
39
See also Paoletti, 2022g.
40
This paragraph deals in more detail with the data collected and discussed by Paoletti,
2022l.
“Ferment to Be” 103
41
Milk from horses and donkeys has very high lactose concentration and does not form
firm curds (Rosenstock et al., 2021: 257).
42
Following Rosenstock et al. (2021: 258; 268), spontaneous fermentation of untreated
milk is possible thanks to pro-technological milk-borne microbes (LAB = Lactic Acid
Bacteria) that excrete lactic acid and other substances that inhibit pathogenic microbes.
And even more so if the ambient temperature did not drop below 20°C. See also the ob-
servation by James (1975) that yoghurt is fermented at ca. 40°–50°C (thermophilic LAB),
while sour milk (mesophilic LAB) requires much lower ambient temperature (Rosenstock
et al., 2021: 256) and compare, e.g., traditional dairy manufacturing in Jordan in Palmer
(2002: 184, 192). Rosenstock et al. (2021: 258, 269) also discuss the pros and cons of
mesophilic vs thermophilic LAB fermentation and their different onset conditions depend-
ing on geographical and climatic regions. Mesophilic LAB fermentation does not require
boiling off the fresh milk nor a tight temperature control to ensure the manufacturing of
sour milk and related products. Instead, thermophilic LAB fermentation requires very tight
temperature control and higher temperatures to provide the output of yoghurt-like prod-
ucts, being not suitable for all lifestyles or climates. Moreover, sour milk from mesophilic
LAB fermentation produces lactic acid that can be metabolised by infants. In contrast,
thermophilic LAB fermentation might produce a type of lactic acid (levotary, L-) that can-
not be metabolised by infants.
43
This also strengthens the identification of ga-ara3/murub4 with “sour milk cheese” from
skimmed sour milk (Stage 2.2 below) because full-fat cheese variants are more suited for
rennet than lactic acid coagulation (the latter being best suited for skimmed sour milk
cheeses (Rosenstock et al., 2021: 269).
104 Paola Paoletti
lead to a slightly higher fat concentration (see above § 4.1 on the yield rates from
fermented milk in Ur III Ur).
Fermented/sour milk is written in Sumerian with the terms ga-še/se12(SIG7)-a
(Stol, 1993–1997: 193, 198; Attinger, 2021: 367). In the Ur III period, the term
ga-še-a is attested in the administrative documents mostly from Umma and Puzriš-
Dagān, a few times from Ĝirsu and Irisaĝrig, once also in Nippur (earlier also
once respectively in Sargonic and Lagash II Ĝirsu). In contrast, the variant ga-
se12(SIG7)-a44 mainly occurs in Ur III Ur, sometimes in Ĝirsu and Umma.
Herewith the distribution of these terms is complementary in the Ur III period. As
we already mentioned, according to the herdsmen’s accounts, fermented milk
constituted the basis for butter and “sour milk cheese” production.45
Fermented milk was measured according to its capacity or in jars (dug). It was
poured into and stored in clay jars of different capacities, often ranging from 2 to
15 litres.46 These vessels could have been closed by a piece of leather.47 A text
from Umma lists a sieve for milk and other kinds of sieves.48 These clay tools
could have likely served for the “resting”, i.e., the fermenting of the milk. Again,
according to ethnographical data from north Jordan, they used pottery vessels ra-
ther than skins for the processing of milk. Even the straining of laban, the fer-
mented sour milk, could be done without a straining cloth, and in north Jordan,
they once used pots rather than fabric (Palmer, 2002: 192).
44
The etymology of ga-še/se12(SIG7)-a is still unclear. Because the se12 variant does not end
in -g, the term cannot be linked to si12-g “green, yellow” (on the reading of SIG7 see Molina
/ Such-Gutiérrez (2004: 4–5), Attinger (2020) and Attinger (2021: 1044 fn. 3294).
45
When not processed into other dairy products, sour milk was intended for various pur-
poses, including being delivered to the palace and for performing various rituals (e.g.,
“rites” šiškur2, “bathing, washing” a tu5-a), for the kitchen and to bake sourdough bread
(babir2), for the manufacture of scented oils (e.g., JCS 14 112 17: PD; BPOA 6 1527, BCT
2 195: Um; MVN 07 199: Gi).
46
E.g., BCT 2 195 and UTI 6 3627 (Umma).
47
BPOA 6 0459 (Umma).
48
Santag 6 041 r. ii 25 (Umma).
49
According to Rosenstock et al. (2021: 259), the manufacture of butter by churning the
separated cream is possible only with cow milk; all other kinds of milk require churning
from fermented whole milk. Moreover, in traditional butter making from soured whole
milk, the fat losses to the buttermilk are higher in hot weather; therefore, higher yields of
butter are obtained in cold weather (Aneja et al., 1990b: § 6.1.7).
“Ferment to Be” 105
rapidly than sweet milk owing to the lower viscosity of its serum (Aneja et al.,
1990b: § 6.1.7). The residual liquid left is buttermilk (Vaclavik / Christian, 2014:
248–251; Velisek, 2013: 119).
Cream (gara2) is well attested in the administrative texts from the Presargonic
period as a delicacy for the deities, less in the later Sargonic and Ur III periods
(see § 3.4). Instead, the Sumerian terms regarding the proper production of butter,
i.e., “to churn” (dun5),50 the churn (dugšakir3)51 as a vessel and “buttermilk”52 as
residue, are rarely attested in the administrative sources,53 but almost only in lit-
erary and lexical ones.54 As already mentioned, this is probably due to the lack of
interest in manufacturing procedures or by-products from the point of view of the
central administration.
50
Attinger, 2021: 312.
51
Attinger, 2021: 967.
52
Attinger, 2021: 551.
53
(Sour) buttermilk ((ga) i/i3-ti-ir-da) is twice attested in administrative texts from Ur III
Ur (UET 3 1219 and UET 9 0825). The churn for butter is indirectly attested only once in
Presargonic Ĝirsu: dug ga šakir3 duru5 “jar of fresh buttermilk”, literally “churn-milk” (DP
59 xvii 12; personal communication of Walther Sallaberger).
54
See Jacobsen (1983) for the study of an Old Babylonian Dumuzi lament and particularly
the passage o. iii 13 – iv 4 of the main source A (Source A = VS 10 123; B = VS, 2 30 RS;
C = N 100; D = CT 58 8); sources B, C, D are syllabic duplicates of the main source A
according to Civil (1994: 108 fn. 131) (personal communication of Pascal Attinger). See
also the Old Babylonian royal hymn Išbi-Erra E ll. 29–31 in the study of Reisman, 1976.
Both these passages deal with dairy processing.
106 Paola Paoletti
cheese in north-eastern Persia are produced without heating by putting the butter-
milk into a skin and allowing the curds to precipitate (Balland, 1992). According
to Rosenstock et al. (2021: 261), the shelf life of sour milk dried cheese signifi-
cantly increases if made from fat-reduced by-products of butter production.
55
This paragraph analyses in more detail the data collected and discussed by Paoletti,
2022l: §3.
56
See the recent treatment by Paoletti, 2022h; 2022i.
57
See the references given above in § 4.2 Stage 2.1.
“Ferment to Be” 107
tification of i3-nun with “butter” (Deimel, 1926: 10 and pace the hitherto com-
monly accepted interpretation as “ghee” or as “clarified butter”; Englund, 1995b;
Stol, 1993; 1993–1997; Butz, 1973–1974: 37ff followed by Foster, 1982: 166 fn.
70).
58
For the use of dung as fuel in Mesopotamia and neighbouring regions, see in particular
McCorriton, 2002: 490 and Matthews, 2010: 106. See also Samuel, 1989: 276 for an ex-
periment of dung-fuelled fires in Egypt with local village-made dung cake fuel obtaining
a maximum of 640 degrees C in 12 minutes, falling to 240 degrees C after 25 minutes and
100 degrees C after 46 minutes. For the various uses of dung and its prints in the archaeo-
logical evidence, see Smith et al., 2018; Laugier et al., 2021: 13; Stein, 2022: 5.
59
Pace Jauß, 2018: 188–190; Jauß (2017: 30–32) that assumes ghee cooking in strap-
handled jars on open fires for the Uruk period. For a more detailed discussion on this
matter, see Paoletti, 2022l.
108 Paola Paoletti
ter and ghee, nigour kibe, lit. meaning “melted butter” is made in southern and
eastern Africa, using only mild heat (about 40°C). This product contains about
10% moisture and can be kept at average room temperature for about six months
without developing noticeable rancidity (Aneja et al., 1990b: § 6 and Table 19).
Nevertheless, the administrative sources would not document this process either.
60
Despite the suggested literal interpretation of Englund (1995b: 381 fn. 10) “milled milk
(product)” and the reference of Stol (1993: 105) to a study by E.R. Ellison that interprets
the element ara3 as “milled”: “thinking of the sun-dried curd-cheese being grated into a
powder before use”. Indeed, there is no attestation of explicitly milled cheese, not even
when used in the preparation of food (Brunke, 2011: 208) (note that Brunke, 2011: 133
assumed that cheese for the preparation of the inda3-gug2-bread had to be triturated or
rasped). In this respect, the small cheese clots resulting from natural coagulation – as
illustrated in this paragraph – could have been used for baking bread. See also Attinger,
2021: 178; 368–369.
61
Compare it to a-ša3 murub4 “medium quality fields” in Umma, treated by Paoletti, 2022a:
§ 2.1.
62
Indeed, acid curd cheeses are produced from acid curd quark, and quark is manufactured
from acid-coagulated milk with or without the addition of rennet. The cold fermentation
occurs at a temperature of 21–27°C for 15–18 hours. After cutting and stirring, the curd
sinks to the bottom and the whey is removed. The subsequent maturation first occurs at
temperatures between 22°C and 24°C for 48–72 hours, then between 16°C and 19°C; see
Hartmann et al., 2018: 436–437 and Bintsis / Papademas, 2018: 131–132.
“Ferment to Be” 109
were the principal suppliers of dead and slaughtered animals for the provincial
administration of Umma (Stępień, 1996: 199), there is no evidence that they also
dealt with parts of the slaughtered animals and/or meat itself (Stępień, 1996: 97).
Instead, according to Stępień (1996: 199), there was a so-called “meat distribution
agency” to which herders delivered the entire dead or slaughtered animals. This
confirms that herders may have occasionally had access to parts of slaughtered
animals but not on a regular basis. Therefore, the stomachs of young animals were
not constantly available to them to use regularly as rennet for cheese making, even
if they only needed a tiny part of it to enhance the coagulation process.63 There is
no evidence that herders used fuel, a very scarce and expensive source, and the
specific tools required to heat the curds.
The Sumerian administrative texts sometimes specify that “sour milk cheese”
could be “small”64 or “big”,65 but they keep measuring it according to the capacity,
sometimes indicating the vessel it is filled into.66 They never count cheese in
pieces, at least from the Fārā period onwards.67 Therefore, this specification can
refer to a detail on its form. And in particular, it could refer to the size of the
cheese clots obtained after curdling,68 i.e., “small” or “big” “cheese(-clots)”. In
this regard, we know from the sesame oil milling that a “sieve for barley flour”
(gema-an-sim dabin)69 must have had a very narrow mesh and was likely used to
separate sesame seeds from fine impurities like earth. The “sieve for groats”
(gema-an-sim niĝ2-ar3-ra)70 allowed, instead, the removal of larger impurities, like
residues of leaves and stalks. Indeed, a sieve occurs once for cheese, flour, and
other products (BPOA 2 2530). It could have served among others for their pro-
cessing and, regarding cheese, possibly also to separate the cheese clots from the
whey. There isn’t so far any explicit evidence in the Sumerian administrative
sources about putting cheeses on a stick or lying down, possibly to dry, as
suggested by some Old Babylonian literary sources.71 “Sour milk cheese” could
63
Moreover, according to the hitherto available investigation methods, rennet cheese can
be documented only from the Late Bronze Age onwards (Rosenstock et al., 2021: 269).
64
ga-ara3 tur, e.g., TRU 382; ASJ 03, p. 154 no. 111.
65
ga’ar gal-gal, e.g., DP 051; ga-ara3 gal, e.g., TRU 382.
66
Englund, 1995b: 381 and fn. 10.
67
Only in the archaic period cheese was counted in “discrete units”, according to Englund,
1995a: 40 and fn. 34.
68
See also the argumentation of Stol (1993: 104) against the comparison of “mall” and
“big” cheese with the Jordan kišk cheese because of the measuring unit.
69
E.g., SANTAG 06 41 o. iii 4.
70
SANTAG 06 41 o. iii 5 and passim.
71
See the Dumuzi lament treated by Jacobsen (1983) and, in particular, source A (VS 10
123) o. iii 13–14: “He laid down for her the small cheeses (as) for winnowing – the lad, he
laid down for her the large cheeses for the stick – the lad in the desert” (ga-ara3 tur-tur
bux(SU7)-še mu-na-nu2 ĝuruš-e / ga-ara3 gal-gal ĝidru-še3 mu-na-nu2 ĝuruš-e edin-na).
110 Paola Paoletti
also have gone bad72 or be old.73 “Sour milk cheese” is attested only measured in
capacity and without indication of any vessels, but if so, then mostly in connection
with clay pots (dugutul2),74 sometimes also baskets (gurdub)75 and other specific
vessels.76
The documents of the Ur III period on dairy products also register a particular
variety of cheese written ga(-ara3)-GAZI. The exact difference between ga(-ara3)-
GAZI and the ordinary “sour milk cheese” ga-ara3/murub4 has yet to be determined
beyond doubt. The administrative texts do not offer any detail on the manufactur-
ing of ga(-ara3)-gazi nor offer any more detail regarding its nature. As already
seen for ordinary cheese, ga-ara3 is often abbreviated to ga “milk”, also in the case
of ga-ara3-GAZI.77 In the administrative documents, ga(-ara3)-GAZI is always listed
after butter and/or other fats/oils78 but before ga “milk” and/or ordinary “sour milk
cheese” (ga-ara3/murub4).79 As expected, according to the hierarchical order in
the texts, ga(-ara3)-GAZI was more expensive than ordinary cheese (see § 7.2 be-
low). ga(-ara3)-GAZI could have also “gone bad”80 and could have been of “sec-
ond” quality.81
Three balanced accounts on dairy products register the conversion of ga(-ara3)-
GAZI into ordinary cheese,82 namely 1 litre of ga(-ara3)-GAZI corresponded to 1.5
litres of standard “sour milk cheese” (ga- ara3/murub4). If we were to interpret it
literally as an empirical value for its production, as we already did for the yield of
butter and cheese from fermented milk (§ 4.1 Table 2), then out of 1 litre of
ga(-ara3)-GAZI one would obtain 1.5 litres of ordinary “sour milk cheese”
(ga-ara3/murub4). This is a massive volume increase of 50 %!83 Apart from this
rather unrealistic yield, out of ga(-ara3)-GAZI, one would be producing the
ordinary “sour milk cheese” (ga- ara3/murub4), not the elsewhere yet attested ga-
72
BPOA 1 0678: r. 1 “sour milk cheese gone bad” ga-murub4 al-ḫul-la.
73
Ontario 2 217: o. 1 “old sour milk cheese” ga-murub4 šumun.
74
E.g., AUCT 1 061.
75
E.g., ITT 2 04422 (Sargonic Ĝirsu).
76 dug
gir13/16 (e.g., RTC 214): a vessel attested from the Sargonic to the Ur III period and
often used for dairy products, soda, or wet barley (personal communication of Walther
Sallaberger); niĝ2-du3 (FTP 100; OSP 1 126): a vessel used for both fruits and cheese (per-
sonal communication of Walther Sallaberger).
77
As already suggested by Englund 1995: 417; see, e.g., BIN 3 385 o. 2 vs, e.g., UTI 5
3177 o. 4–5 and passim.
78
E.g., MVN 3 349, 00.00.00.00.
79
E.g., BCT 2 122; BPOA 1 0173; ITT 2 00892.
80
BPOA 1 0678: o. 7 “GAZI-cheese gone bad” ga-GAZI al-ḫul-la
81
UET 3 1021: o. 2’ ga-GAZI us2, Šu.42/AS.06.00.00.
82
MVN 15 108 r. ii 2–3; SET 130 r. ii 29–30, r. iii 6–7 and passim; TCL 5 6040 r. iv 10–
11.
83
Englund, 1995b: 417.
“Ferment to Be” 111
ara3-GAZI (not abbreviated to ga-GAZI). Yet, we have already pointed out that ga-
GAZI represented the abbreviation of ga-ara3-GAZI. Therefore, the conversion is to
be regarded as an equivalence of the particular variety of cheese ga(-ara3)-GAZI
into its corresponding amount in ordinary “sour milk cheese” (ga- ara3/murub4).
And taking into consideration that this equivalence occurs only in balanced
accounts, it served only for the bookkeeping, i.e., for the settlement of the
accounts according to the benchmark product “sour milk cheese”. A comparable
equivalence that only served for the bookkeeping appears in the same balanced
accounts between silver and butter (i3-nun). Since the accounts only convert
ga(-ara3)-GAZI into its equivalent amount in ordinary “sour milk cheese”, it
confirms the identification of ga(-ara3)-GAZI as a variant of cheese and not as any
other dairy product that one could possibly value in butter as well.
Once cleared that ga(-ara3)-GAZI is a variant of “sour milk cheese”, we can try
to narrow down its identification. Given the countless varieties of cheese, some
of them indeed obtained from fermented/sour milk, with herbs or other ingredients
that are still in use in the Middle East, ga(-ara3)-GAZI could be a “sour milk
cheese” with the additional ingredient GAZI, as already assumed in previous stud-
ies. However, despite GAZI being a common seasoning or vegetable and abun-
dantly attested in cuneiform sources,84 it is of hitherto unclear identity.85 GAZI is
often translated as “mustard”86 but also as a kind of “mustard cabbage” (German
“Senfkohl”)87 and recently also as “tamarind”.88 In this regard, an Old Babylonian
forerunner to the thematic lexical list ḪAR-ra ḫubullu Tablet XXIV89 offers a se-
ries of cheese varieties that might resemble the wide cheese varieties still in use
in the present Middle East. The fragmented list is preserved on a prism kept in the
Oriental Institute of Chicago,90 the provenience of which is unknown. The section
on cheese lists varieties such as cheese with arzana-groats, cheese with pulse’s
groats, cheese with groats, cheese with cucumber/pumpkin (qiššû) or cheese with
beet (laptu). Unfortunately, these varieties are not attested in the Sumerian admin-
istrative sources but so far only in the lexical ones.
84
Englund, 1995b: 417–418 and fn. 70–72.
85
Brunke (2011: 170) following Powell (2003: 20) with further literature.
86
E.g., Bottéro,1983: 289.
87
Kienast / Volk, 1995: 221.
88
Choukassizian Eypper, 2019. I thank Shiyanthi Thavapalan for kindly bringing this ar-
ticle to my attention. An in-depth investigation and more precise identification of GAZI
would yet go beyond the scope of this paper, and therefore, it must remain a topic for
future studies.
89
For a more detailed discussion and edition of the lexical list Old Babylonian Urra VI
and the canonical list ḪAR-ra ḫubullu Tablet XXIV concerning dairy products, oils, and
fats, see Paoletti / Sallaberger, 2022.
90
Reiner / Civil, 1974: 161; Forerunner no. 17 (= A 7895B).
112 Paola Paoletti
6. Dairy products from cow’s milk and goat’s milk in Ur III Umma:
a quantitative description95
The following data should give an impression of the quantities of butter (i3-nun)
and “sour milk cheese” (ga-murub4) registered in Umma documents, respectively,
from cows’ and goats’ milk as well as an estimation of the total annual deliveries
of these products to the provincial administration.
91
The sign SIG7 with value se12 is very likely to be interpreted as the verb se12-g “to be/
become green, yellow” (Attinger, 2021: 915–916).
92
Private communication of Walther Sallaberger. See also Attinger, 2021: 422–423, 787.
93
Attinger, 2021: 660.
94
Attinger, 2021: 687.
95
This paragraph expands the data collected and discussed by Paoletti, 2022f: §4.
“Ferment to Be” 113
Umma held a total of ca. 1000 adult cows, they were due to deliver ca. 5,000 litres
of butter and ca. 7,500 litres of “sour milk cheese” per year to the provincial ad-
ministration.96
Although the final administrative subscript is not preserved, we can safely as-
sume the account Nisaba 24 27 (XX.XX.00.00) was a balanced account of shep-
herds and goat herders of various temples in Umma because of what is still pre-
served of its structure (it is very similar to the balanced account Nisaba 06 08).
The temples (partially) preserved on Nisaba 24 27 are the temples of Inana of
Zabalam, Šulgi, Ninurra and Šara. The section of the text documenting the herds
of nam-en-na-goats probably of the Šara temple (r. iv 16’–38’) is almost entirely
preserved and offers the following data: it lists a total of 1,548 nam-en-na-goats
of which 566 were nanny goats (ud5), i.e., ca. 38 %, and were very likely involved
in the primary milk production. The passage registering the delivery quota of dairy
products expected from these 1,548 nam-en-na-goats97 is not entirely preserved,98
96
As we have discussed above in § 3.1, due to the large margin of error in the estimation
of the total milk production per adult cow per year in the third millennium BCE Babylonia,
it is not possible to estimate the total annual production of milk, butter, and cheese in the
province of Umma nor how much excess milk was left to the herders after delivering the
due quotes to the administration.
97
The term nam-en-na cannot refer to a particular breed because it can specify various
types of animals, among them caprines (sheep, e.g., BPOA 1 1733 o. 2; goats, e.g., YOS
04 237 o. ii 16) and bovines (TCL 2 5483), as well as various types of herders (e.g., OrSP
2, p. 56 MM 171 o. i 5’). Moreover, among the “shepherds of the nam-en-na (caprines)”
(sipa nam-en-na-ke4-ne) occur herders of goats and sheep without any specification as well
as herders of ga-za-PI-goats (OrSP 47–49 348). Stępień (1996: 50) interprets nam-en-na as
a “term signifying native sheep” yet cites it also in connection with goats without further
explanation. He also refers to the phrase sipa nam-en-na-ke4-ne as “shepherds of temple
stocks” (Stępień, 1996: 83). Van de Mieroop (1993: 168) suggested that the nam-en-na
may be a group of goats that the herder “agrees to supervise for another owner”. Never-
theless, the documents never specify his name. Moreover, among the herders specified as
nam-en-na occur many herders of the Umma province, who oversaw provincial herds
made of various types of animals. Greco (2021: 4–5, 7) has analysed the management of
herds and grazing land in the province of Ĝirsu documented by a group of balanced ac-
counts and showed that among the provincial herds, there were also herds or parts of them
falling under royal concern yet managed and held by provincial herders. Hence nam-en,
literally meaning “sovereignty”, in Umma could refer to herds or parts of them that per-
tained to the royal sector and to herders that were entrusted with such animals apart from
the provincial livestock but were employed by and accounted to the provincial administra-
tion of Umma. Yet only a comprehensive assessment of the herding management in Umma
with a particular focus on the possible interaction between different sectors or institutions
could confirm or contradict this hypothesis.
98
Lines r. iv 37’–38’. The editors restored the first total (l. 37’) as “sour milk cheese” (ga-
murub4), but this amount is more likely to refer to “butter” (i3-nun) (see the same sequence
in the following section of totals r. vi 12’–14’). The following line (l. 38’) indicates then
114 Paola Paoletti
but the section on the herds of Ur-Dumuzida documents the delivery quota of
dairy products expected from his animals (o. vii 30 – r. i 21). This section registers
34.5 litres of butter and 53.08 litres of “sour milk cheese” expected from 68 nanny
goats.
This results in an annual delivery quota of ca. 0.5 litres of butter and ca. 0.78
litres of “sour milk cheese” per nanny goat. Unfortunately, the sections document-
ing other categories of goat herds or possibly specific breeds, with or without their
delivery of dairy products, are not entirely preserved in the text and do not allow
an assessment of the whole number of registered goats. However, this information
is necessary to estimate the amount of dairy products annually delivered by the
goat herders of Umma to the provincial administration. In this regard, the admin-
istrative sources documenting and monitoring the herds falling under provincial
concern offer valuable information.
6.2 How data on the structure of the caprine herds in Ur III Umma
can help estimate the annual delivery of dairy products to the
provincial administration
To achieve an estimation of the annual delivery of butter and cheese from the goat
herders of Umma, we need to know the total number of goats involved in the
primary milk production in Umma in the Ur III period or the total number of goats
held in the province of Umma, unregarded of their age. Unfortunately, these fig-
ures are either not recorded at all or not entirely preserved in the texts (Stępień,
1996: 24–25; 191–192; 211–212); therefore, we have to estimate them according
to other data offered by the available sources. In particular, the Umma sources
that assess the structure of the caprine herds according to sex and gender enable
us to calculate two significant rates:
a. The average sheep:goat ratio (Stępień, 1996: 25; Redding, 1981: Ch. X
and XI).
b. The average percentage of nanny goats per herd.
Moreover, the Umma sources allow us to estimate either the total number of
caprines or the total number of sheep held by the province. Combining the
sheep:goat ratio and the average percentage of nanny goats per herd with either
of these estimations enables us to calculate how many nanny goats might have
been involved in the primary milk production.
the amount of “sour milk cheese” instead of an amount of wool and can be restored as
follows: [1.1.5] 9 ⅔ ⸢sila3⸣ [ga-murub4]. Unfortunately, no picture is available of this text,
and the passage cannot be collated; hence this restoration remains tentative for now. This
way, we obtain 266.5 litres of butter and likely 419.66 litres of “sour milk cheese”, which
would correspond to a quota of ca. 0.47 litres of butter and 0.74 litres of “sour milk cheese”
per nanny goat per year.
“Ferment to Be” 115
A partial set of data is offered by the list YOS IV 237 (Stępień, 1996: 52) that
registers 956 nam-en-na-goats in the year Šu-Suen 7 in eight temples of Umma,
of which 447 were nanny goats, i.e., ca. 47 % (r. iii 15–18). The herds of ga-za-
PI-goats are documented in this text, too, yet without distinction of age.99 At the
end of the text, the total registers 1,488 goats and 4,378 sheep, with a sheep:goat
ratio of 2.9:1. These herds were supervised by Kas and Uree. According to Stępień
(1996: 50), this text does not register all herds of the Umma province because the
total number of goats (and sheep) is too small. Another balanced account on shep-
herds and goat herders (Nisaba 06 08) assesses goats and sheep of the eight prin-
cipal temples of Umma in the year Ibbi-Suen 3, distinguishing the animals ac-
cording to gender and age. The totals at the end list 828 goats, of which 408, i.e.,
49 %, were nanny goats. The total number of sheep amounted to 1,430 pieces,
resulting in a sheep:goat ratio of 1.7:1 (Nisaba 06 08). Another balanced account
on herds in Umma that distinguishes the livestock according to gender and age
features a similar average of nanny goats: 49 %. Unfortunately, the text is partially
damaged and does not allow calculating the sheep:goat ratio (Nisaba 06 31). In
the year Amar-Suena 4, the balanced account SET 130 (o. vi 5) records a total of
1,449 goats (no distinction of age or gender) and 2,325 sheep under the responsi-
bility of Uree (no distinction of temple affiliation), resulting in a sheep:goat ratio
of 1.6:1. The following table summarises these data.
Table 3: The number of goats and sheep in caprine herds of Ur III Umma according
to selected sources.
Total No. of
Sheep:Goat
Goats’ % of the
Sheep
Goats
Ratio
Date
Text
Average
99
Unlike the nam-en-na-goats, the administrative documents of the province of Umma
rarely differentiate the age or gender of the animals when documenting the herds of or
with ga-za-PI-goats. To my knowledge, this occurs only in AUCT 2 391 and possibly in
AAICAB 1/3 Bod. S 144.
116 Paola Paoletti
Total No. of
Total No. of
Sheep:Goat
Goats’ % of the
Sheep
Goats
Ratio
Date
Text
Average
Herder Specifi- Total no.
cation No.
of Goats
in Stock
Total No. of
Total No. of
Sheep:Goat
Goats’ % of the
Sheep
Goats
Ratio
Date
Text
Average
Herder Specifi- Total no.
cation No.
of Goats
in Stock
Da'amu ga-za-PI? 158 43 39.6 366 679 n.a. n.a. IS.04.0 AAICA
7.00 B 1/3
Urdu-Šara ga-za-PI? 85 39 219
Bod. S
Lunirĝal ga-za-PI? 35 37 94 144
Urur nam-en- 12 46 (with 26 [...] Nisaba
na new 38 (then 24 27
arrivals 47)
then 26)
Uree nam-en- 255 33 779
na n.a. n.a.
Šaraisa 50 37 136?
Ur- 46 48 96
Dumuzida
Š[arakam] 110 37 297
Total 566 37 1548
Temple
of Šara?
Ur-Lisi ud-[...] 298 34 43 877 n.a. n.a. 00.00.0 AUCT
0.00 2 391
ga-za-PI 501 51 988
Stępień (1996: 25–26) compared the sheep:goat ratios of individual herds doc-
umented by various Umma sources. After excluding extreme values, he calculated
an average sheep:goat ratio of 3.6:1. If we instead calculate the average sheep:goat
ratio considering all the data collected by Stępień, then we get a ratio of 3.9:1.
Stępień (1996: 26) himself doubted whether this data is indicative of Umma herds
in general. Indeed, Redding (1981: 148–206; 251) illustrates that the herding strat-
egies followed by the individual herders can vary a lot, even from herd to herd,
from herder to herder, and all these variations are reflected in the sheep:goat ratio.
In this respect, he refers to, e.g., an ethnoarchaeological study of the herd structure
in Hasanabad, a village in western Iran. According to this study, the sheep:goat
ratio is 5:1 if the goal is energy production (protein) and 1.8–4:1 if the goal max-
imises herd security (low mortality). A study of the herd structure by the Yomut
Turkmen in north-eastern Iran also showed that the wide variation in the
sheep:goat ratio and the concentration of values at 1:0 and 0:1 indicate that the
herders sought multiple goals. Eventually, one has to bear in mind that, on the one
hand, these data on herd structure and the possible strategies followed by each
118 Paola Paoletti
herder are particular to each group analysed by the ethnographers, and they are
subject to variations depending on the type of subsistence economy practised in
the region under consideration (Redding, 1981: 253–254).
On the other hand, the sheep:goat ratio calculated according to the available
sources from Umma may vary due to the fluctuating number of goats yearly held
by the herders. And these fluctuating numbers of goats may have resulted from
various conditions, such as, e.g., higher or lower mortality linked to occasional
diseases. Notwithstanding all these margins of error, one can try to follow the
estimation according to the average sheep:goat ratio of 3.6:1 as calculated by
Stępień (1996: 25–26) and keep in mind that the figures obtained may have varied
from year to year. To do so, we need the percentage of nanny goats per goat herd
as documented in the sources that distinguish the age and sex of the animals. Ac-
cording to the sources presented in table 3, it amounted on average to ca. 45 %.
100
These figures are explicitly rounded to the hundreds and not to the units or tens in order
not to give a misleading impression of precision, as they are merely estimations possibly
subjected to significant variations from year to year.
“Ferment to Be” 119
7.1 Price of butter (i3-nun), scented butter (i3-nun du10-ga) and …-butter
(i3-nun ḪA)
The available data point to a significant drop ‒ almost seven times lower ‒ in the
price of standard butter from the middle to the end of the reign of Šulgi, followed
by a quite constant trend from the end of Šulgi’s reign to the reign of Šu-Suen.102
10,3
10 9 9,86 10 9,82
10
8 8 8
6
4
i3-nun
2 du10-
1,49 ga…
0
Date
101
This paragraph expands the data collected and discussed by Paoletti, 2022n.
102
Compare the price of sesame and sesame oil in Paoletti, 2022b.
120 Paola Paoletti
0,5 i3-nun
du10-ga
0,4 0,5
0,3
0,2
0,125 0,125
0,1 0,1 0,1 0,1
0,1 0,1 0,1
0
Date
103
This results from the sum of the silver amounts listed in ll. r. i 1–10, including also the
“weight adjustment” (saĝ-na4-bi) indicated in l. r. i 10 (Waetzoldt, 1972: 30 fn. 252).
122 Paola Paoletti
Date Quantity Price Litres per Price of Text Place Type of Text
(litres) (silver in one giĝ of one litre
giĝ) silver in giĝ of
silver
Šu.48.00.00 2.17 0.22 9.86 0.1 SNAT 302 Umma Balanced account
o. 1–2 on (the activity of)
Dadaga
IS.03.00.00 27.3 3.4 8 0.125 UET 3 1514 Ur Account of the
o. 7–9104 herders of native
sheep and goat
herders in Ur
104
o. 8 reads 27 ⅓ sila3 instead of 27 ⅔ according to the translation in the “Corpus Sume-
rian Glossary” (https://corpus.writing-sumerian.assyriologie.uni-muenchen.de).
“Ferment to Be” 123
Date Quantity Price Litres per Price of Text Place Type of Text
(litres) (silver in one giĝ of one litre
giĝ) silver in giĝ of
silver
IS.03.00.00 5 1.74 8 (2.9) 0.125 (0.3) UET 3 Ur Account of the fat,
1198 o. 1–3; cheese, and sheep
80.67 17.77 8 (4.5) 0.125 (0.2) r. 6’–7’ (wool) arrears of
the goat herders
in Marum in the
territory of Irisaĝrig
[…] 1 0.17 6 0.17 AUCT 1 517 Umma? List of various goods
r. 6–7 with their prices
[…] 11.6 1.84 6.3 0.16 UET 9 0916 Ur Fragment of account
o’. 4–5 with dairy products
Date Quantity Quantity Litres per Price of Text Place Type of Text
(in li- of silver one giĝ of one litre
tres) in giĝ silver in giĝ of
silver
AS.09.00.00 9.65 4.84 2 0.5 BBVO 11 Nippur Balanced account of
257 4N- the Inana temple in
T197 r. iii Nippur
13–14
[…] 1 0.33 3 0.3 AUCT 1 293 Unkn. List of various
o. 4–5 fats/oils with the
indication of their
prices
124 Paola Paoletti
0,4
0,2
0
Šu 44 Šu 48 Šu 48 Šu 48 AS 04 IS 03
(2049) (2045) (2045) (2045) (2041) (2024)
Date
ga-ara3/murub4 ga-GAZI
105
Paoletti, 2022b.
“Ferment to Be” 125
1
0,8
0,6
0,4
0,2
0
Šu 44 Šu 48 Šu 48 Šu 48 AS 04 IS 03
(2049) (2045) (2045) (2045) (2041) (2024)
Date
ga-ara3/murub4 ga-GAZI
Date Cheese Silver Litres per Price of one Text Place Type of Text
Quantity Quantity one še of litre in še of
(in litres) (in še) silver silver
Šu.44.00 150 135 1.1 0.9 BPOA 7 Umma Receipt of
.00 2029 r. various goods
2–3 from Lugal-
izim to Dada-
ga with the
indication of
their price
Šu.48.00 7 7 1 1 SNAT Umma Balanced
.00 302 o. ii account on
10–11 (the activity
of) Dadaga
Šu.48.00 412.5 495 0.8 1.2 TCL 2 Puzriš- Bal. account
.00 5499 r. iii Dagān on PN admin-
4, 6 istrator of GN
AS.04.00 3 3 1 1 VDI Umma List of ex-
.00 137–3, p. penditures of
110–111 various goods
r. 20
126 Paola Paoletti
Date Cheese Silver Litres per Price of one Text Place Type of Text
Quantity Quantity one še of litre in še of
(in litres) (in še) silver silver
AS.09.00 5.5 157.5 0.03 28.6 BBVO Nippur Balanced
.00 11, p. account of the
257 4N- Inana temple
T197 r. in Nippur
iii 21–22
IS.03.00. 41 - 0.8 1.2 UET 3 Ur Account of
00 1514 o. the herders of
10–r. 1 native sheep
and goat
herders in Ur
IS.03.00. 121 - 0.8 1.2 UET 3 Ur Account of
00 1198 o. the fat,
4–5 cheese, and
sheep (wool)
arrears of the
goat herders
in Marum in
the territory
of Irisaĝrig
00.00.00. 0.5 10? 0.05 20 SAT 3 Umma Expenditure
00 2102 o. of various
5–6 goods with
the indication
of their price
[…] 2,089.33 31,750 0.1 15.2 Nisaba Irisaĝrig Fragment of
15/2 an account of
1034 r. iii dairy prod-
3–4 ucts
Date Cheese Silver Litres per Price of one Text Place Type of Text
Quantity Quantity one še of litre in še of
(in litres) (in še) silver silver
Šu.48.00 8 12 0.67 1,5 SNAT Umma Balanced
.00 302 o. i account on
3–4 (the activity
of) Dadaga
“Ferment to Be” 127
106
Paoletti, 2022c.
107
Lard, among other products, as food for the female and male workforce: e.g., AAICAB
1/1, Ashm. 1911–218: o. 3–5 “54 litres of lard, 840 litres of dates: food (for) female and
male workers” 0.0.5 4 sila3 i3-šaḫa2 / 2.4.0 zu2-lum gur / niĝ2-gu7-a geme2 urdu2-da; e.g.,
CUSAS 40–2 0153 o. 1–2 “120[+… litres of] lard, the female weavers ate it” 0.2.0 [... i3-
š]aḫa2 / geme2 u[š]-b[ar]-e / ib2-gu7. See also parallel attestations in MVN 16 1377, Ne-
braska 14 and Princeton 1 319. Instead, some sources clearly distinguish the use of bread
for nutrition (“they ate it” ib2-gu7) and the use of lard for anointing (“they anointed (them-
selves)” ib2-šeš4), e.g., SAT 3 1823 o. 1–r. 1.
108
šeš4/pašāšu “to anoint, to apply on a surface” (Attinger, 2021: 987–988) is explicitly
attested, e.g., with lard (e.g., CUSAS 3 0472), with sesame oil or scented sesame oil (e.g.,
UET 9 0889, UET 3 1688).
109
E.g., MVN 05 226.
110
Brunke, 2011: 165–170 and Sallaberger, 2021.
128 Paola Paoletti
a.111 Sour milk cheese is also documented as a component of the most expensive
variant of a baking mixture called inda3 gug2, which contains dates, dried grapes,
butter and cheese on top.112 PAD saĝ si3-ga was a dessert that seems in some ways
to be a “luxury version” of the NIĜ2-i3-de2-a one: the full recipes include all the
ingredients for the basic NIĜ2-i3-de2-a except flour and in addition many other
fruits and syrup.113 Butter and sometimes fermented milk were ingredients for the
rarely attested bread variety inda3 /ḫa(r)marmašum/ bread114 and other sorts like
the inda3 ne-mur-ra115 bread or the inda3 i3 bread.116
Such sweet dishes were often served at banquets for deities or the king or
during meals organised at the burial place of deceased kings or high officials.117
Dairies, fruit and vegetables would often appear at the royal table118 or
reserved for high-ranking officials,119 as shown by the issue of foodstuffs for the
king or a deity during the reign of Gudea.120 In the Ur III period texts, cheese,
fermented milk and butter, together with other delicacies, belonged, for example,
to the food supplies destined for consumption in the palace.121 These data confirm
how milk fat (butter, cream) and cheese, among other products, played an im-
portant role in the diet of the higher social strata.122 In this regard, the lists of
regular deliveries (sa2-du11)123 to the deities and of deliveries for special offer-
ings124 feature butter and cheese, together with fruits and vegetables and all sorts
of other products, offering an interesting parallel125 to what we know about the
delicacies reserved for the higher social strata.
But now: how did people not belonging to the elites and not being pro-
fessionally engaged in dairy manufacturing cover their needs for fatty substances?
On the one hand, they could access them if they participated in festivals or
111
Brunke, 2011: 203–209.
112
Brunke, 2011: 132–136.
113
Brunke, 2011: 209.
114
Brunke, 2011: 138–139.
115
Brunke, 2011: 143.
116
Brunke, 2011: 139.
117
Brunke, 2011: 213–219.
118
Brunke, 2011: 223–228, e.g. Ist L 07032.
119
Brunke, 2011: 223–228, e.g., Ist L 07030.
120
E. g., ITT 4 7030 or ITT 4 7032 (22nd c. BCE.).
121
Brunke, 2011: 227 and e.g., UET 3 913, Bull. Buffalo SNS 11–2 151 17 and BIN 5
082.
122
Brunke, 2011: 223.
123
E.g., DP 051 (Presargonic); OrSP 47–49 396, BPOA 2 1896 (Ur III).
124
Brunke, 2011: 228.
125
E.g., JNES 63, p. 209 no. 1 (fruits, butter, and cheese as offerings to deities). Cf. also
similar references by literary compositions like Enki and the world order (ECTSL c.1.1.3)
ll. 28–31, according to which the products of sheep- and cow herders, among them in
particular butter and milk, would do honour to the lunch of the gods.
“Ferment to Be” 129
ceremonies during which these special dishes were served.126 On the other hand,
they very likely covered their needs with meat and mainly with fish:127 fish was
abundantly available, it was abundantly distributed to the workforce, and some
fish types were extremely fatty.128 Moreover, we can also assume that they had
access to milk fat (butter, cheese or in whatever form) because, e.g., the sale
documents show that various individuals owned cattle and/or goats for their own
benefit.129
Summing up: cheese and butter were, albeit not being regularly distributed as
allotments or food provisions, primarily produced for consumption as food and
those documented by the archives from the main organizations ultimately ended
up on tables of the higher social strata and reached various professional groups
via various (cultic) celebrations. Nevertheless, butter along with lard and sesame
oil is also often documented by the administrative sources of the third millennium
BCE as a base ingredient to manufacture scented oils for anointing130 and for tech-
nical applications.131
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“Ferment to Be” 135
1. Introduction
The history of food nutrition is a complex topic of research, usually linked strictly
to the textual evidences and mostly centered on the historical periods, from the
Roman Empire to the Middle Ages. The interest for the Mesopotamian kitchen
grew after the discovery and translation of the Yale Tablets, containing the most
ancient written recipes since now discovered, dated to the 2nd millennium BC.1
The study of the textual evidences was recently accompanied by experimental
archaeology, with the tentative to reproduce these ancient Mesopotamian recipes.
However, it must be considered that the ancient written sources, actually very
few, concerning detailed description of dishes preparations, are always related to
an elitarian diet. They are intended to be a guide for whom have to cook for the
palaces, while the popular kitchen is alway transmitted as oral tradition.2 Thus,
the Yale Tablets gave to us just a limited vision of the nutrition of ancient Meso-
potamian population, because they are clearly referred to Sumerian upper classes
*
Perugia University, Department of Humanities. Andrea Polcaro wrote paragraphs 1, 2,
3, 4 and 5.
**
Perugia University, Department of Agricolture. Paolo Braconi wrote paragraphs 1 and
5.
1
Translated by J. Bottéro the Yale Tablets are considered the first written receipts in the
ancient world (Bottéro, 2004).
2
This is true also for the later written sources of Roman Period, particularly regarding the
opera of Apicio (I century BCE). Wrongly interpreted as a mirror of the popular ancient
Roman cousin, it is clearly that he’s lost opera, divided in ten volumes, the “De Res Co-
quinaria”, was directed to the high class of the Roman population, which could afford to
obtain even rare and expensive ingredients (Grocock / Grainger, 2006). Moreover, his
kitchen is voluntarily complex and difficult to realize, with the aim of pleasantly surprising
the guest. In this specific aspect, the Yale Tablets present many similarities with the much
later Apicio’s work.
138 Andrea Polcaro / Paolo Braconi
and can not be directly a mirror of what usually people eat in Southern Mesopo-
tamia.
To have a complete vision of the nutrition in Mesopotamia is necessary to look
more carefully to the archaeological context, which can give to us more infor-
mation than expected, if approached with a wide multidisciplinary methodology.
In particular, the analysis of botanical samples have to be extended to any vegetal
charcoal recovered inside a oven, not only to the seeds or to other macroscopical
organic remains collected inside or around a cooking installation during excava-
tions. Moreover, the cooperation of an archaeo-zoologist to study the animal
bones remains and, in a second instance, also of a biologist and a geneticist to
analyze the ancient DNA of plants and animals, is nowadays very important to
have a wider range of interpretations about the reconstruction of the food tradi-
tions of an ancient population. In this regards, the restart of the excavations in
Southern Iraq can give in the next future more data from Mesopotamian archaeo-
logical sites attesting food production activities, in domestic, as such as in public
contexts.
3
In the framework of the undergoing research carried by the Research Unit of Perugia
University, directed by Andrea Polcaro, in the framework of the National PRIN 2017 Fluid
Crescent, coordinated by Davide Nadali of Rome Sapienza University. The research of the
Unit of Perugia University is centered on the reconstruction of the food production systems
and cooking traditions between the 4th and the 3rd millennium BC along the Fertile Cres-
cent.
4
Nadali / Polcaro, 2020.
5
See Nadali / Polcaro, 2020: 288, tab. 2.
6
See Pizzimenti, 2020: 137–140, figs. 12–13.
7
See Polcaro, 2020: fig. 10, 31.
Reviving Food through Mesopotamian Recipes and Archaeological Data 139
tic Period is also proved by C14 analysis performed on charcoals sampled in the
upper layers of the structure, dating 3017–2882 BCE.8 The Building seems to
have maintained its function through the centuries, mainly connected to the pro-
duction of large quantities of food and beverages, presumably distributed for great
feasts in occasion of religious festivities, as typical in the Mesopotamian tradi-
tion.9
Fig. 1: Overview of the Building A, Tell Zurghul, ancient Nigin, from Southwest.
Building A had a frontal open courtyard, where Phase 2 and 3 have been iden-
tified (Fig. 2). Here several installations have been recovered, all connected to
production of aliments. The food was probably later distributed inside bowls of
different dimensions, mainly recovered piled against the other wall of Building A
or fell from wooden tables or shelters, sometimes discovered with organic remains
inside. In Phase 2, close to the main entrance of Building A, a tannur oven was
discovered (Fig. 3). The tannur (T. 109), of circular shape (50 cm of diameter)
8
SG/17 T.419; Lab. Code Fi 3812 (years AD - 1σ: 3017–2882BC) (years AD - 2σ: 3104–
2851BC). The C14 analysis was performed by the “Laboratorio preparazione campioni
per misure isotopiche” of the “Dipartimento di Scienze e Tecnologie Ambientali, Biologi-
che e Farmaceutiche” of the Università della Campania “L. Vanvitelli”, at the facility AMS
of the Laboratory INFN – LABEC (“Laboratorio di tecniche nucleari per l’Ambiente e i
Beni Culturali”) of Florence (Nadali / Polcaro, 2020b).
9
The importance of feasting in the Mesopotamian ideology and economy is well attested
both from visual art since the Uruk Period and from the cuneiform texts since the Early
Dynastic (Bray, 2003; Pollock, 2003; Reynolds, 2008; Romano, 2015).
140 Andrea Polcaro / Paolo Braconi
and preserved only in the lower part, was filled with ash layers. The same ashes
were discovered also in the layers covering the beaten earth floor outside the in-
stallation. Beside the tannur, the footstep of a sort of wooden table was also iden-
tified.
This kind of oven, of cylindrical shape, open on the top, still very common in
the Middle East, is known from the cuneiform texts as the tinūru, mentioned sev-
eral times in the Yale Tablets,10 the most ancient culinary texts discovered in the
ancient Near East, dated to the first half of the 2nd millennium BC. They were
used to prepare the typical flat bread, with direct cooking against the internal walls
of the oven. The tannur could also be used to heat, or cook with indirect cooking,
other kind of aliments inside a pot located on the top of it.11
10
Bottéro, 2004: 47–49.
11
The tannur is a typical kind of clay oven widespread in all the Near East at least from
the Neolithic Period and very common in all the ages till modern time. Deeply studied for
its Southern Levantine attestations (see e.g. London, 2016: 111–117), this kind of oven is
also largely quoted in Syrian and Mesopotamian excavations (see e.g. Rova, 2014). Even
if its shape can be slightly differ in the uppermost part, the tannur have always a slightly
Reviving Food through Mesopotamian Recipes and Archaeological Data 141
These portable stoves are quotes in the Mesopotamian cuneiform sources: they
could made of pottery or metals, like the kinunu,12 a sort of cylindrical brazier,
able to sustain a large vessel on the top. Another metal example is the copper
cauldron ruqqu,13 mentioned in the Yale Tables of the 2nd Millennium BC. This
is perhaps the same represented on the Ishtar’s Obelisk of Tell Mardikh / Ebla.14
conical form about one meter high and 40–50 cm wide (Mulder-Heymans, 2002). It’s cir-
cular base and vertical side are usually the only remains identified in the archaeological
layers during excavations.
12
Bottéro, 2004: 47.
13
Bottéro, 2004: 51.
14
Matthiae, 2011: 742, fig. 6.
142 Andrea Polcaro / Paolo Braconi
The monument, dated to the first half of the 2nd millennium BC, has a scene of
cooking carved on the upper register, where a large cauldron is clearly identifia-
ble.15
The last installation discovered in the Courtyard was in Phase 3, far from the
main Building A. It is a fire installation, full of ashes inside, made of clay, a tan-
nur-like oven of rectangular shape.16 Also this installation, possibly shorter than
the tannur of Phase 2, was able to sustain large metal or clay vessels on the top.
3. The analysis of the samples and materials from the ovens of Area A
In order to understand what kind of fuel the people of Tell Zurghul used inside
the ovens and stoves discovered in Area A of Tell Zurghul, several samples of
charcoals have been taken inside the installations. Remains of Tamarix, Prunus
and Alnus trees have been identified thanks to the collaboration between Perugia
University with the Federico II University of Naples. These are small woods com-
ing from a marsh landscape and probably they were likely mixed with animal
manure to make the fires. It is also not possible to exclude the use of bitumen as
fuel, at least to start the fire, a material very common in Southern Mesopotamia
and discovered by the Italian Expedition in Tell Zurghul, also in Building A, prob-
ably used to seal the store jars discovered inside the structure.17 We can not ex-
clude also the use of different kind of vegetal materials, like reeds or date palm
15
See Pizzimenti, 2015: 177, fig. 7.
16
See Polcaro, 2020: 31, fig. 9.
17
See Polcaro, 2020: 34, fig. 15.
Reviving Food through Mesopotamian Recipes and Archaeological Data 143
remains, even if this kind of materials were not identified by the botanical analysis
performed on the charcoals samples.
It is important to note that the kind of fuel used to make fire in a food produc-
tion installation effects directly the method of cooking. In fact, the kind of fuel
identified in Tell Zurghul is not able to roast meat through direct cooking on the
fire, first of all because the small woods of the marshlands are not able to produce
large charcoals to cook well the meat, second because the meat absorbs bad smell
and taste of the manure. This is probable the reason why direct cooking is not so
common in Southern Mesopotamia and it is more attested in the Northern areas.
On the contrary, the indirect cooking through water, obtained through the use of
large vessels of pottery or metal, preserves the food to take the smell and taste of
the fuel. Boiling the meat inside closed containers permits to preserve its taste,
and different spices and flavors could be added directly in the water before and
during the cooking.
Finally, looking the pottery discovered in the Late Uruk/Jemdet Nasr phases
of the courtyard of Building A, mostly of the sherds and of the entire vessels iden-
tified during the excavations are related to conical bowls, deep bowls, large cups
and flower pots.18 These open shapes are perfectly suitable to eat humid food with
its liquid, like soups and stews (Fig. 5). Together with these vessels, jugs and jars
to contain and pouring beverages have been also recovered.19 During excavations
of the all phases, both inside and outside Building A, no one sherd pertains to
cooking or kitchen ware has been identified so far. Kitchen ware seems to be not
18
See Pizzimenti, 2020: 120–127, figs. 4–7.
19
See Pizzimenti, 2020: 130–131, fig. 9.
144 Andrea Polcaro / Paolo Braconi
identifiable between the sherds discovered in Building A, even for the paste, in-
clusions or external fire traces.20
Resuming the available data: we have a complete absence of “cooking ware”
or pottery with external fire traces during all the phases from the 4th to the 3rd
millennia BC. On the contrary there is a strong majority of simple ware open ves-
sels, particularly conical cups suitable for semi-liquid food like soups and stews.
The attested fuel for the ovens is not suitable to made charcoals reaching sufficient
heat to roast meat directly on it, especially considering the terrible taste which
meat can take from fuel like manure and bitumen. Later culinary cuneiform texts
of the 2nd millennium BC like the Yale Tablets mention mainly indirect cooking
with water to made soups and stews or a double treatment of the meat first in the
ruqqu cauldron and then in the cooking pot.21 All this information let us advance
the hypothesis that in the external Courtyard of Building A large quantities of
soups and stews were prepared, possibly in copper large vessels,22 placed on the
top of the three so-called fireplaces, probably above circular stands or stoves of
different dimensions, and also above the tannur oven. These meals were possibly
served inside the conical bowls together with flat bread cooked inside the tannur.
The vegetal and animal remains discovered in the archaeological contexts of
Area A, sometimes inside the conical bowls recovered in the external courtyard
are related to legumes, in particular lentils, emmer and barley seeds, discovered
undressed and toasted, and animal bones, ribs fragments, possibly related to
sheep, but to ruined to be surely identified (Fig. 6).23 This let us think to emmer
or legumes soups, lamb stew and other dishes well known in the receipts of the
Yale Tables.24 From other cuneiform texts several kinds of soups are known as
such as the chick-pie soup, the emmer broth, the lentil soup, meat broth or turnip
soup.25 A more general term attesting the indirect cooking of the meat through
20
Pizzimenti, 2020: 107–108, 110–111.
21
Bottéro, 2004: 51.
22
The absence of copper fragments in the archaeological layers that could be related to
cauldrons, like the Akkadian ruqqu, it is not strange due to the typical costume of reuse
the metal materials in antiquity; particularly in the region where copper was less easy to
reach as in Southern Mesopotamia.
23
The first analysis on the botanical samples were performed by Dr. Alessia D’Auria,
Research Fellow at the Department of Humanities, Perugia University. Further analysis on
the same samples are undergoing thanks to a scientific collaboration with Prof. Gaetano di
Pasquale, Department of Agricolture, Naples University “Federico II”. The animal bones
are first recognized by Dr. Rossana Roila and Prof. David Ranucci, Department of Veter-
inary, Perugia University.
24
See in particular the Tablet A (YOS II 25), Bottéro, 2004: 26–29.
25
See Limet, 1987.
Reviving Food through Mesopotamian Recipes and Archaeological Data 145
water is silqum, boiled meat, also common in the Sumerian and Akkadian cunei-
form texts.26
Thus, the role of water in the kitchen of Southern Mesopotamia must has been
very important, considering the receipts of stews, broths and soups of the Yale
Tablet, the attestation of boiling from the figurative art and the landscape of Su-
mer, a marshland water landscape, not able to produce the kind of wood that is
needed for a good roasted meat, surely most common in the northern and eastern
mountainous regions.
Fig. 6: Legumes, barley seeds (left) and sheep ribs (right) identified in the filling layers
of the ovens of Area A.
26
See Limet, 1987: 147.
27
Polcaro, 2020: 22–23.
146 Andrea Polcaro / Paolo Braconi
moved and the food settled inside the pit, then covered by the hot charcoals and
ashes.
The most interesting installation is the I. 409, discovered in the second small
room of the northern wing of Building A (L. 417).28 It consist of a large oval basin,
made of mudbricks and plastered inside (Fig. 8). Beside it, close to the eastern
side, there were a small circular oven and another circular installation to set a pot,
probably a jar. The circular oven connected to the basin was discovered filled with
ashes and the mud bricks of the wall close to it present strong signs of burning.
At the present state of art, without further paleo-botanical analysis, it is not
possible to surely establish the function of the oval basin. However, it could be
advanced the hypothesis that it could be used as a place to work some liquid or
semi-liquid material, which need to be heated. In this regard, the production of
beer, well attested in ancient Sumer and described by the later Hymn of Ninkasi,29
foresees the preparation of a mesh that often could be heated with different kind
of systems.30 For example, these kind of precesses are attested archaeologically at
the end of the 4th Millennium BCE in the Early Dynastic Egypt,31 or in the later
28
Polcaro, 2020: 24–25.
29
Heimpel, 1981.
30
Damerow, 2012.
31
Attested both at Tell el-Farkha (Delta Region, Lower Egypt) and at Abydos (Upper
Egypt), the action of heating is part of the brewing process, aiming to produce a sort of
porridge or gruel-like mass of well cooked grain, which was, together with the uncooked
malt, one of the two main ingredient of the beer (see Adamsky / Rosinska-Balik, 2014).
Reviving Food through Mesopotamian Recipes and Archaeological Data 147
Middle Bronze Age Cyprus,32 where similar heated basin have been discovered
and linked to the production of beer. If this hypothesis is correct, the installation
discovered in Building A could be a system to prepare a mash inside the basin at
controlled temperature, hot enough to help the fermentation but not too strong to
ruin the process. The small installation for the jar could be useful to have handy
water to add to the mesh. This could suggest that at least one of the function of
the inner spaces of Building A was to produce large quantities of a fermented
liquid, possibly beer, to be redistributed to the population of the city in the occa-
sion of the periodical religious festivity.33
5. Conclusions
Finally, in our research concerning the nutrition and food traditions of the ancient
Near East, we performed also some experiments about the reconstruction of an-
cient receipts, like the “Tuh’u beet broth” and the “small birds cake” quoted in the
Yale Tablets (Fig. 9).34 In this case the aim was not to strictly reproduce the reci-
The same costume and brewing technique was recently attested in Upper Egypt at Hier-
ankopolis (Wang / Friedman / Baba, 2021).
32
For Cyprus see the site of Kissonerga-Skalia (Crewe / Hill, 2012).
33
It must also be considered that the beer could be used in the ancient Mesopotamian
cousins as an ingredient (see Bottéro, 2004: 89–93; Reynolds, 2008: 182).
34
The “Tuh’u beet broth” is quoted in Tablet A (YOS II 25), see Bottéro, 2004: 28; the
“little bird cake” is quoted in Tablet B (YOS II 25: 1–49), see Bottéro, 2004: 29–30. The
receipts were studied by the authors and reproduced by the Chef Marino Marini.
148 Andrea Polcaro / Paolo Braconi
pes, because the textual and archaeological data can not give enough information
about the cooking processes and the measures of the ingredients. Thus, the aim
was to propose the Yale Tablets receipts in a reinterpreted way, suitable for the
modern taste. 35
The revival of ancient Mesopotamian receipts does not only have the purpose
to create commercial products, useful for example in the tourism sector. It could
also be seen as a practical experiment, which could provide the archaeologists
with more information concerning the various implications about the use of a
particular cooking technique or a specific ingredient.
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35
This approach to the ancient history of nutrition was already experimented by the Project
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— 2020: “From the 4th to the 3rd Millennium BC: an Assessment on Area A
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Food and Craft Production
at Tulūl al-Baqarat, Mound 7
A Typological and Functional Analysis of Fire
and Work Installations from Building A
Eleonora Quirico*
1. Introduction
The Italian Archaeological Expedition at Tulūl al-Baqarat, sponsored by the Cen-
tro Ricerche Archeologiche e Scavi di Torino (CRAST), the Università degli
Studi di Torino and the Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs and International Co-
operation started its first season of work under the direction of Professor C. Lip-
polis in 2013. This archaeological area, located in the district of An-Numaniyah
(Wāsit Governorate), is made up of a series of mounds of different size and chro-
nology, including nine main tells. Except for the main tell, known as TB1, which
is characterised by a longer and more continuous cultural sequence, the other
mounds seem to have been occupied for shorter periods. The analysis of settle-
ment patterns in the area suggests a progressive relocation of settlements from an
early south-eastern location to the north-west.1
*
Università degli Studi di Torino.
1
For an overview of the main results of the Italian activities at Tulūl al-Baqarat, see: Lip-
polis, 2016; 2018; 2020; Lippolis / Di Michele / Quirico, 2016; Lippolis et al., 2019; Lip-
polis / Viano, 2016.
152 Eleonora Quirico
After the first archaeological investigations on TB1, and starting from 2015,
the Italian team focused on the exploration of the south-eastern part of Tulūl al-
Baqarat, where the mounds named TB7 and TB8 are situated. These two tells are
located about 1 km south-east of TB1 and have a roughly circular shape. TB7
presents a central elevation and measures approximately 300 m in diameter (about
8 hectares), while TB8 is flat and has a diameter of about 170–190 m (roughly 4
hectares). It is very likely that the two tells were part of the same settled area in
ancient times; indeed, the pottery and other archaeological materials on the sur-
face of the two mounds, collected during an intensive survey in 2015, are cultur-
ally consistent and refer to the same chronological horizon, the Uruk period.
Following the opening of soundings on the top and the north-western slope of the
central elevation of TB7, a third excavation area named Sounding 3 was inaugu-
rated in the north-western sector of the site (Fig. 1).2 The selection of this area,
which is slightly raised above the surrounding plain, followed the discovery of
square and rectangular baked bricks scattered on its surface, probably as a conse-
2
For the preliminary report on archaeological activities in this sector, see Quirico, 2020.
Food and Craft Production at Tulūl al-Baqarat, Mound 7 153
quence of recent illicit diggings. Some of these bricks, both complete and frag-
mentary, bore neo-Babylonian royal inscriptions.3
2. Building A
The architectural unit exposed in Sounding 3 was named Building A. The external
limits of the building (or buildings) have not been completely identified yet; nev-
ertheless, drone images show distinguishable traces of lateral walls and sub-sur-
face alignments, suggesting the presence of additional structures neighbouring
Building A to the north-west, south-west and south-east.
With the exception of the late reoccupation of the area during the Parthian
period (Fig. 2),4 all the structures and elements of material culture from Building
A pertain to the same cultural horizon, the Early Uruk period.
Before discussing the stratigraphic sequence of Building A, it is necessary to
stress how interpretative difficulties complicate the chronological distinction be-
tween occupational phases in the excavated area. Indeed, the area has suffered
damage as a result of strong erosion phenomena and illicit diggings, which have
disrupted and at times obliterated the archaeological deposit and complicated the
stratigraphical analysis. For these reasons, some data remain difficult to interpret
and may require future reassessments.
3. Occupational phases
Two main phases of occupation and several sub-phases have been recorded in
Building A so far.5
3
For an analysis of the epigraphic material from Tulūl al-Baqarat, see: Devecchi, 2016;
Viano, 2016; 2019.
4
The Parthian occupational phase (phase III) in the area of Sounding 3 represents a spa-
tially limited occupation of this sector of the site, which, however, cannot be simply related
to an occasional presence, given the existence of carefully built work installations. The
first installation is a water drainage system (US16) made of reused Neo-Babylonian baked
bricks, which cut the archaeological deposit relating to earlier phases. The second one is a
large pit (US149) of approximately 1.5 by 1 m, which housed six overturned jars arranged
in two rows; the pit was filled with potsherds, animal bones and abundant organic residues,
suggesting it was used for drainage or waste disposal purposes.
5
It has to be mentioned that structural remains pertaining to the most ancient architectural
sub-phase identified at the site (sub-phase Ia) were exposed and investigated during the
2021 Autumn campaign. Preliminary reconstructions are currently ongoing and a defini-
tive analysis of the stratigraphic and chronological sequences of the building, along with
an in-depth discussion of structures ascribable to sub-phase Ia and sub-phase Ib, will be
published in the final report on the Italian investigations at the site.
154 Eleonora Quirico
They all refer to the same Early Uruk cultural horizon,6 albeit with some signifi-
cant transformations in the layout and function of structures throughout the occu-
pational sequence.
Fig. 2: Plan of Sounding 3, Phase III, with indication of relevant architectural remains
and work installations. Author: Mirko Furlanetto.
6
For the analysis of the pottery from S3 and, more in general, TB7, and for an assessment
of ceramic material from the other mounds investigated by the Italian team, see Bruno,
2020.
Food and Craft Production at Tulūl al-Baqarat, Mound 7 155
Fig. 3: Plan of Sounding 3, Phase II, with indication of relevant architectural remains
and work installations. Author: Mirko Furlanetto.
Phase II, the latest of the Uruk phase, was extensively investigated in the north-
ern and north-western parts of the sounding, where the archaeological deposit is
less affected by erosion and the higher elevation of the ground corresponds to a
better preservation of mudbrick structures (Fig. 3). This phase is characterised by
the presence of numerous installations, particularly connected with fire-related
practices. Production activities carried out over a wide area in the northern part of
S3 resulted in the accumulation of thick, overlapping layers of ash and organic
material. This uninterrupted stratigraphic sequence, which is also reflected in the
superimposition of work installations, suggests different, albeit functionally
homogeneous sub-phases of use in the area (IIa, IIb and IIc).
156 Eleonora Quirico
Fig. 4: Plan of Sounding 3, Phase Ib, with indication of relevant architectural remains
and work installations. Author: Mirko Furlanetto.
Food and Craft Production at Tulūl al-Baqarat, Mound 7 157
The most ancient sub-phases of Building A, referred to as Ia and Ib, are divided
by thin deposit layers (Figs. 4–5). Despite a substantial transformation in the in-
ternal layout of the building, the apparent uniformity in the residential and domes-
tic function of spaces seems to justify their identification as two sub-phases within
a continuous occupational episode (phase I), rather than two separate phases of
occupation.7
7
The distinction between phases is mainly based on changes in the functions and use of
the investigated area, while the reorganisation of spaces and the magnitude of structural
158 Eleonora Quirico
4. Work installations
A brief overview of some of the most meaningful work installations excavated in
Building A is provided here. Installations associated with occupational activities
represent an irreplaceable tool for a better understanding of the specific function
of spaces and of the types of tasks carried out during each phase of occupation.
The archaeological investigations in the area of Building A exposed open
spaces, hallways, large central rooms and smaller peripheral rooms. Open spaces
are consistently characterised by the presence of several craft installations and
abundant deposits of accumulated materials resulting from extensive production
activities.
The presence of continuous, overlapping layers of light and dark grey ash
mixed with organic material, potsherds and animal bone fragments in the north-
western part of S3 suggests particularly intense craft and food production during
phase II, in relation to which at least two sub-phases (IIb and IIc) could be recog-
nised. An elongated clay structure with inner partitions forming narrow compart-
ments (US79) can be attributed to the more recent sub-phase (IIc).8 The construc-
tion technique, the absence of waterproof covering and comparisons with similar
installations9 suggest that the structure was used either for the storage of food-
stuffs or for the drying of cereals. Two ovens placed side by side (US193, located
to the south-west, with a maximum diameter of about 1.5 m and US194, located
to the north-east, with a maximum diameter of about 1.65 m) and a third oven
located in proximity to the other two (US82, with a maximum diameter of about
1.8 m), belong to the earlier sub-phase (IIb). Some ceramic slags were discovered
close to these fire installations and may be indicative of their function as pottery
kilns.
interventions were not taken as sufficient indicators of different phases of occupation when
considered individually. For example, although sub-phase Ib reflects a significant trans-
formation in the layout of Building A compared to sub-phase Ia, both sub-phases are as-
cribable to the same occupational episode based on a complete homogeneity in the func-
tion of spaces. Conversely, phase II can be associated with a marked functional change in
the area, the characteristics of which appear more consistent with spaces allotted to food
and craft production. Therefore, even though this phase belongs to the same cultural hori-
zon as the earlier sub-phases, the different use of spaces supports the identification of a
separate macro-phase. Concerning Parthian levels in Sounding 3, the available archaeo-
logical evidence does not provide sufficient insights into the use of the area (residential
and/or productive); in this case, however, the chronological and cultural distance from
phase II justifies the classification of relevant traces of occupation as a distinct macro-
phase.
8
Unfortunately, the installation was in a poor state of preservation (maximum length pre-
served: 2.5 m; maximum height preserved: 10 cm).
9
For a preliminary comparison, see for example: Forest, 1991: 94–101.
Food and Craft Production at Tulūl al-Baqarat, Mound 7 159
A different and less carefully built type of fire installation, presumably used
for food preparation, was identified at the centre of the northern part of S3 (sub-
phase IIa). These installations include two partially preserved hearths (US67 and
US69) with a diameter of about 1.2–1.5 m, which are separated by some incom-
plete courses of poorly preserved square mudbricks (of about 30×30 cm). It can
be hypothesised that these bricks would have formed a large platform serving as
a support for fire-related activities carried out in this area.
Concerning phase I, and specifically sub-phase Ib, a rather irregular rec-
tangular clay installation with internal compartments of different dimensions
(US45) was found between rooms A1 and A3. This structure, which is pre-
served for a maximum length of 2.2 m and a maximum width of about 0.8 m,
might have been used to store or process cereals or other foodstuffs. Although
dissimilar in layout, the installation can be compared to the previously de-
scribed US79.
An open space pertaining to both sub-phases is located in the eastern part
of S3; this area corresponds with a large and elongated rectangular space
named room A5 in phase Ib, and room A19 in phase Ia. The presence of fire
installations (e.g. hearth US161, located to the north and measuring about 0.65
m in diameter, and oven US56, located to the south-west and measuring about
1 m in diameter) hints at its use as a domestic working space.
Although only few internal passages have been identified, some spaces can be
interpreted as corridors linking the different parts of Building A. Among these,
A8 probably connected room A3 with the core of the building during phase Ib. A
circular ceramic fire installation (US47) located in this passage and apparently
contemporary with the floor of sub-phase Ib must have been used for the perfor-
mance of fire-related household tasks.10 The presence of the installation at the
centre of this passage leading south-west, where it would have hindered internal
circulation, suggests that it was placed in this position after the space lost its link-
ing function.
Another interesting fire installation is represented by an oven (US186) per-
taining to sub-phase Ia. Its internal walls and bottom are entirely coated in vitrified
clay, certainly as a consequence of the high temperatures reached on the inside.
Abundant faunal remains were detected in the upper layers of the fill, while the
lower layers contained numerous ceramic slags. Accordingly, it is possible to hy-
pothesise that an earlier use of this installation as a pottery kiln was followed by
its functional conversion into an oven for food production.
The last sector here presented is located at the north-eastern limit of the sound-
ing. The rooms here identified, named A9, A10 and A12, probably pertain to a
neighbouring domestic building. The structures here investigated include the
10
This sort of ceramic brazier is not completely preserved in its upper part and measures
approximately 0.6 m in diameter.
160 Eleonora Quirico
circular hearth US9 in room A9: the dimensional and morphological charac-
teristics of this installation could be considered the evidence of domestic fire-
related activities performed in this space.
5. Conclusions
The stratigraphic excavations carried out in S3 provided valuable insights into
settlement dynamics within the Tulūl al-Baqarat archaeological area. Through the
analysis of architectural and material remains from the site, it was possible to ex-
plore and reconstruct a residential and productive area in a 4th millennium BCE
settlement. The archaeological data thus obtained are remarkable, as they offer
unprecedented information on settlement dynamics, architecture, domestic tradi-
tions, funerary customs11 and manufacturing techniques in the southern Mesopo-
tamian alluvium during the little-known Early Uruk period.
Excluding the archaeological evidence pertaining to phase III (the Parthian
reoccupation), the structures and materials excavated in S3 reflect a general cul-
tural and chronological homogeneity between phases I (a–b) and II (a–c). The area
seems to undergo a significant functional transformation between these two
phases, with the use of spaces shifting from residential to productive. Neverthe-
less, a complete cessation of the domestic function of the building at the transition
between sub-phase Ib and phase II cannot be confirmed at the moment. Indeed,
except for the northern part of S3, where the upper strata relating to phase II are
well preserved, it is not possible to reconstruct contemporary occupational levels
and relevant structures in the central and southern parts of the sounding owing to
the marked deterioration of the archaeological deposit. Furthermore, excavations
in the northern part of S3 have not yet reached levels ascribable to phase I; there-
fore, the specific use of the area prior to phase II remains to be clarified.
Archaeological data on production activities from S3 are extremely meaning-
ful. Based on what is known so far, tasks connected both with food and craft pro-
duction would have been carried out in the area. The type, features and number of
installations and associated materials suggest that production was partly intended
for consumption and use on a household scale (particularly during phase I), and
partly destined for a broader supply network. Household production can be con-
sidered typical of the economy of small settlements during the Early Uruk period,
with single households functioning almost as self-sufficient economic units.12
Evidence of artisanal production is provided by the presence of ceramic slags
in the proximity of some fire installations, which can thus be related to the firing
of pottery and/or the production of clay sickles.13
11
For a preliminary analysis of the burials excavated in S3, see Ragazzon, 2020.
12
On this topic see for example Pollock / Pope / Coursey, 1996.
13
Clay sickles, in particular, were frequently found on the surface of TB7 and within the
excavated layers. These tools made of fired clay, which became widespread during the
Food and Craft Production at Tulūl al-Baqarat, Mound 7 161
Concerning the spaces where production activities would have taken place, it
has to be noted that most of the installations were identified in open areas, while
their presence inside the rooms of Building A was only occasionally documented.
Overall, the location and the arrangement of the installations is in line with the
traditional features of residential units in Mesopotamian settlements, where open
spaces were extensively used for domestic and craft activities.
This paper provides a brief overview of some of the most significant work
installations discovered in S3. The quantitative assessment of these structures,
along with the analysis of their location, distribution and main features, offered
valuable tools for the reconstruction of the specific functions of spaces, contrib-
uting to a better understanding of occupational episodes and functional shifts
within the excavated area.
Bibliography
Benco, N. L., 1992: “Manufacture and use of clay sickles from the Uruk Mound,
Abu Salabibh, Iraq”. Paléorient 18/1, 119–134.
Bruno, J., 2020: “La ceramica”. In C. Lippolis (ed.): L’area archeologica di Tūlūl
al-Baqarat. Gli scavi della missione italiana. Interim Report (2013–2019). At-
tività e ricerca 1. Sesto Fiorentino, 279–383.
Devecchi, E., 2016: “Epigraphic Finds from Tūlūl al-Baqarat dating in the Neo-
Babylonian Period”. Mesopotamia LI, 135–142.
Forest, J.-D., 1991: “L’Architecture de la phase de ‘Oueili-Obeid 0: Travaux de
1983–1985”. In J.-L. Huot (ed.): ‘Oueili, Travaux de 1985. Mémoire 89. Paris,
17–158.
Lippolis, C., 2016: “Preliminary Report of the Italian Archaeological Expedition
(Maitab) at Tūlūl al-Baqarat (Wāsit Province). Seasons 2013–2016”. Mesopo-
tamia LI, 67–99.
— 2018: “Patterns of Destruction: the Looting of Tūlūl al-Baqarat in the last 20
years”. Sumer LXIV, 49–64.
— 2020: L’area archeologica di Tūlūl al-Baqarat. Gli scavi della missione ita-
liana. Interim Report (2013–2019). Attività e ricerca 1. Sesto Fiorentino.
Lippolis, C. / Di Michele, A. / Quirico, E., 2016: “Preliminary Report of the Italian
Expedition at Tūlūl al-Baqarat (1st Season 2013)”. Sumer LXII, 37–47.
Lippolis, C. / Quirico, E. / Bruno, J. / Ragazzon, G. / Mohammed, H. A. / Kazai,
A. S. / Shetod, S. K. / Taha, H. / Kamil, A., 2019: “Tūlūl al-Baqarat, Mound 7
(TB7). Preliminary Report – Seasons 2015–2018”. Sumer LXV, 133–163.
Ubaid period and remained in use until the early third millennium, were mainly employed
for the harvesting of crops, the clearing of weeds and the cutting of reeds for manufacturing
purposes (Benco, 1992; Moorey, 1999: 165). Accordingly, their abundant presence in and
around S3 may testify to the agricultural nature of the activities carried out in the area.
162 Eleonora Quirico
Lippolis, C. / Viano, M., 2016: “It is indeed a city, it is indeed a city! Who knows
its interior? The Historical and Geographical Setting of Tūlūl al-Baqarat.
Some Preliminary Remarks”. Mesopotamia LI, 143–146.
Moorey, P. R. S., 1999: Ancient Mesopotamian materials and industries. The ar-
chaeological evidence. Winona Lake.
Pollock, S. / Pope, M. / Coursey, C., 1996. “Household Production at the Uruk
Mound, Abu Salabikh, Iraq”. American Journal of Archaeology 100, 683–698.
Quirico, E., 2020: “Il Sondaggio S3”. In C. Lippolis (ed.): L’area archeologica
di Tūlūl al-Baqarat. Gli scavi della missione italiana. Interim Report (2013–
2019). Attività e ricerca 1. Sesto Fiorentino, 225–264.
Ragazzon, G., 2020: “Le sepolture”. In C. Lippolis (ed.): L’area archeologica di
Tūlūl al-Baqarat. Gli scavi della missione italiana. Interim Report (2013–
2019). Attività e ricerca 1. Sesto Fiorentino, 269–278.
Viano, M., 2016: “Royal Inscriptions from Tulul al-Baqarat”. Mesopotamia LI,
127–133.
— 2019: “On the Location of Irisaĝrig Once Again”. Journal of Cuneiform Stu-
dies 71, 35–52.
3.
Resource Management
Boire et manger d’après la documentation palatiale
de Nuzi (14ème s. av. J.-C.)
Première partie: les denrées alimentaires
1. Introduction
Le site de Nuzi, fouillé par des missions américaines de 1925 à 1931, a livré une
très riche documentation tant archéologique qu’épigraphique; cette dernière at-
teint peut-être 8000 tablettes et fragments,1 datant surtout de la fin du XVe et du
début du XIVe s. Nuzi était alors une ville du royaume d’Arraphe, soumis au Mit-
tani. Dans la ville haute, outre des quartiers d’habitations et deux temples, le palais
a été fouillé (voir Fig. 1). La présente communication se fonde sur la documenta-
tion archéologique et épigraphique issue de ce palais, où 630 tablettes ont été dé-
couvertes, et sur celle trouvée dans un bâtiment entrepôt dit « Group 36 », au nord
du palais, qui abritait plus de 200 tablettes administratives, proches par leur con-
tenu de celles du palais.
Cet article se limite à la présentation des sources et à un inventaire des produits
alimentaires issus de la flore et de la faune tels qu’ils apparaissent d’après les
données du palais et du « Group 36 ». Stockage, transformation et consommation
feront l’objet d’un autre article.2
2. Les sources
2.1 Les données archéologiques
Le rapport de fouilles de R. F. S. Starr (1937 et 1939) contient deux pages sur les
restes animaux et végétaux qui furent ramenés à Harvard pour y être analysés;3
malheureusement leur lieu de découverte n’est presque jamais indiqué. L’étude
du palais a été reprise tout récemment par H. Mönninghoff, qui a localisé avec
une grande précision tout le matériel découvert grâce au journal de fouille et aux
1
Estimation de Maidman, 2020: 10.
2
Traiter l’ensemble aurait largement dépassé les limites imparties pour la publication des
Rencontres. Nous remercions les organisateurs de la RAI de Turin qui nous ont permis de
retenir cette solution.
3
Starr, 1939: 429–494.
166 Philippe Abrahami / Brigitte Lion
Fig. 1: Plan du palais de Nuzi, Mayer 1978, Anhang IV.3, d’après Starr, 1937:
Plan No. 13, archives conservées à Harvard.4
4
Mönninghoff, 2020.
Boire et manger d’après la documentation palatiale de Nuzi 167
3. Les céréales
3.1 Les données archéobotaniques
D’après le rapport de fouilles, parmi les restes de végétaux carbonisés découverts
en grandes quantités à la fois dans le palais et dans les maisons, l’orge prédomine;
elle est parfois difficile à distinguer du blé mais, lorsque l’identification est pos-
sible, il s’agit d’orge.6 Plusieurs pièces du palais, L22, L44, R50 et R127, ont livré
des céréales.7 La pièce L22 contenait aussi de petits pains ronds et plats.8
5
Les pièces du palais d’où proviennent les tablettes sont indiquées entre parenthèses après
la référence au texte. L’absence de cette indication concerne des tablettes rattachées par
leur contenu à la documentation du palais mais dont la provenance exacte n’est pas connue.
Voir à ce sujet le catalogue de Mayer, 1978: 84–99 et Abrahami / Lion, 2012.
6
Starr, 1939: 493–494.
7
D’après les données synthétisées par Mönninghoff, 2020: 207, Abb. 170, ainsi que 246.
8
Starr, 1939: 148; Starr, 1937: 33F; ces pains ont environ 6 cm de diamètre.
9
Fincke, 2000: 158–159.
10
La prédominance de l’orge est aussi reflétée dans les comptes relatifs aux récoltes et aux
semences de l’archive de Šilwa-Teššub: le blé amidonnier y représente environ ¼ des
quantités d’orge enregistrées et le blé seulement 1/6, voire 1/10. Voir en particulier les
tableaux de synthèse dans Wilhelm, 1985: 191, 194, 199 et 202.
168 Philippe Abrahami / Brigitte Lion
décompte final par le terme akkadien uṭ-ṭe4-ti4.11 Le terme hourrite kade corres-
pondant à l’orge est probablement attesté dans le texte HSS 14 123 (D6): 18 et
21, un document qui enregistre la production et les rendements en orge de champs
de différentes localités.12
La qualité de l’orge est définie par les adjectifs damqu, « bonne », ou šinahilu,
« de deuxième qualité » (HSS 14 145 et HSS 16 189, D21). Il est aussi fait men-
tion d’orge « ancienne » (labēru)13 et « nouvelle » (eššu/i; eššēti/tu).14
ŠE détermine parfois un terme qui doit désigner certaines variétés d’orge qui
ne sont pas aisément identifiables. Deux types d’orge par exemple ne sont attestés
qu’à Nuzi:
– ŠE kalburhe:15 elle est relativement peu mentionnée aussi bien dans les textes
du palais que dans les autres lots d’archives, néanmoins cette orge est produite
et consommée en grande quantité. Dans HSS 14 86 (D3), 70 ANŠE de cette
orge servent de semences en même temps que 43 autres d’orge samminnu (cf.
ci-dessous). Toutes sortes de catégories de personnes en bénéficient indépen-
damment de leur position sociale ou de leur âge: les reines et les jeunes enfants
royaux (HSS 14 119, R76), des soldats (HSS 14 217, D3), du personnel do-
mestique et des chanteurs (HSS 16 31); cette orge sert aussi à l’alimentation
animale, en l’occurrence pour des mules (ANŠE.EDIN.NA) dans HSS 15 273
(D3). On l’utilise aussi comme l’orge « ordinaire » pour la transformer en
farine et réaliser certaines préparations comme l’arsannu (HSS 14 54, D6). Il
ne s’agit donc pas d’une orge rare et elle devrait représenter avec le ŠE (uṭṭatu)
l’un des types d’orge commune cultivées.
– ŠE samminnu:16 on a probablement affaire à une autre variété d’orge comme
le suggère HSS 15 273 (D3) où l’indication samminnu au niveau du total
11
Voir déjà à ce propos, le CAD U: 351 1e) et 357 ainsi que le CAD Š/2: 355a. Le glisse-
ment de /š / => /s/ dans la formule « X quantité, leur orge », ŠE.(MEŠ)-sú-nu, en est pro-
bablement une autre preuve, cf. par exemple HSS 14 535 (R76): 3, rev.: 6 et 11; HSS
14 593 (R76): 20, 23 et passim; HSS 16 357 (R76): 9 et 20; HSS 16 358 (R76): 8.
12
Edition du texte par Zaccagnini, 1975: 185–187 (le texte est aussi mentionné dans Starr,
1939: 533 n. 51). Pour l’identification du terme hourrite kade (écrit ga-a-ti/tu4) dans ce
texte, l. 21, cf. Fahdil, 1983: 10a et le commentaire de Zaccagnini, 1990: 203. Pour le
terme hourrite en général, cf. Richter, 2012: 197.
13
Dans les textes de D3, HSS 16 123, HSS 16 136 et dans l’archive de Šilwa-Teššub HSS
16 28 = AdŠ 100.
14
Dans l’archive de Šilwa-Teššub: HSS 13 395 = AdŠ 102, HSS 16 62 = AdŠ 89 et HSS
16 236 = AdŠ 123.
15
Richter, 2012: 181, kalburḫu.
16
AHw: 1018a sous l’entrée samīnu où sont rassemblées les occurrences paléo-babylo-
niennes associées aux signes classificateurs Ú/SAR et celles de Nuzi précédées de ŠE. Le
CAD S: 116b et 118b fait deux entrées séparées: samīnu « une plante aromatique » et sam-
minnu, « un type d’orge ».
Boire et manger d’après la documentation palatiale de Nuzi 169
reprend des dépenses d’orge ŠE. Cette orge est rarement documentée, mais
comme pour le kalburhe, les quantités produites peuvent être importantes
(HSS 14 86, D3, ci-dessus). Elle peut servir à nourrir des animaux: des mou-
tons dans HSS 15 273, D3 et des chevaux dans HSS 16 124, D3. Cette orge
peut être aussi brassée (HSS 16 124, D3).
Le blé est écrit GIG et parfois phonétiquement, kibātu, dans ce cas toujours au
pluriel. Le texte HSS 14 163 documente un blé GIG.A. Dans la mesure où il ne
s’agit pas d’une variante graphique, on peut, en fonction du sens que l’on attribue
à l’élément A, envisager différentes possibilités. Un « blé d’eau » correspondrait
à du blé šiqū, c’est-à-dire un blé cultivé grâce à l’irrigation. Une lecture DURU5
pourrait caractériser un blé moissonné précocement.17 La consommation de blé
est peu fréquente. Dans les textes du palais, en bénéficient les reines,18 les épouses
secondaires et les jeunes enfants,19 mais il est aussi consommé par des catégories
subalternes (niš bīti et garde taluhlu: HSS 16 32). Dans HSS 16 45 (R56), une
partie des 216 ANŠE de blé prévus pour les rations est attribuée à « 12 vieux »
(puršumu).
Le blé amidonnier est exprimé le plus souvent par l’akkadien kunīšu. Son équi-
valent sumérien ZÍZ.AN.NA est plus rare (voir par exemple HSS 14 153). Le
terme hourrite utte, connu par un vocabulaire quadrilingue de Ras-Shamra, appa-
raît dans des contrats de Nuzi, notamment des prêts antichrétiques (tidennūtu)
dans lesquels sont pris en gage des champs spécifiquement dévolus à sa culture.20
Dans l’ordre d’énumération des textes de comptabilité, l’amidonnier est men-
tionné juste après le blé à quelques exceptions près où il figure avant.21 D’autres
attestations mentionnent son utilisation comme semences.22 L’amidonnier est ce-
pendant surtout documenté avec le blé comme faisant partie de l’allocation-
šukunu attribuée aux reines de Nuzi et d’Al-ilāni.23 Des usages rituels sont égale-
ment indiqués: en offrande à la déesse Ištar (HSS 14 163 et HSS 15 267), pour les
rites funéraires (kipsāti) et la fête (SIZKUR) dans HSS 14 152.
Le millet, duhnu, est assez bien attesté, mais hors de la documentation du pa-
lais, principalement comme moyen de paiement avec l’orge.24 Cependant un pas-
17
Powell, 1984: 64.
18
HSS 13 155, HSS 13 498 (R76) et HSS 14 119 (R76).
19
HSS 13 498 (R76) et HSS 16 69 (R76).
20
Justel, 2019.
21
Voir par exemple HSS 14 163, HSS 15 275. Dans HSS 16 25, par rapport à la séquence
normale, l’ordre est inversé: blé amidonnier, blé, orge.
22
HSS 16 114, HSS 16 134 deux textes de D3 et HSS 14 127 où les semences sont desti-
nées aux champs de la reine à Nuzi.
23
Voir par exemple HSS 14 116; HSS 14 143; HSS 14 144; HSS 14 152; HSS 14 156;
HSS 14 160; HSS 14 161; HSS 14 164 et passim.
24
Voir par exemple dans les textes de la maison de Tehip-Tilla: JEN 98 (T16); JEN 265
170 Philippe Abrahami / Brigitte Lion
33
Quillien, 2021: 224–226, avec la bibliographie antérieure.
34
AHw: 1238a et CAD Š/3: 8b–9a, šimru.
35
AHw: 434a; CAD K: 131b–132.
36
AHw 426a, ki/usibirrītu(m); CAD K: 420b, kisibirrītu et 420b–421a, kisibirru.
37
AHw: 496a, kizibi(j)annu et 1526, zibibiānum; CAD K 477a, kizibiānu, variante de
zibibânu, CAD Z 102b–103a.
38
Le CAD K: 660a, à kušpa’e, renvoie à kušupha (602b), mot hourrite, spécifique à Nuzi,
qui désignerait une préparation à base d’orge car il y a des allocations d’orge ana kušupha.
Cependant la graphie kušpae n’est attestée que dans ce texte, où il ne semble pas s’agir
d’une préparation mais d’un produit brut, mentionné parmi des épices et non des produits
céréaliers. AHw: 516b propose pour kušpae « ein Gericht ? Nuzi. Koriander ku-uš-pa-e »
et sépare le terme de kušupha. Voir Richter, 2012: 231.
39
Quillien, 2021: 331–332, avec la bibliographie antérieure.
40
AHw: 791a propose « Ammi, Zahnstocherdolde »; CAD N/2: 241: « a medicinal plant ».
41
Abrahami, 2014: 295.
42
AHw: 88a et CAD A/2: 515a; le terme n’apparaît qu’à Nuzi.
43
AHw:1018a: « ein Seifenkraut ? »; CAD S: 114b–115, samīdu. Il existe un terme ho-
monyme également employé à Nuzi, AHw: 1018a, sāmidu(m) I: « ein Mehl »; CAD S:
115b–116a, samīdu B, « a type of groats ».
172 Philippe Abrahami / Brigitte Lion
à Nuzi (ci-dessous). La quantité attendue, 1 ANŠE, est plus importante que pour
les autres plantes, au moins le double.
Une troisième livraison, faite par un médecin, concerne des riqqu, plantes aro-
matiques (HSS 14 213 = 539). On y retrouve le fenouil, la coriandre, le cumin, le
carthame, le nīnû et une autre espèce, l’azappuru, dont l’identification au safran
est discutée.44
Cinq billets découverts en D6, HSS 14 69, 70, 73, 90 et 184, mentionnent des
distributions de sahlû; la reine figure parmi les bénéficiaires dans HSS 14 69, des
dames du palais dans HSS 14 69 et 184, et quatre filles du roi dans HSS 14 90. Le
sahlû, en général identifié au cresson ou à des graines de cresson, l’a aussi été à
la cardamome.45 Dans HSS 14 69, la livraison est reçue « à la place de pois
chiches » (kīma hullūru) ou « à la place de lentilles » (kīma kakkû), ce qui ferait
plutôt penser à des légumineuses; ce texte indique donc incidemment que pois
chiches et lentilles étaient consommés.
Les fruits apparaissent très rarement. Parmi les textes du palais, un seul (HSS
14 215, R76) consigne sept livraisons de dattes vertes (uhinnu), de 4 ou 5 SÌLA à
chaque fois, pour des personnes ou des villes, ainsi que quatre livraisons de haluli,
allant de 3 SÌLA à 1 BÁN, à des personnes. Ce terme hourrite, dont c’est la seule
occurrence à Nuzi, est compris par les dictionnaires comme désignant un fruit,46
probablement en raison de la proximité avec les dattes. Selon T. Richter, il pour-
rait s’agir de raisin, car haluli en urartéen désigne le vin.47
5. Les animaux
5.1 Les données archéozoologiques
Dans le rapport de fouille, les restes animaux sont brièvement évoqués, sans don-
nées chiffrées ni indications de provenance.48 Les os de chèvres et de porcs sont
qualifiés de « common », ceux de bovins de « rare », et ceux de chevaux et de
moutons d’« uncommon », ce qui, pour cette dernière espèce, est surprenant. On
trouve aussi de nombreuses coquilles d’œufs d’autruche.
H. Mönninghöff49 a pu préciser la provenance de ce matériel, finalement assez
restreint: le palais dans la plupart des cas. Il s’agit d’ossements non travaillés, qui
peuvent être interprétés comme des restes de cuisine (pièces M94, M90, R98); il
y avait également des os de crânes (M100, R95–R96–R426). Des coquilles d’es-
cargots viennent de L11.
44
AHw: 92a, azabb/ppuru, envisage de rapprocher le terme d’azupīru (p. 93a), safran.
CAD: 530–531a doute cependant de cette identification, car quand des parties de la plante
sont mentionnées, il s’agit des graines.
45
AHw: 1009b–1010a; CAD S: 62–64.
46
AHw: 314; CAD H: 55b.
47
Richter, 2012: 122b, avec la bibliographie antérieure.
48
Starr, 1939: 492–493.
49
Mönninghoff, 2020: 209–210 et Abb. 171.
Boire et manger d’après la documentation palatiale de Nuzi 173
50
1 pè-el lu-ur-mi ⸢ša-al⸣-mu, « un œuf d’autruche complet », est par exemple mentionné
dans HSS 14 247: CG 1 (M79), un inventaire de biens du palais.
51
Starr, 1939: 148, repris dans Mönninghoff, 2020: 366.
52
Starr, 1939: 246–248: il s’agit des pièces D4, D 15, D3–D6. Starr, 1939: 248, note que
les Arabes de la région utilisent les cornes de gazelles pour tasser les fils de trame des
métiers à tisser.
53
HSS 13 189 (M79), HSS 13 312 (L2), HSS 16 278 (L24), HSS 16 283 (L6).
54
HSS 16 279+299 (R50), HSS 16 291 (M61), HSS 16 308 (R76), HSS 16 312 (N120).
55
HSS 14 255 (L2).
56
HSS 16 63: R.7–8 (M61).
57
HSS 15 273: 7 (D3).
58
HSS 16 416 (D3). Sur les porcs à Nuzi, voir Lion, 2009.
59
HSS 16 117 (D3).
60
HSS 13 78 (R76).
61
AASOR 16 1: 45–47 (L2), cf. ci-dessus n. 25.
174 Philippe Abrahami / Brigitte Lion
62
HSS 15 252. La provenance exacte de la tablette n’est pas connue mais Mayer, 1978: 95
la classe parmi celles du palais.
63
Orge: HSS 16 141 (D3), 142 (D3), 167 (D6) et 194 (provenance inconnue); blé amidon-
nier: HSS 16 152 (D6). Ces références sont données par Mayer, 1978: 196 et n. 4 et 5. On
peut ajouter une autre distribution d’orge, HSS 14 48 (D3).
64
HSS 13 58 (R76), HSS 16 403 (D6), également mentionnés par Mayer, 1978: 196.
65
Translittération, traduction, étude: Müller, 1968: 265–291; translittération et traduction:
Jankowska, 1981: 196; commentaires: Zaccagnini, 1988: 90–93. Löhnert, 2015: 341 iden-
tifie ce texte comme « royal decree ». La tablette aurait été découverte sur le tell nord-
ouest, pièce 12, mais cette localisation pose problème: on s’attendrait à ce qu’une tablette
adressée à Tarmi-Tilla provienne de sa maison, soit de la pièce 13 de cette zone, où ont été
trouvées ses archives. La pièce 12 en revanche appartient à la maison voisine, celle des
descendants de Kizzuk. Jankowska, 1981: 196 n. 2 suggère que cette tablette et quelques
autres « were erroneously registered or moved accidentally into other rooms ».
66
Ces catégories n’ont de sens que dans la classification établie par le palais, voir von
Dassow, 2008: 351–356.
Boire et manger d’après la documentation palatiale de Nuzi 175
6. Conclusion
D’après la documentation du palais de Nuzi, les céréales et produits céréaliers
occupaient une place prépondérante dans l’alimentation. Les autres végétaux at-
testés sont surtout des épices et condiments. Il y a là probablement un effet de
sources: les tablettes ne consignent que ce qui pouvait être géré par le palais, donc
transporté, stocké et distribué, ce qui exclut les produits rapidement périssables
comme les légumes et les fruits frais, les laitages ou le poisson; ces derniers sui-
vaient ce que nous appelons aujourd’hui des « circuits courts » et, n’étant pas
stockés au palais, ils n’y ont pas non plus laissé de traces archéologiques. La
viande semble avoir tenu une place non négligeable, mais sans qu’il soit possible
de déterminer sa part exacte dans la diète, ni si certains produits étaient plus prisés
que d’autres, ou consommés par l’élite plutôt que par l’ensemble de la population
palatiale.
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Feeding māt Aššur
Barley Supplies as a Means of Governance
in the Western Middle Assyrian State
This paper deals with the coordination of a regional network, that ensured the
supply of barley, troops, and plough oxen in the Western part of the Middle As-
syrian Empire during the second half of the 13th century BCE. We examine a dos-
sier of cuneiform texts from Middle Assyrian Dūr-Katlimmu (modern Tell Sheikh
Hamad)1 that documents the operation mode of the palatial network in the western
*
Freie Universität Berlin, Department of History and Cultural Studies.
This contribution was realized within the framework of the Centre for Advanced Study in
the Humanities FOR 2615: Rethinking Oriental Despotism – Strategies of Governance
and Modes of Participation in the Ancient Near East, generously funded by the German
Research Foundation.
1
In addition to the abbreviations commonly used in the subject, we use the following short
references in this paper:
(1) The texts from the excavations at Tell Sheikh Hamad (ancient Dūr-Katlimmu) are
published in the series Berichte der Ausgrabungen Tall Šēḫ Ḥamad (= BATSH). BATSH
4 refers to Cancik-Kirschbaum, E. (1996): Die mittelassyrischen Briefe aus Tall Šēḫ
Ḥamad / Dūr-Katlimmu, 1994, Berlin. BATSH 9 refers to Röllig, W. (2008): Land- und
Viehwirtschaft am Unteren Ḫābūr in mittelassyrischer Zeit, Wiesbaden. BATSH 10 refers
to a forthcoming volume by Eva Cancik-Kirschbaum that assembles amongst others a
number of legal documents. BATSH 18 refers to Salah, S. (2014): Die mittelassyrischen
Personen- und Rationenlisten aus Tall Šēḫ Ḥamad / Dūr-Katlimmu. Wiesbaden.
(2) In the absence of a genuine list of eponyms, the linear order of eponymates is still
reconstructed using deductive methods. This sequence is not yet stable in detail. For a
reconstruction as based on texts from Tall Šēḫ Ḥamad see Salah BATSH 18, XLVII–
XLVII and the useful discussion in Freydank, 1991; 2016b: 7–14. However, our recon-
struction of the sequence differs in detail (see Cancik-Kirschbaum, BATSH 10 and Can-
cik-Kirschbaum, in preparation_b as well as Dornauer, in preparation_a). We therefore
always provide the name of the eponym, as far as it is preserved in the respective text. In
brackets we indicate what we consider to be the corresponding year of the reigning Assyr-
ian monarch – as far as we can judge for now. These conventionalized dates are approx-
imations in many ways. Apart from the correct assignation of the eponymate, they neglect
the effects that a purely lunar calendar would have on the conversion of reigning years (cf.
178 Eva Cancik-Kirschbaum / Aron Dornauer
Ǧazīra (Fig. 2). At the centre of the events is the ancient city of Šalūša, somewhere
in the region of the Upper Balikh river valley. The article not only provides an
insight into the operations of the regional administrative level of the Middle As-
syrian state. It shows how even the fact-based documentation of the state admin-
istration – albeit on a modest scale – occasionally sheds light on the larger his-
torical event horizon. We show how the Middle Assyrian state strategically used
its grain resources to bolster north-western Ḫanigalbat, which was threatened
again and again by riots, crop failures and hostile invasions.
(1) As an introduction we will shortly describe the role of Dūr-Katlimmu in
the system of provincial districts under Tukulti-Ninurta I. (2) As the agro-eco-
nomic parameters determine to a large extent the options for action of the Middle
Assyrian state, we will then sketch the management of the barley-yields at Dūr-
Katlimmu. (3) In a third step we will describe the situation of the city of Šalūša
round the middle of the reign of Tukulti-Ninurta I as seen from Dūr-Katlimmu
and as reflected in a historical statement from a text from Kār-Tukultī-Ninurta.
Finally, we will summarize the consequences for our understanding of the Middle
Assyrian provincial system.
recently Jeffers, 2017). The letter S refers to Shalmaneser I (1263–1234 BCE) and T to
Tukulti-Ninurta I (1233–1197 BCE). S3 therefore corresponds to the third year of the reign
of Shalmaneser I, i.e., the year 1260 BCE.
2
For a recent summary see Kühne, 2021b: 17–18. Information on the archeological record
for “Schriftfunde” is provided by Rohde, 2021.
3
For some preliminary considerations regarding the archival systematics of the Middle
Assyrian administrative records from Dūr-Katlimmu, see Cancik-Kirschbaum, 2021b.
Feeding māt Aššur 179
4
See Kühne, 2021a: 280–287.
5
See BATSH 4: 19–31.
6
Forrer, 1920.
7
With the increasing availability of original Middle Assyrian documents, a whole series
of studies on various aspects related to the subject has appeared, cf. e.g. Machinist, 1982;
Postgate, 1985; Radner, 2008; Rosa, 2010; Llop, 2011 (with a detailed history of research
on pp. 1–2), Llop, 2012, Cancik-Kirschbaum, 2014.
8
E.g., Postgate, 2011 argues that the Middle Assyrian state was the successor of that of
Mitanni, from which it took over the provincial structure. In contrast, Düring, 2015 em-
phasizes that the Middle Assyrian hegemonic practices are completely different from those
of Mittani.
9
Liverani, 1988; recently Kühne, 2010: 118. See the critical response in Postgate, 1992.
10
Freydank, 2009.
180 Eva Cancik-Kirschbaum / Aron Dornauer
Tigris. Thus another raison d’être for the provincial system came into view,
namely: to ensure the agricultural sustenance and thus the well-faring of māt
Aššur, the “land of Aššur”. Besides the Eastern Tigris, other important centres of
agricultural production such as the Khabur-Triangle, the Upper Tigris and the Up-
per Balikh valley come into mind.11 However, it has been argued that the over-
land-trade of grain was too expensive as to have constituted a relevant strategic
element. Thus, for instance M. Liverani stated in 1992 with regard to the tributes
paid to the Neo Assyrian King Ashurnasirpal II (883–859 BCE) after his con-
quests: “Cereals and other agricultural products are not the object of tributary
withdrawal, since their long-distance transportation would be too expensive”.12
Does this also apply to the situation within Assyria in Middle Assyrian times?
Under what circumstances does a primarily locally oriented agricultural produc-
tion become a central force for power? Some sources from the middle Assyrian
palatial economy attest to the fact that at least in case of need the transport of large
quantities of barley to distant places was issued by the government. Well-known
examples are the shipment of barley from Ālu-ša-Sîn-rabî to Kār-Tukultī-Ni-
nurta13 and the shipment of barley from Tille on the Upper Tigris to Aššur.14 An-
other example is – interestingly enough – supplied by the texts from Dūr-Kat-
limmu.
11
Radner, 2004; Wiggermann, 2000.
12
Liverani, 1992: 158; see also Dahlheim, 2003: 214, with references to the situation in
the Roman Empire.
13
Llop, 2010 referring to tablets from Kār-Tukultī-Ninurta (MARV 1,1; MARV 4,27;
MARV 4,30; MARV 4,50; MARV 4,143; MARV 8,4; MARV 8,51) dealing with the dis-
tribution of barley from Ālu-ša-Sîn-rabî (see also the critique in Freydank, 2011: 359–365,
regarding J. Llop’s historical-chronological conclusions).
14
See the comments in Freydank, 2001: 17 on MARV 4,39 = VAT 18069.
15
See for instance Reculeau, 2011: 15. passim.
16
Ergenzinger / Kühne, 1991.
17
See E. Cancik-Kirschbaum, BATSH 4: 134–135. on this subject with references to
BATSH 4, 8: 32f. and BATSH 4, 17: 10–12. It cannot be ruled out that this hydraulic
structure, or at least parts of it, is significantly older, Kühne, 2016.
Feeding māt Aššur 181
18
Kühne, 2021a: 303.
19
A few indications might suffice here: A simulation of Neo-Assyrian yields calculates
557–1,080 kg/ha for Neo-Assyrian rainfed agriculture and 1,137–1,416 kg/ha for irrigated
agriculture (Altaweel 2008). C. Zaccagnini on the other hand, assumes just 200–600 l/ha
≈ 140–420 kg/ha for Neo-Assyrian rainfed agriculture (Zaccagnini, 1999: 337).
20
Reculeau, 2011: 188–190; but cf. the significantly lower figures in Kühne, 2021a: 302
table 12.02.
21
The crop reports (German „Ernte-Rapporte“) have been published by W. Röllig as
BATSH 9 (see above footnote 1).
22
Reculeau, 2011.
23
Reculeau, 2011: 91.
24
Koliński, 2003: 91.
25
Koliński, 2003: 91.
26
Kühne, 1991: 32 (and see the critique in Postgate, 2018: 265–266) and Kühne, 2021b
182 Eva Cancik-Kirschbaum / Aron Dornauer
calculate a maximum of 900 permanent inhabitants for the Middle Assyrian town.
This number is based on the following considerations: (1) From the administrative
documents, we can deduce a number of about 40 šiluḫlū, including their families,
young and old, who served as fully dependent labourers in the palace economy.
(2) The local elite, i.e. the various individuals who had civil and/or military duties
either in the palace itself, or in the local administration of the city, and the local
priesthood is unlikely to have numbered more than 40–50 people. (3) The major-
ity of the inhabitants of middle Assyrian Dūr-Katlimmu were the families of peas-
ants (German: “Kleinbauern”). They were organised in 6–8 groups with an aver-
age of 30–40 members (for the greater part male heads of the house), each under
a rab ḫanšê “great of the 50”.27 If we assume an average of 4 up to 7 members
living in such a peasant household, the number of individuals from the peasant
families in Dūr-Katlimmu ranges from 720 to 2,240. (4) Together with the šiluḫlū
and the local elite this would have resulted in a population of 800–2320 individ-
uals living in Dūr-Katlimmu. (5) It has been observed that specialised craftsmen
such as metal workers are missing from the documents found at Tall Sheikh
Hamad. Yet, these should not have made up more than 10% of the population in
a pre-modern society and accordingly, we would have to reckon with numbers
between 880 and 2,552 individuals for ancient Dūr-Katlimmu.28 (6) However, on
account of the comparatively low crop yields in the period under consideration29
and given the fact that the agriculturally productive soil on the first terrace of the
Khabur River is limited, only the lowest value, i.e. 900 individuals as permanent
inhabitants of ancient Dūr-Katlimmu seems to be plausible.30 In addition, it seems
hardly possible to generate a really large surplus – not least because there is a
constraining correlation between labour and cultivated land.
used for example as loans of barley to the local peasants, as temporary provisions
for additional groups of workmen or detachments of ḫurādu-troops, or even to
hand over rīmuttu-gifts on behalf of the king.31 To these we can add a further
application: regional or even transregional emergencies in which Dūr-Katlimmu
functioned as a hub for collecting and redistributing barley reserves from the net-
work of regional palaces, as was the case with the town of Šalūša.
31
Cancik-Kirschbaum, 2021a.
32
See BATSH, 95 (S14, Aššur-nādin-šumē) barley seeds and fodder and BATSH, 96
(S4/S5, Aššur-mušabši) wheat seeds for rab ikkarāte from Dūr-Katlimmu.
33
For example, see BATSH 10, 2 (undated; presumably from the reign of Tukulti-
Ninurta).
184 Eva Cancik-Kirschbaum / Aron Dornauer
2.2 Storage
BATSH 9, 93 was made out on the same day as the crop report BATSH 9, 81,
namely 20.xii. of Adad-bēl-gabbe (T4). BATSH 9, 93 records the entry of 754 Sūt
barley intended for stockpiling into a local store.34 How often the palatial fields
actually produced such a surplus, is difficult to judge since over a period of about
35 years, reliable documentation is extant for just about half of the time. It is
therefore extremely problematic to derive trends from scarce database. However,
two general situations prevail: on the one hand, in some years the crop yield is
just enough to cover the budgeted consumption for the coming year; on the other
hand – at least within the periods documented by texts, around half of the harvests
produce surpluses.
This can be seen, for example, in the protocol BATSH 9, 89 (20.ix. Aššur-
daʾʾān (T12); Fig.1). There, section by section, the amount of 4,380 Sūt barley
stored in the karmu-house35 is listed for a total of 5 individual eponymates: 1,900
Sūt barely from the eponymate of Urad-ilāni; 860 Sūt from the eponymate of
Adad-umaʾi; 310 Sūt from the eponymate of Abattu, son of Adad-šamšī; 470 Sūt
from the eponymate of Abattu, son of Adad-šumu-lēšir, and, finally, 840 Sūt from
the current eponymate of Aššur-daʾʾān. With regard to this last eponymate the
total of 4,380 Sūt of barley accumulated over the last 5 years is indicated in line
13 of the text.
Apart from the year of Adad-umaʾi (T9) where no crop report has been pre-
served, the data from the crop reports regarding the quantities placed in storage
coincide with the data on the quantities registered in the storage places.36 Com-
parison of the numbers given shows, that small quantities of barley from the
eponymate of Urad-ilāni are missing: The crop report BATSH 9, 75: 21–23 states
2,052 Sūt, the inventory BATSH 9, 89 reports 1,900 Sūt.37 But the surpluses from
the following years are still completely preserved in the granary. Despite the ups
and downs of the crop yields: at the beginning of the second decade of the reign
of Tukulti-Ninurta I. the granaries of the local palace of Dūr-Katlimmu were sur-
prisingly well stocked with barley. According to BATSH 9, 91, the same applies
34
Whether the slightly divergent amounts, 754 Sūt vs. 745 Sūt, are due to a scribal lapsus
will have to be checked on the original.
35
BATSH 9, 89: 14–17 gives a very detailed indication of the place where exactly the
barley was heaped up: ina bēt karme ša tarṣi bēt rugbi ša ana erābe ana šumelāni ina
IM.TA.
36
Compare BATSH 9, 89: 1–2 and, 75 (20.xii.T8 (Ui)): 30–31; BATSH 9, 89: 5–7 and,
76 (20.xii.T10 (A1)): 20–21; BATSH 9, 89: 8–10 and, 77 (20.xii.T11 (A2)): 15–16;
BATSH 9, 89: 11–12 and, 78 (20.xii.T12 (Adn)); on details see Cancik-Kirschbaum, in
preparation_a.
37
The rēḫtu from the eponymate of Urad-ilāni was divided between two (or more) storage
facilities.
Feeding māt Aššur 185
to the eponymat of Aššur-zēra-iddina (T17), when 4,600 Sūt of barley are rec-
orded in three granaries of the local palace of Dūr-Katlimmu.
Fig. 1: 4,380 Sūt barley of at least 5 crop years stored in a granary (BATSH 9, 89)
38
For attestations of the name see MTT I/2 p. 130 s.v. Šalūša and MTT II/2 p. 164.
39
See above footnote 1.
186 Eva Cancik-Kirschbaum / Aron Dornauer
BATSH 10, 31, dated to the 12th of Abu-šarrāne in the eponymate of Aššur-
bēl-ilāni (T15), mentions the quantity of 90 Emar of barley that obviously were
sent out to Šalūša:
“90 Emar barley in the ḫiburnu-measure taken from the middle granary.
For food it is given. On the day that Aššur-ketta-lēšir took away the three-
man chariots and the fortress troops, (and) let grain enter Šalūša; with-
drawn and given. Eṭir-Marduk, the district lord (and) Ištu-Adad-gabbu, the
clerk have delivered. On the day when Aššur-ketta-lēšir went to Dūr-Adad.
Month of Abu-šarrāne, 12th day, eponym (is) Aššur-bēl-ilāni.”
On the 7th of Kalmartu in the eponymate of Enlil-nādin-apli (T16), BATSH 10,
51 registers a delivery of 133.7 Emar (approx. 13,000 litres ≈ 8,840 kg) for Šalūša
and an additional 10 Emar (approx. 1,000 litres ≈ 680 kg) for the accompanying
troops – due to the order of Assur-iddin, the sukkallu rabiu “Grand Vizier”. The
relevant lines read as follows:
“10 Emar of barley given for the troops in front of Dūr-Katlimmu who will
go to the town of Šalūša together with Ninu’āju.”
BATSH 10, 47, written three days later on the 10th of Kalmartu, deals with pre-
cisely this delivery.40 The document shows that this large amount of barley –
133.7 Emar – was not provided by Dūr-Katlimmu alone but is composed of 15
different shares. BATSH 10, 47 lists these portions line by line declaring in the
summary in ll. 16–18 reads like a quotation merged from the two entries in
BATSH 10, 51:
The largest shares of the total, 38 and 29 Emar of barley respectively were con-
tributed by Eṭir-Marduk the bēl pāhete, the ‘governor’ of Dūr-Katlimmu and by
Sîn-mudammeq, the turtānu, a high military commander. The smaller shares,
ranging from 0.7 to 9.6 Emar of barley, were supplied by altogether 11 towns.
The localization of some of these toponyms is more or less clear, such as Ḫuzirā-
nu, Ḫarrānu, Niḫrīja in the Upper Balikh valley, Qaṭṭun in the lower Khabur
valley, the capital of the district of Ḫāna elû, or Arazīqu south of Carchemish.
Toponyms such as Buzāja, Ḫumnaḫuṣa, Ḫabajātu or Aja, so far unidentified, are
most likely also to be located in the Upper Balikh valley. And finally, the tablet
names two individuals as donors of barley for Šalūša. The names of these men are
particularly interesting since they are known as rulers of semi-dependent local
dynasties: Tukultī-Mēr, presumably the semi-dependent ruler of the land of Ḫāna
šaplītu with its capital Terqa; and Aššur-ketta-lēšir, the semi-dependent ruler of
the land of Mari with its capital Ṭābete in the Khabur valley.41
If the interpretation of BATSH 10, 47 and BATSH 10, 51 is correct, the barley
was not directly delivered from these places to Šalūša. This is rather surprising,
since most of the settlements must have been significantly closer to Šalūša than
Dūr-Katlimmu. Instead, as the text BATSH 10, 51: 22–24 explicitly states, the
entire amount of barley was provided for by Dūr-Katlimmu and transported under
guard from there to Šalūša:
40
Since the text provided a number of toponyms, some already known, others yet un-
known, the text was published in advance in Röllig, 1997: 283–284.
41
For these two individuals see Cancik-Kirschbaum, in preparation_a.
188 Eva Cancik-Kirschbaum / Aron Dornauer
“(grain) taken from the property of the palace, in the middle karmu-storage
house, at the entrance of the large gatehouse of the terrace-building; handed
out.”
Apparently, Dūr-Katlimmu made some kind of “advance payment” set in mo-
tion by the procedure set down in BATSH 10, 51. The other towns, districts and
local petty-kings listed would therefore have been debtors of Dūr-Katlimmu –
since they would have to repay their shares, as is stated by the accumulative record
of 15 obligations in BATSH 10, 47. The quantity of barley conveyed to Šalūša
corresponds to about one-third of the barley stored in the granaries of Dūr-Kat-
limmu in the eponymy of Aššur-daʾʾān (T12).
The text BATSH 10, 53, dated to the 23rd of Allanātu in the eponymate of
Aššur-zēra-iddina (T17) is a debt note that has been kept in Dūr-Katlimmu. It
states that approximately 140 Emar of barley have been assigned for Šalūša by
the palace of Šadikanni. The barley, in the charge of the grand vizier Assur-iddin,
is incumbent on two men from Qaṭṭun, the capital of the Assyrian district of Ḫāna
elû. Only two days later, on the 25th of Allanātu, BATSH 10, 25 is issued by the
order of the Grand vizier Assur-iddin: the document records 30 Emar of barley
for Šalūša. The barley, in charge of an anonymous chief farmer from Šadikanni,
is owed by Marduk-…-A, a man from Ṭābete. Another four months later, two
more documents deal with supplies for Šalūša. BATSH 10, 103 mentions another
105 Emar of barley for Šalūša; and, most importantly, BATSH 10, 57 records
plough oxen that were sent from Dūr-Katlimmu to Šalūša to till the fields there.
Finally, in the 18. year of Tukulti-Ninurta, one more obligation was issued:
BATSH 10, 70 records on the 7th of Qarrātu in the eponymy of Ina-Aššur-šuma-
aṣbat (T18) approximately 90 Emar of barley for Šalūša, again issued by the pal-
ace of Dūr-Katlimmu. The barley in the charge of the grand vizier Assur-iddin this
time is owed by Aḫu-ṭāb, again a man from Ṭābete.
Repeatedly, over a period of four years, large quantities of barley as well as
plough cattle to support the field work, were brought to Šalūša. This is interesting
in itself since in both the years that immediately preceded the first Šalūša-actions,
the harvest in Dūr-Katlimmu and perhaps also in other parts of the Khabur-region
was not sufficient: According to BATSH 9, 79 (eponymate of Uṣur-namkur-šarri
(T14)) there was no harvest neither in Dūr-Katlimmu nor in Duāra in this year,
nor in the year before. And BATSH 9, 80 tells us that in the year of Aššur-bēl-
ilāni (T15) due to hostile actions the palatial fields in Duāra were not available.
Despite this rather critical local situation, the grand vizier was capable to com-
mand an alliance of local palaces and dependent local kings to supply the Assyrian
actions at Šalūša. The documentation for these transactions was kept in Dūr-Kat-
limmu. Even if the ‘debtors’ and responsible individuals come from other places
such as Ṭābete, Šadikanni or Qaṭṭun, the wording of the texts seems to suggest
that the grain was delivered from Dūr-Katlimmu. However, although mentioned
in some of the documents, it is not the bel pāḫete of Dūr-Katlimmu who oversees
Feeding māt Aššur 189
the entire action, but the sukkallu rabiu “Grand Vizier” Aššur-iddin. He obviously
commands the cooperation of the respective palatial resources and the (probably
all high standing) individuals to contribute. To be accepted as such, the delivery
of the shares in Šalūša is to be proven by a receipt which than has to be presented
to the officials in Dūr-Katlimmu.
T:110: (…) i+na U4-mi LUGAL a-na ḫu-ra-d[i a-na KURḪa-ni-ga]l-bat il-
li-ku-ni ŠE-am ú-še-li-ú-ni URUŠa-⸢lu-ša⸣ ik-šu-du-ni (…)
“(…) the day the king went on campaig[n to the land of Ḫanigal]bat, let
barley go up (there), reached the town of Šalūša (…)”
In his commentary on the relevant section 21 (tablet lines 102–114, envelope lines
101’–112’) H. Freydank proposed a connection between the document DeZ 3281
(now BATSH 10, 47) from Dūr-Katlimmu and the royal actions in Ḫanigalbat.
“Hiernach ist die Möglichkeit zu denken, dass Texte aus Dūr-Katlimmu
unmittelbar oder mittelbar auf Ereignisse Bezug nehmen, die sich in den
Ablauf eines der in MARV 2, 17+ angesprochenen Feldzüge nach Ḫani-
galbat, nämlich des ersten einfügen lassen. DeZ 3281 erklärt zwar nicht die
Zweckbestimmung der Gerste, lässt aber vermuten, dass Ninuʾāju, womög-
lich in militärischer Funktion, für den assyrischen König agiert. Da die
Menge anteilig von 15 Orten bzw. Vertretern aus der Region aufgebracht
wird, scheint man einer außerplanmäßigen Forderung nachzukommen. Im
Vergleich mit den in KTN eingesetzten Gerstenmengen (vgl. T 102 /
H. 101’) geht es dabei um ein relativ mäßiges Quantum. Ohnehin bleibt es
offen, ob gerade diese Gerste für Assyrien bestimmt ist oder etwa einen
aktuellen Bedarf assyrischer Truppen während eines Feldzuges decken
soll.”43
In 2016 Freydank took up the problem of the chronology of the events alluded to
and explicitly mentioned in MARV 2, 17+.44 He came to the following conclu-
sion:
“Das sollte den Vorschlag rechtfertigen, weiterhin mit ‚zwei Feldzügen‘ zu
rechnen, nämlich einem ersten, der mit dem Ziel Gerste zu requirieren, zur
42
Freydank, 2015: esp. 113–119.
43
Freydank, 2015: 115.
44
Freydank, 2016a: 95–108, esp. 95–96.
Feeding māt Aššur 191
Einnahme der Stadt Šalūša geführt hat, und einem zweiten, der notwendig
bereits in das Folgeeponymat (Salmānu-šuma-uṣur) datiert und sich eben-
falls gegen Ḫanigalbat wendete.”45
Apart from the fact that Freydank’s translation of ikšuduni as “eingenommen” is
perhaps too much influenced by the military context (as stated already by Frey-
dank), there can’t be any doubt that the problems referred to here are somehow
related to what we find reflected in the documents from Dūr-Katlimmu. The evi-
dence from the local archive at Dūr-Katlimmu however antedates the actions de-
scribed in the text from Kār-Tukultī-Ninurta which relates the events to the two
eponymal years of Abi-ilī (T21) and Šulmānu-šuma-uṣur (T22). Both eponymates
are most probably to be assigned to the third regnal decade of Tukulti-Ninurta I.,
they certainly are later than the group of eponyms that date the Šalūša-Dossier
from Dūr-Katlimmu. The city of Šalūša had some role here – even if kašādu is
taken simply as “to reach”. With the necessary caution we might conclude then
that finally, in the eponymate of Abi-ilī, the Assyrian king took matters in his own
hands and went on campaign to settle the situation on the north-western border of
his kingdom. Within this context, the lack of barley in the region – be it for the
local population, be it for the Assyrian troops struggling against the enemy – is
prominent enough, that it is mentioned as part of a historical statement in an ad-
ministrative document from Kār-Tukultī-Ninurta. The expression šeʾam ušeliūni
“he had grain brought up there” in the historical statement most certainly refers to
the actions taken formerly by Aššur-iddin to secure the situation in sītu. Even
though the amount of grain raised may seem modest compared to what was re-
quired to feed deportees and dependent labourers in Kār-Tukultī-Ninurta, it was
not an insignificant amount for the Habur region. The difficult situation in the
north-western part of māt Aššur obviously required not only the presence of the
grand vizier and heavy military interventions. The circumstances also prompted
accompanying interventions such as the grain alliances documented here, which
are managed from Dūr-Katlimmu.
4. Conclusion
The network of provincial centres yields a kind of dormant infrastructure. To
activate this infrastructure, to raise the needed amount of grain from different
sources, is a deliberate demonstration of royal power, of governance. Consider
the following two arguments:
(1) The total of barley provided by the barley-network for Šalūša over some 3
to 4 years adds up to approx. 635 Emar (≈ 43.2 tons); at least this can be gathered
from the administrative documents that have come down to us. This amount of
grain could well have been raised by the province of Dūr-Katlimmu itself, at least
in those years when the granaries were apparently quite well stocked. In the 17th
45
Freydank, 2016a: 96.
192 Eva Cancik-Kirschbaum / Aron Dornauer
year of Tukulti-Ninurta, for example, there were still 460 Emar of barley in stock.
In relation to the huge amounts of grain mobilized in the course of the great royal
campaigns against Hanigalbat – see, e.g., MARV 2, 17 – this is a small amount.
But, what is of interest here is not so much the quantity as the mode by which
these needed quantities were raised: The Assyrian mode of governance allowed
the establishment of a regional network to raise a large quantity of required com-
modities through small individual shares.
(2) The involvement of different actors, namely district centres, individual
towns, and members of the Assyrian elite and local semi-dependent rulers such as
the kings of Māri and the kings of Ḫāna, is complex. And yet this effort has not
been spared. Instead, what we see here is a coordinated action, albeit by order
from above. It is probably a measure to keep the Assyrian troops in the region on
track. And it is certainly an attempt at regional stabilization, the maintenance of
food security, and ultimately, with it, the fortification of the settlement structure
in a region that was obviously subject to major unrest during this period. Accord-
ing to the imperative valid for agrarian societies that consumer and producer are
identical, it is crucial to keep the population in the region. The Assyrian state –
mediated by individual stakeholders, actively intervenes to maintain the region as
an Assyrian dominion. Governance in spaces of limited statehood such as the re-
gion of the Upper Khabur and between the Balikh and the Euphrates in the West
is directed to maintain stability in māt Aššur. Keeping up such an infrastructure is
all the more difficult, the more critical agrarian stability is. We have seen that a
major part of the yields from the Lower Khabur remained in the region. The role
of Dūr-Katlimmu was not only to ensure military control, but also to provide food
security for the population. Governance in the West of māt Aššur was also ex-
pressed through a kind of “barley infrastructure” administered by the palace and
the grand vizier in Dūr-Katlimmu. Feeding māt Aššur thus, is here – as far as we
can judge from the local textual evidence – an important element for the demon-
stration of civil governance.
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Economy and Food Production
at the Beginning of Urbanization
The Case Study of Jebel al-Mutawwaq
1. The settlement
Jebel al-Mutawwaq is an Early Bronze Age I site settled on the top of a mountain
located along the Middle Wadi az-Zarqa Valley, Jordan, between the middle and
the end of the Fourth Millennium BC.
The site was surveyed by Hanbury-Tenison in 1984 and 1986, then excavated
by a Spanish expedition of Oviedo University directed by J. A. Tresguerres-Ve-
lasco from 1989 to 2011 and now investigated by an Italian-Spanish team from
Perugia University (Italy) and Pontificia Facultad San Esteban of Salamanca
(Spain), co-directed by Andrea Polcaro and Juan Muniz since 2012. At the present
state of art, it seems that Jebel al-Mutawwaq site and necropolis have two main
phases of use, one dated to the end of the Early Bronze Age IA (a long period
usually dated from the 3500 to the 3200 BC) and the Early Bronze Age IB (3200–
3000 BC).1
The site consists of a village, surrounded by a settlement wall and by several
clusters of dolmens (Fig. 1). The village had at least 200 domestic units with a
typical oval or double-apsed plan, able to host more than one thousand people.2
*
Perugia University, Italy.
**
Pontificia Facultad San Esteban de Salamanca, Spain.
1
The first phase of occupation of the site is dated to EBIA by the C14 analysis performed
on some samples collected in the 2019 campaign in the Great Enclosure (5470–5316 cal
BP = 3521–3367 cal BC – Beta Analytic 576901); the EBIB phase is attested in the ne-
cropolis, in the Temple of the Serpents and in the domestic contexts (From Cave C.1012:
5190–5053 cal BP = 3241–3104 cal BC – Beta Analytic 561343; from Dolmen 11: 4980–
4856 cal BP = 3031–2907 cal BC – Beta Analytic 576899; from the Temple of the Ser-
pents: 5290–5040 cal BP = 3340–3090 cal BC – Beta Analytic 194526; from House 400:
5064–4870 cal BP = 3115–2921 cal BC – Beta Analytic 576900). The details about the
analysis are reported in Polcaro / Muniz, in press.
2
Fernandez-Tresguerres Velasco, 2001; Polcaro, 2019a; Polcaro / Muniz 2020a; Caselli,
2020.
198 Alessandra Caselli / Andrea Polcaro / Juan Ramon Muniz
3
Fernandez-Tresguerres Velasco, 2005; 2008; Polcaro / Muniz / Alvarez / Mogliazza
2014.
4
Due to the presence of other features, as such as a deep cup-mark, carved inside a block
of raised bedrock, probably used as a mortar, it was advanced the hypothesis that in this
room some kind of “healing potion” or medicine could be prepared and consumed inside
the cultic vessels decorated with serpent applications (Polcaro, 2019b).
Economy and Food Production at the Beginning of Urbanization 199
Fig. 3: A jar decorated with an applied serpent found inside House 76.
200 Alessandra Caselli / Andrea Polcaro / Juan Ramon Muniz
room, while in the northern room there was a large hearth covered by 70 cm of
accumulated ash deposit, suggesting that the room had the main function of cook-
ing food in large quantities. From burned olive seeds discovered inside the temple
area come the only two C14 dates that could be used to date the structure: 3340–
3090 BCE and 3320–3220 BCE.
3. Area C
The Area C of Jebel al-Mutawwaq, investigated since 2014, together with area D
and EE, gave in the last seasons of excavations the most interesting data till now
discovered in the site from the beginning of the Italian-Spanish expedition.5 It is
located just against the lower sector of the settlement wall, in correspondence of
the Central Sector of the EB I village. The area has a large view on the Valley of
the Wadi az-Zarqa and it is well visible from the Temple of the Serpents.
The largest structure identified in Area C is the Great Enclosure, a large semi-
circular enclosure, about 60 meters in diameter. This huge structure, still under
investigation, is characterized by the presence of a standing stone in the central
part of the enclosure (Fig. 4).
Fig. 4: A general view from Southeast of the Great Enclosure and the standing stone.
This large open space is delimited with a massive stone wall (W. 102), built
close to the southern cliff of the mountain. The external line of W. 102 is still
preserved in some points for three courses of stones, reaching a height of 1.50
5
Polcaro / Muniz / Caselli, in press; Polcaro / Muniz, 2021; Polcaro / Muniz, 2020b.
Economy and Food Production at the Beginning of Urbanization 201
meters. The only entrance of the enclosure was on the southwestern corner of W.
102; the door, D.1110, is very well preserved (Fig. 5). It is made by two lateral
stone slabs and a megalithic lintel still in place.
The large structure is dated to the EB IA, fact confirmed by the last C14 anal-
ysis performed on a burned olive seed dated 3521–3367 BCE, corresponding to
the last phase of use of the Great Enclosure, before his final sealing.6
Behind the megalithic stele close to the northern part of the delimiting wall, a deep
elongated corridor was carved directly on the bedrock along W. 102 behind the
stele (Fig. 6).
6
Polcaro / Muniz, 2021.
202 Alessandra Caselli / Andrea Polcaro / Juan Ramon Muniz
In the upper layer, a circular installation (I. 193) delimited by small stones was
discovered, containing a jar with inside food remains, in particular animal bones.
Under this installation in the lower level, another circular one of the same dimen-
sions was discovered, also with some pottery sherds inside, suggesting that the
deposition of food offering behind the stele of the Great Enclosure was a periodic
cultic activity.
In the same Area C other buildings have been identified around a large court-
yard of about 150 square meters, L. 51 (Fig. 7). Close to the Northern border of
Courtyard L. 51, the natural bedrock rises in elevation; here the rock was carved
in order to obtain small circular installations (I. 65 and I. 66) to host large storage
jars, partially discovered in situ. Thus, it seems that at least this part of the open
courtyard was used as a storage area7 (Fig. 8).
Close to the southern wall of Building 131, two large circular installations, I.
158 and I. 159, were identified. The installations, 1.8 m of diameter and 20 cm
high, are stone lined and filled with leveled layers of small white rubbles.8 The
installations occupied almost completely the southern part of the building, clearly
with some purpose of production.
Fig. 7: Area C, the plan of the first phase of use of L. 51 and Building 131.
7
Polcaro / Muniz, 2020b.
8
Casado et al., 2016: 285, fig. 8; Polcaro / Muniz, 2020b.
Economy and Food Production at the Beginning of Urbanization 203
Fig. 8: The courtyard L.51 and two storage jars found in it.
Nearby, two cup-marks were discovered (Fig. 9), the easternmost has a well
smoothed inner surface with raised edges, probably used as a mortar. The west-
ernmost, located in the center of the room, is composed by a main hole with a
smooth surface and the edge only partially raised, and a second smaller hole with
high raised edges. Even if a certain function cannot be identified, it is probable
that these cup-marks were used for food production activities related to the two
large circular installations.9 This indicates that Building 131 could have had not a
domestic purpose but was dedicated to the production of food in greater quantity.
9
Cup-marks are rock cut features difficult to interpret, very common in Southern Levan-
tine sites since the Natufian Period and used also in the Late Chalcolithic and Bronze Age
(see Kerner, 2022; Van Der Brink, 2008). Nevertheless, their shape can give some infor-
mation about their use. The cup-marks found inside the buildings of Jebel al-Mutawwaq,
particularly in connection with other food production installations like in this case, have
in some cases a shallow shape and clearly visible circular marks on one or all sides sug-
gesting a continuous rubbing activity with an element hard enough to leave such signs on
the limestone. This aspect suggests their use for food production activities, particularly
connected to pounding vegetal elements, like olives.
204 Alessandra Caselli / Andrea Polcaro / Juan Ramon Muniz
4. Area D
The excavations of 2019 and 2021 performed by the Spanish team of the Pontifi-
cia Facultad San Esteban of Salamanca discovered an entire domestic unit located
far north on the slope of the mountain in the central sector, in Area D. The house,
of double apsidal plan, had a door, blocked at the end of the use of the dwelling,
very well preserved with the two door’s stone jambs still in place. The house con-
tained several entire storing jars and other kind of vessels, together with grinding
stones and working installations with several olive seeds, some of them burned.10
From one of these seeds the C14 analyses gave an age of 3115–2921 BCE, corre-
sponding to the EB IB.11 This means that the Jebel al-Mutawwaq village in this
period reached its larger extension, at least in the northern part of the site, when
the settlement wall was also possibly built. In this phase, while the domestic units
grow in numbers and, possibly, in architectural and topographical differentiations,
something happened in the Mutawwaq society, changing the function of the
southern part of the Central Sector of the settlement in Area C. The Great Enclo-
sure already ended its first cultic use around 3300 BCE, perhaps in favor of the
construction of new cultic centers in the settlement, like the Temple of the Ser-
pents.
10
Polcaro / Muniz / Caselli, in press; Polcaro / Muniz, in press.
11
5064–4870 cal BP = 3115–2921 cal BC – Beta Analytic 576900.
12
Polcaro / Muniz, 2018.
Economy and Food Production at the Beginning of Urbanization 205
production activities, that was probable still in use at the time of the dolmen con-
struction (Fig. 10).
Fig. 10: Dolmen 534, a general view from North (on the right) and its angular access
(on the left).
The second excavated was Dolmen 535 (seasons 2016–2018), which is char-
acterized by a large burial chamber, about 2 meters high. The entrance of Dolmen
535 had two stone steps leading to the burial chamber. In front of the entrance, a
beaten earth floor has been recovered, together with a circular installation, just to
the left of the entrance of the chamber. Even if it is not possible to reconstruct its
function due to its bad state of preservation, it seems it must be related also in this
case to some kind of food preparation.13 This floor hid a shaft cut in the limestone,
about three meters deep, leading to a cave, also artificially cut inside the rock, and
then used as a burial chamber for secondary burials (Fig. 11).14 The funerary as-
semblage discovered in the cave consist only of miniaturist vessels, generally in-
terpreted as small bottles for perfumes, unguents or oils used in the funerary ritu-
als. From the human remains recovered inside Cave C.1012 comes the C14 date
3241–3104 BCE, thus again the EB IB.15
The last dolmen excavated in this group is Dolmen 11 (season 2019), located
along the Southern settlement wall, like Dolmen 535, not far from the Southern
gate of the Jebel al-Mutawwaq settlement and from a large water cistern, close to
the village entrance (Area EE). C14 analyses performed in 2020 on human bones,
giving an age between the 3031 and the 2097 BCE, clearly dated the use of the
burial chamber of Dolmen 11 to the EB IB.16 An interesting characteristic of Dol-
men 11 is the presence, next to the structure, of a standing stone in front of which
13
Casado et al., 2019.
14
Polcaro / Muniz, 2021.
15
Polcaro / Muniz / Caselli, in press; Polcaro / Muniz, in press.
16
Polcaro / Muniz / Caselli, in press; Polcaro / Muniz, in press.
206 Alessandra Caselli / Andrea Polcaro / Juan Ramon Muniz
has been identified a stone bench carved in the bedrock, a cup-mark, probably
used as a mortar,17 and several grinding stones that testify productive activities
connected to the dolmen (Fig. 12).
Fig. 11: Dolmen 534 and the access to Fig. 12: The carved bench and the cup-mark
the cave C.1012, a capture from the found in connection with Dolmen 11.
3D model.
6. Discussion
In order to reconstruct the production activities and subsistence economy of the
Jebel al-Mutawwaq community in the two phases of occupation of the site and the
consequences of these changes on the nutrition and food consumption, we re-
cently started to perform several analyses on osteological and botanical samples
collected in the past seasons. Concerning the first phase of occupation of the site
(EB IA), the most important context to investigate the food consumption habits
was the Great Enclosure. The animal bones discovered in the jar deposed appar-
ently as food offering behind the standing stone pertain to a sheep (Fig. 13).
17
Also in this case, as such as for the carved rock features of Building 131, the shape of
the cup-mark and the signs inside it suggest that it was used for pounding activities.
Economy and Food Production at the Beginning of Urbanization 207
The choice of the meat steaks, in particular the shoulder and the pelvis, points
to interpret the bones as food remain.18 Concerning possible comparison with food
remains located inside narrow rock cut corridors in cultic place, as such as the one
discovered in the Great Enclosure, it is interesting to mention the site of Megiddo.
In the Temple area of Megiddo, in the level J-2 (early EB IB), an holemouth jar
filled with bones pertaining to a single young sheep was discovered. It was not
interpreted as a food offering because there were both burnt and unburnt bones. It
was interpreted as a sort of deposit of debris linked to the cultic activities (see
Wapnish / Hesse, 2000: 444, 449). At the same time, in the later layer J-4 in the
Temple area, three narrow corridors have been identified filled with bone refuse
and were interpreted as favissae linked to a ritual dimension of the discard process
(see Adams / Finkelstein / Ussiskin, 2014: 291).
The bones discovered in the jar deposed in the Great Enclosure of Jebel al-
Mutawwaq do not present any traces of burning suggesting boiling as the cooking
technique. Moreover, after the cleaning of the bones and the removal of the com-
pact layer of earth attached on their surface, clear traces of butchering have been
identified. Furthermore, it would be interesting to reconstruct the age of the sheep
found inside the jar because recent analysis performed in EB I other sites of the
Southern Levant suggest that this aspect could be related to the function of the
18
Polcaro / Muniz / Caselli, in press; Polcaro / Muniz, in press.
208 Alessandra Caselli / Andrea Polcaro / Juan Ramon Muniz
context where the animal bones are collected.19 At the site of Megiddo, for in-
stance, EB IB samples coming from the sacred area have been compared to the
samples collected at Tel Megiddo East, a town site, and it was possible to observe
that the faunal remains from the Temple pertain to young caprines, indicating that
those animals were mainly exploited for their meat. On the contrary, faunal re-
mains collected at Tel Megiddo East are mainly adults indicating that the town
was focused on the production of secondary products, as wool and milk.20 These
data are consistent with the social complexity of the Early Bronze Age IB period
in the Southern Levant.21
The food remains recovered at Jebel al-Mutawwaq pertain to the Great Enclo-
sure, which is dated to the EB IA period, when the community was beginning to
settle permanently the site and the society had not reached the complexity attested
in the second phase of occupation of the site.
However, the discovery strongly suggests a cultic function of the Great Enclo-
sure, characterized by periodic rituals including food offering depositions, possi-
bly connected to recurring economic activities performed inside the structure by,
at least, part of the population of the EB IA village. For this reason, the identifi-
cation of the age of the animals could be an interesting data to investigate if an
internal differentiation in the exploitation of caprines can be detected in the site
since EB IA.
Concerning the typology of food related to the offering (or to the remains of a
meal) deposed inside the jar behind the standing stone of Great Enclosure, at the
present state of art, it is possible to advance the hypothesis that it was a sort of
stew of lamb.
It has to be considered that boiling is a common cooking technique in the land-
scapes characterized by the absence of substantial wood remains able to produce
large charcoals, as attested also in Mesopotamia, at least by the available textual
evidences, the Yale Tablets.22 Moreover, the boiling technique can be related to
the toughness of the meat and, consequently, to the age of the animal. Recently,
the consumption of stew with inside bones of caprines was proposed for the Late
Chalcolithic site of Shaki Kora in northern Mesopotamia, where analysis on bev-
eled rim bowls detected fat animal residues.23 The consumption of this kind of
food fits with landscapes characterized by pastoral exploitation, with a less
19
Identifying the age of the animals is not an easy task in the case of the sheep bones
discovered in the Great Enclosure because of the absence of long bones or teeth, sampling
of animal ancient DNA is undergoing for this reason.
20
Sapir-Hen / Fulton / Adams / Finkelstein, 2022: 216.
21
For a detailed analysis about the evolution in the animal exploitation in relation to the
increase of the social complexity of the communities of the EBA Southern Levant see
Gaastra / Greenfield / Greenfield, 2020.
22
Polcaro / Braconi, in this volume.
23
Perruchini et al., 2022.
Economy and Food Production at the Beginning of Urbanization 209
24
Olive trees cultivation and specialized production of olive oil along the rivers of the
Transjordan Highlands is also attested for the end of the Early Bronze Age (EB IV) from
the site of Khirbet Ghozlan (see Fraser et al., 2021). Moreover, the changing of the rela-
tionship between men and landscape since the beginning of the Early Bronze Age (EB I)
and the appearence of a megalithic funerary tradition, linking people to the territory, is
suitable with the grow of olive trees cultivation, a practice that needs control of the land
and careful care of the pants for most of the year. For a description of the evolution of
olive cultivation during the Early Bronze Age in the Southern Levant see Sabatini, 2019.
210 Alessandra Caselli / Andrea Polcaro / Juan Ramon Muniz
Finally, another strong change between the EB IA and the EB IB in Jebel al-
Mutawwaq concerns the relation between funerary structure and food production
installation. The large dolmens discovered in the Southern Necropolis, close to
the main southern gate that gave access to the site clearly indicate the presence of
continuous cultic activities connected with these monuments. The religious fes-
tivity connected to the celebration of the ancestors of the families or clans using
these monuments, built close to the settlement wall and to one of the main gateway
to the site, must have involved also the preparation of foods in great quantities.
This is proved by the presence of food installations connected to the three dolmens
since now excavated of this cluster, nos. 534, 535 and 11. Even if at the present
state of art is very difficult to reconstruct which kind of food the people was eating
in this occasions, the presence of grinding and pounding activities in the same
place, as such as for the installation beside of Dolmen 11 close to a sacred feature
(the standing stone), points to a specific productions of aliments. The consumption
of food dedicated to religious occasion such as funerals or periodic celebrations
of the dead is fully documented for the urban communities of the Near East, par-
ticularly in connection with the rise of power of the first urban elites.25 This is a
clear sign of the evolution of the Jebel al-Mutawwaq settlement at the very early
beginning of the Third Millennium BCE and of the fact that the site, before its
final abandonment happened probably around the 2900 BC, was transforming
from a large village community in a real urbanized society.
Bibliography
Adams, M.J. / Finkelstein, I. / Ussiskin, D., 2014: “The Great Temple of Early
Bronze Age I Megiddo”. American Journal of Archaeology 118.2, 285–305.
25
The ritual of kispum, the festivity dedicated to the royal ancestors, known mainly from
the Middle Bronze Age text of Mari / Tell Hariri in Syria (Jacquet, 2002; Colonna d’Istria,
2021), and performed also for the members of the royal family in Qatna during the Middle
and the Late Bronze Age, where it is proven clearly by archaeological evidences (Pfälzner,
2016), was performed also in the Middle Bronze Age Ebla / Tell Mardikh (Matthiae, 1980;
Polcaro, 2015; 2018). Despite this typology of ritual is well known for the royal elites of
the Second Millennium BC, the celebration of ancestors through dedicated festivities in-
volving the consumption of large quantities of food by the whole communities or by the
members of the urban elites was probably performed also in the Third Millennium BC (as
such as in the case of the elite cemetery of Umm el Marra (see Schwartz et al., 2006). Even
if more difficult to recognize in the Southern Levantine first urban communities, the con-
cept of remembering the ancestors with periodic commemorative rituals was advanced for
the site of Bab edh-Dhra; here during the EB IB – EB II the urbanization process involved
a strong change in the funerary rituals with the construction of the new “charnel houses”
tombs. The accessibility to these tombs from the new city suggests a frequency of repeti-
tion of memorializing ceremonies for specific clans or extended families (see Chesson,
2007).
Economy and Food Production at the Beginning of Urbanization 211
The recent publication of ARET XVIII1 makes the entire Ebla epistolary corpus
available, part of which was previously published in ARET XVI.2 Among the new
features that have already been noted in these two volumes, those concerning
problems in the food supply are of particular relevance. The information on this
topic is scattered throughout many letters, and therefore the compilation of a co-
herent thematic dossier is rather complex, also considering the general difficulties
in interpreting the Ebla letters.
As a matter of fact, the information regarding food supply problems is found
in the most recent letters. There is a consensus that the letters found in the Vesti-
bule (L.2875) of the Great Archive, published in ARET XVIII, are to be dated to
the very late phase of the Royal Palace G. For this period, some letters found in
the nearby Great Archive (L.2769), published in ARET XVI, can also be referred
*
In this presentation we will focus on a specific part of our ongoing research within the
framework of the PRIN 2017 “Big Data. Measuring Settlement Dynamics and Environ-
mental Exploitation in the Ebla Region during the 3rd Millennium BC: Archaeological
Record, Cuneiform Texts, and Remote Sensing”. We are cross-referencing data from let-
ters with those from administrative texts of comparable chronology, with a particular focus
on prosopography and the morpho-syntactic analysis of numbers and units of measure. In
the same RAI session, Luca Peyronel, Agnese Vacca, Simone Mantellini and one of us,
Marco Bonechi, have presented the paper “Food for the Capital”, which also derives from
the same PRIN 2017, including an overview of the primary resource exploitation of the
Ebla territory. This paper is a joint work of the authors; in particular, § 1 is by Catagnoti,
§ 2 is by Cianfanelli, § 3 by Gori, and § 4 by Bonechi.
**
Università degli Studi di Firenze.
***
Università degli Studi di Verona.
****
CNR – ISPC, Roma.
1
See Catagnoti / Fronzaroli, 2020.
2
See Catagnoti / Fronzaroli, 2010.
216 Amalia Catagnoti / Elisabetta Cianfanelli / Fiammetta Gori / Marco Bonechi
to, as their content makes it certain that they are contemporary with the letters of
the Vestibule.
Fig. 1: On the left, floor plan of the Great Archive (L.2769) and the Vestibule (L.2875)
(ARET XVIII: XVII). On the right, detail of the Vestibule (Matthiae, 2010: 122, fig. 55).
3
See Kogan / Krebernik, 2021: 768 fn. 290, whose syntactic interpretation of ARET XVI
2 II:7–III:1 is here adopted (cfr. Catagnoti / Fronzaroli, 2010: 24, 28).
The Value of Food 217
One can note that what the king wonders about, and most likely fears, is positively
recorded in another letter, in which the sender states:
ARET XVIII 12 (I-bí-zi-kir’s (?) letter to Du-bù-ḫu-dʾÀ-da), obv. I:3–II:6:
su-ma / ninda / ba-su-ga / wa / še-mar-tukux(ḪÚB) / dam-dam // lú I-bí-zi-
kir / wa / gurušda / zíd / dam-dam / ḫi-mu-DU
“If the food is scarce so that I-bí-zi-kir’s women are hungry, then the ani-
mal fattener shall bring the flour to the women!”4
Soon after, the sender continues stating that the same should be done for the
women who reside with Du-bù-ḫu-dʾÀ-da. In their two following short messages
to Du-bù-ḫu-dʾÀ-da, A-bu and Šè-ma-dKU-ra5 recommend him to provide sup-
plies also to Da-na-núm and Ti-ḫir-Ma-lik, two sisters of I-bí-zi-kir. Therefore,
apparently, a general condition of food scarcity also extended to the upper levels
of the Ebla society. Interestingly, in this passage the two notions of “shortage”
(*pšq) and “hunger” (*ḥmṣ)6 are visibly connected. Elsewhere, in ARET XVI 3
the noun pušqum, “dire straits”, is used in the context of food that may be in short
supply.7 The same should apply in ARET XVIII 2 (see below, § 4). As for še-mar-
tukux, it further occurs in ARET XVIII 14, said of ir11-servants.
Before discussing other aspects of this food shortage, it is worth pointing out
who the protagonists of this correspondence are.
Fig. 2 displays letters published in ARET XVI and ARET XVIII. In their in-
cipits these letters often included the names of senders and addressees. Although,
in some cases, the incipits of the letters are broken or absent, it has been possible
to guess the sender or the addressee from the content.
4
Alternatively, it could be proposed the hendiadys ba-su-ga wa še-mar-tukux, i.e. paššuqā
wa ḥammuṣā, from pašāqum, “to become narrow”, and ḥamāṣum “to be hungry”, both
referred to the “women” (dam-dam), thus resulting: “If, regarding food, I-bí-zi-kir’s
women are in straits and are hungry, then the animal fattener shall bring the flour to the
women!”.
5
They both were I-bí-zi-kir’s maškim-agents, Šè-ma-dKU-ra being also his ugula zax
“overseer of the goods”.
6
The Semitic form concealed by the Sumerogram še-mar-tukux is ḥamāṣum (Akk.
emēṣum), see Catagnoti / Fronzaroli 2020: 61 as for VE 1407’a, EV 0388–0389, with
literature.
7
ARET XVI 3 obv. III:13–IV:1, bù-su-ga // ninda, said of kam4-mu / uru-bar (Catagnoti /
Fronzaroli, 2010: 34, 37, “scarsità di cibo”; Kogan / Krebernik, 2021: 793, 846, “scarcity
of bread”).
218 Amalia Catagnoti / Elisabetta Cianfanelli / Fiammetta Gori / Marco Bonechi
As can be seen, most of the letters are addressed from I-bí-zi-kir to Du-bù-ḫu-
d
ʾÀ-da and, in almost equal numbers, from Iš11-ar-da-mu to I-bí-zi-kir. The cor-
respondence in our possession was therefore held by the Ebla elite. Aside from
the last king, Iš11-ar-da-mu, the minister I-bí-zi-kir and his son Du-bù-ḫu-dʾÀ-da
are the most important persons attested in these letters. Interestingly, Iš11-ar-da-
mu and Du-bù-ḫu-dʾÀ-da together are the senders of at least one letter addressed
to I-bí-zi-kir and, vice versa, both together are the addressees of one of the minis-
ter’s letters. Unfortunately, there are no letters whose sender is only Du-bù-ḫu-
d
ʾÀ-da, while only one letter was sent from I-bí-zi-kir to Ru12-zi-ma-lik, another
of his sons. Moreover, many of the persons recorded in these letters by their per-
sonal names are already known from the administrative texts. They can mainly be
identified as members of the king’s and the minister’s families as well as Palace
officials almost always connected, through working relationships, with the min-
ister. Therefore, they too belonged to the highest level of Ebla society and admin-
istration. In their letters, Iš11-ar-da-mu and I-bí-zi-kir mention these people mainly
due to their journeys and their activities which, unfortunately, in most cases are
not clearly explained.
city, (because of) the barley of consumption of the city that he diverted to
the zà-ús-troops”8
It seems that the complaint of the na-se11-na-se11 (the Ebla Akkadogram for “peo-
ple”) was due to the allocation of the city’s barley (i.e., Ebla’s), needed for the
consumption of the na-se11-people themselves, to the zà-ús-troops. By comparing
other letters,9 it seems that the minister I-bí-zi-kir diverted the allocation of barley
to the troops, who were probably with him outside the kingdom of Ebla.
In this passage, the verb indicating complaint is šasāyum (Akk. šasûm), “to
shout”.10 Also, the verb rabāṯum (Akk. rabāšum), “to raise claims, lay claim to
something”, is used to lodge a complaint in connection with protests by the peo-
ple, as can be seen in these other two passages:11
ARET XVI 2 (Iš11-ar-da-mu’s letter to I-bí-zi-kir), rev. III:5–9:
wa / da-ra-ba-šu / na-se11-na-se11 / ma-da a ma-da-ma / áš-du-nu
“And the complaint by the people is getting greater and greater by us”
ARET XVI 11 (Iš11-ar-da-mu’s letter to Du-bù-ḫu-dʾÀ-da?), rev. V:6–10:
ba / dar-ba-šu / na-se11-na-se11 / ra-ba-ša-ga / a-ra-ba-ša-ga
“And here, (as) for the complaint by the people, I will lodge a complaint
against you!”12
In two further passages, the verb rabāṯum is used in contexts of more complex
interpretation:
ARET XVI 3 (Iš11-ar-da-mu’s letter to I-bí-zi-kir), obv. II:12–III:3:
ìr-da-⸢ba⸣-⸢ša⸣-am6 / ninda / al6-tuš / uruki
“He advanced recourse about the city residents’ food”
ARET XVIII 13 (I-bí-zi-kir?’s letter to Du-bù-ḫu-dʾÀ-da), obv. I:5–II:7:
wa / íl / zíd / ba-[šè-am6] / s[a6] / si-in / guruš-guruš / gál-taka4 / wa / ti-la-
ba-šu / guruš-guruš / ⸢taka4⸣ / nu sa6
“And they are to bring good flour, (as) available, to the men who are open-
ing up (waters), as the(se) men are advancing recourse (saying that) the
remaining (flour) is not good anymore”13
8
Previous interpretations in Catagnoti / Fronzaroli, 2010: 77, 80f; Kogan / Krebernik,
2021: 797 fn. 439, 805, 821 fn. 575, 894.
9
See in particular ARET XVI 8, ARET XVI 9, ARET XVI 12, and ARET XVIII 2.
10
Catagnoti / Fronzaroli, 2010: 81. See also Kogan / Krebernik, 2021: 685, 830.
11
On rabāṯum in the Ebla texts see Catagnoti / Fronzaroli, 2010: 37, Catagnoti, 2012: 221,
and Fronzaroli, 2020: 293; also Kogan / Krebernik, 2021: 782 fn. 369. We thank Gojko
Barjamovic and Ryan D. Winters, who discussed with us this specific topic.
12
Previous interpretations in Catagnoti / Fronzaroli, 2010: 87, 91; Kogan / Krebernik,
2021: 780 fn. 357, 795, 852, 893f.
13
Cfr. Catagnoti / Fronzaroli, 2020: 63.
220 Amalia Catagnoti / Elisabetta Cianfanelli / Fiammetta Gori / Marco Bonechi
One can see that, in addition to the na-se11-people, these protests also concerned
groups of workers, such as the guruš, men employed by the Palace in various
occupations, including military service. As a matter of fact, in other letters (see
below, § 3) the king Iš11-ar-da-mu, the minister I-bí-zi-kir and his son Du-bù-ḫu-
d
ʾÀ-da make an effort to find barley, flour and, in some cases, even silver to buy
foodstuffs for various categories of personnel: the guruš-workers themselves, the
ir11-servants and the zà-ús-troops.
The scarcity of food and the need to obtain supplies also affected groups of
people coming from outside the kingdom of Ebla, who resided there or were trav-
elling through it. This is the case of the al6-tuš-people, a term that frequently in-
dicates groups coming from abroad and residing in the Ebla kingdom. The case
of the kam4-mu-people can be added. They were groups of itinerant people, em-
ployed by the Ebla Palace mainly for seasonal works. As discussed in the next
paragraph, the king had to provide for the maintenance of these groups of people.
3. Seasonality
The search for barley and flour for all the people and personnel categories seen so
far responds to an allocation planned by the Palace administration, as is shown by
some letters.
In ARET XVI 10, after dealing with provisions for the 10th and 11th months,
the king asks:
ARET XVI 10 (Iš11-ar-da-mu’s letter to Du-bù-ḫu-dʾÀ-da), obv. II:10–
III:1:
mi-na / še / a du-ša-ga-du / na-se11-na-se11 / iti ŠUKU
“How much barley will you (pl.) actually transport for the people for the
12th month?”14
Shortly thereafter, in this same letter, the king is also concerned in advance about
the barley supplies needed for the 1st month.
Probably in this same month I-bí-zi-kir also faces supply difficulties, as can be
seen in the following passage:15
14
For a different interpretation cfr. Kogan / Krebernik, 2021: 768. As for the interpretation
of du-ša-ga-du as a singular form see Kogan / Krebernik, 2021: 807, fn. 497. The
interpretation of du-ša-ga-du as a plural form is maintained here by the context of the
letter, which records the presence of men from Armi.
15
The attribution of this letter to I-bí-zi-kir is based on palaeographic peculiarities
concerning the signs DU and AN (see obv. IV’:3). It is a very fragmentary letter and the
passage presented here is one of the few that are intact.
The Value of Food 221
16
See, for example, ARET XVIII 3, rev. IV:4–16: in-na / kù:babbar / ŠÈ / šu mu-taka4 / še
/ níg-sám / še-ba / guruš-guruš / 1 iti / si-mi / ì-ti / si-in / Na-gàrki, translated as “Di certo
l’argento consegnato per l’orzo per comprare le razioni degli uomini, prezzo per un mese,
è arrivato a Nagar” in Catagnoti / Fronzaroli, 2020: 13.
17
ARET VII 82, obv. II:1–5: 2 ma-na ŠA.PI kù:babbar / 3 mi<-at> 20 še gú-bar / áš-da /
En-sa-gi-su / lú 1 mu, following the interpretation in Archi, 1988: 115; Archi, 2002a: 100;
Catagnoti, 2003: 235; Catagnoti/Fronzaroli, 2020: 11. This seems to agree with the datum
of ARET XVIII 4, indicating that 20 níg-sagšu-measures of flour corresponded to 1 shekel
of silver, see ARET XVIII 4 obv. V:14–15: 1 gín-DILMUN kù:babbar / 20!(2) níg-sagšu
zíd, following the interpretation in Catagnoti / Fronzaroli, 2020: 20, 26. Therefore, 1
kubār-measure of flour corresponded to 1 shekel of silver. The passage “TM.75.G.1985
obv. VII 6–8: 1,480 gú-bar še a-dè 3 ma-na bar6 :kù ‘1,480 measures g. of barley: value
of 3 minas of silver’” (Archi 2002b: 13) will be discussed elsewhere.
18
ARET XVI 12 obv. II:11–III:1 3 mi-at 33 ma-na ŠÚ+ŠA / kù:babbar / še-ba / 2 li<-im>
zà-ús 10.
19
ARET XVI 12 obv. I:5–7 5 mi-at ma-na kù:babbar / še-ba / 6 li [gu]ruš ⸢5⸣.
222 Amalia Catagnoti / Elisabetta Cianfanelli / Fiammetta Gori / Marco Bonechi
texts do not record how much barley was apportioned among the men belonging
to this expedition.20
A further comparison between chancery and administrative texts can be made
considering the data of TM.75.G.427,21 a tablet found in the Small Archive
(L.2712). It accounts for flour and einkorn for various categories of employees
and single individuals belonging to the Palace administration over seven years.
This text, belonging to the final years of the Archives, is very useful for obtaining
information about the fluctuations of cereal expenditures during this period.
The most consistent piece of information regards the še-ba-allotments for the
guruš-workers.
As can be seen from the charts in Fig. 3, the trend in annual allocations, over
this seven-year period, shows some fluctuations and a slight decrease in the last
year.
As for the last two years, this text records – besides the regular še-ba-allot-
ments – a diri-addition. Nevertheless, this fact does not affect the negative trend
of the fluctuations.
This negative trend could be confirmed by ARET IX 5, ARET IX 8 and ARET
IX 9, assuming that these administrative texts, dated to three different years by
their editor,22 refer also to three consecutive years of the same final period.23
In particular, looking at graphs 2 and 3 in Fig. 4, one can see that the light-
grey data-set from ARET IX 9 shows a decrease in the allotments, even when
taking the diri-additions into account. If so, this data indicates a decrease also in
the amount of barley given to the personnel of the “House of the king” (é en).
20
Nonetheless, in ARET XVI 12 the ratio of guruš-workers to zà-ús-troops is 3:1.
Therefore, a possible number of people travelling with I-bí-zi-kir may be 300 guruš-
workers (3,000 kubār-measure of barley) plus 100 members of the zà-ús-troops (2,000
kubār-measure of barley). It is noteworthy how both figures are compatible with a division
into groups of 20 people each, i.e., é-duru5ki (respectively, 15 groups of guruš-workers and
5 groups of zà-ús-troops).
21
This text has been published in Pettinato 1974–1977; it will be re-published as ARET X
100.
22
Milano, 1990: 8.
23
As a working hypothesis, the sequentiality of these three texts may be suggested by
comparing the presence of the diri-additions in ARET IX 8 and ARET IX 9 with those in
the last two years recorded in TM.75.G.427.
The Value of Food 223
Fig. 3: Food allotments (še-ba) for male personnel (guruš) over the years
recorded in TM.75.G.427.
4. Natural contingencies
Regarding, in particular, the food supply problems here investigated, natural con-
tingencies might be among the causes explaining them.
In the various letters seen so far, there are several references to months. They
are mainly polarized around the 12th and 1st months, i.e., about ten months after
the previous harvest and some months before the next one: accordingly, a period
in which storehouses might have been half-empty.
This topic needs further cross-referenced data from administrative texts. At
present, the following information from two other letters should be considered.
In the first one, Iš11-ar-da-mu warns I-bí-zi-kir about the problem of parasites
infesting grain, which probably was stocked in storehouses:
224
Fig. 4: Food allotments (še-ba) for the “ House of the king” (é en) – ARET IX 5, ARET IX 8 and ARET IX 9.
Amalia Catagnoti / Elisabetta Cianfanelli / Fiammetta Gori / Marco Bonechi
The Value of Food 225
Bibliography
Archi, A., 1988: Testi amministrativi: registrazioni di metalli e tessuti (Archivio
L. 2769). ARET VII. Roma.
— 2002a: “ʻDebtʼ in an Archaic Palatial Economy: The Evidence from Ebla”. In
M. Hudson / M. Van De Mieroop (eds): Debt and Economic Renewal in the
Ancient Near East. Bethesda, 95–108.
— 2002b: “Prepositions at Ebla”. In C. H. Gordon / G. A. Rendsburg (eds):
Eblaitica: Essays on the Ebla Archives and Eblaite Language 4. Winona Lake,
1–21.
24
Previous interpretations in Catagnoti / Fronzaroli, 2010: 25, 30; Kogan / Krebernik,
2021: 778 fn. 338. For i-⸢ti⸣ see Marchesi, 2013: 280.
25
This translation follows Marchesi, 2013: 279f.
226 Amalia Catagnoti / Elisabetta Cianfanelli / Fiammetta Gori / Marco Bonechi
The content of this study may prove somewhat different from that promised by its
title, since my views on the location of Magan underwent alteration in the course
of my research and the original thesis receded from view in the process. I had
originally accepted the opinio communis to the effect that the land of Magan in
Bronze Age texts is to be found in the southeast Arabian Peninsula, and my idea
was to argue that Maništušu’s campaign, recorded in the Standard Inscription, was
not in southeast Arabia and hence not in Magan. Now I am arguing that it was not
in southeast Arabia, whether it was in Magan or not. I will attempt to clarify this
conclusion in the explanation below.
A country or region can lay claim to a certain pride by identifying itself with
a place-name sanctified by antiquity. In southeast Arabia that pride issues from
identification with the ancient land of Magan. This suggestion was advanced as
early as 1917 by Kmoskó,1 and was vigorously promoted by archaeologists and
other researchers working in the region in the 1970’s, prior to which point the
scholarship displays less unanimity. Much of their work was supported by the
reformist regime of the late Sultan Qaboos in Oman from 1970, and by the rulers
of the United Arab Emirates after the federation of 1971 and the growth of na-
tional identity. Their success is evident; nearly all texts now locate Magan in to-
day’s Oman and the contiguous UAE. To quote a random sample: “In Sargonic-
period texts we read of maritime trade with the lands of Magan (the Oman penin-
sula)”; “Magan – the name for the Oman peninsula in cuneiform sources”; “Ma-
gan, the ancient name for the Oman peninsula, was important for the mining and
smelting of the local copper ore as well as other minerals.”2 The designation has
become an element of pride locally – signs outside modern copper mines in Oman
sport the title “Magan.”3
As a resident of Arabia, I long adhered to this identification, aided by an ele-
ment of wishfulness. But we must acknowledge that the trail of evidence for Ma-
1
See Potts, 1986: 271–272.
2
Bernbeck / Pollock, 2005: 19; Olijdam, 2006: 594; Hoyland, 2001: 11.
3
J. Lawton in Aramco World 34.3, May/June 1983 (https://archive.aramcoworld.com/
issue/198303/oman-the.lost.land.htm).
228 John Dayton
gan’s location seems to go cold before it quite reaches Arabia, and in a few im-
portant cases it is counterindicative. Arabia is often mentioned in connection with
Maništušu’s Standard Inscription (Frayne, RIME 2.1.3.1, 1–41 with his transla-
tion):
1) ma-an-íś-tu-šu
2) LUGAL
3) KIŠ
4) ì-nu
5) an-ša-an.KI
6) ù
7) ši4-rí-ḫu-um.KI
8) SAG.GIŠ.RA-ni
9) ti-a-am-tàm
10) śa-pil-tàm
11) MÁ.MÁ.GIŠ.LA-e
12) u-śa-bì-ir
13) URU.KI.URU.KI
14) a-bar-ti
15) ti-a-am-tim
16) 32 a-na
17) REC 169
18) ip-ḫu-ru-nim-a
19) iš11-ar
20) ù
21) URU.KI.URU.KI-śu-nu
22) SAG.GIŠ.RA
23) EN.EN-śu-nu
24) [u-ś]a-am-[q]í-it
25) ù
26) íś-tu[m-ma]
27) i[d-ké-aś-śu-nu-ni-ma]
28) a-dì-⸢ma⸣
29) ḫu-rí KÙ
30) íl-qù-ut
31) ŚA.DÚ-e
32) a-bar-ti
33) ti-a-am-tim
34) śa-pil-tim
35) NA4.NA4-⸢śu⸣-nu GI4
36) i-pu-⸢lam-ma⸣
37) in MÁ.MÁ
38) i-ṣa-⸢na-ma⸣
On the Logistical Probabilities of Maništušu’s ‘Magan’ Campaign 229
39) in kar-rí-<im>
40) ši a-kà-dè.KI
41) ìr-ku8-us
“(1–3) Maništūšu, king of the world: (4–8) when he conquered Anšan and
Ŝiriḫum, (9–12) had … ships cross the Lower Sea. (13–19) The cities
across the Sea, 32 (in number), assembled for battle, but he was victorious
(over them). (20–24) Further, he conquered their cities, [st]ru[c]k down
their rulers (25–30) and aft[er] he [roused them (his troops)], plundered as
far as the Silver Mines. (31–41) He quarried the black stone of the moun-
tains across the Lower Sea, loaded (it) on ships, and moored (the ships) at
the quay of Agade.” (Note: Širiḫum is now often transcribed Šeriḫum.)
The site of the Elamite capital Anšan is known as Tall-e-Malyan, located well
inland in Iran. A casual reading of the inscription might give us a locale for the
32 kings on the Arabian side of the Gulf. Therefore we often hear reference to the
“32 lords of Magan” even in professional literature: “… There are textual indica-
tions of a polycentric distribution of power in southeastern Arabia. For example,
Manish-tushu records that he defeated the ‘32 lords of Magan,’ a term indicating
a political landscape consistent with the settlement distribution of the Umm an-
Nar period.”4 Or, “Manishtushu’s allusion to campaigning against no fewer than
32 ‘lords of Magan’ implies a decentralized political landscape at the time …”5
In the same fashion: “Akkadian cuneiform records from Mesopotamia make ref-
erence to several third millennium military campaigns against the “lords of Ma-
gan”,” and “Textual descriptions of the military exploits of the Akkadian ruler
Manishtushu (ca. 2269–2255 BC) brag of his invasions of Magan in order to ac-
quire diorite.”6
The quotation marks around ‘32 lords of Magan’ imply a textual authority
which the phrase does not possess. In fact the Standard Inscription does not men-
tion the name Magan at all; the scene of Maništušu’s campaign goes unnamed.
What has happened, it seems, is a circular iteration whereby some readers have
placed Maništušu’s landing in Arabia, which they assume is called Magan, and
then others have used the text as evidence that Magan was located in Arabia. Once
the phrase “32 Lords of Magan” appeared in print, it then circulated like a germ
through the secondary literature until it was believed to possess some textual ba-
sis. Some justification for the first step is found in Maništušu’s quarrying of stone,
no doubt gabbro or diorite, in the subjugated realms (most of the extant fragments
of Maništušu’s statues are olivine gabbro).7 This stone is certainly provided by
4
Magee, 2014: 118.
5
Potts, 2001: 40.
6
Gregoricka, 2011: 53, 70.
7
Eppihimer, 2010: 367–369.
230 John Dayton
the Hajar Mountains, but they were not the exclusive source. The ḫu-rí KÙ of line
29 has found a variety of interpretations: Edelmetall-Minen, metal mines, copper
mines.8 These readings are not impossible, but neither is there any reason to rec-
ommend them except to make Arabia a better fit for the location. In view of the
fact that, in the Sargonid Royal Inscriptions, the terms URUDU and KÙ.GI are
used to specify copper and gold (E2.1.2.6, 132–134), Frayne is probably correct
in adhering to the normal meaning of unmodified KÙ and rendering the phrase
“silver mines.” These are better attested in Iran, and to my knowledge have not
been proven for Bronze Age Arabia, but still they are not inconceivable there, as
some silver is currently produced in Oman. A lengthy excursus would be otiose
as neither the presence of silver nor of copper would suffice to ascertain a locality.
The text does not identify Maništušu’s point of embarkation, but it was not
Anšan proper, which is sited well inland. The closest port was probably Liyan
near modern Bushehr, and it would have been little more difficult to proceed to
the Tigris or Euphrates mouth, a better base of re-supply, than to Liyan. From any
probable point of departure, his “crossing” is very difficult to orient, though some
have insisted that a-bar-ti / ti-a-am-tim / śa-píl-tim indicates a landing on the Ara-
bian side opposite Anšan or Ŝeriḫum.9 If he did depart from Liyan rather than
retiring to refit, a voyage directly across the Gulf from Anšan / Liyan would not
have landed him anywhere near modern Oman or the UAE – Dilmun or adjacent
Al Hasa province would be a better conjecture on that basis. But in any case,
textual parallels from the Sargonid Royal Inscriptions caution us not to invest a-
bar-ti / ti-a-am-tim / śa-píl-tim with any such directional specificity. A-bar-ti can
be rendered “across, on the opposite shore,” such as when a river crossing is at
issue,10 but in other loci such as in Naram-sin’s victory inscription (E2.1.4.28, 15–
20) we have the specific phrase a-bar-ti ti-a-am-tim (reliably restored) for which
this meaning is inappropriate: here a-bar-ti / ti-a-am-tim / śa-píl-tim / a-dì-ma /
ti-a-am-tim / a-lí-tim is a formulaic phrase indicating a general direction, at the
far end of the Lower Sea, or even past it: “When the four quarters together revolted
against him, from beyond the Lower Sea as far as the Upper Sea he smote the
people and all the Mountain Lands for the god Enlil” (ll. 9–27; cf. E2.1.4.29, 5–
15).11 In this occurrence, the point of reference is certainly not Anšan. In truth it
is impossible to gain any precise locale for the 32 EN.EN, except that it was some-
8
Heimpel, 1982: 67 fn. 21; Potts, 1986: 273–274 and fn. 16; Laursen / Steinkeller, 2017:
33 – “copper mines apparently are meant.”
9
Heimpel, 1982: 66–67; Potts, 1986: 273; Laursen / Steinkeller, 2017: 32–33. The latter
maintain that the text identifies Ŝeriḫum as the point of embarkation, but this is uncertain.
The Royal Inscriptions enumerate campaigns of conquest and would not trouble to record
intervening logistical movements.
10
E.g., RIME 2.1.4.2, 9.
11
The same phrase is found in another inscription of Naram-Sin (E2.1.4.29 l.9) and in one
of Šar-Kali-Šarri (E2.1.5.5, 16–18).
On the Logistical Probabilities of Maništušu’s ‘Magan’ Campaign 231
where at the further end of the Arabian Gulf or the Gulf of Oman, whichever the
side, and thus his journey must refer to a lengthwise southeastwardly crossing.
Wengrow notes: “Mesopotamian royal inscriptions, from the late third millen-
nium BC onwards, routinely assert the conquest of ‘all the peoples and mountain
lands from across the Lower Sea to the Upper Sea’ … The scope of these geo-
graphical locations was not rigidly fixed, changing with experience and perhaps
also the with the contexts in which they were used.”12 The “Upper Sea” can refer
to either the Mediterranean or the Caspian, or both. A phrase such as a-bar-ti / ti-
a-am-tim / śa-píl -tim / a-dì-ma / ti-a-am-tim / a-lí-tim reflects the habit of defining
realms in terms of their polar boundaries, in phrases of the sort “from Dan to
Beersheba,” wherein the precise geographical locales are secondary to the spatial
dimensions which they delimit. The English verb “cross” for such phrases as u-
śa-bì-ir (E2.1.3.1. line 12) and i-bi-ir-ma (E2.1.4.3 line 23) can be misleading,
since we envision one traversing the breadth of a sea as opposed to the length,
where the Akkadian verb does not imply the same.13 So the campaign really can-
not be placed either in Arabia or in Magan on the strength of this inscription.
Maništušu’s son Naram-Sin did, however, reach Magan, wherever it may have
been. The inscription on the reverse of the Jena tablet has not been cited much in
this connection (E2.1.4.3). But this inscription again does not identify any direc-
tion, so if it does refer to Magan it could be anywhere at the further end of the
Gulf. Qáb-li ti-a-am-tim “in the midst of the sea”, lines 25–26) is also difficult to
construe. Foster’s commentary advises that it refers to the site of the battle and
“this line should not be cited as evidence for the specific location of Magan” (Fos-
ter, 1990: 38). This inscription would refer to his original conquest. The revolt of
Manium (or variants Mannu, Ma-annu, Manidan) of Magan described in the better
known “Victory’ statue inscription from Susa (E.2.1.13) gives us no further help;
the name of Magan is more legible there but there are no details of the location.
The name of Magan’s king requires restoration, for which certainty is impossi-
ble.14 Lombardi suggests an Elamite origin for the name, while Michaux-Colom-
bot, following Glassner, favors Semitic.15 The Neo-Babylonian Chronicle of
Early Kings (BM 26,472) gives the form Mannu-Dannu (line A27). No firm con-
sensus on the name has emerged, and in the end, we have no textual evidence
from the Royal Inscriptions which could accurately map Magan. The materials
associated with Magan are diorite or gabbro, which Naram-Sin mentions as quar-
rying there, as well as copper. Recent research from the University of Tübingen
indicates that diorite and gabbro brought from Magan for royal statues could orig-
12
Wengrow, 2018: 23–4.k.
13
See C. J. Gadd, CAH 3rd ed. 1.2, 440, fn. 2 on this verb as locus conclamatus.
14
See Potts, 1986: 276–277 for a list of conjectures.
15
Lombardi, 2015: 25; Michaux-Colombot, 2001: 344
232 John Dayton
inate in the Jiroft Culture of Iran, in Kerman province near the Gulf.16 The several
alabaster jars inscribed as “Booty of Magan” from Naram-Sin’s campaign
(E2.1.4.4), taken later to Susa, have been identified as Iranian by origin.17 The
origin of the alabaster proves little, but at the least it furnishes no evidence in favor
of an Omani Magan.18 One impetus for placing it in southern Arabia was the sim-
ilarity noted by archaeologists of the German Mining Museum between the com-
position of ancient bronze samples from Oman and Mesopotamia. Again, recent
work makes the provenance of the copper samples from SE Arabia more ques-
tionable; surprisingly, some may be imported.19
Textual evidence after the Akkadian period continues with some counter-indi-
cations for an Arabian location. Gudea’s Cylinder A mentions the timber of Ma-
gan’s mountains (ETCSL 2.1.7., 392–396 / A15.6–10):
The phrase kur-bi-ta specifies Magan’s mountains as the source of the timber.
Unless we contend that Gudea or his scribes were ignorant of the timber’s original
source, Magan is not in the Hajar Mountains, even allowing for differences in
flora and climate since the Bronze Age. The somewhat less arid environment of
Oman’s Jebel Akhdar still is not known to furnish trees in sufficient size or pro-
fusion for lumber export, and it is dubious to posit more favorable conditions in
16
Pfälzner / Soleimani 2015: 134–135. We should note here the testing recounted in Heim-
pel (1987), which was limited to visual analysis and was essentially inconclusive. It could
neither rule out nor confirm an Omani origin for Maništušu’s statues (primarily olivine
gabbro) or Gudea’s (primarily diorite), with particular reservations expressed over the di-
orite. See also Heimpel, 1982; Yule / Guba, 2001; Laursen / Steinkeller, 2017: 28.
17
Potts, 1986: 283.
18
We may mention the steatite vessel also identified as “Booty of Magan” which features
the incised concentric circles characteristic of Umm-an-Nar work (Laursen / Steinkeller,
2017: 27–29, fn. 27). Note, though that the name “Magan” here is entirely a restoration,
and also that these vessels were widely distributed outside the Gulf, some examples prob-
ably being of local manufacture. A specimen has been excavated as far afield as the Gonur
Royal Necropolis in Turkmenistan (Lombard, 2020: 612–614).
19
Weeks, 2007: 90–94.
On the Logistical Probabilities of Maništušu’s ‘Magan’ Campaign 233
Ur III, since increasing aridity and vegetation loss in the region began ca. 2100–
2000 BC,20 and prior to that time the fuel demands of intensive copper smelting
through the 3rd mill. BC had likely depleted the already sparse wood supplies.
Magan, with Meluḫḫa, remains persistently identified as a source of wood,21 and
is so referenced in a pair of late 3rd-millennium school texts, perhaps slightly ear-
lier than Gudea: “May Magan and Meluḫḫa ship wood to you.”22 This is probably
the mes or mèš wood often described as mes of Magan, Akkadian misukannu with
many variant spellings (Urra=ḫubullu Tablet III.204 23has gišmes má-gan-na =
mu-su-ka-nu). We find it in Enki and Ninḫursaĝa along with stone: “May the land
of Meluḫa load precious desirable cornelian, meš wood of Magan and the best
abba wood into large ships for you. May the land of Marḫaši yield you precious
stones, topazes. May the land of Magan offer you strong, powerful copper,
dolerite, u stone and šumin stone” (ETCSL 1.1.1 49A-I).
The first passage above also employs the verb gú ĝiš – ĝál for which the read-
ing “wear a neck-stock / subjugate, submit” is patently incorrect in this context.
All these cited passages represent the enduring literary topos which reaches to
Gilgamesh and Solomon, the arrival of building woods from distant lands at royal
behest, which descends from the Early Dynastic formula má-dilmun kur-ta gú-
ĝiš mu-ĝál found throughout the inscriptions of Ur-Nanše, always in contexts of
royal building commissions.24 The meaning is clearly, “Ships of Dilmun brought
wood from abroad”; any effort to translate the verb merely as “submit/subjugate”
produces nonsense. Likewise, the text Ni. 13208 (ISET 1 212) has má-gan.⸢ki⸣/
me-luḫ.ki/ gú ĝiš ḫa-ra-ab-ĝál (i.6–8) sited in a description of precious building
material arriving from abroad, so Michalowski renders it correctly as above: “May
Magan and Meluḫḫa ship wood to you!” In the Gudea passage the translation
“submit” is highly awkward in relation to the nominal phrase kur-bi-ta. We can
also adduce Gudea’s Statue D (E3/1.1.7.StD, 7–11), where the verbal phrase gú
ĝiš mu-na-ĝál-la-àm appears directly before má-ĝiš-dù-a-bi lagaš.KI-šè and ob-
viously refers to lumber shipments to Lagaš from Magan, Meluḫḫa, Gubin and
Dilmun. To repeat, the verb gú ĝiš – ĝál only occurs in conjunction with the tim-
ber-furnishing lands and only in the context of construction supply in the royal
texts, never with the obvious meaning of “subjugate” or “submit,” for which var-
ious other terms are employed – gú – ĝar, ĝiri-ni-še – ĝar (E1.9.3.2, 11, 1.9.4.9,
7–8, E3/2.1.4.1, ii.4). The neck-stock for a defeated enemy is an Akkadian custom
20
Gregoricka, 2011: 34.
21
Hansman, 1973: 556–557; Michaux-Colombot, 2011: 209.
22
Ni. 2126+4178 (ISET 1 211) / Ni. 13208 (ISET 1 212), treated by Michalowski, 1988.
23
Landsberger, 1957: 109.
24
E1.9.1.2 l, 4–6; E1.9.1.5, 5–6; probably E1.9.1.6A, ii.11 ff.; E1.9.1.17, v.3–5; E1.9.1.20,
iv.1–3; E1.9.1.22, 16–18; E1.9.1.23, 16–18; E1.9.1. 25, 1–3.
234 John Dayton
signified by the term gišsi-ĝar and inflicted in much more brutal circumstances
than those of the Sumerian building texts (E2.1.1.1, 27).
Ur-Nanše’s formula implies that the timber did not originate in the lands of
the merchant ships which supplied it. Accepting Dilmun as Tarout Island or other
points around Bahrain, this locale is no more likely to supply lumber than is south-
east Arabia, so Dilmun’s ships are merely the carriers. But in this formula we find
only the phrase kur-ta. In the Gudean passage we find kur-bi-ta, where the added
pronoun makes all the difference. The wood is from the local mountains, and Ma-
gan is not a mere lumber depot.25 It may be significant that in this passage, Dilmun
does not appear; where it is, such as in Statue D mentioned above (E3/1.1.7.StD,
7–11), the kur-bi-ta is absent. Conceivably Gudea’s scribes simply were mistaken
or indifferent regarding the original provenance of the timber, but that would be
a gratuitous assertion. The persistent coupling of Magan and wood in our sources
strongly suggests a forested land.
The misukannu wood of Magan is generally identified as Dalbergia sissoo, the
sissoo or North Indian rosewood of southern Iran and the Indian subcontinent.26
Remains of this wood have been found at Tell Abraq, a sizeable Bronze Age
coastal city in current Sharjah Emirate of the UAE, to which it was imported.27
The wood returns in Neo-Babylonian times, when Nebuchadnezzar mentions its
use in the rebuilding of Esaĝila,28 and it is prominent in several Achaemenid in-
scriptions, where it is written as gišMEŠ.MÁ.GAN.NA in the Akkadian versions
of DSz (line 14) and DSf (lines 24–25). The latter text also reveals its origin:
[gišMEŠ].MÁ.GAN.NA šá a-gan-na ip-šu ul-tu kurGan-da-ri u kur[Kar-ma-na] na-
šá-a, “the Magan-wood used here was brought from Gandara and Carmania.”29
The name Carmania is reliably restored on the basis of the Elamite version (lines
31–32), which provides a clear reading30 and which renders Magan-wood as gišia-
ka4-um following the Old Persian yaka. Darius was thus bringing his wood of
Magan from regions of current Iran and Pakistan, and Gudea was likely to have
been doing the same. Although several stands were reported in Jebel Akhdar
wadis in 1975, the sissoo is not considered indigenous to Arabia,31 and wadi
growth would not support the major logging industry suggested in the Lagaš and
Achaemenid texts. In contrast to the desiccation of Arabia, medieval accounts tell
us of great lion-haunted Iranian forests once surrounding Jiroft in Kerman prov-
ince as well as nearby Jabal Bariz, along with silver mines in the vicinity.32
25
Pace Hawley, 1970: 37–38; Laursen / Steinkeller, 2017, 7.
26
Mellowan, 1965: 4; Tengberg, 2002: 77; Tavernier, 2020: 353.
27
Potts, 2000: 67; Tengberg, 2002: 75–77.
28
Langdon, DNK Nebukadnezar nr. 15, col. II.31, 124.
29
Tavernier, 2020: 357.
30
The tablet is reproduced in Vallat, 1970: 153.
31
Tengberg, 2002: 75–77.
32
Le Strange, 1905: 315–316.
On the Logistical Probabilities of Maništušu’s ‘Magan’ Campaign 235
33
Leemans, 1960: 21.
34
Leemans, 1960: 26; Hansman, 1973: 556, 559, 581–582.
35
Landsberger, 1957: 151.
36
“… διόπερ οὔθ᾽ οἱ τῶν Περσῶν βασιλεῖς ὕστερον οὔθ᾽ οἱ τῶν Μακεδόνων, καίπερ
πλεῖστον ἰσχύσαντες, ἠδυνήθησαν τοῦτο τὸ ἔθνος καταδουλώσασθαι. καθόλου γὰρ ἡ
Ἀραβία δυσπολέμητός ἐστι ξενικαῖς δυνάμεσι διὰ τὸ τὴν μὲν ἔρημον αὐτῆς εἶναι, τὴν δὲ
ἄνυδρον καὶ διειλημμένην φρέασι κεκρυμμένοις καὶ μόνοις τοῖς ἐγχωρίοις γνωριζομέ-
νοις.”
236 John Dayton
37
Arrian, Anabasis 6.15–28.
38
As observed by Hansman, 1973: 559.
39
Eilers, 1983: 104–105; Salles, 1990: 114; Laursen / Steinkeller, 2017: 6–7.
40
BM 91026, Cylinder A, Col. 1, ll 51–52.
41
History of Esarhaddon, reverse ll. 11–12; see Budge, 1880: 120–121.
42
This text is treated by Albright, 1925, and another version, BM 6438,2 by Grayson,
1974–1977.
On the Logistical Probabilities of Maništušu’s ‘Magan’ Campaign 237
tended.43 The traditional solution offered by Landsberger has been thought excep-
tional, that is, that the Assyrian scribes had as it were dusted off the names Magan
and Meluḫḫa found in archaic documents and transposed them to a different lo-
cality.44 But the conjecture may be warranted in this case, where no non-excep-
tional solution suggests itself.45 We must believe either that such a transposition
indeed took place, or that the earlier Akkadian scribes did not know their geogra-
phy, or that a remarkable pair of homonyms existed between the southerly Gulf
and Africa (the solution offered by Albright, that we must in fact place Bronze
Age Magan by the Red Sea in Africa, Sinai, and northwest Arabia, has not gained
wide acceptance).46 Little less perplexing is Magan’s relationship to the Achae-
menid Maka (with its ethnonym Maciyā) and to the modern Makran region. These
forms are rendered qa-di-eki (DSaa line 31) or qa-du-ú (DSe line 16) in the Bab-
ylonian versions of Darius’ inscriptions, and if this place corresponds to Sargonic
Magan, we can only speculate how its original name, misplaced in Babylonians
and Assyrians, was retained in Persia. The temptation is to derive this term from
the Semitic root signifying “East, sunrise; ancient or primordial; in front, before,”
seen in the Akkadian qadmu/qudmû, Hebrew qedem, Arabic qadīm, all of this
leaving us little the wiser.47 We should note that Qade is not the only term for
Magan in Achaemenid Babylonian. The reading Ma-ak often given for DB I, 7
(the Behistun Inscription), is a restoration: “ma-ak: Perhaps should be restored
qa-du-ú as in DNa 19, but there would be spacing difficulties”;48 but the Akkadian
version of XPh gives a clear ma-ak for Magan (line 19; Old Persian has maciyā,
line 25; Elamite ma-zí-ia, line 20). A link with modern Oman has been made on
the strength of an inscription (AAA 20) placed by Ashurbanipal in Nineveh’s
temple of Ishtar. The text records the tribute brought by a distant king after a six-
months’ voyage: mpa-de-e LUGAL KUR qa-de-e ša ina URU iz-ke-e aš-bu
(“Padê king of the land of Qadê, dwelling in the city of Izkê”). Some authorities
maintain a connection between Izke and the ancient town of Izki in northeast
Oman, e.g., Potts writes; “Pade’s capital, Iz-ki-e, moreover, is easily identified
with the central Omani town of Izki, long claimed to be the ‘oldest’ town in Oman
… Since the Sultanate of Oman and the United Arab Emirates share one and the
same landmass as well as the same archaeological cultures, there is no doubt that
the names Magan, Makkan, Maka and Makkash applied equally to the entire re-
43
Egypt is favored by Albright (1925: 238), followed by Michaux-Colombot (2001: 345);
Grayson, (1974–1977: 58) places Magan east of Akkad.
44
Michaux-Colombot, 2001: 329–332.
45
Evidence favoring such a toponymic shift is given by Gelb, 1970: 7–8.
46
Albright, 1925: 238–240, followed by Michaux-Colombot, 2001; the objections are enu-
merated in Gelb, 1970: 7–8.
47
This Semitic root has even been associated with ancient Greek Thebes through the city’s
mythical founder Kadmos of Tyre.
48
Benedict / Voigtlander, 1956: 5.
238 John Dayton
49
Potts, 2000: 56.
50
Del Cerro Linares, 2013: 52–53; see also 59.
51
See H. M. I. M. Aboul-Enein (2022), “Makoraba, Mochorba & Maka Revisited: A Geo-
Linguistic Perspective”, unpublished MS: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/
358647117_Makoraba_Mochorba_Maka_Revisited_A_Geo-Linguistic_Perspective.
52
Maka has also been identified with Mocha (Mukhā) in Yemen; see RE (Realency-
clopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft) 14.1: 615, Makai (Grohmann, 1928).
53
E.g., Eilers, 1983: 107–108.
54
Aulus Gellius 9.3.1.
55
Strabo 10.4.10; Bianor and Adaeus in Anthologia Graeca 7.49 and 7.51.
On the Logistical Probabilities of Maništušu’s ‘Magan’ Campaign 239
56
Strabo 16.3.2, Pliny Nat. Hist 6.26.98, Pomponius Mela 3.68, Ptolemy Geography
6.7.14, Priscian Periegesis 887 and elsewhere; Ammianus Marcellinus has Maces,
23.6.10.
57
RE (Realencyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft) 14.1: 615, Makai (Groh-
mann, 1928).
58
Strabo 4.175.12; Diodorus 3.49.1, Pseudo-Scylax Periplus 109; Ptolemy Geography
4.3.27; as Macae, Pliny, Nat. Hist. 5.5.34.
59
Eilers regards the my- of Mykoi as the labialized form of ma- (1983: 102). Without
further information I consider this conjectural; in Greek, at least, parallels for such a vowel
shift are lacking.
60
It is maintained in Hansman, 1973; Thapar, 1975; partly in Eilers, 1983 as well as in
many early works, but becomes rarer in more recent studies. Laursen / Steinkeller, 2017
provide no new evidence for the location, offering a broad range of geographical possibil-
ity: “To use Makkan as a specific example, it is likely that . . . this name indeed describes,
from the Babylonian perspective, the Oman peninsula and the coastal area immediately to
the west of it. This is strongly indicated by the fact that Makkan was consistently thought
by the ancients to be a source of copper and diorite, both of which are found in Oman. At
the same time, it is possible that Makkan also had a broader sense in which it designated
the coastal region of Iran along the Strait of Hormuz and perhaps even of the western
section of Baluchistan as well” (6–7). We have seen that the presence of copper and diorite
is insufficient to identify a specific location. See also p. 33.
240 John Dayton
Magan texts.61 A location in the Oman Peninsula cannot be ruled out, but the con-
sensus for an Arabian Magan has acquired a firmness disproportionate to the sup-
porting evidence.
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ben. Berlin, 101–119.
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and the Consolidation of Akkadian Kingship.” American Journal of Archae-
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242 John Dayton
Massimo Maiocchi*
1. Introduction
An administrative system, be it ancient or modern, does not exist in a void – it is
deeply conditioned by environmental, technological, and social factors. Ac-
cordingly, it is only through an interdisciplinary approach that takes in due con-
sideration the complexity of human interactions with its ecological premises that
one may make sense of the problem of administration in antiquity, especially
when it comes to the management of alimentary items. The foundations for such
study have already been laid in the past 50 years, thanks to important contributions
tackling the questions from various angles.1 Still, the topic of administration,
broadly understood, remains a hot one nowadays, due to constant advancement in
methodologies for landscape archaeology, artifact analysis, and the ever increas-
ing amount of epigraphic data available to modern scholars. For reasons of per-
sonal competence and in the interest of time, the scope of the present contribution
is limited to the interplay of technological aspects, written records and adminis-
trative patterns, mostly belonging to late third millennium BCE southern Meso-
potamia.2 More in detail, the impetus for this paper came from the recognition
that the terminology involved in the cuneiform sources dealing with alimentary
items is rich and poorly studied.
*
CNRS Nanterre.
1
The literature is vast, see many contributions in Lipiński, 1978; Zaccagnini, 1981, in turn
drawing on Weber and his school; Gibson / Biggs, 1991; Brosius, 2003.
2
The primary sources one may study are in fact not merely linguistic in nature: evidence
from the archaeological record, such as cretulae from the prehistoric period onward, pro-
vide us with a complementary set of data very relevant to such an inquiry (Fiandra / Fran-
gipane, 2007). Architectural analysis is also very important, in order to achieve a better
idea of how the facilities for the processing and storage of primary production worked in
antiquity, with special reference to the spaces where the distribution of food and commod-
ities occurred.
244 Massimo Maiocchi
3
For an understanding of santana-officials in terms of garden managers within the provin-
cial administration system see Greco, 2015: 88–114; 292–297. See Greco, 2015: 44 for
nu-ĝeškiri6 as a designation of skilled personnel perfoming work in gardens. On gardens
see further Focke, 2015.
Accounting for Alimentary Items in Third Millennium Southern Mesopotamia 245
3. The bureau acknowledges the request, and produces the tablet under present
scrutiny: its immediate function is to explain, in case of inspection, the fact
that 3 gur of dates are not at hand anymore. The now missing dates are also
supposed to be annotated on a waxed wooden board, but for some reason this
turns out to be impossible.
4. Finally, the e2-kišib3-ba sends Ur-mes as intermediary in the shipment of dates
to ⸢x⸣. In turn, ⸢x⸣ will deliver the items to Šulgi-iriĝu.
Some comments on the individual points outlined above are in order.
1. We do have at hand the primary sources concerning income of dates.4 Contrary
to UET 3 1097, the amounts of dates in such records are not rounded up or
down.
2. The man operating on behalf of Šulgi-iriĝu should have with him a mean to
verify his identity, as well as the one of Šulgi-iriĝu – ideally in the form of a
sealed document, which however has not been recovered from excavation.
3. This and similar documents have also a long-term function, as primary sources
for the redaction of balance accounts covering several years, or for the estimate
on production for the years to come.
4. If this reconstruction of the events is correct, it is conceivable that the full set
of documents involved in the delivery of dates included: sealed cretulae on
dates containers to be opened by the e2-kišib3-ba official in order to get the
dates in the storage area; the original request of dates by Šulgi-iriĝu; a docu-
ment proving that ⸢x⸣ (be it a PN or institution) acts on the behalf of Šulgi-
iriĝu (this may be in the form of a cylinder seal, a sealed document, or the
like); tags attached to the actual dates containers, stating the provenance and
exact amount of the items being shipped, and possibly mentioning Ur-mes as
well. Although this is not stated in the present text, copies of the documents
issued to the recipient may be produced in the e2-kišib3-ba as well, as stated in
another tablet from the same archive.5
A question may arise at this point: why did the scribe produce a document with
both incoming and outgoing items in the first place? The answer is that this prac-
tice must be useful for accounting purposes, namely to keep track of goods whose
data are to be entered in the waxed wooden boards containing running accounts.6
In fact, the colophon of UET 3 1097 implies that such boards were regularly used
as accounting tools in daily scribal practice. When this very tablet was written
down, something unexpected must have happened, prompting the writer to be
more explicit than usual on the nature of the procedure.
4
See for instance BBVO 11, 279, income (mu-kux(DU)) of [x]+4 gur and 150 sila of dates
from Ur-Baba, sealed.
5
SAT 3, 2027, l.e.: gaba-ri kišib3 ga-ti-e.
6
Cf. Jursa, 2004: 179 wn 79 for a similar conclusion based on first millennium evidence.
246 Massimo Maiocchi
7
Cammarosano et al., 2019: 129–130. The interpretation rests on the identification of the
associated styli as spatulae, as well as on the fact that the boards bear an architectural plan,
which is in agreement with textual information (see infra).
8
As in the famous ivory boards from Nimrud, dated to the eight century BCE (Camma-
rosano et al., 2019: 153–154). As a substance, wax was known in Mesopotamia at least
since the Sargonic period, as one may infer from the fact that the bronze statues of Sargonic
kings were in fact made using the lost wax process. However, no evidence from such pe-
riod points to the use of wax for other purposes, most notably as a writing medium. Indeed,
the very word for wax – Akkadian iškurum, possibly a foreign word, also written logo-
graphically as LAL3.HUR e GABA.LAL3 in Old Babylonian sources – never occurs in
textual sources from before the Ur III period (see most recently Molina / Steinkeller, 2023:
29–30 with previous references). Of course, one may imagine that the substance used in
the boards was not actualy wax, but a surrogate (Steinkeller, 2004: 76 wn 18) – this is
however not relevant for the present discussion. Experimental results by Cammarosano et
al., 2019: 157 show that the use of tallow is excluded, but this does not rule out other
options.
Accounting for Alimentary Items in Third Millennium Southern Mesopotamia 247
occurs in the colophon of two tablets, namely MVN 11, 93 (BDTNS 24222,
P116107) rev. 17 and ASJ 19, 138 122 (BDTNS 44687, P102679) rev. ii 10. Both
documents record data concerning subsistence plots (šuku du3-du3-a), which are
told to have been transferred from the waxed wooden board (le-um-ta dib-ba).
The action presumably implies that the information on such devices was subse-
quently erased.
3.3.2 As credit
The verb for entering information as credit is tur = Akk. ṣeḫēru, whose basic
meaning is “to be small”. Again, the term must be interpreted in technical context
as “to count as credit” (CAD Ṣ, 120–121), i.e. in complementary sense to ĝar (see
above 3.3.1). It is attested in MVN 11, 91 (BDTNS 24220; CDLI P116105), rev.
3: (land) deducted (as credit) from the waxed wooden board (le-um-ta mu2-a im-
9
Verbal forms belonging to *škn and *šṭr alternate in mathematical texts from later periods
as well. There, the former root may also have a precise technical meaning, but its nature
remains difficult to ascertain (Høyrup, 1990: 57–58).
10
Also “to add to”, and (mostly in the stative) “to be present, exist, be available, to be
located at a certain spot”. In addition, one notes the existence of the expression ina
ṭuppi/kanīki šakānum, which is comparable with the above mentioned expression le-um-
ma … ĝar.
248 Massimo Maiocchi
11
For a different interpretation see most recently Zimmerman, 2022: 41 (size of land being
reduced).
12
Here I intentionally avoid the translation “(clay) tablet” for DUB, which is commonly
found in Assyriological literature. The reason is that DUB may refer not only to clay tab-
lets, but to different inscribed objects as well, depending on the textual corpus where it
occurs, as well as on context, an analysis of which is beyond the purpose of this paper.
The disambiguation between the possible readings of DUB as dub and kišib3 “seal, sealed
document” is also often difficult, and it must be made on a case by case basis, therefore
further complicating analysis. In this regard, it must be stressed that the current under-
standing of DUB as either dub “clay tablet” or kišib3 “seal” is flawed by a tertium non
datur fallacy. A cursory overview of the evidence from the Sargonic period onwards in
fact reveals that DUB may refer to any type of inscribed artifact or medium (see prelimi-
narly examples quoted in CAD Ṭ, 129 ff. s.v. ṭuppu A). This fact allows for a broader
meaning for DUB, in terms of “document” or “insciption” of any kind, including those on
perishable media. On the basis of this simple (albeit often neglected) evidence, an in-depth
re-analysis of all occurrences of this term is needed, in order to avoid the risk of cyrcular
arguments and unwarranted assumptions. The present contribution is agnostic in such re-
spect, therefore maintaining DUB as preferred reading.
13
See for instance: SNAT 506 rev. 4 (fields): im-bi nu-ḫa-la nu-gi-in; SANTAG 6 115
rev. 6: im tug2-ba e2-gal-ka nu-ub-gi-in.
14
In terms such as “account” (niĝ2-ka9), “capital amount” (saĝ), and “balance section”
(ugu2), see for instance: UET 3 295 obv 5: DUB-ba-ni nu-ta-tur; SNAT 390 rev 2: niĝ2-
ka9 ak-bi nu-u3-ta-tur; ASJ 2, 20 58: rev. 11: ⸢ugu2⸣-a nu-u3!(DIB-)ĝar; BBVO 11, 299,
6N-T827: rev. 1: niĝ2-ka9 nu-u3-ĝar; BPOA 6, 1293 obv. 6: saĝ-bi nu-u3-ĝar-še3.
15
MacGinnis, 2002: 223–227; Jursa, 2004: 174–178.
Accounting for Alimentary Items in Third Millennium Southern Mesopotamia 249
port;16 3) its writing surface may be extended adding further “leaves” to a polyp-
ticon;17 4) one may seal a very long document contained in a polypticon with a
single seal, instead of having several tablets to be individually sealed. Of course,
clay tablets are also easy to transport and under the right conditions remain
writeable, but these two properties do not happen at the same time – if one is to
carry a tablet while still wet chances are that the readability of inscription might
be affected. The above-mentioned characteristics make waxed boards ideal for
running accounts and field surveys, as attested in cuneiform sources. On the down
side, it must be noted that wax in the late third millennium BCE was a quite ex-
pensive commodity, albeit well within the fiscal capacity of Ur III administra-
tion.18 However, the potential re-usability of waxed boards may contribute in low-
ering the final cost. The fact that access to wax was limited may actually be used
as an argument in favor of its adoption for official purposes, as it was arguably
harder to produce a fake le-um than a fake clay tablet, but this remains speculative.
4. Conclusions
Although the very introduction of le-um boards in Gudea’s time seems intimately
connected to architectural drawing rather than writing down administrative data,
the use of such devices within Ur III bureaucracy appears to be restricted to the
annotation of primary production and related matters, i.e. alimentary items and
subsistence land. The reason perhaps lies in the fact that such information is more
prone to changes of contingent nature, therefore forcing administration to fre-
quently update its global records. Of course, generalizations should to be avoided
when dealing with accountable systems in antiquity, as each archive shows its
own features and quirks. However, it seems that by the very end of the third mil-
lennium BCE bureaucracy in southern Babylonia entered a phase characterized
by a continuous mode of accounting, long time reporting to a higher authority
(possibly indefinitely), as well as a punctual mode of control, meaning that each
person in the operational chain has to justify its activities on the spot, if need be,
on the basis of official documents. The new accounting mode makes sense only
on the premises hinted at in the beginning of this paper: without the long process
of selection of alimentary items suitable for long term storage, and the develop-
ment of technologies for food processing such system can’t possibly develop. A
system that aims at tracing every single step in the movement of products does so
not only in order to maximize efficiency, but also to avoid frauds, which were
perhaps the norm. Cultural factors may thus contribute significantly in the estab-
lishment of an intensified administration, as outcome of the long term interactions
16
As noted by Zimmermann, 2022: 7, 42 wn 69.
17
A set of 18 dyptich boards (ĝešli2-u3) is attested for instance in PPAC 5 400 obv. 3.
18 1
/2 shekel of silver for 1 mina of wax, as noted by Volk, 1994: 284.
250 Massimo Maiocchi
between the urban phenomenon and its landscape, which started more than a mil-
lennium earlier, in the Uruk period.
The introduction of waxed wooden boards at the end of the third millennium
BCE must be framed as a technological response to the need of such an intensified
bureaucracy. The same is probably true for other innovations brought about by
the Ur III dynasty, such as the frequent use of envelopes, and seal impressions on
clay tablets, which is a huge topic which would require more space than it is here
permitted. Suffices to say that without such developments the system probably
loses an important boost and a sharp mean of control, reverting to a looser regime,
as for instance the one in use during the Sargonic period. In turn, le-um boards
must be framed in a larger bureaucratic space, whose material culture reflects the
complicatedness of human social relationships. Although many features of the Ur
III administrative system were already operative in the Early Dynastic period, it
is only in the last century of the third millennium BCE that administration appears
not only mature, but also robust in terms of dealing with possible issues. This is
achieved by technological innovations, introduction of new procedures, as well as
by an increased redundancy in document production, especially when it comes to
the administration of alimentary items.
Finally, the use of waxed boards brings about cognitive implications as well:
the ease of adding, removing, and replacing information in such devices impacts
on the practitioner’s vision of the administrative world. Fictional as it may be, this
deeply interpreted reality results in a much more dynamic entity, compared to the
fixity of records on clay and other media. Whereas the perception of past admin-
istrative events was certainly strong since the very introduction of writing and
accounting, it is only in the late third millennium BCE that the present dimension
of accountable procedures emerges with clarity to the eyes of the administrators,
as in a constantly up-to-date snapshot of what goes in and out of their sphere of
competence. In it, I see a huge leap forward in the long process of externalization
of human thought. The ability of creating indexes and conceptual bridges within
live data was essential to navigate the complex layers of administration in the Ur
III period, as it is in our own society.
This project has received funding from the European Union’s Horizon 2020
research and innovation program under the Marie Skłodowska-Curie grant
agreement No 882257.
Les travaux de recherche qui ont générés ces résultats ont été soutenus
financièrement par le programme Horizon 2020 dans le cadre de la con-
vention de subvention n° 882257
Bibliography
Brosius, M., 2003 (ed.): Ancient Archives and Archival Traditions: Concepts of
Record-Keeping in the Ancient World. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Accounting for Alimentary Items in Third Millennium Southern Mesopotamia 251
1. Introduction
The global health and social crises that emerged as a result of the COVID-19 out-
break from the end of 2019 onward paved the way for major changes in modern
urban civilization. Many health (and social) crises have affected urban society
over time. One of the most significant crises in ancient times was the Antonine
plague, which broke out in the late second century AD. This took place in Meso-
potamia during the Parthian campaign led by Roman emperor Lucius Verus at the
end of 165 AD or at the beginning of the following year. It quickly spread to Rome
through soldiers who returned from the East and perhaps lasted until the 180s or
190s AD, with another outbreak in 189 AD (Littman / Littman, 1973: 243; Dun-
can-Jones, 2018: 43, 48–50).
How have human beings confronted the chain of health crises from ancient to
modern times? Have there been no ways to prevent the occurrence and spread of
such crises? To answer these questions, we must read historical documents and
*
This article is a revised version of the paper presented at 67th RAI, titled “Disease, Fam-
ine, and Human Trafficking: Health and Social Crisis Recorded in the Late Babylonian
Astronomical Diaries.” The paper is also a revised English version of “Health and Social
Crises in the Late Babylonian Astronomical Diaries.” In Sh. Yamada (ed.): The Essence
of Urban Civilization: An Interdisciplinary Study of the Origin and Transformation of An-
cient West Asian Cities, vol. 3. Tsukuba: Research Center for West Asian Civilization. Pp.
113–116 (in Japanese; Mitsuma, 2021). This present study was funded by JSPS KA-
KENHI Grant Number JP22K00921. I thank the Trustees of the British Museum for al-
lowing me to study and photograph the tablet of –107C (BM 45750 + 45983 + 45984). I
thank Rhonda McGovern, Reinhard Pirngruber, and Robartus J. (Bert) van der Spek for
their feedback on my manuscript. I thank Editage (www.editage.com) for English lan-
guage editing. Any and all remaining errors in this paper are, of course, mine. I will include
the diaries recently published in ADART 4 in my discussion of 108/107 BC and other
health crises in a later publication.
Each Babylonian year begins in the spring and ends in the spring of the next Julian year. I
thus use two consecutive Julian year numbers for one Babylonian year in this paper. For
example, 108/107 BC is the Babylonian year 204 SE (Seleucid Era). Babylonian month
names (Nisan, Ayyar, etc.) are abbreviated with Roman numerals (I, II …) in this paper.
254 Yasuyuki Mitsuma
analyze information on the crises. This analysis combines the conditions of human
societies and environmental parameters of the same period. Late Babylonian As-
tronomical Diaries are an ideal cuneiform source for such analysis. A tablet of
“Short” and “Standard” diaries collects historical accounts, daily reports of the
sky, price lists of commodities, and river level reports of the Euphrates for a cer-
tain period in a single tablet.1 Many diary tablets were derived from the fourth to
mid-first centuries BC. These records can help us understand historical crises and
their environmental backgrounds and social influences from late Achaemenid to
early Arsacid Babylonia. In this contribution, I will clarify the process of the
health-social crisis recorded in the diaries from 108/107 BC and discuss the cause
of this social disorder (or the aggravation of economic crisis as its part).
2. Crisis of 108/107 BC
I summarized the historical accounts concerning disease (plague), famine, mass
deaths, and human trafficking (as an indicator of a difficult social condition) from
the diaries published in ADART 1–3 in Mitsuma, 2021: 114, Table 1. Grainger
thought that mentions of diseases in the diaries seemed to represent the most ob-
vious, or large-scale, epidemics in the Babylon area, as references were made to
them only occasionally in the diaries before the Arsacid Period,2 and there were
not so many references from the Arsacid Period. Mitsuma, 2021: 114, Table 1
lists 10 entries on diseases from the Neo-Babylonian to the Seleucid diaries (dated
from 568/567 to 144/143 BC) and 11 entries from the Arsacid diaries (dated from
125/124 to 84/83 BC). The diaries show that a significant crisis took place in
108/107 BC. Among the 34 entries in the table, nine came from 108/107 BC
(Mitsuma, 2021: 114, Table 1, Nos 22–30) and five to seven among them con-
cerned some diseases (including rabies). I have revised and presented these nine
entries in English in Table 1. The entry numbers are recounted from 1 here, in-
stead of from 22 in the former table.
1
Mitsuma, 2015: 53–55.
2
Grainger, 1999: 320: n31.
Health and Social Crises in 108/107 BC 255
The diary tablets from 108/107 BC are numbered –107x (the aforementioned en-
tries are cited from B, C, or D). The term “–107” represents the astronomical year
to which the larger part of 108/107 BC (204 SE) belongs. According to the astro-
nomical year dating system, 1 BC becomes 0 and 2 BC becomes –1. Thus, 108
BC becomes –107. Capital letters are attached to the numbers of tablets from the
same year (A, B, C, etc.). The alphabetical arrangement is made according to the
chronological order of the coverage of tablets. Among the three tablets shown in
the table, –107B covers the earliest portion of 108/107 BC. The condition of each
tablet is shown according to the method described in ADART 1: 38. For example,
“ ’Obv.’ ” indicates that the top and bottom of the obverse of the tablet were
damaged and lost.
Babylon and Babylonia faced many difficulties in 108/107 BC. –107C ’Rev.
15’ reports thus: “That year, there were no rains and floods.”5 Many people
seemed to have suffered a disease (GIG) in Month VI according to No. 1. While
Biggs suggested that some attestations of sick people (lúGIGme / lúGIG) recovering
3
The transliteration with a partial copy of this sentence (ADART 3:368) can be read as
follows: I[TI BI] GIG ⸢i?-⸣na? KUR G[IM? IGI-ú] (I checked my photograph of the tablet).
The last three signs are estimated from the similar (or identical) sentence in –107C ’Rev.
21’ (No. 9).
4
The transliteration of this part: ⸢x⸣ ana (ADART 3:370) may be emended as: ⸢i?-na⸣, if my
reading of ⸢i?-⸣na? in –107C ’Rev. 2’ (No. 7, see note 3) is correct (I checked my photo-
graph of the tablet at this point).
5
I owe this translation of KUDmeš to Bert van der Spek.
256 Yasuyuki Mitsuma
in the diaries (–368 ’Rev.’ 8’; –366A col. ii 10) may reflect recovery from ergot-
ism or other kinds of mycotoxicoses,6 the identity of the disease (GIG) of Nos. 1,
6, 7, and 9 is uncertain. In Month VIII, something ([….] ⸢x⸣ tú) spread around
Babylonia according to No. 2. ⸢x⸣ seems to represent a vertical stroke at the left
end of the copy of BM 34707 (–107D1) 17’ (ADART 3: pl. 261), and the damaged
part can be reconstructed as […. ri-š]u-tú.7 If this reconstruction is correct, this
entry mentions the spread of rišûtu disease, which was a kind of skin disease or
itch (relating to rašû B, “to itch”) according to CAD R: 381–382, s.v. rišûtu; 207,
s.v. rašû B. AHw: 989–990, s.v. rišûtu[m], rišītum connects rišûtu (rišītu) with
rašû II “rot sein” (AHw: 962, s.v. rašû II) and offers the meaning “‘Rötung’; eine
Hautkrankheit” to rišûtu (rišītu). Scurlock / Andersen, 2005: 210–211, s.v.
RIŠŪTU thought that rišūtu “redness” may encourage continual scratching of the
affected area. Precise identification of this disease remains difficult. Kämmerer,
1995: 159 argues that the word rišītu (rišûtu) matched the scarlet exanthem of
smallpox and Finkel, 2000: 152 suggests that “an outbreak of eczema or psoriasis”
is described with rišûtu. However, both identifications are criticized by Scurlock
/ Andersen, 2005: 717nn 15, 17.
No. 6 mentions a disease in Month IX, although fragmentally. Nos. 7 and 9
probably mention a disease (GIG) that spread in Babylonia successively in
Months XI and XII. No. 5 reports that dogs became mad and died in Month IX.
No. 8 in Month XI seems to be a report of the same kind. Del Monte, 1997: 157
translated the damaged sentence of –107D ’Rev.’ 20’ as follows: “[… molti cani]
furono colti da rabbia e morirono.”
Socioeconomic conditions in that year were also abnormal. No. 3 informs us
of a lamentation in a city (URU), probably Babylon.8 No. 4 mentions that the sale
(probably of barley) was interrupted in Babylon. Nos. 3 and 4 were recorded in
the barley price reports of Month IX. The recorded barley price, equivalent to one
shekel of silver, also indicated a problematic situation. The equivalent of barley
on IX.29 and 30 was recorded as 27 qa or liters (–107D ’Obv.’ 33’). A compre-
hensive table of commodity prices in the diaries (van der Spek, 2005) shows some
barley equivalents in Month IX from the Arsacid Period, as shown in Table 2.
6
Biggs, 1991: 19–20.
7
The word appears several times in the diaries: ri-šu-tú (–567 Obv.’ 7; –143A ’Flake’
21’); ri-šu-tu (–382 ’Obv.’ 13’); ri-šu[-tú] (–105A ’Obv.’ 46’).
8
Babylon is sometimes identified as URU “the city” in the diaries (Stevens, 2019: 222:
n37).
Health and Social Crises in 108/107 BC 257
The date of the value for 76/75 BC is uncertain because the tablet of –75 was
severely damaged. However, the other values are certainly from the same Baby-
lonian month. This means that they can be treated as data from approximately the
same season. For example, Month IX of 125/124 BC covers December 7/8, 125
BC–January 4/5, 124 BC.9 Month IX of 108/107 BC covers November 29/30–
December 28/29, 108 BC.10
Among this data group, the equivalent 27 qa/shekel is a close value to the low-
est one, 20–20.5 qa from 125/124 BC (a “low” equivalent means a high price).
The table in van der Spek, 2005 and the graph in Pirngruber, 2016: 351, fig. 1 also
show a small peak in barley prices from Months IX to XII of 108/107 BC (27–40
qa/shekel). Pirngruber (2014: 178–179) explained that the high price of barley in
108/107 BC was possibly because of the locust invasion in Month II, 109/108 BC
(–108A ’Obv.’ 27’). The price of barley rose from 109/108 BC and continued to
rise in the first half of 108/107 BC,11 but there seems to be a clear difference
between the equivalents in Months VII and IX, 108/107 BC (51 against 27 qa /
shekel) and the latter is recorded (–107D ’Obv.’ 33’) after the sale interruption
until IX.22 (No. 4). We cannot explain this gap as a result of the locust invasion.
The high barley prices in the 120s BC were synchronized with the threat of
Arab-Bedouins (Haruta, 1998: 188, 191 n18) and were probably related to the
crisis they caused (Pirngruber, 2016: 350). They were called Arbāya in the diaries;
they became hostile, plundered, and blocked traffic in Babylonia from the mid-
120s to 110s BC or later.12 The diary of 126/125 BC mentions the wandering of
Arabs in the land (–125A Obv. 21). The Arabs surrounded all of Babylonia, and
the city gates of Babylon were shut for many days in 123/122 BC (–122D ’Rev.’
9
ADART 3: 280.
10
ADART 3: 376.
11
See van der Spek, 2005 and Pirngruber, 2014: 179, tab. 8.14.
12
For the Arabs’ attestations in the diaries, see Pirngruber, 2016: 348–349, tab. 1.
258 Yasuyuki Mitsuma
9’–10’). Inhabitants of Babylon fled from the city after being threatened by the
Arabs in 119/118 BC (–118A Obv. 22). Although an (Arsacid) army defeated the
Arabs in 112/111 BC (–111B ’Rev.’ 11’–12’), they continued to plunder in
109/108 BC (–108B ’Rev. 20’). The crisis ended after 106/105 BC, when a group
of Arabs left to Seleucia on the Euphrates (–105A ’Rev. 22’–23’).13
Since the threat of the Arabs was coming to an end in 108/107 BC, we can say
that the health crisis of 108/107 BC was the major cause of the aggravation of
economic crisis, which appeared as the small peak of barley price in late 108/107
BC. The economic crisis seemed to have spread at a wider scale at the end of that
year. The diary of Month XII (–107C ’Rev. 16’–21’) recorded a confiscation in
Esangil.14 A representative of Urōd, the Arsacid rab kumarī (chief priest) of the
temples, came from Media to Babylon and took away some sacred items, such as
the sissoo shield from Esangil, and returned to Media. Media is often mentioned
as a royal residence in the diaries of the Arsacid Period (–137A ’Rev.’ 9’–11’; –
136C ’Obv.’ 3’; –77A ’Obv. 31’). The “chief priest” probably served near the
king and dealt with the financial problems of temples within the Arsacid Empire
(Mitsuma, 2005). The Arsacid confiscation in 108/107 BC may reflect some fi-
nancial difficulties in the Arsacid court. The confiscation recalls the gifts, includ-
ing a crown of 1000 shekel of gold from Esangil, presented to Antiochus III in
Babylon (–187A ’Rev. 8’–10’). Roman Republic charged Antiochus with heavy
war indemnities by the Treaty of Apamea in 188 BC, and the gifts may be inter-
preted in light of his need for money.15
To understand the relationship between the health and economic crises in
108/107 BC more clearly, I include the price of barley at the end of the 110s and
100s BC in my analysis. Barley equivalents decreased over the long term from
112/111 BC (see Pirngruber, 2016: 351, fig. 1). The barley equivalents in Month
II, 112/111 BC, were 192 and 210 qa/shekel, whereas that in Month II, 109/108
BC, was 72–107 qa (see van der Spek, 2005). This may have been caused by the
locust invasion that month, and the rising prices until Month VII, 108/107 BC can
be interpreted as the result of autocorrelation (Pirngruber, 2014: 178–179). Arab’s
plunder, which took place in or before Month VII, 109/108 BC (–108B ’Rev. 20’),
may also have aggravated the crisis in this stage. However, the gap in the barley
equivalents between Months VII and IX (29 and 30), 108/107 BC (51 against 27
qa/shekel), the lamentation and anxiety in the city (of Babylon), and the sale in-
terruption (probably of barley) until Month IX.22 (Nos. 3–4) seem to constitute a
striking economic incident. We must remember that the health crisis took place in
or before Month VI and made progress toward the end of the year. We can judge
13
Seleucia on the Euphrates can be identified with Sippar or Nehardea (Lendering, 2020).
14
My interpretation of the part is shown in Mitsuma, 2009: 166–167.
15
For the interpretation of the gifts, see Boiy, 2004: 156.
Health and Social Crises in 108/107 BC 259
that the health crisis caused the lamentation and buyout of barley (resulting in the
sale interruption) in Month IX.16
The value of 27 qa in Month IX, 108/107 BC, was actually the bottom equiv-
alent in the 100s BC, but the barley equivalents only recovered slowly. The re-
stricted rains and floods that year may have delayed recovery and prolonged the
crisis. The barley equivalents in Month II, 106/105 BC, were 60–75 qa/shekel.
New barley appeared on the market for 72–107 qa/shekel between the 7th–13th,
but did not influence the trend across the month (see van der Spek, 2005). Further,
–105A ’Obv.’ 46’ records ekketu17 and rišûtu diseases in the land in Month III
and –105A Upper edge 2 records the “counting of the people of all lands” (ADART
3: 395) in Month VII of that year. These records may show the prolonged health
crisis of 108/107 BC and the reaction of the Arsacid royal court to the accom-
panying socioeconomic crisis in the empire.
3. Concluding remarks
We can conclude that the major cause of deterioration of the economic crisis,
which was abruptly aggravated in Month IX (108/107 BC), was the health crisis
from Month VI or earlier in that year.
Along with further analysis of the crisis of 108/107 BC (and later), I will study
the descriptions of other health and social crises recorded in the diaries to under-
stand the terms used for diseases more appropriately. A comprehensive analysis
of the health crises in the diaries with their socioeconomic and political environ-
ments and influences can clarify the characteristics of the diseases in ancient Bab-
ylonia and the urban environment in Babylon and the surrounding cities. It can
help understand the past of urban civilization and provide some clues for us when
considering our present and future attitudes toward health crises.
Abbreviations
ADART Sachs, A. J. / Hunger, H., 1988–2022: Astronomical Diaries and Re-
lated Texts from Babylonia, vols. 1–7. Vienna: Austrian Academy of
Sciences Press.
AHw von Soden, W., 1965–1981: Akkadisches Handwörterbuch, 3 vols.
Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz.
CAD Oppenheim, A.L. / Reiner, E. et al. (eds.): 1956–2010: The Assyrian
Dictionary of the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. Chi-
cago: The Oriental Institute.
16
I interpret the sale interruption (or its cause) as “buyout” by the suggestion of Bert van
der Spek.
17
The word ekketu “literally means ‘scratches’ and refers to severe itching leading to
scratching and secondary sores” (Scurlock / Andersen, 2005: 214, s.v. EKKETU).
260 Yasuyuki Mitsuma
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Biggs, R. D., 1991: “Ergotism and Other Mycotoxicoses in Ancient Mesopota-
mia?”. Aula Orientalis 9, 15–21.
Boiy, T., 2004: Late Achaemenid and Hellenistic Babylon. Louvain: Peeters.
Del Monte, G. F., 1997: Testi dalla Babilonia Ellenistica, vol.1: Testi Cronogra-
fici. Pisa: Istituti editoriali e poligrafici internazionali.
Duncan-Jones, R. P., 2018: “The Antonine Plague Revisited”. Arctos 52, 41–72.
Finkel, I. L., 2000: “On Late Babylonian Medical Training”. In A. R. George /
I. L. Finkel (eds.): Wisdom, Gods and Literature: Studies in Assyriology in
Honour of W. G. Lambert. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 137–223.
Grainger, J. D., 1999: “Prices in Hellenistic Babylonia”. Journal of the Economic
and Social History of the Orient 42, 303–325.
Haruta, S., 1998: “A Primary Source for the History of the Arshakid Parthia: As-
tronomical Diaries from 164 B.C. to 61 B.C.”. Bulletin of the Society for Near
Eastern Studies in Japan 41/2, 181–193 (in Japanese).
Kämmerer, Th. R., 1995: “Die erste Pockendiagnose stammt aus Babylonien”.
Ugarit-Forschungen 27, 129–168.
Lendering, J., 2020: “Seleucia on the Euphrates”. Livius.org. Last modified Au-
gust 14, 2020. https://www.livius.org/articles/place/seleucia-on-the-euphra
tes/.
Littman, R. J. / Littman, M. L., 1973: “Galen and the Antonine Plague”. The
American Journal of Philology 94/3: 243–255.
Mitsuma, Y. 2005: “Office of rab kumarī”. Nouvelles Assyriologiques Brèves et
Utilitaires 2005/4: 85–86.
— 2009: “Royal Officials and the City of Babylon in the Seleucid and Arsacid
Periods: A Study of ‘Diaries’”. Ph.D. Dissertation (University of Tokyo). doi:
https://doi.org/10.15083/00005618 (In Japanese).
— 2015: “From Preliminary Diaries to Short Diaries: The First and Second Steps
in the Compilation Process of the Late Babylonian Astronomical Diaries”.
SCIAMVS 16, 53–73.
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Interdisciplinary Study of the Origin and Transformation of Ancient West
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113–116 (In Japanese).
Pirngruber, R., 2014: “Plagues and Prices: Locusts”. In H. D. Baker / M. Jursa
(eds.): Documentary Sources in Ancient Near Eastern and Greco-Roman Eco-
nomic History: Methodology and Practice. Oxford: Oxbow Books, 163–186.
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Health and Social Crises in 108/107 BC 261
Luciana Urbano*
1. Introduction
The aim of this presentation is to propose a relational analysis focused on the
political and administrative practices of the elite women of the Mari palace during
the reign of Zimri-Lim (1775–1762 BC, Tell Hariri, Syria), based on the scheme
of spheres of influence. It is considered that this will allow us to visualize from a
different point of view the dynamics of power relations and the prominent role of
royal women in the administration of the state, especially the role of Yataraya,
wife of the king of Mari, in relation to the dispensations of wine and food for the
royal table.
The royal women of Mari have captured the attention of scholars for their
practices in relation to power that have been recorded in the Old Babylonian
sources of Mari.1 The eclipsing action of some of them, such as the queen Šiptu
and the queen mother Addu-dûrî, has left others in the shadows. Such is the case
of Yataraya. Nevertheless, the richness of the sources never ceases to surprise us,
and new editions and points of view introduce valuable contributions that invite
us to continue investigating.
Zimri-Lim will be related by marriage with two of the great kingdoms of the
time in search of political and military support. On the one hand, he reused in his
favor the alliance celebrated by Yasmah-Addu with Qaṭna incorporating Dâm-
hurâṣi as his main queen after the seizure of power and the women of the house
of the vanquished.2 Likewise, Aleppo will be the privileged ally of Zimri-Lim
supporting him in the seizure of power. In the year ZL 2[1’] the marriage with the
Aleppo’s princess Šiptu takes place.3
*
Centro de Estudios sobre Diversidad Cultural, Universidad Nacional de Rosario. Argen-
tina
1
We have addressed this issue in previous works; see Urbano, 2013; 2018; Oliver / Urbano,
2018; 2020.
2
Durand, 2000: 295–298. On relations with Qaṭna see Durand, 1987.
3
Charpin / Ziegler, 2003: 191.
264 Luciana Urbano
On the other hand, Yataraya is present in the oldest documents of the reign of
Zimri-Lim of Mari. Her hierarchical position in the oil distribution tablets is se-
conding Dâm-hurâṣi until the arrival of Šiptu. She could be a princess originally
from the city of Hasor or perhaps from Ugarit,4 and mother of several of the prin-
cesses who play a leading role in marriage politics, for example Kirû.5 The latter
idea would be explained by the fact that it is her who intervenes in the marital
dissolution of her daughter and her husband the king of Ilân-ṣûrâ.
The presence of Yataraya in the royal retinue of at least two Zimri-Lim jour-
neys suggests that she fulfilled special functions in her transfers. The publication
in 2009 of Les Archives de vin à Mari by Grégory Chambon6 provides us with a
documentary corpus on Yataraya’s dealings with wine, mainly destined for the
“king’s table”7 which reveals her prominent role in the handling and administra-
tion of one of the most significant and esteemed luxury goods for the king.
As a tentative hypothesis, we believe that we can demonstrate the existence of
distributed spheres of power in the administrative and political management of
the palace, which shows a planning in the execution of the roles of the women of
the elite. Their practices recorded in Mari archives allow us to suggest a much
more dynamic power structure than the hierarchical lists of oil and wool distribu-
tion. These mark a conservative order that was exceptionally modified, for exam-
ple, by the death of the queen mothers. However, the particular ways in which the
king’s wives, queen mothers, daughters and sisters exercised powerallowed them
to construct strategies that in some cases modified these intra-gender hierarchies.
4
Villard, 1984: 460.
5
See Durand, 1984.
6
Chambon, 2009.
7
Sasson, 2004.
8
Ziegler, 1999: 51. Durand, 2000: 273–275.
9
See LAPO 18, 1091.
10
See Ziegler, 2016: 297–300.
11
See LAPO 18, 1109.
12
See LAPO 18, 1102 to LAPO 18, 1114.
Yataraya and the Wine 265
and recommendations of the queen mother conclude with a call of attention to her
son “(…) do not be negligent in front of this message (…)”.13
Jean-Marie Durand has inferred that her importance in the affairs of the king-
dom was reinforced by the absence of a strong personality among the king’s
wives.14 He argues that Dâm-hurâṣi would have had a blur in politics and admin-
istration more concerned with “palace intrigues”,15 and on the other hand at the
beginning of the reign a young and newly arrived Šiptu seems not to have been
able to take the place of chief queen. For this reason the death of Addu-dûrî opens
a transition in the hierarchies of the house of women. In particular the functions
of the queen mother are divided between Šiptu and the priestess of the god Addu,
Inibšina, daughter of Yahdun-Lim and cousin of Zimri-Lim.16 For the young Šiptu
this moment would be undoubtedly the beginning of her fortune.
If we analyze the salutation formulas with which the letters of our queens
begin, we can see how they denote the different spheres of their influences.17
Dâm-hurâṣi had an important presence within the women’s household, especially
in the care of the king’s daughters who were not of marriageable age. She also
had a very active presence in religious affairs.18 Her letters from the middle of the
reign have led Jean-Marie Durand to think that she resided in Terqa as a priestess
of the god Dagan.19 In such a line of hypothetical reflection the displacement of
Dâm-hurâṣi to Terqa would coincide with the moment when Šiptu takes greater
control over state matters. As we see in her form of salutation, her influences go
beyond the intimacy of the palace including the matters of government of the city
of Mari, those functions inherited upon the death of the queen mother. Šiptu took
charge of an important variety of activities, from keeping the king informed on
his travels about the functioning of the palace, to aspects of economic, political
and military relevance. In addition to this we know that Šiptu gave at least two
children to Zimri-Lim, maternity that reinforced her position in the palace.
Although the ranks in the lists of oil distribution remained unchanged, the let-
ters let us glimpse that through alternative channels of circulation of goods the
intra-gender hierarchies are fluctuating. In a text from the end of the period where
the queens deliver the tribute-igisûm for Mari and Terqa, Šiptu delivers 100 units
13
LAPO 18, 1108.
14
Durand, 2000: 275.
15
Durand posits this in relation to the letters the queen exchanges with Partum. This view
is considered to be highlyconnoted. See Urbano, 2019.
16
This woman is at the top of the female hierarchy on the oil ration delivery tablets,
denoting her importance. See Ziegler, 1999: 46–50; Durand, 2000: 402–407.
17
See LAPO 18, 1126 and LAPO 18, 1118.
18
The letters of Dâm-hurâṣi are few and in themselves brief (LAPO 18 1116 to LAPO
18 1125). Many are only greetings to the king repeating the formula of the letter cited or
reports of omens.
19
Durand, 2000: 298.
266 Luciana Urbano
20
Ziegler, 1999: 224.
21
Ziegler, 1999: 55, n. 349.
22
A.482, unpublished. Cited in Charpin / Ziegler, 2003: 206, n. 330. See also in Sasson,
2015: 82.
23
Ziegler, 1999: 57, n. 370.
24
Villard, 1986: 393.
25
Sasson, 1984: 246–251.
26
Charpin, 2017: 638–639. In this text Charpin contributes to the understanding of the
only letter that refers to the king of Ugarit (A.186), whose name we do not know. See also
Charpin, 2021.
27
Villard, 1986: 387–412.
28
Villard, 1984: 475; Ziegler 2009: 56–57.
Yataraya and the Wine 267
29
LAPO 18, 1172; 1173. T. 108 (MARI 2); ARMT XXII 181; ARM 23 574 [M.11697];
M.9790 (ARM XXX, p. 328–329); M. 11353; M.12017; M.15099; ARM XXIV 617;
M.15157; ARM XXIV 180; ARMT XXI 81; ARM XXI 345; M.11983.M.9790; M.10764
(ARM XXXII, p. 285); ARMT XXV 617. FM 11 62 [M.6521+M.8574]; FM 11 83
[M.5287]; FM 11 90 [M.11922]; FM 11 99 [M.12818]; FM 11 113 [M.11937]; FM 11 141
[M.8595].
30
Weiner, 1994: 398.
31
Bonneterre, 2013: 625–634.
32
Chambon, 2009: 4.
33
Chambon, 2009: 21–37.
34
Chambon, 2009: 16–21.
35
Chambon, 2009: 30–31.
268 Luciana Urbano
letter that Yataraya sends to Šiptu during the royal journey to Hušlâ may give us
some clues:36
The heading of this letter, highlighting the health of the king’s servants during the
trip makes us think that the presence of Yataraya in the royal retinues was due to
the fact that she was in charge of managing and coordinating the food and bever-
age services.38 That is to say, an extension of the functions she performed in the
palace. The queen’s duties were not limited to wine. She was also involved in the
management of other significant goods and food for the royal table. This is why
Grégory Chambon proposes the hypothesis that Yataraya could have succeeded
the queen Ama-duga, mother of Yasmah-Addu, integrated into the house of the
women of Zimri-Lim.39
Ama-duga was in charge of a group of female cooks in the palace of Zimri-
Lim called abarakkatum, term translated as “économe” by Ziegler40 and house-
keeper in CAD.41 Upon her death, Yataraya would have succeeded Ama-duga in
her functions. In this way, she would have had jurisdiction over both the drinking
and the eatingof the king. Thus, in this sort of spheres of control distributed among
the wives of Zimri-Lim, Yataraya would occupy an important place, as in charge
of the management of the king’s wine and food, both in Mari’s palace and during
his travels.
In this framework it is considered that the category of “consumption of cultural
goods” developed by sociologist Pierre Bourdieu for the consumption of art in
modern society can, with certain nuances, be useful to reflect the meaning of wine
consumption by the elite. Bourdieu states that cultural consumption is a moment
36
Durand, 2000: 356.
37
Translation from French into English by the author from the ARCHIBAB version.
38
I thank Prof. Jack Sasson for suggesting this idea to me in personal communication.
39
Chambon, 2009: 31.
40
Ziegler, 1999: 100.
41
According to Chicago Assyrian Dictionary (CAD, vol 1, A part 1) “referring to a female
supervisor of the household servants” (1964: 31–32).
Yataraya and the Wine 269
4. Final thoughts
This brief tour through the Royal Archives of Mari allows us to propose the ex-
istence of shared spheres of power among the wives of Zimri-Lim and a system
of relay of functions at the death of the queen mothers. The intra-gender hierar-
chies that occurred among elite women pivoted on elements such as religion,
motherhood, honor and the possibility of participation in state affairs, whether
political or administrative. Šiptu, who upon her arrival had to live with the hon-
orific position of Dâm-hurâṣi, found in the death of her mother-in-law the oppor-
tunity to participate in political affairs and thus become necessary for her husband.
For her part, Yataraya was in charge of the administration of wine, a “symbol-
ically dense object”, a prestige good that gave hierarchy not only to the king of
Mari but also to those who supported his dispensation for daily meals and special
festivities. These functions extended beyond the royal palace, since it was essen-
tial to be able to sustain the level of comfort of the king during his travels and also
to organize the feeding of all his companions. While it is true that the fact that
Šiptu remained in the palace during the king’s absences is a maximum sign of
hierarchy, since she along with the trusted officials were in charge, Yataraya’s
occupations were not at all negligible and cannot be explained (only) because the
king liked her company as Jean-Marie Durand suggests.43 Perhaps, our hypothesis
explains in a more unprejudiced way the presence of Yataraya in the king’s trav-
els.
42
Bourdieu, 1979.
43
Durand, 2000: 356.
270 Luciana Urbano
The networks of relationships that political activity builds allowed both Šiptu
and Yataraya to dominate significant spaces of power. This analysis leads us to
propose that as a result of the power dynamics reflected in the letters and admin-
istrative texts, the intra-gender hierarchies were more fluctuating than what is con-
veyed by the lists of oil and wool distribution, hierarchies that mark a conservative
order and that was modified only exceptionally.
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Bourdieu, P., 1979: La distinction. Critique sociale du jugement. Paris, Ed. de
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moires de N.A.B.U. 12. Paris: SEPOA.
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4.
1. Introduction
Whether to celebrate a military victory, a successful hunt or to honour the gods,
the king or his dignitaries, the Assyrians regularly held festive banquets. These
were an opportunity to present high quality tableware that displayed the prestige
of the banqueters. It is therefore possible, through iconographic sources and ar-
chaeological remains, to question the tableware used during banquets. What are
these objects? Does their utilisation or the material from which they are made
convey a specific symbolism? Do these objects bear witness to a social hierarchy
between the different banqueters? These are questions we will attempt to answer
through a study based on the examination of objects uncovered during excavations
and their iconographic depiction in the Neo-Assyrian period. We will first present
the objects whose use during banquets is positively attested, then we will focus
on the objects which, although visual attestation is lacking, may have been used.
Finally, we will examine the symbolic dimensions of the objects and question the
prestige associated with them.
2. What we know …
The carinated bowls are without a doubt one of the best-known containers used
for royal banquets. They are depicted in the famous ‘Banquet Scene’ of Ashurba-
nipal (BM 124920) in the hands of both the king and the queen (Fig. 1), and we
have many archaeological attestations of them, either in ceramic or in precious
metal (Fig. 4: 1–9).1 The ceramic carinated bowls are in very fine ware and mainly
attested in palatial context; therefore, they are known among specialists as “Palace
*
UMR Orient et Méditerranée – Sorbonne Université (associate doctor), Skilled field ma-
nager (Eveha International).
**
UMR Orient et Méditerranée – Sorbonne Université (associate doctor), Institut catho-
lique de Paris.
1
For the typology of the ceramic specimens, see Anastasio, 2010: 41–42, pl. 107 and
Hausleiter, 2010: 291–292, 360–361, pl. 5; for the typology of the metal specimens, see
Howes Smith 1986: 48–55, fig. 4. See also, for other examples unearthed after the typol-
ogy of Howes Smith: Fadhil, 1990, pl. 39; Damerji, 1991; Curtis, 2013.
276 Adonice-A. Baaklini / Margaux Spruyt
ware” and “Eggshell ware”.2 There are also exceptional glass specimens, like the
one unearthed from the tumulus P (8th–7th century BCE) at Gordion.3 Beside the
specimens found in the different rooms of the Assyrian palaces, many of them,
and especially the metal ones, were unearthed from royal and high-status tombs
in Nimrud and Assur.4 These kinds of bowls spread all around the Near East, in
the provincial capitals, but also among the local autochthones, elites, sub-elites,
and even the commoners.5 They are characterised by a rounded base, a shallow
semi-elliptical body, and a sharp careen between the body and the everted rim.
Several of them are, especially the ones in metal, very well decorated with ga-
droons and omphalos. Some were engraved with the name of their owner, either
a royal figure, like the queen, a governor, or an indigenous vassal.6 The iconogra-
phy of the ‘banquet’ in the Linear Style Neo-Assyrian cylinder-seals gives many
examples of royal figures – or maybe sometime high officials – standing up or
sitting in front of a banqueting table. Sometimes, these figures hold in one of their
hands a little container in front of their faces, which could be a depiction of a
carinated bowl (Fig. 2).7 Those bowls were most probably used to drink wine8
during royal banquets, but also to perform libation during ceremonies, as attested
by iconographic sources.9 It is worth noting that these bowls were linked to the
figure of the king10 and have a strong symbolic meaning of loyalty to the Assyrian
Empire while some of them were probably given by the king to his high-status
personnel or vassals.11 In the Achaemenid period for instance, royal banquets
were one of the most important occasions for the king to offer these bowls in
different materials: gold and other precious metals for the higher status officials,
2
Lines, 1954; Rawson, 1954; Oates, 1959.
3
Rodney, 1981: pl. 15. (for a color modern picture, see (https://www.penn.museum/sites/
gordion/articles/artefactual-evidence/glass-at-gordion/).
4
See, for example, Curtis, 2013: pl. XXXVI: 508; pl. XXXVII (at the exception of number
514); pl. XXXVIII; pl. XXXIX, 501–502, 506. See also Oates / Oates. 2001: pl. 8b.
5
Baaklini, 2021: 247.
6
For example, the ones inscribed with names of Assyrian queens (Oates / Oates, 2001, pl.
8b); a bowl with the name of the turtanu (generalissimo) Shamshi-ilu (Fadhil, 1990: pl.
39); a bowl with the name of an eponymous official, Assur-Taklak (VAR: VA 5134); a
bowl with the name a high official of the Assyrian province of Arpad (Hunt, 2015: 190.),
and the one inscribed with the name of a probable autochthon ruler (probably vassal of
Assyria) from Western Iran (Radner, 1999–2001: 17–19, 23, fig. 1).
7
See, for example, Collon, 2001: pl. IX–XII.
8
Baaklini, 2016.
9
See, for example, the relief BM 124886–7 or the glazed tile ME 90859 (both at the British
Museum).
10
Nylander, 1999.
11
Hunt, 2015: 186; Radner, 1999–2001: 21.
The Vessels of the Assyrian Royal Banquet 277
and pottery for the inferior officials.12 A similar practice may have been imple-
mented in Assyria.
Fig. 1: The ‘Banquet Scene’ of Ashurbanipal, c. 645–635 BCE. North Palace of Ashur-
banipal. (Nineveh), room S. Gypsum, 58.42 × 139.7 × 15.24 cm. British Museum,
BM 124920.
Fig. 2: Neo-Assyrian cylinder seal (imprint). Brownish Chalcedony, 2.7 × 1.2 cm. PM 776
(www.themorgan.org).
12
Sancisi-Weerdenburg, 1989: 133–134.
278 Adonice-A. Baaklini / Margaux Spruyt
After the carinated bowls, we can cite the tripod bowl (Fig. 4: 10) displayed
on the table, between the royal couple, in the ‘Banquet Scene’. That kind of pot-
tery is well attested in the Neo-Assyrian ceramic,13 and, as shown by iconographic
representations, but also by its shape – especially the tripod base – it was most
probably used to display foods.
Some other vessels, used to serve beverages, are depicted in the relief showing
the preparation of a royal banquet in Khorsabad,14 the ancient Dur-Sharrukin (Fig.
3). This relief, from the reign of Sargon II, displays two elements: the zoomorphic
rhyta (Fig. 4: 12), and the huge cauldrons (Fig. 4: 13). One specimen of this kind
of rhyta, characterised by a cylindrical body sculpted in the form of a lion which
can be held by a semi-circular fine handle, was found in pottery from the territory
of Neo-Assyrian Empire.15 But it is highly probable that the pottery specimen was
copied from containers in precious metal, like the ones found in the Midas Tomb
(mound MM form Gordion).16 The cauldrons were absent from the archaeological
record of the Assyrian heartland, but similar ones were unearthed, again from the
tomb of Midas.17
Fig. 3: Relief showing the preparation of a royal banquet from the palace of Sargon II.
Khorsabad (Botta / Flandin, 1849: pl. 76).
13
They correspond to the category TR_02 in the study of S. Anastasio (Anastasio, 2010:
43–44, pl. 17: 2–4) and SH 2 in the study of A. Hausleiter (Hausleiter, 2010: 293–294,
362, pl. 76).
14
Botta / Flandin, 1849: vol. 1, pl. 76.
15
It corresponds to the category RH of S. Anastasio (2010: 55, pl. 14: 7).
16
Rodney, 1981: pl. 62, C–F.
17
Rodney, 1981: pl. 46.
The Vessels of the Assyrian Royal Banquet 279
Fig. 4: Assyrian vessels used during royal banquets. 1–2: Bronze bowls from Ashur
(Curtis, 2013: pl. 37: 511–512). 3–7, 9: Earthen ware carinated bowls form Nimrud
(Hausleiter, 2010: pl. 75; SD 4.1–4). 8: Gold bowl engraved with the name of Assur-
Taklak, found in Ashur (http://www.smb-digital.de); 10: Earthen ware tripod bowl from
Nimrud (Anastasio, 2010: pl. 17: 2). 11. Earthen ware rhyton from Khirbat Katuniyah
(Anastasio, 2010: pl. 40: 7). 12. Bronze rhyton from Gordion, Tumulus MM (so called
‘Midas’ tomb) (http://gunce.marsyas.gen.tr). 13. Reproduction of Bronze cauldron from
Gordion, same provenance as 12 (https://www.penn.museum/collections/object_images.
php?irn=410 640).
280 Adonice-A. Baaklini / Margaux Spruyt
18
They correspond to the category BT_01 (48–49; pl. 27), BT_02 (48–49, pl. 28) and
BT_03 (48–49; pl. 28) of S. Anastasio (2010); BD 1 (308–309, 378–379, pl. 86), BD 2
(379–380, 309–310, pl 87) and BD 3 (310, 380; pl. 87) of A. Hausleiter (2010); and B1
(49–53, fig. 3.12), B2 (49–53, fig. 3.13) and B3 (49–53, fig. 3.14) of A. Hunt (2015).
19
Curtis, 2013: pl. XXXIX, 509.
20
For example, see in Collon, 2001: pl. IX, 104–109, 113–117.
21
See, for example, Anastasio, 2010: pl. 60, and especially 60, 4, which is very similar to
the piece found in a palace of Tell Tayinat/Kunula.
22
Harrison / Osborne, 2012: 136, fig. 7: 9.
23
They correspond to the BK main type of S. Anastasio (Anastasio, 2010: 58, pl. 47, 3–
20).
The Vessels of the Assyrian Royal Banquet 281
of high-status tombs.24 They were placed in the hand of the deceased to recall the
drinking gesture, which may indicate that beakers were used during banquets in
Babylonia in a time not far from the Neo-Assyrian period. Indeed, the Neo-As-
syrian empire had a strong influence on the banqueting customs of the area, and
the cultural proximity between the Assyrians and the Babylonians let us believe
that the Assyrian pottery beakers, that have a similar shape as the Babylonian
ones, were also used during banquets, and maybe even royal ones in the Neo-
Assyrian period.
Regarding the serving ware, it is highly probable that some kind of bronze
buckets and strainers, found in Assyrian royal palaces, were used, similarly to the
rhyta we studied in the last paragraph, for serving beverages, especially wine (Fig.
6: 13).25
Fig. 5: Neo-Assyrian cylinder seal (imprint). Chalcedony, 2.3 × 1.1 cm. VA 7976.
(Klengel-Brandt, 2014: n° 152 = Moortgat, 1940: n° 665).
4. A hierarchised material
In the Banquet scene relief, it is interesting to note that Ashurbanipal’s and his
queen’s faces but also the king’s bowl – probably a carinated bowl if the image
of the queen’s bowl, which remains untouched, is anything to go by – were ham-
mered out after the fall of Nineveh. While it is easy to understand why the faces
of the king and queen were erased due to their position of power, the motives for
hammering the royal bowl are more intriguing.
24
Salje, 1996: 446.
25
See the two published examples in Curtis, 2013: pl. XL, 522; pl. XLI, 524.
282 Adonice-A. Baaklini / Margaux Spruyt
Fig. 6: 1: Assyrian vessels probably used during royal banquets. Dimpled ware (pottery)
form Assur, Anastasio, 2010: pl. 27: 11. 2–4: Dimpled ware (pottery) from Nimrud (1–2)
and Ashur (4), Anastasio, 2010: pl. 28: 1–3. 5: Dimpled ware (pottery) from Ziyarete Tepe,
Anastasio, 2010: pl. 28: 10. 6: Painted pot from Temple XVI of Tell Tatinat/Kunulua.
Redrawn form Harrison, Osborne, 2012: fig. 7: 9, p; 136. 7: Painted pot form Ashur. Re-
drawn from Hausleiter, 2010: pl. 126. 8: Earthen ware beaker from Nimrud, Hausleiter,
2010: pl. 81: BE 4.1. 9: Earthen ware beaker, Hausleiter, 2010: pl. 81: BE 4.3. 10: Earthen
The Vessels of the Assyrian Royal Banquet 283
ware beaker from Nimrud, Anastasio, 2010: pl. 27: 6. 11: Earthen ware beaker from Nim-
rud, Anastasio, 2010: pl. 27: 2. 12: Earthen ware beaker from Nimrud, Hausleiter, 2010:
pl. 80: BE 2.3. 13: Bronze strainer from Nimurd, Curtis, 2013: pl. XLI: 524. 14: Earthen
ware beaker form Rasm el-Tanjara (Syria), held at the AUB Archaeological Museum.
Photo: A.-A. Baaklini.
26
May, 2012.
27
Nylander, 1999.
28
Baaklini, 2021: 247–249; Adachi, 1997.
284 Adonice-A. Baaklini / Margaux Spruyt
Dietler’s typology.29 It would be interesting to know how this material was used
in aristocratic banquets, which might have more closely resembled the Greek
symposium with its relative “equality” among the guests,30 or relate to the “Em-
powering feast”.31 It should be noted that the two functions of the banquet are not
contradictory, as the royal banquet also serves to create an identity for the imperial
elite. In this context, it is clear that the material used, and particularly the table-
ware – especially in the case of the carinated bowls given as gifts – plays a major
role.
Conclusion
The study presented here focuses mostly on the ware visible in the reliefs; how-
ever, it is likely that other types of wares were used at these events. Furthermore,
it is also possible to extend the typological spectrum of certain forms, notably the
carinated bowls, since many of them, notably the metal specimens from Nimrud
and Ashur, have not yet been published.32 And it should be remembered that the
banquet was probably not limited to drinking and eating from tableware, but that
certain ceremonies could also have been taking place and require specific table-
ware. For instance, in Athens in the classical period, guests had to make libations
by pouring wine from their cups into larger vessels,33 or played certain games,
such as drinking one after the other from a disproportionate cup without spilling
any liquid.34 This opens up new possibilities for the identification of new types of
tableware, but it also requires further research into the Assyrian banquet and its
various stages – which is rather difficult because of the lack of clear references in
textual sources.
Abbreviations
PNA = Baker, H. / Parpola, S. / Radner, K. (eds.) 1998–2011: The Prosopography
of the Neo-Assyrian Empire. Helsinki.
RIMA 2 = Grayson, A. K., 1991: The Royal Inscriptions of Mesopotamia. Assyr-
ian Periods. Volume 2, Assyrian Rulers of the Early First Millennium B. C.,
1114–859 B. C. Toronto, Buffalo, London.
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Wecowski, 2014: 38.
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What Fine Ceramics Can Tell Us About Social Drinking
in Iron Age Iran
Trudy Kawami
This was just one among many ancient references to Persian social drinking, and
the assumption has been that the Achaemenids were the initiators of this practice.
However, this social activity was not begun by the Achaemenids. It was part of a
very long tradition rooted in northwestern and western Iran.
Wine has a long history in Iran, of course, as exemplified by a ceramic pot
from Hajji Firuz containing residue consistent with wine fermentation dating to
approximately 5400–5000 BCE.1 The practice of social drinking may be illus-
trated by the proliferation in Iron Age II–III of elaborately beak-spouted vessels
in western and central Iran (Fig. 1). These vessels are fine ceramics, that is they
are well-potted, frequently thin-walled and often burnished or painted. They have
exaggerated beak spouts. For the purpose of this discussion, I do not distinguish
between beak-spouted vessels and bridge-spouted vessels.2 Pots with either type
of beak-spout are not kitchenware; and the spouts are too vulnerable to breakage
for everyday use. These pots were clearly made for special occasions by skilled
craftspeople.
Beak-spouted vessels first occur in graves of the latter 2nd millennium BCE in
northwestern Iran at Dinkha Tepe,3 Geoy Tepe,4 Hajji Firuz5 and Hasanlu,6 sites
in the vicinity of Lake Urmiah. By the first millennium BCE examples in both
metal and ceramic appear in graves over a wide area, occurring both north and
south of Lake Urmiah, and are especially notable at Hasanlu. Other examples have
1
McGovern, 2003: 66–70, pl. 3; Balatti, 2021.
2
For the general chronological distinctions between the two types see Danti, 2013: 343–
344, 348, 351, fig. 17.10, 355, fig. 17.11, 360–361.
3
Danti, 2013: 180–181, 222–223, 230, 254–255, figs. 4.18T, 4.36a, E, 4.40P, 4.52.
4
Danti, 2013: 192, 198, figs. 4.22b:D, 4.25G.
5
Danti, 2013: 222–223, 300, figs. 4.36B, 5.15.
6
Danti, 2013: 202–203, fig. 4.27FF, 7 pl. 5.9.
290 Trudy Kawami
been excavated in the western Caspian watershed at sites like Ghalekuti I7 and
Marlik,8 and at Khurvin on the southern side of the Elborz.9 Most of these vessels
are monochrome with a carefully polished surface that evokes metal. On some
examples the burnishing produces patterns that radiate across the surface. Addi-
tional examples, many elaborately painted, are found eastward on the plateau at
Kara Tepe,10 Tepe Giyan11 and Tepe Sialk12 and to the south of Sialk at Sham-
shirgah near Qom.13 Less wealthy sites to the south like War Kabud,14 Chiga
Sabz15 and Tepe Guran16 in the Pusht-e Kuh, the western chain of the Zagros up-
lift, show the wide occurrence of these dramatically beaked vessels (Fig. 2). The
absence of elongated beak-spouts in vessels from the Elamite lowlands of
Khuzistan is notable.
The same exaggerated spouts appear on metal vessels, both copper alloys and
more precious materials, throughout the same area. Two copper-alloy vessel one
from a hoard at Sangtarašan, Lorestan17 (Fig. 3), and the other from Marlik18 (Fig.
4) in the Caspian watershed demonstrate the similarities.
Early well-known examples come from Iron II–III graves at Tepe Sialk fol-
lowed by discoveries in the cemeteries at Hasanlu and environs, at Masjid-e
Kabud19 farther north near Tabriz and at several sites well to the south in Lorestan.
But beak-spouted vessels are not specifically funerial; they also occur in “public”
buildings. At least 36 exemplars in both ceramic and metal come from the Burned
Buildings on the Hasanlu citadel.20 Others are known from Nush-e Jan21 near
Malayer and at the shrine at Surkh Dum22 in the Pish-e Kuh, and at Shamshirgah
7
Egami et al., 1965: pl. XXV:1; Kawami, 1992: 26, fig. 31.
8
Negahban, 1996: figs. 6, 25, 30, pls., XX, D; XXX, C, D; pls. 22, 16; 23, 17; 24, 21; 27,
45; 29, 55; 109, 572–575; 110, 576–579.
9
Vanden Berghe, 1964: 6–12 and pls. I–IV.
10
Matthews et al., 2022: 429, fig. 11.49.
11
Contenau / Ghirshman, 1935: pl. XVI, 18, 39.
12
Ghirshman, 1939: frontispiece, pls. IX–XII, XL, XLV, XLVII, LXIV, LIII–LIV, LX,
LXXX–LXXXVII; Seipel, 2000: 91–94, nos. 15–16. For the dating of these vessels see
Curtis, 2019: 4; Nashli / Nokandeh, 2019: 10–11; Danti, 2019: 29–31.
13
Fahimi, 2010: 169, 181, fig. 114 (central right).
14
Haerinck / Overlaet, 2004: pl. XVII, pl. 64, 99.
15
Schmidt / van Loon / Curvers, 1989: pl. 135a, b, 139a.
16
Thrane, 2001: 93–100, pls. 38:4, 65:16.
17
Hashemi, 2018. Also https://whitelevy.fas.harvard.edu/luristan-excavation-documents-
sangtarashan-iron-age-site-pish-kuh Accessed May 31, 2022.
18
Negahban, 1996: fig. 6, no. 45 and pl. 27, no. 45, from Tomb 52.
19
Azarnoush / Helwing, 2005: 220.
20
I am grateful to Megan Cifarelli for this information.
21
Stronach, 1978: 20, fig. 9:14.
22
Schmidt / van Loon / Curvers, 1989: pl.191, a. Field no. Sor 963.
What Fine Ceramics Can Tell Us About Social Drinking in Iron Age Iran 291
Fig. 1: Beak-spouted vessels from Hasanlu (left), Tepe Sialk (upper right), and Marlik
(lower right). Photos of the Hasanlu and Sialk vessels are courtesy of the Metropolitan
Museum of Art, acc. nos. 60.20.15 and 39.60.9 respectively. The photo of the Marlik
vessel, field no. 1102 M, is after Seipel 2000, courtesy of the National Museum Tehran,
acc. no. 1341-25290.
23
Fahimi, 2010: 167–168.
24
Mollazadeh, 2008: 109–111, and pls. 1, lower right; 7:20–21.
What Fine Ceramics Can Tell Us About Social Drinking in Iron Age Iran 293
a dramatic arc. I personally experienced this decades ago when emptying a Sialk-
style spouted pot that had been soaking in distilled de-ionized water as part of a
conservation and restoration process. The long, graceful arc of water that the spout
produced surprised me. Alas, at the time I did not think to document it with pho-
tos. Currently I know of no museum that would allow me to fill one of their pots
and pour it out just for a photograph.
Using a vessel from Sialk (Fig. 6) now in the National Museum, Tehran, one
can easily see how to pour. One hand, probably the right, controls the angle of the
spout via the strap handle opposite the spout. The other hand, probably the left,
supports the base just below the spout. Handless beak-spouted pots usually have
tapered bodies rather than spherical ones and were probably served with a hand
at each lower side cupping the vessel’s body. Thus, we can now envision how the
bearers of these vessels could dramatically pour out a long thin stream of wine,
presumably, while standing at some distance from the recipient.
A look at the décor, especially that of the painted vessels, suggests the position
of the recipient. The lower portion of the body of the vessel, an aspect that is not
directly seen by the bearer, and less visible to bystanders, is often ornamented
with elaborate patterns and sometimes inhabited by animated animals (Fig. 7).
Furthermore, the bases of these vessels are usually painted with two crossed lines
one of which forms an axis linking the spout and the strap handle (Fig. 8). This is
even the case with less elegant pots. The base is also delineated with a painted
edge and often has ornamental dots along the perimeter. You can see how care-
fully the décor was organized on the Sialk pot S.202 (Fig. 9). All parts of the
radiating patterns are carefully placed to relate to the bands above and below.
Monochrome burnished vessels often have a pattern-burnished on their bases as
well. The effort put into decorating the portions of the vessel that are least visible
294 Trudy Kawami
implies that there are observers who are below the vessel looking upward. Thus,
the recipients of the poured fluid were likely seated, probably on cushions, on the
floor.
Fig. 8: Ceramic vessel from Tepe Sialk, Cemetery B, Tomb 15, field no.S.814.
After Ghirshman 1939, pl. LXXX, e–f.
Fig. 9: Base of ceramic vessel from Tepe Sialk, Cemetery B, field no. S.202, show-
ing alignment of bottom décor with handle. After Ghirshman 1939, pl. LXXXIII, c.
296 Trudy Kawami
To envision what the “service” of these vessels might have looked like, I em-
ploy the contemporary parallel of the ceremonial serving of coffee at social occa-
sions in the countries along the Gulf (Fig. 10). To quote Abdullah Khalfan Al
Hamour, a heritage specialist in Dubai:25
“After preparing the coffee, it is served in small cups to the guests. The person
serving the coffee to the guests or family members (the muqahwi) must be a ma-
ture one, at least 15 years and above and not a child so he’s able to speak well
with the guests and not risk spilling coffee onto the clothes of guests as he serves
them. The muqahwi should hold the dallah (coffee pot) in his left hand and about
three small cups with no handle on the right” al Hamour said.
“He should serve the coffee starting from the person sitting on the right of the
majlis (gathering) and should not skip anyone. If there is a very important person
in the majlis, like a sheikh or a religious scholar, he should be served first. The
muqahwi should then serve others starting with the person on his right.” After
drinking, the guest gently shakes the small cup to show the muqahwi that he's
done. The muqahwi always remains standing until all guests have finished drink-
ing the coffee. And it is prohibited to serve coffee while people are eating food.”
25
Khaleej Times, May 11, 2017. See https://www.khaleejtimes.com/uae/this-is-the-
proper-traditional-way-to-drink-arabic-coffee Accessed Nov. 28, 2022.
What Fine Ceramics Can Tell Us About Social Drinking in Iron Age Iran 297
So what else can the beak-spouted vessels tell us about the societies in which
they were used? It is a commonplace that ceramics reflect the society that pro-
duced them, though in the past attempts to link ceramic types to linguistic or eth-
nic groups have proved problematic to say the least.26 Pots do not equal people!
But if we look at the fine ceramics of a culture or region we can see some things
of interest.
26
Lamberg-Karlovsky, 2002: 75.
27
Hunt, 2014; Mallowan, 1966: 178–180, 190.
28
Ohtsu, 1991; Akkermans / Schwartz, 2003: 365, fig. 11.4j.
29
Oates / Oates, 2001: 46–47, 134; Mallowan, 1966: 178–180, 190.
30
I am indebted to Megan Cifarelli for help with the Hasanlu ceramics.
298 Trudy Kawami
Fig. 12: Poster showing Iron Age Iranian ceramics photographed at Tepe Sialk in 2009.
Courtesy of www.the-persians.co.uk.
What Fine Ceramics Can Tell Us About Social Drinking in Iron Age Iran 299
31
Balatti, 2017: 86, 91–96; Svärd, 2015: 153–158, 161–173.
32
Balatti, 2017: 80–83, 86–106.
33
Kassabaum, 2019.
34
Ermidoro, 2015: 11, 23, 55, 98; Fu / Altman, 2014, 14–16; Renette, 2014. For the com-
plex administration of the royal supplies see Grob, 2015.
35
Renette, 2014: 74, n. 40.
36
Hayden, 2020: 795–797.
37
Dusinberre, 1999; Colburn, 2020: 201–219; 2022, 54–63.
300 Trudy Kawami
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Toasting with the Dead
Funerary Drinking Vessels in Early and Middle Bronze Age
Upper Mesopotamian Burials
Juliette Mas
1. Introduction
Early and Middle Bronze Age Mesopotamian graves were usually furnished with
numerous funerary offerings. They often included different kinds of objects such
as jewels, weapons, and almost always pottery vessels. Indeed, the majority of
Mesopotamian tombs yielded ceramics, sometimes tens of pots, even in the case
of ordinary burials. This article focuses on the funerary material from the site of
Chagar Bazar, located in the Syrian Jezirah. Chagar Bazar ordinary burials dated
to the Early Bronze Age and to the Middle Bronze Age have been extensively
studied,1 and their characteristics – notably concerning the pottery vessels they
yielded – have been compared to the material from some other contemporary sites
of the region.
The vessels uncovered within the Upper Mesopotamian funerary assemblages
dating to the Early and Middle Bronze Ages generally correspond to tableware:
i.e. vessels linked to food consumption or drinking. These ceramics may have
been connected to funerary banquets, to the will to insure eating and drinking for
the dead during their journey to the netherworld, or as offerings for the infernal
deities.2 The pottery funerary sets mostly contained daily-use vessels also attested
in an occupational context (domestic or official). In fact, no specific funerary ves-
sels or fabrics have been identified in the burial assemblages in the Jezirah region
from the Early Bronze Age or the Middle Bronze Age.3
1
Information regarding all aspects of Early Bronze and Middle Bronze Ages ordinary
burials from Chagar Bazar were published in 2018 in a series of monographs. Concerning
the archaeological description of the tombs, see notably Tunca / Baghdo / Léon, 2018 and
concerning the pottery, see Tunca / Mas, 2018.
2
See notably Scurlock, 1995: 1884 and Lion, 2015: 315–316.
3
An exception to this lack of specific funerary vessels may be made of the EJZ 2 Jezirah
Bichrome Ware stands. However, these are very poorly attested (see Lebeau, 2003; Val-
entini, 2003; Rova, 2011: 70).
304 Juliette Mas
4
Tunca / Mas, 2018: 49–67, 89–96.
5
Tunca / Mas, 2018: 45–68, Pls. 2–17.
6
Nicolle, 2006.
7
See notably Ławecka, 2006; Bieliński, 2007.
8
See notably Bretschneider, 1997; Van der Stede, 2007.
9
Lebeau, 1993: 229–254.
10
Cf. note 3.
11
Tunca / Mas, 2018: Pl.10.
12
On this topic, see notably Sallaberger, 2015.
13
Notably Scurlock, 1995: 1888; Lion, 2015: 316–317.
14
For glyptic examples, see notably Woolley, 1934: pl. 200. 102; Frankfort, 1955; Pau-
lette, 2021: fig. 4. The beverage of beer has been widely studied through textual and icon-
ographic evidence (Hartman / Oppenheim 1950).
Toasting with the Dead 305
drink unfiltered beer.15 Strainers are – although quite rarely – documented across
the Near East during the Middle Bronze Age and the Iron Age.16 No metal strainer
was discovered in Chagar Bazar Early Bronze Age burials; therefore, it is difficult
to determine whether or not large closed vessels from these graves were used for
the collective drinking of beer.
Fig. 1: Chagar Bazar. Distribution and examples of open vessels from Early Bronze Age
graves. Drawings and pictures after Tunca / Mas, 2018: pl. 2.
15
Maier, 1992; Homan, 2004; Faivre, 2009: 173. Furthermore, according to Michel, an
Old-Assyrian text documents the payment of straws for beer jars, Michel, 2009: 209.
16
See notably Maier, 1992: table 9.1, concerning the attestations across the Near East.
306 Juliette Mas
17
Tunca / Mas, 2018: 68–87, 96.
18
Tunca / Mas, 2018: Annexe 2.
19
Tunca / Mas, 2018: 68–70, pl. 18.
20
Tunca / Mas, 2018: 70–85, pl. 20–37.
21
Zarnkow, 2018.
22
Léon, 2018a.
Toasting with the Dead 307
Fig. 2: Chagar Bazar. Distribution and examples of open vessels from Middle Bronze Age
graves. Drawings and pictures after Tunca / Mas, 2018: pl. 18.
23
Wygnańska, 2014: 44–45.
24
Mesnil du Buisson, 1948: 51–52.
25
McMahon, 2006: pl. 152.
308 Juliette Mas
Fig. 3: Chagar Bazar. Possible beer vessel types from Middle Bronze Age graves.
Drawings and pictures after Tunca / Mas, 2018: pl. 21, 27, 29.26
26
For a complete view of possible beer vessels types, see Tunca / Mas, 2018: 71–85, pl.
19–37.
Toasting with the Dead 309
Figure 4: Chagar Bazar. Bronze strainers from Middle Bronze Age graves, after Léon,
2018a: pl. 47.
310 Juliette Mas
27
Zarnkow, 2018.
28
Léon, 2018a.
29
Wygnańska, 2014: 44–45.
30
Mesnil du Buisson, 1948: 51–52.
31
McMahon, 2006: pl. 152.
32
Bieliński, 1999; Bieliński, 2005; Koliński, 2008; Wygnańska, 2014.
33
Pecorella, 1999: 53; Valentini, 2016: fig. 10.
34
Weiss et al., 1990.
35
Nicolle, 2006.
36
Dohmann-Pfälzner / Pfälzner, 2001: abb. 6.
37
See notably Nicolle, 2006; Valentini, 2016.
38
Léon, 2018b; Cordy, 2018.
Toasting with the Dead 311
drinking vessels with wealthy offerings. These two points are recognizable both
in the Early Bronze Age and in the Middle Bronze Age burials.
The identified drinking vessels from the Early Bronze Age and possible beer
vessels dated to the Middle Bronze Age were uncovered in the graves of infants,
women and male adults without any clear discrimination. We should nevertheless
point out that the Middle Bronze Age beer pots with bronze strainers were not
uncovered in the tombs of infants below the age of one year, but that Early Bronze
Age small open vessels were uncovered in new-born graves.
We can observe a very different picture between the Early Bronze Age and the
Middle Bronze Age funerary assemblages at Chagar Bazar concerning the drink-
ing vessels. Specifically, we observe that the small open vessels are widely at-
tested within the Early Bronze Age, while they are almost absent in Middle
Bronze Age burials. As we have seen, the drinking vessels in the Middle Bronze
Age graves are mostly bottles and jars that can likely be associated with the bev-
erage of beer. It does not mean that beer vessels are absent within the Early Bronze
Age burials, but we have no clue enabling us to identify them. It is also possible
that Early Bronze Age Chagar Bazar burials were furnished with vessels linked
to the collective drinking of beer, while the Middle Bronze Age ones were con-
nected to an individual beer drinking practice.
Small cups and beakers were probably not used for the drinking of beer. They
may have been used to drink water, wine, milk or other liquids. Bottles, medium-
sized jars or grain measures may also have contained these kinds of beverages.
We can note that medium jars, both in Early Bronze Age and Middle Bronze
Age graves, sometimes contained smaller vessels (i.e. beakers, bowls or small
bottles and goblets). These small pots were probably used to take liquid from the
jars. Therefore, we can assume that these jars contained liquids or beverage offer-
ings.
We should note that the Middle Bronze Age assemblages from the other Mes-
opotamian regions (i.e. Syrian Euphrates, Central and Southern Mesopotamia) re-
veal a higher proportion of small open vessels such as bowls, cups, and beakers
in the funerary assemblages. Additionally, the so-called four part beer sets of pot-
tery are well attested in funerary assemblages at different sites in Central and
Southern Mesopotamia during the second part of the Early Bronze Age, as pointed
out by Zingarello.39 These beer sets are, however, not attested in the Upper Mes-
opotamian graves. As a result, can we postulate a shift in the funerary practices
concerning beverage offerings throughout the Bronze Age? It is possible that beer
became the common beverage offering during the Middle Bronze Age in the Jezi-
rah region, or that at least the practice in drinking beer changed. This change of
practice seems to have been restricted to the Syrian Jezirah.
39
Zingarello, 2020.
312 Juliette Mas
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Representing Banquets in Ancient Mesopotamia
A Public Affair?
Davide Nadali
Celebration of feasts are public occasions that occurred in public spaces (e.g.,
temples) with the involvement of several characters who had a specific role and
function in ancient Mesopotamian society. As a consequence, the figurative theme
of banqueting is well represented in visual art, showing the attendees while eating
and drinking, assistants and servants bringing food and serving the banqueters
with food and drinks, and musicians accompanying the event. Starting from the
representation of Mesopotamia in third millennium BC, the present paper tackles
the nature and shape of the visual documents focusing on the reason for choosing
relatively small objects (seals, plaques, inlays) and the effective public diffusion
of this political iconography which was so important for the formation of the rul-
ing class in the Early Dynastic Period.
*
In ancient Mesopotamian art, banqueting is a recurrent figurative theme: in par-
ticular, during the third millennium BC, in the Early Dynastic Period, banqueting
is not only recurrent, but it acquires a significant function within the production
of images.1 Can banqueting be considered as a symbolic image? Surely, the dif-
ferent representations contain several symbols that allude to diverse messages and
spheres of influences, having different levels of interpretations and intentions: a
first, very basic, level, is that a banquet is intended to exactly represent people
while feasting with actions of eating and drinking; a second level, that can be more
properly labelled as symbolic, the representation of banqueting stands for some-
thing else with implied political, cultural, and religious meanings that go beyond
the simple acts of eating and drinking. In this respect, rather than symbolic, I pre-
fer to say that banquets are metaphorical images that refer to and remind us of
other connotations and implications: in particular, looking at the banquet scenes
of the third millennium BC, one can suggest that political implications are specif-
ically intended, and I think that these are clearly emphasised and fostered when
the couple of banqueteers (usually a woman and a man) or named characters (that
1
Marchesi / Marchetti, 2011: 203–207.
316 Davide Nadali
can be identified thanks to the presence of the cuneiform caption) are represented
and when the context of both the image (where banquet is carved) and the finding
(where the object has been found) are taken into account.
On one hand, it is true that, if not properly a banquet, single people feasting or
ritual drinking (sometimes associated with other actions such as dancing or
fighting) have been known since the Neolithic period;2 on the other, the third mil-
lennium BC surely represents the peak of the diffusion and use of the banquet as
the unique or surely the main figurative theme in art works (pottery, cylinder seals,
plaques, and steles): starting from the analysis of the percentage of the presence
of banquets in the iconography of the Early Dynastic Period and the considera-
tions that this depends on their meaningful importance, I want to focus on the
nature of objects and the importance of this iconography as an element of political
discourse of the ancient Mesopotamian societies of the third millennium BC: in
particular, I think it is important to point out, and consequently to distinguish,
how, when, and why the theme of the banquet has been so widely represented and
how this large diffusion has been conceived. Indeed, while ancient written sources
document the existence of banquets that were organised by the central authority
on the occasion of religious festivals and other kinds of ceremonies,3 it seems to
me that the great emphasis given to banquets, at least from an iconographical point
of view, largely depends on the nature of the evidence, that is the recovery of
several representations of banquets, in an almost-canonical pattern with slight dif-
ferences (such as the composition or number of people) on different types of ob-
jects (steles,4 cylinder seals, plaques), persuaded scholars to postulate and infer
that the action of feasting was central and surely conveyed a symbolic meaning
for the audience.5 I do not want to contest the importance of the banquet and the
reality of data (the numbers of iconographic examples and the existence of organ-
ised, regular, and official feasting), but I wish to contextualise the use and pres-
ence of this iconography trying to reconstruct how and if banquet was in fact a
public meeting, a shared moment and, if so, who was directly involved (either
active participants and therefore portrayed in the scene, or generic beholders who
did not share the real moment of feasting but were supposed to share the idea and
meaning implied by the observation of people drinking and eating).
2
Stein, 2021: 444–447.
3
See Maekawa, 1973–74; Sallaberger, 2018.
4
Indeed one stele, see Rashid, 1975 and Romano, 2011.
5
Moreover, compared to the information provided by texts on the organization and cele-
brations of banquets, the iconographic evidence is rather small, with a higher percentage
of banquet scenes on cylinder seals (Stein, 2020: 176–177).
Representing Banquets in Ancient Mesopotamia: A Public Affair? 317
Fig. 1: Cylinder seal of A-bar-gi from Ur (U. 10448A) from PG 800, University of Penn-
sylvania Museum, B16727 (http://www.ur-online.org/subject/10165/, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0).
Fig. 2: Plaque from the Oval Temple, House D, Khafajah (Osama Shukir Muhammed
Amin FRCP [Glasg], CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons).
318 Davide Nadali
6
The small-scale dimension is of course determined by the small dimension of the objects
(seals, plaques) if compared to victory steles that had a larger surface to be sculpted.
7
Pinnock, 1994: 16; Nadali, 2007; Renette, 2014: 63–68; Suter, 2018: 142–143.
8
Nadali, 2019; 2020.
9
See fn. 4.
Representing Banquets in Ancient Mesopotamia: A Public Affair? 319
celebrate the royal victory in front of the deity, both in the narrative of the relief
and in the concrete location of the stele within the sacred precinct of the temple).
Banquet scenes do not envisage the presence of gods, neither physically (in
anthropomorphic shape) nor symbolically: the question is exclusively human and,
for that reason, although feasting might have a religious connotation and function,
the representation of banquets seems indeed to exclusively enter the sphere of
human relationships and political communication. While victory monuments have
a celebratory nature – they are purposely created to celebrate a military event –
banquets are not celebrations, but they actually point to the representation of com-
mon shared moments where selected participants are involved, on one hand, and
targeted people assisting or looking at the represented scene are secondarily ad-
dressed, on the other.10 For the presence of gods, it is interesting to point out that,
at the end of the Early Dynastic Period and the passage into the Akkadian period,
representations of banquets decreased and contextually changed:11 gods start to
be involved as the main protagonist, but in this respect the new code introduced
does not share anything with the previous scenes of banquets; indeed, the label
“banquet” is no longer appropriate because we are dealing with the so-called
presentation scene where a person is introduced to the seated god or king holding
a cup in one hand; this is the only feature that actually recalls the action of drink-
ing but the relationship that is established is strictly private, between the presented
person and the receiving god or king.
The nature and purpose of banquet scenes are not celebratory, at least not in
their immediate and first meaning: generally speaking, thanks to the written
sources that prove the existence of the organization of festivals for the gods which
also encompass the consumption of food and drinks in community feastings, ban-
quet scenes could be rightly intended as public celebrations. However, we have
no evidence or possibility of precisely linking any of the Early Dynastic represen-
tations of banquets to a precise public divine festival. As previously said, refer-
ences to the divine world are absent and the iconography of the banquet, on all
artworks, is quite schematic and canonical, having few exceptions and differences
that mostly depend on the role of the banqueteers and the destination of the carved
object.12 If we wish to consider banquet scenes as moments of celebration, this
actually concerns the protagonists involved and the political message that is con-
veyed; the banquet is more of a social and political marker that is purposely in-
troduced and used in the time of the third millennium BC, more precisely in the
time of formation and development of the political power that finally led to the
creation of the structure of the kingship and, consequently, of the figure of the
king.
10
Stein, 2020: 178.
11
Pinnock, 1994: 16; Renette, 2014: 63–68; Suter, 2018: 142–143.
12
Pollock, 2003: 25; Renette, 2014: 79; Stein, 2020: 178.
320 Davide Nadali
I think that banquet scenes might have a distributive nature and function: what
does this imply? What does the distributive quality mean? The denotative defini-
tion of banquet scenes as distributive directly points to the general organization
and management of a banquet: food and drink are distributed. On the other hand,
the connotative implication of the distributive quality of banquet scenes meta-
phorically involves both the people who are represented as taking part in and at-
tending the banquet and the people who, having the object, e.g. the seal, carved
with the banquet motif and looking at the scene, are also part of the banquet. In
this respect, they are not concretely receiving food and drinks, but they are nev-
ertheless part of that distributive range of action that is emanated by the protago-
nists (and maybe the promoters) of the banquet: so, if not food and drink, what is
being distributed in this extension of meaning? It has been correctly argued that
banquet scenes in the art of the Early Dynastic Period of Mesopotamia have a
political meaning and, moreover, they convey a political message:13 from the very
beginning of the third millennium BC, ancient Sumerian society progressively
started a process of transformation that, to the end of the period, was completed
with the first manifestation of palaces as the building and seat of the kingship and
personal residence of the king.14 The banquet, differently from the celebration of
a victory, is not a solitary activity but it rather involves other people who,15 by
virtue of either being part of the banquet itself or being the addressees of one of
the objects carved with the banquet motif – indeed they could be both at the same
time; feeling part of a system, they share common values and ideas, thus support-
ing a growing political power that eventually is fixed in the king. The representa-
tion of the seated couple in the top register of seals and plaques is the emblematic
portrayal of this royal power which, once it becomes properly stable, no longer
needs to continue propagating this iconography and fostering its distributive
power. Banqueting is an instrument for the achievement of power: the real distri-
bution and consumption of goods in community occasions and the metaphorical
distribution enhanced by the imagery of banquet contributed to the reinforcement
of ties: when the power is definitely settled, only the king holds the cup (Fig. 3)
and the community around him is either part of his family or it is made up of those
members whom, in the end, we can see in the cylinder seals of the Royal Cemetery
of Ur and, more precisely, in the bodies buried in the tombs of the Cemetery of
Ur.16
Archaeological evidence also points to this distributive action: it is interesting
to notice the presence and increase of what, although improperly, can be defined
13
Pollock, 2003; Renette, 2014.
14
Marchesi / Marchetti, 2011: 97–113.
15
At least in central and southern Mesopotamia (if one takes into account the examples
from the Royal Cemetery of Ur). See Stein, 2020: 178; 2021; Romano, 2015.
16
Pollock, 2003: 26. See also Marchesi / Marchetti, 2011: 205.
Representing Banquets in Ancient Mesopotamia: A Public Affair? 321
as an eating and drinking set of pots (bowls and beakers).17 Already in the Early
Dynastic I, the diffusion of solid-footed goblets in different contexts marks the
common practice of consumption that, on certain occasions, was a collective and
community situation:18 we should recognise in these moments (festivals, private
and public celebrations such as weddings, funerals) the need and search for the
establishment of socio-political and economic strategies in a growing and devel-
oping society; in particular, those moments marked the occasion for the formation
or reinforcement of kinship groups with the progressive elaboration of a system
which led to the identification of a leading group of people (a household) and a
group of people that depends on and works for the former.
Again, cylinder seals are distributive objects (Fig. 4): they are distributed to
the people and personnel who, on behalf of the central authority, are charged with
administrative and economic duties; their impressions are not only the result of
these activities but they themselves contribute to the distribution and diffusion of
17
Pollock, 2003: 28–32.
18
Benati, 2019.
322 Davide Nadali
the message they contain. Looking at the cylinder seals showing banquet scenes,
we could thus argue that those objects are the physical distribution of power (the
seal) that is also based on and built upon ties of kinship and relationships created
and/or reinforced by common consumption (the banquet). Perhaps, as already
said, the same owner of the seal may also be a participant in the banquet carved
onto the seal itself; at the same time, the ownership of a seal with a banquet carved
upon it could work as referential, that is a recognisable and shared reference to a
focal iconographic motif in the Sumerian society of the third millennium BC.
Fig. 4: Modern impression of cylinder seal with banquet scene with seated figures
drinking a liquid through straw, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 56.157.1
(Open Access, Public Domain).
This contribution does not pretend to clarify the several meanings that ban-
queting might have within the complexity of iconography and in the context of
images: I believe that the centrality of banqueting and consumption of food and
drink needs to be re-contextualised in the light of additional archaeological, prob-
ably more than epigraphic, evidence in order to frame the iconographic phenom-
enon of the increase of banquet scenes or images of people drinking in the art of
the third millennium BC. As seen, it is not just a question of style and fashion: the
imagery is strictly linked to the socio-political and economic needs of ancient Su-
merian societies, in a phase of political formation and establishment of powers,
within the traditional temple-estate organisation of Sumer. In this respect, festi-
vals, the public consumption of food and drinks, occurred in temples and on the
occasion of cultic festivities in honour of the gods: however, no image can be
Representing Banquets in Ancient Mesopotamia: A Public Affair? 323
properly linked and associated to any of these known festivals, but I believe that
this generic and anonymous representation points more towards the political func-
tion of these redistributions to establish new and strengthen old kinship ties.
What can we say about the plaques, largely found in temple contexts? The
function of these objects is still matter of debate: personally, I do not believe they
were part of the closing system of doors, the central hole is supposed to host the
wooden pivot. Even the sacred nature is not so clear: some plaques represent gods,
but the ones with representation of the banquet in the top register are more enig-
matic. Whether the banquet in this case and because of the temple context refers
to cultic festivities is impossible to ascertain: perhaps these plaques reinforced the
role of the temple as centre of redistribution of goods and owner of the arable
lands not only on the occasion of cultic festivals, and indicated the temple as the
place where this action took place in a time when palaces were not already created
and fully developed.19 More than on cylinder seals, sculpted plaques depict the
couple in the top register while drinking from a common shared jar or personal
beakers: if cylinder seals had an outward distributive action – to the people who
were thus linked and affiliated to the household – plaques in temples had an
inward distributive action – to the gods who guaranteed the success of the socio-
political operation.
In conclusion, is the representation of banqueting in ancient third millennium
Mesopotamia a public affair? Yes, it is: a banquet concerns the sphere of public
relations and ties and it is a political instrument to shape socio-political and eco-
nomic groups with the creation of an emerging elite. No, it is not: the representa-
tion does not have a celebratory nature, so it is not intended to be publicly dis-
played for a large audience. Rather, it works within a system of inner references,
sometimes even closed if we think of the presence of banquet scenes onto the seals
and the Standard of Ur in the tombs of the Cemetery of Ur.
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Food and Drinks in Ancient Diaeuhi and Colchis
Natia Phiphia / Omari Dzadzamia
1. Introduction
Food and drinks are two aspects of everyday life which are quite difficult to study
for the history of ancient Diaeuhi and Colchis/Kolkha.1 Diaeuhi (Diauhi, Daiaeni,
later Taokhi) was a tribal union2 or an early state3 in northeastern Anatolia,4 spe-
cifically in the region to the north of present day Erzerum. Narrative sources about
Diaeuhi and Colchis are very few. The main reason for this is that these early
states did not have their own narratives and we only know about them from the
texts of their neighbors – Assyrians as well as Urartians. We have important
information about the food which was consumed on the territory of ancient Di-
aeuhi and Colchis from the annals of Tiglath-Pileser I (1114–1076 BC), inscrip-
tions of Ishpuini (828–810 BC) and Menua (810–785 BC), Argishti I (785–763
BC), Sarduri II (763–735 BC). Additionally, some classical authors also give us
interesting, albeit small accounts, for example Aristotle (4th c. BC). Since food
consumption culture does not change dramatically overnight or even over the cen-
turies, we can use the information from classical authors to study food consump-
tion in the region in earlier times, however the novelties brought by the Greeks in
Colchis should be ignored if we intend to reconstruct what was used as a food
before them.
Recent palynological studies about well-known archaeological sites in ancient
Colchis can also be very helpful for the study of eating and drinking habits. Paly-
nological material coming from well preserved archaeological sites and specifi-
cally from closed contexts is very precise information and remains of food and
drinks discovered in vessels for storage help us to reconstruct the history of diet
quite accurately – we do know what was consumed, however palynological ma-
terial has one limitation – specific recipes are hard to reconstruct based on such
1
The name Kolkha/Kulkha is usually referred to an early state which existed from 11th–
th
8 c. BC until the Cimmerian invasions. This tribal union or an early state was devastated
by Cimmerians and Scythians later however the inhabitants of the region managed to re-
organize and created the kingdom of Colchis in the 6th c. BC.
2
Suny, 1994: 6.
3
Koranashvili, 1978: 259.
4
Taffet / Yakar, 1998: 141.
326 Natia Phiphia / Omari Dzadzamia
2. Food
First of all, we will discuss the sources of proteins – these are mostly animals and
some vegetables.
2.1 Meat
The Annals of Tiglath-Pileser I mentions how he defeated the kings of Nairi and
what tribute he demanded from them. Location of Nairi is debated; however as
mentioned by A. E. Redgate, the southern point of Nairi was Tumme, while the
northern one Daiaeni.9 Since the northern regions of Nairi seem to include ancient
5
Late Bronze Age and Early Iron Age archaeological sites are hard to differentiate, usually
the same sites reveal late Bronze Age developments alongside with Early Iron age tech-
nology, that is why we refer them as Late Bronze Age – Early Iron Age archaeological
sites.
6
Jibladze, 1985: 69.
7
Apakidze, 1985: 60.
8
RIMA 2, A.0.87.3, fragment 5a.
9
Redgate, 2000: 27.
Food and Drinks in Ancient Diaeuhi and Colchis 327
Diaeuhi also, we will take into consideration this account: Nairi kings had to pay
1200 horses and 2000 cows.10 It should be mentioned that, while horses were not
used for food supposedly, cows definitely were as it is attested in other sources
regarding this region.11 Also, despite the fact that the numbers in Assyrian royal
inscription may be exaggerated as it is believed now,12 the content is not, so the
existence and possible consumption of these animals on these specific territories
should not be doubted. As for Colchis, inscriptions of Ishpuini and Menua (820–
810 BC) mention the tribute paid by Uiterukhi (Byzeres in classical sources),13
Lusha (ancestors of the Lazi tribe, at those time living presumably in the highlands
of Adjara),14 Katarza (tribe living in Klarjeti, near historical Diaeuhi, in modern
Turkey)15 and Etiukhi (?) kings: 13 540 cows, and 20 785 sheep.16 An inscription
of Argishti I (785–763, or 756?, BC) mentions the gift of the king of Diaeuhi:
2300 cows, 1000 small livestock (sheep and goat?) and also, subsequent tribute
he had to pay: bulls, 100 cows, 500 sheep, 300 horses among other tribute.17 Sar-
duri II in the description describing his campaign in Kulkha and Uiterukhi men-
tions the booty taken – 1500 horses, 17300 cows, and 31600 small livestock.18
Cows are mentioned by Aristotle and he has a quite interesting note: “Small
cows are bred in Phasis (Ancient Colchis), whose milk yield is high”.19 The spe-
cific breed of cows should be the so-called Georgian Mountain Cattle, which is
15th in the list of the so-called world dwarf breed of cows. Average milking of this
cow in wild conditions, without giving fodder crops, is 800–900 kg for 6–7
months in case of Eastern Georgian highlands,20 but pasture is better in Western
Georgia, as a result of higher rainfall and milder climate, thus lactation might
increase to 1400 kg in 270 days, which is more than 5 kg in a day in average.
During the classical age, we have quite interesting information from the ar-
chaeological site of Pichvnari, an archaeological site located near Kobuleti
(Adjara, Georgia). This archaeological site revealed material starting from Late
Bronze Age.21 Several other sites are revealed also nearby, including the cemetery
of Greek colonists. Several hundred Greek burials are unearthed in Pichvnari as a
result of British-Georgian archaeological excavations alongside with approxi-
10
RIMA 2, A.0.87.1. IV, 43.
11
Arist. Hist. an., III, 21.
12
Odorico, 1995.
13
Melikishvili, 1970, 382–383.
14
Melikishvili, 1970, 383.
15
Melikishvili, 1970, 378.
16
eCUT, A 03–04.
17
Melikishvili, 1953a: 128 В1.
18
Melikishvili, 1953b: 155 D.
19
Arist. Hist. an., III, 21.
20
Gogoli, 2021.
21
Kakhidze / Vickers, 2004: 15.
328 Natia Phiphia / Omari Dzadzamia
mately the same quantity of Colchian burials. Greeks first came here in the 6th c.
BC. It seems that the inhabitants of Pichvnari, who were mostly merchants, con-
sumed fish and some other sea food, as well as pigs, and that they did not practice
hunting unlike the inhabitants of Vani, the city in hinterland. Since Pichvnari was
located on the seaside, the use of fish as a source for food is not unexpected.
Weights used for fishing were discovered in archaeological layers of the site;
some of them are of quite large size, which might indicate the development of
fishing in the open sea.22
In contrast to this, Colchian aristocracy was more concerned about hunting.
Kingdom of Colchis starting from the 6th c. BC is considered to be protofeudal
society.23 Since in such societies hunting is a part of military education of the
political elite, the opinion about the development of hunting can be substantiated
by the evidence found in the burial of a warrior in Vani – hunting weapons, mostly
arrow-heads and spearheads24 have been discovered in the burials of warriors
seems to hint to this25. Remains of animal bones, namely two boar fangs,26 is an
evidence of this. They were found in the burial #11, the so-called warrior’s burial
alongside with other animal bones – sheep, goat and cow.27 Also, boars are
depicted on dishes and on jewelry.28 Boar is depicted on one bronze situla found
in the same grave and on a couple of gold bracelets which have open endings in
the form of boar. These bracelets are also discovered also in the same burial.
Although, these depictions are not part of a hunting scenes, all the evidences from
burial #11 together (weapons, animal bones, depiction of animals) should indicate
on popularity of hunting among elites. Boars were also part of a decoration of
diadems, which were wore by the skeptukhs, state officials, heads of administra-
tive units of Colchis.29 However, hunting was not the major source of food of the
population; in fact, mostly Vani aristocrats were fond of it since it seems to be the
part of their training.
Archaeological sites from Colchis dated back to the 3rd–2nd millennia in gen-
eral, reveal osteological remnants of different domestic animals – cows, pigs,
sheep, alongside with remnants of wild animals – wild boar, deer, wild goat.30
Cows or pigs are prevalent in Ochkhomuri site of late Bronze Age, while sheep
and domestic goat are rare.31 25 bronze figures of bull are also found on 8th–7th c.
22
Kakhidze / Vickers, 2004: 141–142.
23
Dundua, 2009: 8.
24
Lordkipanidze et al., 1972: 202.
25
Lordzkipanidze, 1976: 176.
26
Tsitsishvili, 1972: 243.
27
Tsitsishvili, 1972: 243–250.
28
Lordkipanidze 1972, table 225, 230, 230a, 231.
29
Lordkipanidze 1972, table 226.
30
Jibladze, 2007: 88; Vachadze, 2018: 30, 52.
31
Vachadze, 2018: 30.
Food and Drinks in Ancient Diaeuhi and Colchis 329
2.2 Vegetables
Remains of sorrel (Rumex) and celery (Apium) were found in Vani, in layers
dated to the 8th–1st c. BC41 Also, fat-hen (chenopodium album L.), found in Noka-
lakevi42 could have been used as food, since its use is attested ethnographically
even today.
32
Vachadze, 2018: 35.
33
Vachadze, 2018: 94, plate IX, 5 and plate X, 5.
34
Dundua et al., 2013: II type hemidrachm.
35
Vachadze, 2018: 80.
36
Dundua et al., 2013: drachm.
37
Chichinadze et al., 2019: 26.
38
Connor / Kvavadze / Thomas, 2007: 27.
39
Kakhidze / Vickers, 2004: 142–143.
40
Bokeria, 2014: 107.
41
Chichinadze et al., 2019: 26.
42
Bokeria, 2010: 28.
43
Bokeria, 2010: 27.
330 Natia Phiphia / Omari Dzadzamia
2.4 Nuts
Chestnut and walnut were found in Vani,53 while 8th–6th c. BC. layers of Noka-
lakevi revealed remains of walnut and hazelnut.54
2.5 Fruits
Sources of monosaccharides, fructose as well as glucose, are also attested in an-
cient Colchis according to palynological data. Remains of grapes are found in the
layers of the 6th c. BC in Nokalakevi.55 Fossilized remains of vine grape, recov-
ered from settlements in Colchis, including Eshera, Dablagomi, Sokhumi, Gye-
nos, Ergeta, Bichvinta, Tchkhorotskhu, and Nosiri indicate that grape was widely
cultivated in the classical period.56 The discovery of seeds of V. vinifera ssp.
44
Bokeria / Amman / Kebuladze, 2009: 142.
45
Bokeria, 2010: 27.
46
Bokeria, 2010: 27.
47
Bokeria, 2014: 2.
48
Bokeria et al., 2009: 142.
49
Bokeria et al., 2009: 142.
50
Bokeria et al., 2009: 143.
51
Bokeria et al., 2009: 143.
52
Lordkipanidze, 1972: 29.
53
Chichinadze et al., 2019: 26; Chichinadze / Kvavadze / Martkoplishvili, 2017: 113.
54
Bokeria, 2010: 26.
55
Bokeria et al., 2009: 143.
56
Bokeria et al., 2009: 144.
Food and Drinks in Ancient Diaeuhi and Colchis 331
sativa and V. vinifera ssp. sylvestris are linked by some authors to viticulture and
wine making.57 Grapevine was also found in Vani.58 One remain of fig was also
found in Nokalakevi, which is considered to be imported here59 since this is the
only sample from Western Georgian archaeological sites associated with the
history of Colchis.
2.6 Honey
The use of honey is quite well attested in ancient Colchis. Its trace was found in
Vani60 alongside with the remnants of melliferous plants. As outlined by M. Chi-
chinadze, “their good state of preservation and high concentration represent a
solid argument in favour of the existence of honey and its products in the palyno-
logical spectrum”.61 Also, honey was found in a 4th c. BC vessel from Vani, and
“the discovery of hairs, claws and epidermis of bees in the sample of the
oenochoe, as well as honey-bearing plants, proved existence of honey in this ves-
sel”.62 The use of honey is well attested even at much earlier sites in Georgia, for
instance at Kodiani, dated back to the 27th–25th c. BC.63 While Kodiani is located
in Eastern Georgia, the fact itself is still interesting for the study of the region.
Honey was used not only as a food, but also to mellify human bodies,64 which
might indicate on abundance of this product in the region.
57
Maghradze et al., 2016: 4.
58
Chichinadze et al., 2019: 26; Chichinadze / Kvavadze / Martkopilishvili 2017: 113.
59
Bokeria, 2010: 26.
60
Chichinadze et al., 2019: 29.
61
Chichinadze et al., 2019: 29.
62
Chichinadze / Kvavadze / Martkoplishvili, 2017: 114.
63
Kvavadze, 2006: S595.
64
Chichinadze et al., 2019: 32.
65
Chichinadze et al., 2019: 29.
66
Puturidze, 1976: 79.
67
McGovern, et al., 2017.
332 Natia Phiphia / Omari Dzadzamia
4. Conclusion
This evidence gives us the opportunity to discuss to what extent the diet in this
region was balanced. It appears that it was indeed rich and balanced. The main
sources of energy (carbohydrates) were grain – millet, foxtail millet, and wheat.
Millet and foxtail millet were presumably produced in Colchis, while wheat pos-
sibly from Diaeuhi since we have indication to bulls taken as a tribute from here
and this may serve as an indirect indication to this. Fruits and honey were other
sources of carbohydrates. Legumes were also an important part of the diet, which
could serve as a source of both carbohydrates and proteins. Major animal protein
sources were dairy products, also beef, pork alongside with sheep and goat, which
were used to a smaller extent. Nuts – hazelnut, walnut and chestnut – were sources
of healthy fats. Flax seeds and nuts contain a lot of plant-based omega 3 while
fish served as a source of both healthy fat and animal proteins. Sources of natural
sugar were fruits and honey, which also served as major sources for all essential
minerals and vitamins. Thus, the diet in this region was balanced to a higher extent
68
kvevri and dergi both are conical clay vessels for wine, kvevri is smaller one while dergi
refers to bigger one, some of them (dergi) were so big that they were even used to bury
the dead.
69
Lordkipanidze et al., 1981: 60–74.
70
Vachadze, 2018: 159.
71
Puturidze, 1976: 79–90.
Food and Drinks in Ancient Diaeuhi and Colchis 333
– people living here had all necessary nutrients. Additionally, their diet was
enriched with drinks, for example, wine.
Abbreviations
RIMA 2: Grayson, A., 1991: Assyrian Rulers of the Early First Millennium BC II
(1114–859 BC). Toronto: University of Toronto Press.
eCUT: Electronic Corpus of Urartian Texts. Available at: http://oracc.museum.
upenn.edu/ecut/
Arist. Hist. an.: Aristotle, Historia Animalium. Translated by D’Arcy Wentworth
Thompson. Available at: http://classics.mit.edu/Aristotle/history_anim.html
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334 Natia Phiphia / Omari Dzadzamia
The “banquet scene”, in its different variants, is one of the most popular iconogra-
phies in Ancient Near East figurative documentation. The depiction is mainly re-
lated to supports connected with local authorities, such as the palace and the tem-
ple, especially during the Early Dynastic and Akkadian periods. Among the ma-
terial found at Tell Ashara / Terqa, situated on the right bank of the lower Middle
Euphrates, the French team, directed by O. Rouault, had brought to light some
objects with the depiction of the “banquet scene”. The material, presented here,
consists of cylinder seals and a bone pendent, possibly a stamp seal, dated back
to the third millennium; and terracotta plaquettes and a cylinder seal dated back
to the first half of the second millennium B.C. The “banquet scene” that recurs on
Terqa artefacts has some peculiarities: the material from the third millennium does
not necessarily appear on official documents; the findings from the second mil-
lennium are varied in their supports, attesting a certain importance of the image
at the site even during this period.
The aim of this contribution is a reconsideration of all the material, on with
the depiction of the “banquet scene” recurs, discovered at Terqa in the light of the
most recent interpretations that consider the image to be an important source that
helps to understand the social dynamics that developed within the site where they
were found. Therefore, an examination of the iconographic transformation of the
motif and of the different supports on which it is represented, from the second to
the third millennium, can provide information on the very change in the meaning
of the image and its value within Terqa society.
*
University of Pavia.
338 Paola Poli
the ancient Mari, with which its culture and history have been connected for a
long time.
The toponym Terqa was already known at the beginning of the 20th century,
thanks to the publication by F. Thureau-Dangin of cuneiform texts from the site.
Already identified as an important site for research in ancient Syrian and Meso-
potamian studies by E. Herzeld, in 1923 F. Thureau-Dangin and E. Dhorme
(Thureau-Dangin / Dhorme, 1924) carried out a first sounding at Ashara, collect-
ing some information about the history of Terqa. However, after the discovery of
Mari at Tell Hariri, the first regular archaeological investigations started much
later, in 1976, when an American mission directed by G. Buccellati (UCLA) un-
dertook excavations at the site that lasted until 1985. After that, further archaeo-
logical research was carried out by the French Archaeological Mission of Tell
Ashara / Terqa, directed by O. Rouault (University of Lyons) until 2010, when
the rise of the war in Syria made it impossible to work there.
While this segment of the Euphrates valley has been settled since the
Chalcolithic period, archaeological investigations at the urban site of Terqa have
revealed the presence of important levels of occupation since the beginning of the
middle of the third millennium BC.
The most ancient levels date back to the Early Bronze Age I. A domestic quar-
ter and tombs equipped with rich grave goods belong to the phase attributed to the
Early Bronze Age III–IVa (ca. 2550–2150 BC). At the end of the third millen-
nium, Terqa, integrated into the Mari state, was governed by the Shakkanakku,
the title of the kings of Mari in that period, and shared its culture. Later during the
Middle Bronze II, in the Amorite period, Terqa was under the political control of
Mari, until the destruction of the capital by Hammurabi of Babylon. Terqa how-
ever escaped the same fate, probably because of its religious importance, as a
temple of the regional god Dagan was situated there. Terqa then became the cap-
ital of the area called the “Land of Hana”, which lasted until the end of Late
Bronze Age.1
1
For the tablets found at Terqa, see Rouault, 1984 and more recently Rouault, 2011. The
publication of an important archive from the Public Building of Area E is in preparation
(see Rouault, 1992). For an introduction on the site of Terqa and the more recent excava-
tions, see Rouault, 1998; 2000; 2001. See also the reports published in Athenaeum – Studi
di Letteratura e Storia del’Antichità, Università di Pavia, every year from 2001 to 2009,
and in the series ‘Akh Purattim – Les Rives de l’Euphrate’, Publications de la Maison de
l’Orient et de la Méditerranée et du Ministère des Affaires Etrangères et Européennes
français, 1 (2007), 2 (2007) and 3 (in press).
The Iconography of the “Banquet Scene” 339
1994: 15).2 A variant shows only two drinkers in front of a big jar, while they
drink through tubes from the jar.
The “banquet scene”, in general, is a popular subject in third millennium
iconographic documentation. The general assumption is that this scene appeared
in Mesopotamia during the Early Dynastic II period, reaching its maximum level
of diffusion during the Early Dynastic III and the Akkadian periods.3 Recently,
D. Stein has pointed out that the theme is much more ancient, and not restricted
to Mesopotamian culture: beyond the PPNB cases, similar representations recur
on vessels or cups dated back to the sixth millennium BC.4 Some examples are
painted on Halaf recipients, several on Ubaid stamp seals, and Uruk glyptic art.
Insisting on the evidence concerning the consumption of alcohol or other sub-
stances that alter the consciousness, she interprets the motif as a symbolic repre-
sentation of a specific ritual act, involving the communication with the gods, or
with the world of the dead. Moreover, the particular importance of this icono-
graphic motif is probably shown by the materials used for some of the seals. It has
been pointed out that most of the cylinder seals with “banquet scenes” found in
the Royal Cemetery of Ur are made in lapis lazuli (Selz, 1983: 461; Pittman, 1998:
76; Stein, 2021: 451).
It is in the renewed contexts of research on the motif, mentioned above, that it
is interesting to look at the evidence from Terqa, on which the “banquet scene”
recurs. This iconography is associated with different types of materials, showing
in its evolution a continuity between the late Early Bronze Age and the Amorite
period and culture.
2
As the “banquet scene” is one of the most popular representations in Ancient Near East
documentation, it has been the object of different methodological studies. For the bibliog-
raphy relating to the meaning of the iconography of the banquet scene, see Pinnock, 1994:
18–21; Romano, 2015: 289. For a reconsideration of the bibliography on the subject and a
review of the most important arguments for a revised interpretation of the scene see Stein,
2021: 441–444.
3
The subject of the banquet with two drinkers through tubes also occurs in the glyptic
documentation of the so–called Dilmun culture. For few examples see Beyer, 1986: nn
167–168; Kjaerum, 1983: nn. 170–179; more recently Crawford, 2001: n. 4741; Højlund,
2007: n.1. According to L. Peyronel (2000:187, note 49) the motif would be of Mesopo-
tamian origin and would have been assimilated by the Dilmun culture in the Akkadian
period. On the iconographic relations between the Arabian Gulf and Mesopotamia see
Peyronel, 2008. For a recent overview of the Dilmum Glyptic see Laursen, 2018.
4
Stein, 2020: 178; 2021: 444.
340 Paola Poli
The representation is arranged on two registers. Above: an eagle and fighting an-
imals are identifiable. Below: two characters are seated, facing each other, with a
table, maybe an altar between them. The representation is engraved in a very styl-
ised and schematic way. According to the report, the seal was part of the funerary
equipment of a grave. It has been dated by M. Pic (1997b: 167, 177) to the Early
Dynastic II–III (2600–2340) period.5
More recently, the French mission has discovered another cylinder seal (TQ25
236) in white stone, which is probably calcite (Fig. 2). Even though the represen-
tation is poorly preserved, it is possible to reconstruct its basic structure on the
base of a few parallels6 (Fig. 3). The representation is again on two registers.
Above: two seated personages, wearing long kaunakes (the classic cloak of
wool flocks), in front of each other. The best preserved character is depicted with
his arm bent forwards and he is possibly holding a cup in his hand.
Below: thin traces suggest that an eagle and two animals (probably goats) were
originally represented. The item can be attributed to the same period as the previ-
ous seal: the Early Dynastic II–III.
5
Pic, 1997b: 167, 177, fig. 24.
6
Amiet, 1980: nn. 1172, 1175, 1177, 1178, pl. 89.
The Iconography of the “Banquet Scene” 341
Fig. 3: Cylinder seal design n. 1178, after Amiet, 1989: Pl. 89.
Among the evidence brought to light at Terqa, the “banquet scene” is not only
represented on cylinder seals. This is the case of an artifact (TQ 25 168) rarer in
its form, finding less punctual parallels (Figs. 4–5).7 It was found in a fill at-
tributed to the phase Terqa IV.0, dated around 2500–2450 BC.8 The object is a
small piece of animal bone, rectangular in shape; one side is flat, while the oppo-
site side is slightly curved. It is pierced longitudinally and engraved on both sides:
the figurative representation of the particular banquet scene is reproduced on the
curved side.
7
Poli, 2007: 428, 431–432, fig. 14; 2014; 2019.
8
For the stratigraphy of this area of this area of the excavation see Rouault, 2008; 2009;
Rouault / al Showan, 2015a; 2015b.
342 Paola Poli
Figs. 4–5: Bone pendent TQ 25 168, side with banquet and geometric motif, from the
archaeological mission.
On the main side, there is a well-preserved depiction of the “banquet scene” in the
variant showing two personages represented, both sitting on stools – marked by
small columns or vertical elements – and drinking through straws from a common
jar, placed between them.9 The recipient, with a round base, is standing on a
structure shaped like two circles, which may be interpreted as a kind of pedestal.
As for the human figures, they are facing each other, possibly with one arm raised
behind their heads: the quality of the incision on the bone does not allow precision
in the rendering of the posture. They seem not to be wearing the kaunakes, but at
least one of them has a high headdress on his head. In the field above the vessel
and between the two straws, there is an oval-shaped symbol or filling motif.
The scene is carved in a crude style, but peculiar aspects of the artefact, both
of an iconographic and morphological nature make the object original, uncommon
in the range of the figurative evidence of the banquet scene, to which the sitting
position of the drinkers is connected. The arm raised behind the head of the char-
acters is certainly an anomalous position in a “banquet” situation, and it could
possibly correspond to a ritual act; most of the other scenes represent drinking
personages with their arms in front of them bent at the breast. This peculiar or-
ganisation of the iconography has no immediate parallels.
On the other side of the object, an abstract or geometric decoration is engraved,
evoking a vegetal motif and a snake.10
9
The liquid drunk by the two characters is generally understood as a type of beer called
KAŠ2-SU-RA (strained beer). See Selz, 1983: 447–448; Romano, 2012: 273.
10
These very schematic representations could be interpreted as visual elements that, ac-
cording to D. Stein, compare on many cylinder seals with the “banquet scene”. These rep-
resentations relate to the imagery of the ceremony. During funerary and sacrificial drinking
rites, in fact, the assumption of alcohol and possibly drugs had the function to help the
subject to loosen his consciousness and to reach altered states. On this topic see Stein,
2017.
The Iconography of the “Banquet Scene” 343
The particular form of the artefact does not help us to identify its real function.
It can be suggested that it was a stamp seal, but it would certainly have only been
used on particular occasions as the fragility of the material would not have al-
lowed for its everyday use without breaking it.
On the other hand, beyond the possibility that it could be a sealing device, it
can also be proposed that this bone artefact was a personal ornament. The
longitudinal hole suggests that, in any case, the artefact could be suspended and,
as is also true for the seals, used as jewellery. H. Pittman argues that seals were
suspended from pendants, pins, and belts, or worn at the wrist. (Pittman, 1998:
77). In this position, the side of the object with this specific version of the
“banquet scene” was easily visible and identifiable. The display of a such an
image and symbol was intentional and obviously meaningful.
The reason why an engraved object with a significant representation was made
on animal bone, a fragile material, certainly more common and less prestigious
than other materials, remains unclear, at least for the moment.
11
On this topic see Pollock, 2003; Cohen, 2005 especially chap. 5. See also Stein, 2021:
442: note 8 for bibliography.
344 Paola Poli
the end of the Late Bronze Age.12 It is a common motif on cylinder seals of the
Old Syrian Popular Style, on which a single sitting personage is represented,
drinking from a recipient with long straw (Otto, 2019: 711–712). The same motif
recurs on a terracotta basin from Tall Bazi.13
At Terqa, the “banquet scene”, in the variant marked by the presence of two
personages around a jar, is well attested during the Middle Bronze Age. Four
terracotta plaquettes have been found in Old Babylonian levels, as well as one
mould used for their production, showing a much more common, even popular
use and circulation of this kind of objects during this period. The iconography
represented is the same, but with some changes: two personages, now standing up
(no longer seated), are drinking using two long straws from the same vessel,
placed between them. The recipient has a different form and capacity, and it stands
either directly on the ground, or elevated, on a support. Notwithstanding the
modifications, the general structure of the iconography is the same, allowing for
an easy identification of the scene: a ceremonial act closely related to the con-
sumption of beer.
The two figures are always identical and symmetrical, as if in a mirror.
However, the plaquettes show a deliberate taste and interest in differentiating their
aspect, changing for example the representation of their dress, headdresses, and
other iconographic details. Moreover, the scene is delimitated now by the limits
of the plaquette, sometimes marked by a frame, which, in the lower part, is in a
case incised with scales, to represent a mountain landscape.
On the plaquettes TQ21 031, TQ21 037 (Figs. 6–7), produced from the same
mould, two bearded figures are wearing a high headdress, a short skirt with a cen-
tral fringe, and they are grasping a weapon, possibly an axe (?) in one hand.14
These two objects were part of the equipment found in a grave.
On the plaquette fragment TQ 18 055 (Fig. 8), it is possible to identify a
bearded personage wearing a long tunic, open in the front. He grasps another kind
of weapon: may be a “Harpé”, a curved sword (?). The object is similar to the
weapon that the gods hold on contemporary cylinder seals. The entire scene is
framed by a decorative motif.
On the mould Deir ez-Zor 4841 (Fig. 9) the representation is close to the
plaquettes TQ21 037 and 021.15 The scene differs mainly for the presence of the
mountain motif under the two personages, and for the frame around it, marked by
parallel, inclined lines, separating the surface where the personages and the jar are
standing from the mountain.
12
On the evolution from the banquet to the presentation scene, see Zajdowski, 2013.
13
Otto, 2019: fig. 6.
14
See Poli, 2001: 640–641, fig. 13.
15
The mould was found on the surface during American excavations.
The Iconography of the “Banquet Scene” 345
Figs. 6–7: Terracotta plaquettes; TQ21 031 (left), TQ21 037 (right); from the archive
of the archaeological mission.
Figs. 8–9: (Left) terracotta plaquette TQ 18 055, from the archive of the archaeological
mission; (right) mould, Deir ez-Zor 4841, from Weygand, 2016: 516, fig. 9, b.
On the plaquette TQ12 10041 (Fig. 10) the two personages are quite different
from the usual representations. They look proportionally bigger, and they are
closer each other; they are wearing a long and possibly decorated tunic, and a
ronde-hat (polos); they are not armed.
Obviously, the Terqa tradition is not isolated. Similar objects have been dis-
covered in the Middle Euphrates region: some plaquettes come from Mari,16 oth-
ers from Haradum.17 An example has been found at Sfiré,18 near Aleppo. There-
fore, it is clear that this kind of object and its representation was common and
probably popular at the beginning of the second millennium, in various Syrian
geographic areas, especially west of the Euphrates.
As we cannot exactly define the religious or mythologic references of this
drinking scene, it is difficult to establish the function of these objects, and the
context of their use. Using clay, they are made with a mould, probably in every
ceramic workshop. It is evident that the important symbolic meaning of the image
of the “banquet scene”, strictly linked with the palace and the temple (and their
ceremonials) during the third millennium, was then lost, but other meanings of
the image may have survived and been reinterpreted and adapted to new religious
needs and rituals.
According to I. Weygand,19 who has very recently written a contribution on
the same material, the armed personages can be tentatively interpreted as warriors,
the others, in long tunics, as dignitaries. She also suggests that the armed person-
ages were dressed in parade suits, representing the dancers and the acrobats who,
according to the written sources, animated city and palace feasts and celebrations.
From the discoveries at Terqa, the archaeological context in which two iden-
tical plaquettes were found seems an important information to advance: they were
part of the material found in a burial. The ceremony represented on the two objects
can be linked with a funerary celebration, or in any case, to ceremonials aiding
the communication with, or even the passage to, the world of the dead. On the
other hand, we should not forget that the Syrian Euphrates (from Tuttul to Terqa)
and the regions to the west were considered as the land under the authority of the
god Dagan. This god had a definite chthonian nature – he was called the “great
mountain” at Ugarit – and was connected to cereal production. Beer itself is the
result of the fermentation of cereals, and, besides the effects of alcohol consump-
tion, it could open a way to enter his world.
16
Two plaquettes have been found at Mari: M.1506 (Parrot, 1959: XXIX/1506; 75; Badre,
1980: pl. XXIX/67) and TH07.34 (Weigand, 2016: 517, fig.10/a–c). According to
Weigand the two plaquettes from Mari are produced from the same mould (Weygand,
2016: 517, note 25).
17
Kempinski-Lecomte, 1992: 414.
18
Beyer, 1996: 23, fig. 1–2.
19
Weygand, 2016.
The Iconography of the “Banquet Scene” 347
While some aspects are different, a scene related with these themes also recurs
on the cylinder seal TQ24 032 (Fig. 11), found at Terqa.
Fig. 11: Cylinder seal TQ24 032, from the archive of the archaeological mission.
It was discovered in a pit and is dated to the Old Babylonian period.20 It shows
two nude, standing male figures drinking, with long straws, from a big vessel sit-
uated between them. They wear a polos-hat. Similar human figures, but in a dif-
ferent scene, recur on other seals dated to the same period. According to E.
Porada21 they are worshippers. The ritual scene is completed by the presence of a
fantastical creature, presenting horse hooves and a human head.
5. General conclusions
To conclude, it is important to point out that the information presented here is
only a preliminary work on this specific iconographic motif, the first step of the
research, starting from a specific archaeological context and culture. This contri-
bution stresses the continuity of the scene over a long period, its evolution and the
diffusion beyond its original users – the elite class. It was appreciated and ex-
ploited by a larger part of the urban population, who kept the memory of its value
and of its meaning, even though they used it in other contexts.
In order to better define this traditional, ancestral meaning, a recent contribu-
tion by D. Stein should be quoted (Stein, 2021: 594). She underlines ways of using
alcohol in antiquity, during ceremonies and its effect on feast participants. She
20
Poli, 2005: 678–679, fig. 10.
21
Porada, 1948: nn. 542–553.
348 Paola Poli
writes: “The ritual consumption of alcohol helped to facilitate the journey of the
deceased and to establish contact with the spiritual world. Both these objectives
lie at the heart of Sumerian funerary rituals, which were meant to liberate the soul
from body and take care of the corpse. Traces of similar funerary practices are
encountered throughout the ancient Near East”.
The documentation from Terqa, presented in this contribution, represents
some “traces” of funerary rites, but also a way to relate with the world of nature,
where life and death have the same weight. At this stage of the research, it is
impossible to advance further conclusions.
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The Iconography of the “Banquet Scene” 351
Ludovico Portuese*
This paper explores the Assyrian royal banquet through a sociological and anthro-
pological analysis of the extant visual evidence from the first millennium BCE. It
focuses specifically on the immaterial aspects of commensality (hierarchies, po-
sitions, gestures, etiquette, proxemic, hygiene), the study of which reveals that
these contributed to the integrity of a culture and the evolutionary success of the
group.
1. Introduction
As observed by Georg Simmel, eating and drinking are primitive, individual, and
egotistical physiological facts. Further, as such they are shared by virtue of being
essentially common activities. Commensality, or the practice of eating and drink-
ing together, and its sociological structure is thus a spontaneous and direct fact of
nature; an act of selfishness, primitiveness, and universal material interest is
turned into an occasion of “immeasurable sociological significance”.1 In a nut-
shell, the very naturalness and primitiveness of eating and drinking is what makes
it so fundamentally social.
Although studied throughout anthropology and sociology, as well as in the
social sciences and the humanities, the social functions of commensality, as a
cross-cultural and transhistorical phenomenon, vary greatly from culture to cul-
ture.2 The etymological history of the word suggests its complexity: commensal-
ity may imply the sharing of food and drink (com-mensalis), but also the sharing
of a table, a place, or a moment (com-mensa), or alternatively the costs of a meal
* Università degli Studi di Messina. – This paper is part of the project GALATEO – Good
Attitudes for Life in Assyrian Times: Etiquette and Observance of Norms in Male and
Female Groups, which has received funding from the European Union’s Horizon 2020
research and innovation programme under the Marie Skłodowska-Curie grant agreement
No 101027543. The information contained in this article reflects only the author’s view.
1
Simmel, 1997: 130.
2
For an examination of the importance of commensality, with a specific view on the an-
cient Near East, see the contributions in Pollock, 2012 and, with a special focus on Meso-
potamia in the first millennium BCE, see Ermidoro, 2015: 39–43.
354 Ludovico Portuese
(commensalia).3 Either way, the word commensality always recalls a material di-
mension, above all the table (mensa), the utensils of the meal, the spatial context
where the food and drink are consumed, and the financial contribution to the meal.
However, commensality also involves some immaterial aspects which are directly
linked to the participants, the way in which they interact with each other, the set-
ting (both physical and psychological), the food and the drink, and in turn the
ways that material aspects influence and are influenced by immaterial ones. Com-
mensality is an example of the existence of behavioural rules, of prescribed ges-
tures and manners that regulate the consumption of the repast or the content of
conversations, and that govern the hierarchical organization of banqueters and
their movements. Although the immaterial dimensions of commensality may be
hidden or not stated explicitly, they are fundamental 1) in creating and reinforcing
social bonds, and 2) in generating a sense of belonging to the same community in
order to preserve it. It is exactly these two aspects that I would like to outline in
this paper through the analysis of some immaterial dimensions which the repre-
sentation of first-millennium Assyrian royal banquets, I believe, strives to display,
and which sociology and anthropology may help to reveal.4
Artists in the Assyrian period elevate an event of physiological primitiveness
into the sphere of social interaction. Being represented with specific inner artistic
organizations, the external act of feeding and drinking becomes a sociological
matter and, to quote Simmel, “arranges itself in a more aesthetic, stylized and
supra-individually regulated form”.5 The best visual evidence of a banquet at the
court of the Assyrian king comes from an Assyrian ivory plaque from Fort Shal-
maneser at Kalhu (Fig. 1) and the reliefs of rooms 2 and 7 (Fig. 2) in the royal
palace of Sargon II at Dur-Sharrukin.6 In the main scene, the Assyrian royal ban-
quet is basically portrayed through groups of seated banqueters who face each
other across a table with foodstuff, raise beakers to drink or make a toast, and who
are surrounded by standing attendants.7 The king is apparently absent from the
palace reliefs, although he must have been represented somewhere, as in the ivory
plaque from Kalhu.8
3
Jönsson et al., 2021: 1–2.
4
For an anthropological approach to banquet in Assyria, see Ermidoro, 2015.
5
Simmel, 1997: 131.
6
For the entire sequence of reliefs from Sargon II’s royal palace, see Botta / Flandin, 1849:
pls. 52–76, 107–114.
7
There seems to be no foodstuff on the tables of the ivory plaque. Moreover, one person
is depicted in the act of receiving an object (food? handkerchief?) from an attendant and
is not drinking. For a detailed description of these images, see Albenda, 1986: 80–82. For
an analysis of the scenes and their significance, see Matthiae, 2012; Winter, 2016; Ermi-
doro, 2015: 227–228; Portuese, 2020: 81–86, 175–176.
8
Reade, 1979: 81; Winter, 2016: 43.
The Assyrian Royal Banquet 355
As already pointed out, these banquet scenes, perhaps including the ivory
plaque, must probably be considered as a direct and positive consequence of spe-
cific activities, such as the war and the hunt depicted in the lower registers of
rooms 2 and 7.9 Thus, they probably do not represent daily meals, but exceptional
episodes which were likely organized in the royal palace to celebrate and com-
memorate a specific event. Now, as observed by Claude Grignon, commensality
is a manifestation of pre-existing social groups, whose differences and classifica-
tions can be based on age, gender, and ethnic identity, or on voluntary associations
of a political and/or religious nature.10
9
Matthiae, 2012: 482–483; Winter, 2016.
10
Grignon, 2001: 24.
356 Ludovico Portuese
11
Grignon, 2001: 26.
12
Portuese, 2020.
13
Grignon, 2001: 28–29.
14
Botta / Flandin, 1849: pls. 10–23; see also pl. 30.
15
SAA 20 33: i 2 – i 3, r i 50 – r i 52. For an-in-depth examination of this text, see Ermi-
doro, 2015: 161–189.
The Assyrian Royal Banquet 357
he is seated apart and is distinguished by his high-backed seat, dress, size, and
paraphernalia. Similarly, on the same plaque the figure immediately in front of
the king is visually differentiated by his position and the diadem he wears, which
has ribbons attached to it and is a marker of the crown prince.16 This suggests that
tables closer to the king’s table were occupied by the most important and trusted
persons by the king: the closer that one was to the king’s table, the more important
was his position within the Assyrian court hierarchy. Moreover, it is likely that
each table represented a specific rank of officials. Notwithstanding such a hierar-
chical organization, a remarkable cohesiveness can be highlighted from the posi-
tion and arrangement of the banqueters.
From an anthropological perspective, we are informed that a setting can offer
many types of behavioural opportunities which may facilitate or hinder social be-
haviour. The design of a space and its semi-fixed features can dramatically alter
these social affordances relative to the occupants who are disposed to use it. In
this respect, the terms sociopetal and sociofugal are environmental psychological
concepts used to denote such designs.17 The basic difference between them lies in
the fact that these contrasting social settings facilitate (sociopetal) or inhibit (so-
ciofugal) social interaction. Thus, a sociopetal room tends to bring people together
and affords interaction by orienting occupants toward each other, whereas a soci-
ofugal space may have boundary walls and seats which face away from each other
and it tends to discourage meetings or conversations between individuals, thereby
inhibiting interaction (Fig. 3).
16
Winter, 2016: 52; Portuese, 2020: 71.
17
Osmond, 1957; Sommer, 1967. See also Hall, 1966: 108–111. More recently, see
Meagher / Marsh, 2017.
358 Ludovico Portuese
The proportion of the room length to width, the furniture arrangement, and the
furniture density all constitute the primary variables which affect social interac-
tion and reflect the operational definition of sociopetality and sociofugality. The
physical setting of the Assyrian banquet imagery is unknown, but it is likely that
room 2 and similar oblong rooms may have been the physical venue for such
meetings.18 Tables could be set in line along this room, but they could have been
also placed side by side. In either case, what we see in the banquet scenes is a
setting closer to a sociopetal arrangement (Fig. 4), the aim being to facilitate and
promote interaction between banqueters.
Fig. 4: The sociopetal setting of the Assyrian royal banquet (Botta / Flandin, 1849:
pl. 64; drawing by author).
18
For the floorplan, see Portuese, 2020: fig. 11.
19
Hall, 1966: 113–129.
The Assyrian Royal Banquet 359
easily “get his hands on” someone else.20 Such an intimacy between banqueters
and their arrangement in units of four individuals per table suggests that this was
a way to activate and tighten internal solidarity within specific micro-groups. In-
stead, it is likely that the king was seated at a social distance (1.2–3.5 m), where
intimate visual details in the face were not perceived, and nobody could touch the
king unless some special effort was taken. At this distance, nonetheless, voice
level may be normal, and conversations could be conducted at a normal level.
20
Hall, 1966: 120.
21
Cifarelli, 1998: 215; Portuese, 2020: 111.
22
For a selection of reasons from earlier studies on why the drinking act metonymically
stands for the banquet itself, see Portuese / Scalisi, 2021: 137–142. For an anthropological
approach to drinking alcoholic beverages, see Dietler, 1990.
23
The term conviviality further complicates or enriches the notion of commensality, since
it focuses on the friendly and enjoyable aspect of being together (Jönsson et al., 2021: 2).
24
Portuese / Scalisi, 2021: 140–141.
25
Gaspa, 2014: 25–33.
360 Ludovico Portuese
performed within temples, which is a further indicator of its special status.26 This
implies that, by being involved in a lay banquet and being proffered to guests, the
object was highly significant, marking the event as very exceptional and, since it
was held by all banqueters, an egalitarian symbol. Although it is expected that in
similar circumstances the king proffered to his guests delicate kinds of vessels and
fine pieces of furniture, the lion-headed cup held in the hands of the banqueters
turns the event into a very special occasion. In fact, the use of special objects
together with the presence of music (on relief 21, room 2) leads me to adopt an-
other term from anthropology to describe the Sargonid banquets, namely the no-
tion of feast. The feast is defined as an event that involves “some combination of
elements including exotic foods often prepared and served in special vessels”, that
“may be held in special locations” and involves “symbolically charged practices
that differentiate and privilege feasting from other meals”.27 This term expands
and adds value to the definition of commensality, and can be used in this context
for other aspects as well. In fact, Sargon II’s feasting is made unique not only by
special or splendid meals or dining objects or the location, but also by the presence
of splendid company: those different Assyrian high-ranking officials (themselves
distinguished by garments) whom the king eats with is as important as what he
eats and what he eats on and from. But the uniqueness of the event does not imply
that feasting was itself a rare phenomenon. As noted by Joan M. Gero, feasting
should rather be seen “as a regularly occurring social practice, one that is involved
and evoked at many points in the intensification of power relations between rulers
and ruled. Feasts generally seek to accomplish the shared participation of persons
of different ranks, and these persons are brought together in a single setting that
intensifies the very socio-political divides that it also bridges and subverts”.28 This
means that the feasts which we see celebrated on Sargon II’s reliefs were powerful
tools, both in reality and as visual messages, which were used by the king to define
relationships and boundaries, and thereby unite and divide at the same time. Social
distinctions were thus affirmed through the performance of feasts.29
Finally, although I do not wish to venture into a debate that would require a
focused analysis, I would like to point out that the rules of appropriate behaviour
may be justified by their basis in commonly held moral principles and ideals, per-
haps deriving from a military context.30 Conventions which govern the act of
drinking or the stances which are maintained at the king’s table should not be
26
Gaspa, 2014: 29; Ermidoro, 2015: 228. On the provenance and related meaning of the
lion-headed cups depicted on Sargon II’s reliefs, see Stronach, 1996: 186–191; Gaspa,
2014: 30–33; Gunter, 2020: 149–156, and earlier bibliography in Portuese, 2020: 76.
27
Joyce, 2010: 225.
28
Gero, 2003: 286.
29
Dietler, 2001: 77–78.
30
Cifarelli, 1998: 215.
The Assyrian Royal Banquet 361
31
See, in particular, Buss, 1999; Stohr, 2012; 2018.
32
https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/hygiene.
33
SAA 20 33: ii 16 – ii 19.
34
SAA 20 33: ii 20 – ii 21.
35
SAA 10 318; SAA 19 22: r 16 – r 22.
36
SAA 1 247.
37
SAA 18 181: 19–22.
362 Ludovico Portuese
In conclusion, what emerges from this brief analysis of the immaterial aspects of
commensality is that, both in reality and in iconography, there was an effort to
implement and represent those strategies that were carefully chosen to preserve
the integrity of a very small group of people. These strategies contributed towards
the evolutionary success of that group. Through the primitive origins of commen-
sality, a society is somehow formed and held together: sharing and incorporating
food implies the incorporation of the partaker into the community and simultane-
ously defines his or her place within it. In this regard, Pasi Falk highlights the
bidirectional value of the eating mouth, both in incorporating the food of the com-
munity into one’s body and “being eaten into the community”.38 This bond is cre-
ated primarily by sharing. However, I would emphasise that, especially within an
institutional and segregative form of commensality which exists to celebrate a
common success or exceptional event, more immaterial aspects work in tandem
with the material ones in order to incorporate or “eat” partakers into the commu-
nity and thereby forge, reinforce, and protect the integrity of a single group, at the
same time defining the place occupied by each individual within the same group.
Socially speaking, the members of Assyrian royal society were what they ate.
Abbreviations
SAA 1 see Parpola, 1987.
SAA 10 see Parpola, 1993.
SAA 18 see Reynolds, 2003.
SAA 19 see Luukko, 2012.
SAA 20 see Parpola, 2017.
Bibliography
Albenda, P., 1986: The Palace of Sargon, King of Assyria. Monumental Wall Re-
liefs at Dur-Sharrukin, from Original Drawings Made at the Time of Their
Discovery in 1843–1844 by Botta and Flandin. Paris: Editions Recherche sur
les Civilisations.
Botta, M. P. E. / Flandin, M. E., 1849: Monument de Ninive, Vols. I/2. Paris:
Imprimerie Nationale.
Buss, S., 1999: “Appearing Respectful: The Moral Significance of Manners”. Eth-
ics 109/4: 795–826.
Cifarelli, M., 1998: “Gesture and Alterity in the Art of Ashurnasirpal II of As-
syria”. The Art Bulletin 80/2: 210–228.
Dietler, M., 1990: “Driven by Drink: The Role of Drinking in the Political Econ-
omy and the Case of Early Iron Age France”. Journal of Anthropological Ar-
chaeology 9: 352–406.
38
Falk, 1994: 20.
The Assyrian Royal Banquet 363
Parpola, S., 1993: Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars. State Archives
of Assyria 10. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press.
— Parpola, S., 2017: Assyrian Royal Rituals and Cultic Texts. State Archives of
Assyria 20. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns.
Pollock, S., (ed.): 2012: Between Feasts and Daily Meals: Toward an Archaeol-
ogy of Commensal Spaces. eTopoi. Journal for Ancient Studies 2.
Portuese, L., 2020: Life at Court. Ideology and Audience in the Late Assyrian
Palace. marru 11. Münster: Zaphon.
Portuese, L. / Scalisi, P. M., 2021: “Galateo. A New Project Paving the Way for
the Study of Manners and Etiquette in the Ancient Near East”. Oriens An-
tiquus, Series Nova III: 129–144.
Reade, J. E., 1979: “Narrative Composition in Assyrian Sculpture”. Baghdader
Mitteilungen 10: 52–110.
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to Assurbanipal and Sin-šarru-iškun from Northern and Central Babylonia.
State Archives of Assyria 18. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press.
Simmel, G., 1997: “Sociology of the Meal”. In D. Frisby / M. Featherstone (eds.):
Simmel on Culture: Selected Writings. London: Sage, 130–135.
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654–660.
Stohr, K., 2012: On Manners. New York / London: Routledge.
— 2018: “The Etiquette of Eating”. In A. Barnhill / M. Budolfson / T. Doggett
(eds.): The Oxford Handbook of Food Ethics. Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 700–721
Stronach, D., 1996: “The Imagery of the Wine Bowl: Wine in Assyria in the Early
First Millennium B.C”. In P. E. McGovern / S. J. Fleming / S. H. Katz (eds.):
The Origins and Ancient History of Wine. Food and Nutrition in History and
Anthropology 11. Amsterdam: Gordon and Breach Publishers, 175–195.
Winter, I. J., 2016: “The Court Banquets of Sargon II of Assyria: Commensality
as a Positive Affirmation of the (Successful) Hunt and Battle”. In G. Bartolini
/ M. G. Biga (eds.): Not Only History: Proceedings of the Conference in Honor
of Mario Liverani Held in Spaienza – Università di Roma, Dipartimento di
Scienze dell’Antichità, 20–21 April 2009. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns,
35–52.
Marzeah in Mesopotamia
JoAnn Scurlock
As we now know, grapes originated in the Caucasus and spread westward across
the Levant to Europe. What is less well known is that the culture of wine involving
gatherings of men engaged in drinking contests spread with the grapes, and can
be picked up in textual evidence as far away as ancient Greece.1 Unsurprisingly,
similar customs appear at Ugarit in association with the fall after-the-harvest wine
festival.2 But what about Mesopotamia? This is beer country, Germany, not
France. And yet, the answer is actually yes, there was such a custom in Mesopo-
tamia. This is where archaeological evidence comes into play. Not just the wine
jars – those could be part of a wedding, but, fortunately for us, the fall wine harvest
festival was accompanied by a very peculiar set of tapas that have been recovered
in excavation at Lagaš. And this, in turn, allows us to recount the tale of mass
male inebriation in Mesopotamia.
Lagaš might seem the last place anybody would look for wine. However, a
careful examination of the cultic calendar, which will have begun at the Sumerian
vernal equinox in Ayyaru (April/May),3 reveals that wine was actually being pro-
duced there. Ningišzida was wine’s patron saint who wept red tears when the
grapes were pressed out.4 Whenever the statue of Ningišzida went out for a tour
or he got a festival, some activity associated with viticulture was afoot.
In Du’ūzu (June/July), Ningišzida took part in the Lisi Festival during which
he received funerary offerings. This was the culmination of a two month circuit
round the walls accompanied by lamentations.5 This corresponded to the coming
out of the grapes followed by the thinning of table grapes in early Summer.6 At
grape harvest time, Ningišzida’s temple got a new coat of plaster. The month
name Mesandu-Falls-in-the-Barley (Araḫšamna = October/November)7 is a ref-
1
See Scurlock, 2013: 307–308.
2
See Scurlock, 2013.
3
See Scurlock, 2019b: 165.
4
See Wiggermann, 2000: 370.
5
See Cohen, 2015: 63.
6
See Ency.Brit., 1961 10: 641–642.
7
This is misplaced in Cohen, 2015: 56–57 as may be seen from pp. 60–61 (correcting the
beginning of the year to Ayyaru) where the month in question is replaced with the festival
366 JoAnn Scurlock
erence to the after-harvest pruning of the vines into the cover crop. Finally, In
Addaru (ŠE.KIN.KUD = February/March) there was a Festival of Ú.ŠIM of Nin-
gišzida.8 The harvest in question was of the cover crop which had been planted
round the vines to keep the weeds from stealing their moisture during the rainy
season.9
It is the grape harvest festival in which we are interested here. In Donald Han-
sen’s excavations at Tell Al-Hibba, an administrative building was discovered in
Area C.10 Apart from evidence of copper and lapis that suggested industrial activ-
ity, there was an archive to the West of the North courtyard with administrative
texts dealing with fish, reeds, wool and flour. To the east of the same courtyard,
there was evidence for the administration of grain and a large number of figurines,
furniture and miniature vessels. The areas abutting the southern courtyard were
full of plaster, jar sealings and bones. Curiously, the building seems to have had
multiple large entrances along the east side, suggesting the presence of a large
walled courtyard in that direction.
What all of this suggests is that feasting activity of some sort was orchestrated
from this building. Tables will have been set up in the neighboring courtyard to
accommodate the opened jars of wine and platters of prepared food. The remains
of the day will have then returned to the building to be ultimately disposed of in
a fosse. It is to be noted in this connection that one of the numerous jar sealings
discovered in the building shows feasting in progress.11
And what of the bones? A curious set indeed: sheep/goats, cattle, pigs, dogs,
horses and/ or onagers or wild asses, gazelles, deer, 4 types of fish, 2 ocean and 2
fresh water, spoonbill, flamingo, 2 types of ducks, gull and rail (a marsh bird) and
both fresh water and marine shells.12 What is interesting about these offerings is
that they come in pairs. You have small cattle and large cattle, omnivorous and
carnivorous scavengers, wild and tame varieties of equid, steppe dwelling and
mountain game, ocean and fresh water fish, birds with flat vs long bills, ocean and
marsh birds; some of these at least also specifically sort with seasons. Sheep lamb
in spring and summer; cattle drop their calves in winter. Gazelles are hunted in
spring; deer in fall. In view of this, it is hard not to see the seasons in the four
varieties of fish.
A very similar set of offerings, including a similarly wide variety of birds and
fish, were discovered in excavation at 1st millennium BCE Ramat Rahel in Israel.
There, analysis of the bones indicated that the sheep were actually 3–6 month old
of Dumuzi.
8
See Cohen, 2015: 67–68, 69.
9
See Ency.Brit., 1961 10: 642.
10
As reported in Webb, 2020.
11
Webb, 2020.
12
For bones at Lagash, see Mudar, 1982.
Marzeah in Mesopotamia 367
lambs, an indication that the fall was the season for this feasting activity.13 This
makes perfect sense for the Lagaš material since Tašrītu, September/October in
our calendar or grape harvest season, is referred to in ancient Mesopotamian texts
as the ZAG.MU or turn of the year,14 to which all the pairings and seasonal refer-
ences in the offerings would naturally refer.15
The Festival at Lagaš? It was a quite elaborate affair, known locally as the
Malt Eating Festival of Nanše. The administrative texts found in the building in
Tell Al-Hibbah Area C inform us that the Malt Eating Festival of Nanše did in-
deed involve deliveries of malt beer to the palace of Lugalanda. as well as offer-
ings of stone bowls, chalices and crowns to Nanše and friends.16 This would cover
the administrative building’s many workshops and the deliveries of grain presum-
ably arriving in time for the beer in question to be made.
The festival began on the 25th of Ulūlu (August/September) with a three day
pilgrimage led by governor Lugalanda’s wife with statues transported to the canal
by chariot. From that point, transport was to be by boat of which there were four,
one for (astral) Dumuzi (Lady Sprinkled with Charm), Nanše’s boat (Shining
Lady), Nindara’s boat (The Shrine of Abundance) and another Nanše boat loaded
with torches. The first day, the boats were oiled and the statues got a ritual bath.
The second day there was a visit to the other sites round Lagaš with Dumuzi’s
boat to dock at Lazawi Field and Nanše’s at the Apple Orchard. Apples were
picked in Ulūlu, the reason for the timing for this festival, which was also her
exaltation as the planet Venus.17
Nanše’s main shrine was in Nigin (Tell Zurghul), which is in the process of
being excavated by David Nadali and Andrea Polcaro. In addition to the temple
platform in Nigin (Area D), there was an administrative building (Area A) that
had facilities for making malt and housed large stacks of vessels containing resi-
due of lentils, emmer and barley.18 We may gather from these remains that the
necessarily small group of participants in this festival performed the rite of “malt
eating” that gave the festival its name.
But we are just getting started. Like most festivals of this early period, you
begin your festival at the end of one month and lap it over into the next month.
For the fall, this will have been Ulūlu into Tašrītu. In Tašrītu, when grapes were
harvested, there was the opportunity for a more general public feasting that in-
13
For references, see Scurlock, 2019a: 45, 46.
14
For Nippur, see Cohen, 2015: 58.
15
At Lagaš, the ZAG.MU is Kislīmu representing a much earlier calendar that began the
year at the then Vernal Equinox in Simānu.
16
See Cohen, 2015: 40–41.
17
See Cohen, 2015: 64–66.
18
Nadali / Polcaro, 2018: 28–30, 34; cf. Nadali / Pocaro, 2021.
368 JoAnn Scurlock
volved all those vats of “mountain” (wild, so barely fermented and still foaming)
wine19 stored in Entemena’s “Shrine in which Pots are Arranged”.20
Besides the new wine, the festival prominently featured one administrative
headache orchestrated from our Area C building. We know that the fish to be
consumed at this festival came in at the time of the AB.BA.È festival a month or
two earlier, presumably to be fattened.21 These must have been kept in ponds,
such as the one at Ramat Rahel or, closer to home, the fish pond bizarrely situated
in the top of an artificial mound two meters above the flood plain, apparently once
with an associated garden, that was discovered by Elizabeth Stone and Paul Zim-
ansky in a suburb of Ur.22 The particular festival for which these fish will have
been intended is the akītu-festival known from late 3rd millennium administrative
texts from Ur.23 We know that it was the custom to eat ocean fish at the Vernal
Equinox akītu-festival at Ur.24 This pond was presumably designed to hold both
these and ocean and river fish for the Autumnal Equinox akītu celebration.25 The
latter, as might have been guessed, echoes the Lagaš Malt-eating festival of Nanše
with its journeys by barge,26 in this case out to the akītu-house of the moon god
Nanna27 and back again in triumphal return to Ur on the third day of the festival
to determine the city’s fate.. Required as offerings, alongside the more conven-
tional sacrifices, were lambs and reed-fed pigs28 and the provision of ghee, oil,
pea flour and farina for cakes as well as dates and cheese.29 One text includes a
duck, 2 […] birds, 5 turtle-doves and two lambs and specifies that the reed-fed
pig is to be roasted.30 And yes, there was to be a banquet.31 Early 3rd millennium
texts from Ur mention figs, apples, wine/grapes and some sort of fish product.32
The beverage here was not grape wine but what is described as “black beer
poured into bowls”.33 This was not what we would call black beer, since Meso-
19
Uruinimgina 6 ii 6–7 (Frayne, 2008 [RIME 1]: 280).
20
Entemena 4 ii 1–3 (Frayne, 2008 [RIME 1]: 203); Entemena 12 ii 6–iii 1 (Frayne, 2008
[RIME 1]: 214); Entemena 16: 9–10 (Frayne, 2008 [RIME 1]: 219); Entemena 17: i 17–
19 (Frayne, 2008 [RIME 1]: 220).
21
See Cohen, 2015: 48.
22
Zimansky, 2021.
23
Zimansky, 2021: 525–526.
24
See Cohen, 2015: 74–75.
25
Cf. Scurlock, 2019a: 57.
26
See Cohen, 2015: 102, 104.
27
See Cohen, 2015: 100.
28
See Cohen, 2015: 105, 107.
29
See Cohen, 2015: 104, 105.
30
See Cohen, 2015: 105; cf. 107.
31
See Cohen, 2015: 106.
32
Steinkeller, 2002: 252.
33
See Cohen, 2015: 105.
Marzeah in Mesopotamia 369
potamian beer had floaters on top that had to be avoided by putting the beverage
into a pot and drinking from a straw. Wine, by contrast, has dregs which the
spouted pouring vessels were supposed to leave behind with the residual bit hope-
fully safely in the bottom of your drinking cup. Therefore, the “black beer” is wine
and, to judge from the color, date wine, that other alcoholic substance specifically
forbidden to Muslims.
So there must have been fish ponds or some equivalent thereof at Lagaš. As to
where, a hint is provided by the presence in badly dug early excavations at Nigin
of the complete skeleton of a shark.34 Nanše, as we know from other texts, had a
special relationship with rivers, canals and the ocean. She also was associated with
fish and various types of birds.35 It is hard not to think that the boats returned to
Lagaš from their pilgrimage to Nigin with fish and birds for the coming feast in
Nanše’s honor. Indeed, the excavators of Tell Zurghul discovered a building in
“sacred context” in Area B that was apparently used to orchestrate fishing activi-
ties, to judge from the many fishing net clay weights, river and sea shells, fish
vertebrae, and even some preserved fish skins from several different types of
fish.36
Apart from the fish, several other oddities administered or discovered in build-
ing C at Tell Al-Hibba were also needed for the festival. There was the whitewash
for a new coating for all the major temples including the nearby Ebagara of Ning-
irsu, shrines of Nanše, Dumuzi, Ningišzida, and Šulpae. In addition there was
flour for Meslamtaea.37
We can know from later manifestations of this festival that it is no accident
that reverence is being paid to Šulpae (Jupiter)38 and Meslamtaea (Mercury).
These planets were supposed to have had a simultaneous solstice point in Tašrītu
in the first year ever, meaning that the divinities who controlled them had a bat-
tle.39 The reeds that were also administered in the building in Area C were used
in many a Mesopotamian ritual to symbolically enact battles.
So much for the ritual bits. The fun was contained in all those jars of the local
wine. These will have been opened in the building in Area C where the jar sealings
were discovered.40 The food was presumably also prepared there. Out it went to
the tables and the leftovers, being sacred, came back and got dumped temporarily,
eventually to be cleaned out into a proper fosse. Last but by no means least, the
building in Area C also contained figurines and miniature vessels and furniture
34
Nadali / Polcaro, 2021.
35
Heimpel, 1998: 152–154.
36
Nadali / Polcaro, 2018: 36–38; cf. http://www.tellsurghul.org/Area_B.html consulted
May 21.
37
See Cohen, 2015: 66–66.
38
See Delnero, 2012: 285–286.
39
For details, see Scurlock, 2019a: 60–65; cf. Scurlock, 2019b.
40
Webb, 2020.
370 JoAnn Scurlock
that we may imagine as for sale by the sanctuary.41 For what purpose? To note
that many similar figurines turn up in actual graves. In combination with the min-
iature tables and vessels, this might have actually gotten you that feasting afterlife
that was the privilege of the rich and famous.
So far, we have uncovered archaeological and textual evidence for mass drink-
ing accompanied by some seasonally themed tapas. We are missing the actual
word marzeah and some indication that the Georgian custom of deliberate inebri-
ation travelled across from the Caucasus along with the grapes and the cups in
which to drink, in short whether there was a culture of wine drinking that travelled
with the wine.
For this, we need to turn to 2nd millennium Ugarit and 1st millennium Greece
and Palmyra. From Ugarit and Palmyra we have the word itself, which refers, as
the Ugaritic evidence makes clear, to sort of clubs of young men who were in-
volved in the accumulation of the prodigious amounts of wine required.42 In view
of this fact, we may dispense with the folk etymologies proposed for the Palmy-
rene material and understand that this is mar zeah, “son(s) of the zeah-offering.”
From Palmyra, we learn that the wine of these offerings was consumed at four
different occasions during the year and, from the Ugaritic fall marzeah and the
Athenian Anthesterion, that getting blind drunk was an actual feature of the in-
volved festivals.43
The prominent marzeah at Ugarit was our fall festival. And this reveals an-
other feature of the season, which was a deciding of destinies and an opportunity
to extend one’s life.44 This is particularly evident in the every-eighth-year cele-
bration of the Fall festival which winds the after-harvest pruning of the vines and
symbolic defeat of death that this represents into a request for seven more years
of life.45 This more than suggests that the zeah-offering was intended to be propi-
tiatory if not expiatory. And this brings us to 2nd Millenium Mari and its pudû-
offerings. These were, as has been argued on philological grounds, intended to be
expiatory.46
An examination of the Mari material, as I have argued in my contribution to
the What Difference Does Time Make volume, reveals that the local calendar, and
indeed all the Amorite calendars, began in Šabāṭu (January/February).47 Armed
with this knowledge, it is apparent that these offerings appear four times a year,
specifically at the change of seasons, so Addaru and Nisannu for Spring,48 Du’ūzu
41
Webb, 2020.
42
For details, see Scurlock, 2013: 285–287.
43
For details, see Scurlock, 2013: 297, 301, 306–308.
44
See Scurlock, 2019a: 47–48, 66.
45
For details, see Scurlock, 2012.
46
Jacquet, 2010: 59.
47
See Scurlock, 2019a: 52, 68–70.
48
Jacquet, 2010: 58 [FM 11:21:12–14] dated 1 Mari 2 (Addaru) 10 jars of wine for a
Marzeah in Mesopotamia 371
for Summer,49 Tašrītu and Araḫšamna for Fall50 and Kislīmu and Ṭebētu for Win-
ter.51 The most prominent of these were the offerings of Addaru, also prominent
at Palmyra, and, sure enough, there were sons of the pudû-offerings at Mari,
whose main job it was to accumulate the vast quantities of wine to be consumed
at these festivals.52 And it was no ordinary wine. Believe it or not, they mixed it,
and not just with water; to be more precise, the king was presented with jars of
red wine, jars of honey and jars of aromatic oils that were to be mixed to his
taste.53
We can be absolutely sure of this since Eric Cline discovered in his 2nd mil-
lennium site of Tel Kabri what was apparently a manufacturing center for pre-
cisely this type of wine. You had your choice of pre-mixed or separately to be
mixed yourself. The analysis of residues in the numerous wine jars revealed the
recipe for the royal wine which must, according to the analyst have tasted some-
thing like retsina mixed with cough syrup. It contained, in addition to the red wine,
honey, storax resin, terebinth resin, cedar oil, Cyperus, juniper, and possibly mint,
myrtle or cinnamon. It was suggested that the intent was not merely to preserve
the beverage but to produce phychotrophic effects.54 If so, the object of the exer-
cise will have been to produce the requisite state of blind drunkenness with mini-
mal amounts of this expensive and barely alcoholic wine. We know from first
millennium BCE evidence that the phychotrophic properties of certain plant ad-
ditives to drink was fully appreciated.55
The Fall festival at Mari, as may be reconstructed from texts and cylinder seals,
was imagined as a renewal of kingship in which there was a sacred marriage be-
tween the king and the goddess Ištar celebrated by a meal prominently involving
fish, immediately after which the goddess was allowed to go off to other divine
partners, creating an indirect relationship between the king and the great gods of
the imperial pantheon.56 Later iterations of this festival which survived in Assyria
and Babylonia without the wine reveal another benefit. Consummation of the re-
lationship with Ištar by sleeping with one’s wife was sure to produce that all im-
portant son and heir.57
That was the droopy part for those other than the Mariot king and queen; the
fun was the drinking and the tapas. As we know, again from the texts, tables were
set up in the countryside and liberal amounts of royal wine were dispensed. This
was accompanied, in addition to liberal quantities of meat, with large quantities
of birds and fish as, for example, in a distribution that mentions 102 of three types
of birds and 516 of three types of fish.58
And it was not only at Mari that such festivals were held in the Old Babylonian
period. Frantic letters from frazzled administrators moan and groan about the dif-
ficulties of rounding up 600 garlic cloves, 600 onions, 300 fresh water fish
(šarbūṭ) and 300 turtledoves (TU.GUR4) of the 2 shekel size for the pudû-offer-
ings of the yearly brazier festival of Marduk at Sippar.59 This particular festival
was probably timed to coincide with the planet Jupiter’s exaltation in Ṭebētu (De-
cember/January). Note in this connection that although birds and fish feature,
there is only one kind of each. Also of interest from the Sippar material was the
fact that private persons also organized pudû-offerings in connection with these
festivals,60 providing a means of survival of such customs in periods of political
decline and eclipse such as the one that occurred at the end of the 2nd millennium.
So far, we have located a series of season-themed calendric festivals that in-
volved the consumption of large amounts of wine as an important component. In
addition, we have located a distinctive set of foods that were consumed as accom-
paniments to the drink. Indeed, so frequently do these birds and fishes occur with
these drink fests, that we begin to suspect that whenever these rather unusual
foods appear, mass drinking cannot be far behind.
55
Scurlock / Andersen, 2005: 361.
56
For details, see Scurlock, 2019a: 48–50, 53, 56–57, 58–60.
57
See Scurlock, 2019a: 65–66; cf. 55–56, 57.
58
ARM XXI 92 (Scurlock, 2019a: 74).
59
AbB 7 159.
60
AbB 1 108. For more details, see Scurlock, 2019a: 51 with nn. 63–64.
Marzeah in Mesopotamia 373
Evidence for the public celebrations of mass inebriation in the first millennium
appears, as already mentioned, in the excavations at Ramat Rahel, where it ap-
pears as a reintroduction/revival under kings Hezekiah or Manasseh.61 The inspi-
ration was Assyrian for the droopy yet all important kingship part62 but the season,
and the fact that Judah was a wine producing region, allowed for reconnection
with the publicly celebrated marzeah as well. In addition to the very unusual set
of consumed offerings, that included both ocean and river fish,63 the site produced
hundreds of sherds of broken wine jars marked lmlk.64 We may imagine tables set
up outside the restricted confines of the garden palace where celebrants were free
to help themselves to, dare we suggest it, royal wine?
And there is more. On the eastern side of Mesopotamia at Kuh-i-Farah in the
Elamite highlands we have 1st millennium depictions of a Fall festival that in-
volved, to judge from the rock carvings that represent it, not only the playing of
harps and the consumption of wine stored in rows of jars65 but also sacrifices that
explicitly reference the turn of the year from its beginning in the Spring (repre-
sented by a Zebu) to its midpoint (represented by wild sheep).66
The administrative texts from Persepolis that concern this festival, locally
known as the lan festival, reveal that, as might have been expected, the requisites
for the 8th month celebration which gave that month its name, lankelli, required
assembly throughout the year.67 As for what is to be distributed, the texts mention
wine supplied by the king, sheep and goats and grain products but also figs and
dates (harvested in Spring and Fall).68 Texts also mention wine storehouses and
paradise gardens in connection with it.69 Based on Akkadian equivalents, the word
lan means essentially “precious metals”70 hinting that the presentation or dispen-
sation of gold and silver items was a distinguishing characteristic of this festival.
Meanwhile at Ramat Rahel, the Judean palace had been replaced by a Persian
satrap’s residence that continued the tradition of banquets buried under the floor
61
See Scurlock, 2019a: 46.
62
For details, see Scurlock, 2019a: 46, 47–53.
63
See Scurlock, 2019a: 57.
64
These have been studied in a number of articles as, for example, Lipshitz / Vanderhooft
2020.
65
See the illustrations in Álvarez-Mon, 2019: plates 28, 37.
66
See the illustrations in Álvarez-Mon, 2019: plates 53–54. This represents what would
appear to be a three year bash with one zebû and six sheep per year.
67
All this is very confusing if you have no idea what you are looking at, which is unfortu-
nately the case with Shahrokh Razmjou. The information provided is, however still useful.
For the 8th month, see Razmjou, 2004: 103. For the numerous records from various months,
see Razmjou, 2004: 105.
68
Razmjou, 2004: 105–106.
69
Razmjou, 2004: 109.
70
Razmjou, 2004: 103.
374 JoAnn Scurlock
of an enclosed garden.
The garden in question was a Paradise garden as marked by the presence of a
pool and botanical evidence of what was planted there, namely plants representing
the four quarters of the earth: olives and Lebanon cedar from the west, birch from
the north, grapes, myrtle, poplar, willow, fig, and Persian walnut from the center
and south, and lemons from the east. The animal remains in the sacrificial pits
were equally varied, representing the cultivated land (pigs and dogs), the desert
(camel), the steppe (gazelle) and the mountains (ibex).71
The bones found at Persian Period Ramat Rahel connect directly with those of
Enrico Foietta’s Hatra Building A, a house with three courtyards belonging to the
attendant of the temple of Ša’iru.72 Much of the building was dedicated to food
production (storage jars, grinding stones, multiple hearths and tons of ash). There
were facilities for dutch-oven style cooking, and an installation possibly for grind-
ing very large amounts of grain. There was also a shrine with an altar and two
fancy rooms, S15 and S19 where they found lots of glass sherds, presumably for
the appreciation of the color of the wine being imbibed. Decorations including
hunting scenes and the gazelle and deer horns that we have come to recognize as
indicative of the turn of the year. The faunal remains? Arranged in pairs, there
were sheep and cattle, goats (omnivorous) and camels (vegetarian), gazelles and
deer; equids (unspecified but probably horses and wild asses), wild boar and do-
mesticated pigs, dogs and wolves, (wild birds) and hens, mustelids (ominverous
mammals like beavers and weasels) and hares (vegetarians).
More possible evidence for our Fall festival was provided by Roberta Mene-
gazzi and Carlo Lippolis.73 This is in the form of the terracotta miniatures that
were found in Parthian Seleucia on the Tigris. Those in secure context were dis-
covered in a small temple attached to the W wall of the theatre, a structure asso-
ciated with Dionysus, the Greek god of wine, or in domestic or funerary context.
There were mould-made and crudely finished tiny (15cm) grapes and pome-
granates painted red plus bunches of dates.; there were miniature baskets filled
with grapes and cakes. There were also plates with cakes on them and moulds for
actual cakes that look like those found in 2nd millennium Mesopotamia in whose
texts are mentioned date and pomegranate cakes. Other plates have grapes, figs,
dates, cucumbers(gourds) and cakes, and one has a lone fish.
Of particular interest are miniature tables with breads and fruit that have direct
parallels from 2nd millennium Susa. One Susa example has 2 fish, 2 birds, a lamb
and five breads with a rosette in the middle of the table; another has 2 fish and 5
breads and yet another has just a plate with cakes.
71
For details, see Scurlock, 2019a: 44–45.
72
Foietta, 2021.
73
Menegazzi / Lippolis, 2021.
Marzeah in Mesopotamia 375
Last but by no means least, in the 1st millennium CE, we have the Sassanian
Fall festival of Mihragan. Like its distant ancestor, this was explicitly a ritual re-
newal of kingship lubricated by very generous quantities of royal wine (khusra-
wānī).74 It was also a time for the giving of the “Gifts of Mihragan”, items of gold
and silver but also weapons, (silk) clothing, spices, even poems, all of which were
met with an appropriate counter-gifts.75 Recorded from Central Asia are fantastic
works of art: two pavilions, or possibly fortress models, made of gold and silver
not to mention silk brocade and a gold ball.76 These are, alas, long gone. Surviving
however, are the less elaborate, but also very beautiful, Sassanian plates and ewers
that, I would argue, were used as dishes for the feast and then given to take away
as counter-gifts for the more valuable offerings. For this festival, these would
specifically be the plates adorned with the king as Bahram hunting wild sheep or
stags and the ewers with Mithra dominating a wild sheep.77
And the tapas? There were the niblies in themes of seven to mark the original
seventh month of the festival: seven flat moon cakes made from seven different
grains enlivened with white sugar, Indian walnuts, and dates soaked in cows’
milk. Branches of olive, quince and pomegranate also make an appearance.78 To
judge from the administrative seals of the mogh charged with assembling the nec-
essary food stuffs, besides more substantive meat dishes, a large variety of birds
and fish were on offer.79
We have come very far from our original 3rd millennium festival to this point.
Or have we? The Gutians ruled a good bit of the Mesopotamian flood plain for
the better part of a century with a capital at Adab strategically located in the border
zone between the Northern and Southern halves of the alluvium.80 They have long
been a cipher. That is, until now. Juris Zarins argues that Gutians may be recog-
nized in archaeological context by the grey flint bifacial willow projectile points
that have been discovered at Ur and Lagash along with Ešnunna, Uruk, Kiš and
Adab as well as Susa.81
To judge from their graves of which more or less intact examples were discov-
ered in the cemetery at Ur, these Gutians, who were buried en famille in shaft
graves that included as many as 70 persons of all ages and social groups,82 had
74
Haug, 2019: 39–40.
75
See Haug, 2019: 33, 38, 42.
76
See Haug, 2019: 40 with n. 51. In favor of the fortresses are the images of Median
tributaries bearing little fortresses in their hands, essentially the ancient equivalent of keys
to the city.
77
Scurlock, 2021.
78
See Haug, 2019: 33.
79
Scurlock, 2021.
80
See Frayne, 2008 (RIME 1): 12.
81
See Zarins, 2020: 11, 25–32, 36.
82
See Zarins. 2020: 11–12.
376 JoAnn Scurlock
literally gold to bury. There were gold fillets/ diadems some with dot-repoussé,
gold hair ribbons, gold hair-locks, gold earrings, gold finger rings and gold brace-
lets.83 There were also multi-stranded necklaces heavy with imported carnelian
and lapis beads mixed with shell and delicately formed gold ones.84 These people
loved to drink, and the spouted vessel wine sets revealed which beverage they
preferred.85 Similar, less well preserved, communal graves with similar gold jew-
elry, imported stone beads and wine sets have been discovered in Kiš, Adab, Nip-
pur and Assur with similar fillets from as far away as Gonur Tepe in Turkmeni-
stan.86
And where did all this gold come from? Chemical analysis of the Akkadian
gold objects from the Ur Cemetery indicates a possible origin in Takab in Iran or
Samti in Afghanistan.87 This gold, apparently already alloyed, will have travelled
to Mesopotamia along the trade routes that linked Iran across Mesopotamia and
Syria to Greece in one direction and to Central Asia and the Indus Valley on the
other.
So, did the Gutians import gold into Mesopotamia this themselves? Appar-
ently not.88 They were warriors, not merchants, and the city of Lagaš in particular
was an old hand at managing trade networks. Sensibly, they let Gudea, who seems
to have been their tributary,89 orchestrate the long-distance trade of which he
boasts so loudly,90 and to help himself to some of the human booty acquired on
joint campaigns.91 Obviously, tribute was expected to be paid annually, or else.
According to currently unpublished Lagash II administrative texts to which
Zarins was given access, Lagash was graced by periodic visits of Gudea’s over-
lords, plausibly Gutian kings and queens desirous of collecting said tribute.92 Du-
tiful Gudea presented them with large numbers of gold and silver objects along
with bows in colorful leather cases.93 There was also feasting with a menu of the
usual oxen, goats and sheep but also seven different types of fish along with ghee,
honey, dates, cheese, apples, grapes, mu-tum fruit and figs.94
83
See Zarins, 2020: 12.
84
See Zarins, 2020: 12.
85
See Zarins, 2020: 13.
86
See Zarins, 2020: 11, 13–14.
87
See Jansen et al., 2021: 288.
88
See Zarins, 2020: 19–20.
89
See Zarins, 2020: 13, 19. Pace Zarins, 2000: 32–35 Gudea was never a Gutian king
himself. These gentlemen wore braids fastened with the numerous hair locks found in their
graves; Gudea was rather alternatively tonsured.
90
See Steinkeller, 2013: 301–302; cf. Zarins, 2020: 36.
91
For the campaigns and the prisoners, see Steinkeller, 2013: 298–299.
92
See Zarins, 2020: 19–20.
93
See Zarins, 2020: 19.
94
See Zarins, 2020: 20.
Marzeah in Mesopotamia 377
What is more, the Sargonic seals from the Ur Cemetary graves (and from other
sites known to have Gutian presence including Lagaš and Ešnunna) are strikingly
different from their Early Dynastic counterparts. Both show banquet scenes, but
the ubiquitous Germanic beer has been replaced by French wine. Last, but by no
means least, these seals are replete with scenes clearly marked as Fall by the pres-
ence of ploughs and even scenes of ploughing. These show feasting with wine
supplied from potstands and large vats and food on the hoof (sheep and goats)
plus little flat cakes sitting on a table.95
From this evidence, I think we can recognize that we are looking at yet another
iteration of what began as a celebration of Nanše at Lagash in the Early Dynastic
period and found final form in Iran and Turkmenistan as the Sassanian festival of
Mihragan. If so, we may imagine that the Gutian king supplied the wine and re-
ceived in return the gold and silver “Gifts of Mihragan”, bringing us round full
circle to where we began.
In summary, yes, there was wine culture in beer-soaked Mesopotamia. Not
only that, but we have uncovered a Fall festival with distinctive features that cel-
ebrated wine but also honored the change of seasons with exotic foods, and that
persisted for millennia in one iteration or another. In view of the antiquity of the
custom (dating back to the 3rd millennium), it seems appropriate to link it with
that vast trade network that connected Mesopotamia to Greece in the West and
India in the East and to add finding a good excuse for getting drunk to the many
ideas that flowed back and forth across the region.
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Marzeah in Mesopotamia 379
Zozan Tarhan
This paper presents the feasts which were provided by the Neo-Assyrian king.
The secular and cultic characters are discussed in the course of the study. Written
and iconographic sources are examined and analysed. Regarding the written ones
the research uses the following types of sources: royal inscriptions, explaining
different occurrences of feasts; correspondence between the king and his officials,
concerning the supplying and distribution of the necessary products; ritual and
cultic texts, presenting the preparation of the environment for both occasions, and
the ritual performance itself. The iconographic group comprises the scenes com-
ing especially from the palace and residential reliefs, as well as cylinder seals.
Both feasts and occasions in which they were provided are distinguished. The
reasons for organizing a secular or a cultic commensality are marked. The political
benefits behind them are taken into consideration. An explanation is given as to
why and how the king actively conducted some steps in the performance. Some
new considerations and conclusions based on the research are made in the text.
foreign lands, or another achievement.1 But one must be aware that cultic feasts
were also expected to happen after military or other achievements. There are sev-
eral passages conveying all the types of such occurrences attested in the Assyrian
royal inscriptions, which are presented in Table 1.
Table 1: Feasts and similar events attested in the Neo-Assyrian royal inscriptions.
1
Additionally about that see Ermidoro, 2015: 90–91; Villard, 2013: 219–224.
2
http://oracc.museum.upenn.edu/rinap/rinap5/pager (January 23rd 2023).
From Intention to Accomplishment 383
Already aforementioned, cultic feasts are also expected to happen after some mil-
itary success. In regard to this aspect one should admit that sometimes it is chal-
lenging to define whether the feast is organized in a cultic or in a strictly secular
way. To illustrate what I mean, I will give separate examples. After successful
military interventions, one often reads that the Assyrian rulers took away their
enemies’ (palace) property, or phrases such as: “I regarded his palace(s) like
mine.”3 Ashurnasirpal II did not make an exception. Moreover, concerning his
conquest of the city Aribua achieved in the land Patinu over the local ruler
Lubarna he even announced: “I staged a banquet in his palace.”4 In this case the
king did not implicate the personality of Aššur or anybody else of the great gods
and stemming from this point one can define the event as a secular one.
The other instances, that involve the great gods in the context of feasts as a
result of military acquisitions, come from the royal inscriptions of Shalmaneser
III. The first example is related to the king’s achievements in Babylonia and
sounds like this: “... he established protection and freedom under the great gods
at a banquet.”5 The next passage is referred to Shalmaneser’s conquest of the city
Til-Abni: “I washed the weapon of Aššur therein, I made sacrifices to my gods,
(and) put on a joyful banquet.”6 Even though the passages do not concern some
cultic event they disclose that the achievements were devoted to the great gods.
The Assyrian kings were under their protection and respectively Shalmaneser
(also his predecessors and heirs) owed the victory to the gods. Moreover, conquest
policy of the Assyrian rulers was conceived, or rather presented, as a commitment
made by the great gods. This is how those military campaigns that the kings
claimed to have been conducted by the command (ina qibīt dPN and ina siqir/ina
siqri dPN)7 or with the support (ina tukulti dPN)8 of the great gods can be consid-
ered. In other words, Assyrian kings did not miss the opportunity to involve the
great gods as a justification for their conquest goals.9 One of the most suitable
3
For example, RIMA 2, A.0.99.2: 47.
4
RIMA 2, A.0.101.1: 82.
5
RIMA 3, A.0.102.5: vi 4; RIMA 3, A.0.102.14: 70–71. The used term for a banquet here
is qerītu/qerētu.
6
RIMA 3, A.0.102.14: 70–71; RIMA 3, A.0.102.16: 40–42. The used Akkadian words for
“a joyful banquet” are naptan hudûtu.
7
More observation and concrete examples see Tarhan, 2022: 244 –246, 248.
8
More about that and the concrete examples see Tarhan, 2022: 247–248.
9
Additionally see Oded, 1992: 15–18.
384 Zozan Tarhan
ways to commemorate the success and to give the gods what they deserve is to
celebrate together by means of commensality. There are a couple of sources men-
tioning the same development – weapons being washed in a large body of water
around the conquered lands, sacrifices being made to the great gods, but without
completing the sentence with a banquet. This ritualization of the conquests is ev-
ident from the time of the Old Akkadian king Sargon I (RIME 2, E2.1.1.1: 50–52
(Sum), 56–58 (Akk); RIME 2, E2.1.1.2: 59–61) and it is practiced also by Ashur-
nasirpal II (RIMA 2, A.0.101.1: iii 84–85). Even Shalmaneser III reported that
after defeating the Urarṭian king Aramu in the city of Sugunia he washed his
weapons in Tâmtu Na’iri (modern Lake Van) and made sacrifices (RIMA 3,
A.0.102.1: 33–35). The moment is also registered on the upper scene of a bronze
band BM 124662 from the gates of Shalmaneser’s residence in Imgur-Ellil (mod-
ern Balawat).10 The sacrificial oxen and rams are depicted and the king is repre-
sented during the ritual performance, whose role here is not only that of a ruler
and conqueror but also of a priest. More about Assyrian kings’ priestly role will
be noted in the section called Preparation and Performance.
Passages from the Assyrian royal inscriptions notify feasts and similar that
arise as a result of completion а specific royal palace in the relevant (new) capital
city. Examples of the inscriptions of Ashurnasirpal II, Esarhaddon and Sargon II
are shown in Table 1. The most significant case among them is for sure the cele-
bration after the final steps of the accomplishment of the Northwest palace in the
new capital city of Kalḫu. Ashurnasirpal II narrated his decision to move the cap-
ital in Kalḫu, which is connected to an active building process within the citadel
(RIMA 2, A.0.101.30: 53; Frahm, 2017: 169; Grayson, 1982: 258). There are a
couple of sources but the most detailed are the so-called Annals of Ashurnasirpal
(RIMA 2, A.0.101.1) and The Banquet Stela (RIMA 2, A.0.101.30) as the latter
conveys an narration about the 10-days banquet in the city (RIMA 2, A.0.101.1:
ii 131–135; RIMA 2, A.0.101.30: 20–33, 151).11 According to A.0.101.30 the
king’s officials, vassal rulers, representatives and other guests were invited to the
celebration, a total of 69 574 people (RIMA 2, A.0.101.30: 149–151). Aside from
the “the earthly guests” the king invited the great gods, and so the “earthly” and
the “heavenly” were bound through the festival and commensality. The same
manner is attested in the inscriptions of the other Neo-Assyrian kings in the con-
text of those occasions.
An example of a secular feast, which is related to a visit, comes from Ashur-
banipal’s inscription. Revealing the intentions of the Babylonian ruler Šamaš-
10
https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/W_Rm-1042 (May 21st 2021).
11
For more about the planning and architecture see Kertai, 2015: 18–54; Oates / Oates,
2001: 26–70; Russell, 1999: 9–30; Tarhan, 2022: 112–115, 263–267. Additionally on
Ashurnasirpal II’s Banquet Stela and the relevant banquet see Marti, 2011: 505–520;
Winter, 2013: 292–294.
From Intention to Accomplishment 385
šuma-ukīn, his “unfaithful brother” who “sought out evil (deeds)” the Assyrian
king also reported that he had received a visit by Babylonian citizens and con-
vened them at paššūr taknê – a carefully prepared table (RINAP 5/1 no. 11: iii
70–91).12 The next passages disclose that while these Babylonians awaited Ash-
urbanipal’s decisions, Šamaš-šuma-ukīn broke off the treaty with Assyria and set
in motion his rebellious plan (RINAP 5/1 no. 11: iii 93–100). Even though the
Assyrian ruler had been advised about the potential conspiracy he treated the Bab-
ylonian representatives in a propitious way, setting them at a dining table and
probably trying to turn the development of the events in his favour.13 This case
indicates that feasts are proper practice in the Neo-Assyrian policy not only during
celebrations but also during visits and even negotiations.
Some appropriate examples for cultic feasts that are part of a certain cultic
event shown in Table 1, are those delivered by Sennacherib’s and Esarhaddon’s
inscriptions concerning the akītu-festival.14 The last three examples, which are
referred to smaller cultic events in their performance and exuberance, inform us
about three individual occurrences where Sîn-šarra-iškun prepares and places
meals before different goddesses.15 The latter instances sound much more like
regular divine offerings but they are suitable patterns to illustrate the apprehension
that the Assyrian king stays behind the preparation and provision of some meals.
12
In RINAP 5/1 paššūr taknê is translated like “a sumptuous banqet”, but I would rather
prefer to translate it “a carefully prepared table”. For paššūru see CAD P, p. 259, paššūru;
for taknû see CAD T, p. 84 a, taknû.
13
More about that development and the fall of the Neo-Assyrian Empire in Frahm, 2017:
189–193; Oates, 1991: 166–180.
14
On the New Year’s festival and akītu in Assyria see Ambos, 2013: 129–130.
15
More about the Assyrian royal custom of preparing meals for the gods specifically in
the age of Sargonids see Gaspa, 2012a: 34.
16
More about that in Ermidoro, 2015: 68–69.
17
Such an example is the interpretation of the astrological report in SAA 8 325: 4 – r. 3.
18
RINAP 2, no. 43: 39–43. Another document part of the reign of Sargon II concerning in
386 Zozan Tarhan
“In order to provide the wide land of Assyria with fully sufficient nourish-
ment, with well-being, (and) with tillenû befitting a king, (through) making
their canals flow with water, (and) to save humanity from famine (and)
want, so that the destitute will not collapse at the bringing in of the grape
(harvest), that there will be no interruption in what is desired by the sick,
that oil – the pride of mankind that makes (tired) muscles relax – does not
become expensive in my land, and that sesame might be purchased on the
market as (cheaply as) barley, in order to provide lavish meal(s) fit for the
table of god and king, to … the land, (and) to make the fields around it
reach (their) full value, day and night I planned to build this city.”
The passages of an inscription of Aššur-etel-ilāni provide a piece of information
in a similar course:19
“For future days he cleaned this entire wall (in order to make its water as
pure) as (that of) the Tigris and <Euphrates> Rivers, and he established its
water for the meals of the great gods. That water should be brought every
day in good time for (their) meals.”
As it is clear from the cited sources, such extensive planted areas needed serious
care, workers and draught animals. Both the workers, even if they were deportees,
and the animals required other cares and rations of food.20 Except for the farming
work itself, sometimes the fields caused additional care – for example, due to a
poor crop the field had to be purified by an exorcist (āšipu).21 Considering all of
that and adding all the regular and potential events with sumptuous meals, the
Assyrian rulers did not rely only on cultivating plants, growing animals (and
trade), but they found another way of distributing products – through fixed trib-
utes and booties. After conquering new lands they often notified that they reaped
the harvest of the conquered land, as Adad-nērārī II did: “I entered the city Iaridu.
I reaped the harvest of his land. I regarded the city Saraku as mine (and) heaped
up the barley and straw therein.”22 Or, as Ashurnasirpal II mentioned he stored
the grain: “I reaped the harvest of their land (and) stored the barley and straw in
the city Tušha.”23 Of course, not all of it was allocated for feasts, but for sure it
particular providing offerings for Aššur is a renewed land grant of Adad-nērārī III – SAA
12 019.
19
RINAP 5/2, no. 4: 4–5.
20
The correspondence between the kings and their magnates casts light on the topic re-
garding the arrival, wellness and/or nourishment of deportees and pack animals – SAA 1
219.
21
SAA 10 069.
22
RIMA 2, A.0.99.2: 43–44.
23
RIMA 2, A.0.101.1: ii 117–118.
From Intention to Accomplishment 387
would have come into use, as Esarhaddon pointed out:24 “… sixty thousand fat-
tened choice oxen (destined for) [his] lord[ly] banquets, [...] countless [...], sheep
with tails of oxen …”
Thanks to the four canals of supplying the necessary products (agriculture and
livestock breeding; trade; tributes; plunder) the Neo-Assyrian kings could provide
splendid secular and cultic feasts. The administrative records of food offerings
further affirm this opinion,25 the consignments as well.26 Thanks to the various
kinds of sources it is even possible to distinguish the staff that took care of food
supply and management.27 Iconographic and written sources related to the accom-
plishment of the feasts partly cover the topic of getting the drinks and foodstuffs,
but they are more appreciable in the topic of the preparation and performance of
the ceremonial events.
24
RINAP 4, no. 1019: r. 32–33.
25
Examples of that are SAA 7 161; SAA 7 162; SAA 7 192.
26
For instance, SAA 7 166; SAA 7 167.
27
For additional information see Groß, 2015: 23–37.
28
On the organization and protocol in banquets and similar events see Villard, 2013: 225–
229.
29
Ermidoro, 2015: 161–162.
388 Zozan Tarhan
fact which is evident from other sources, the text of K 8669 itself does not com-
prise data that we could relate to a religious event.30
Regarding cultic feasts provided by the Neo-Assyrian king I must say that the
topic is closely connected to his priestly role. In Assyria the king is a high priest,
which is evident from various sources. The royal inscriptions especially preserve
different narratives which attest the king’s function as a priest – the establishment
of his priesthood (šangûtu), the gods who love his priesthood and the king holding
different priestly titles.31 As a priest, the Neo-Assyrian king conducted many
cultic performances, part of which were to make a sacrifice to the gods and
provide them and all participants with a meal.32 This side of king’s role was al-
ready discussed in regard to the sacrifices after military acquisitions, which were
attested in the written sources and on the bronze band from Imgur-Ellil. Moreover,
the king revealed his role as a priest in regular cultic events such as tākultu for
example.33 The following excerpt of a cultic text regarding rituals in the Equ
House also visualizes it very clear:34
“The k[in]g appears. He goes and loads the brazier, returns and provides
hot cooked meal. He comes back and increases the heat of the brazier. He
swings the pur[ifi]cation device, performs libations on the brazier, and sac-
rifices two bulls. From one of them, they push its heart back inside it for
the soup, [fr]om the other he provides cooked meat. [The ki]ng put[s on]
the jewellery in the side room, bur[ns] female kids, leaves […] aside,
throws balussu. He finishes his [liba]tions …”
Aside from the written sources, palace reliefs and cylinder seals preserved some
scenes of secular banquets. The most famous among them is undoubtedly the ban-
quet scene of Ashurbanipal.35 There are another type of scenes which attained
popularity from the time of Ashurnasirpal II on – such as that on the stone slab
from the Northwest palace in Kalḫu (Fig. 1)36 or that of a cylinder seal MS 0776
(Fig. 2).37
30
For further discussion see Gaspa, 2012b: 205.
31
More about that – Karlsson, 2016: 92–103; Pongratz-Leisten, 2015: 202–205; Tarhan,
2022: 228–240, 341–342, Table 1.
32
More about the connection between the Assyrian king’s priesthood and his duty to pro-
vide the great gods with meals see Gaspa, 2012a: 25.
33
More about tākultu see Frankena, 1954; Pongratz-Leisten, 2015: 392–407. Additionally
on the role of the king as a provider of meals for the gods in other cultic events see Gaspa,
2012a: 8, 12.
34
SAA 20 16: r. iv 2–10.
35
https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/W_1856-0909-53 (May 25th 2021).
36
https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/W_1850-1228-9 (May 25th 2021).
37
https://www.themorgan.org/seals-and-tablets/84398 (May 26th 2021).
From Intention to Accomplishment 389
In both scenes the king lightly extends his right hand while holding a bowl in
it.38 Sometimes this representation of the king is confused with he is making liba-
tions. Since the ruler is depicted sitting on a chair and not staying, be it above
sacrificial animals, staying around an altar, or not, I would reject the idea of liba-
tions. I would rather suggest that the king proposes a toast. The context of this act
is uncertain. However, in the scene of the stone slab there are shown officials and
winged deities or genii which obviously are taking part in the purification ritual
and giving blessings.39 On the scene of the cylinder seal there are depicted also
divine symbols. Because of that I would assume that both scenes does not repre-
38
Additionally on the motif of the king holding a bowl and another opinión about the
context of consumption of wine see Gaspa, 2012a: 239–240.
39
Arguments defending the statement that officials holding such objects and having this
type of representation (like both persons before and behind the king) conducted purifica-
tion rituals and gave blessings see Tarhan, 2022: 235–237.
390 Zozan Tarhan
sent truly a secular feast, but they represent either a cultic event, or a feast or an
event which was planned for secular aims but have involved the divine personal-
ities.
4. Concluding remarks
Written and iconographic sources comprise various kinds of feasts being part of
secular celebrations and cultic events. Aside from the fixed or regular celebra-
tions, occasions for organizing feasts, were political and military achievements in
the foreign lands, as well as building activities. Feasts were also proper practice
in the Neo-Assyrian policy not only during celebrations but also during visits by
political leaders or representatives and even negotiations. Thereby, the act of
feasting or banqueting was a way of creating social communication and express-
ing power. In this course of thought, the secular and cultic feast could be consid-
ered working in favour of the Neo-Assyrian royal ideology and propaganda.
Specifically concerning the feasts prepared for official visits aiming at negoti-
ations or similar I would define them as secular. Stemming from situations as the
described one during Ashurbanipal’s reign, the king should express his acts of
kindness, honour his visitors, invite them at a carefully prepared table and find a
solution for the forthcoming problems and troubles. In such particularly cases the
gods were not mentioned to be invited at the table. This actually make sense, be-
cause the king was not supposed to reveal his role of a worshipper, priest or the
earthly king chosen by the great gods; he was expected to present himself as an
attentive host and act as a king who is not only concerned about the balance and
prosperity of the Empire, but also worried about his people.
During events regarding cultic festivals, celebration of political and military
success, or accomplishment of building programs the king could express his rela-
tions of power, both earthly and heavenly, and present the various roles he pos-
sessed. The Assyrian kings used a skillful move to build a close connection be-
tween the otherwise incompatible in human experience earthly/secular/palace and
heavenly/religious/temple (Tarhan, 2022: 220, 335–336). The desire to unite them
under one authority is also evident from Assyrian king’s investiture by the great
gods and especially Aššur, as well as from the communication of the ruler with
the gods, and particularly much through his priestly role. Celebrating his political
acquisitions and conquests the king emerged not only as a political actor, con-
queror and warrior, but he also exposed all those persuasions of the royal ideol-
ogy. Due to the persuasion that the conquest policy was directed by the command
or with the support of the great gods the apprehension that Assyrian kings owed
their military achievements to the gods’ will was also evident. One of the most
suitable ways to commemorate the success and to give the gods what they deserve
was to celebrate together at a joyful banquet. On account of that, the earthly feasts
turned into cultic activities. Performing rituals, such as making purifications, sac-
rifices and providing gods and all participants with meals during cultic events the
From Intention to Accomplishment 391
king revealed to the public his priestly role and the connection with the gods what
he was supposed to have.
Abbreviations
CAD Gelb et al., 1956–2010.
RIMA 2 Grayson, 1991.
RIMA 3 Grayson, 1996.
RIME 2 Frayne, 1993.
RINAP 2 Frame, 2021.
RINAP 3/2 Grayson / Novotny, 2014.
RINAP 4 Leichty, 2011.
RINAP 5/1 Novotny / Jeffers, 2018.
RINAP 5/2 Jeffers / Novotny, 2023.
SAA 1 Parpola, 1987.
SAA 7 Fales / Postgate, 1997.
SAA 8 Hunger, 1992.
SAA 10 Parpola, 1993.
SAA 12 Kataja / Whiting, 1995.
SAA 20 Parpola, 2017.
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chanismen der Legitimation des babylonischen Herrschers im 1. Jahrtausend
v. Chr. und ihre Geschichte. Dresden.
Ermidoro, S., 2015: Commensality and Ceremonial Meals in the Neo-Assyrian
Period. Antichistica 8, Studi orientali 3. Venezia: Edizioni Ca’ Foscari –
Digital Publishing.
Fales, M. F. / Postgate, N., 1992: Imperial Administrative Records, Part I: Palace
and Temple Administration. States Archives of Assyria 7. Helsinki.
Frahm, E., 2017: “The Neo-Assyrian Period (ca. 1000–609 BCE)”. In E. Frahm
(ed.): A Companion to Assyria. Hoboken, 161–208.
Frame, G., 2021: The Royal Inscriptions of Sargon, King of Assyria (721–705
BC). The Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period 2. Winona Lake.
Frankena, R., 1954: Tākultu de sakrale maaltijd in net assyrische ritueel. Com-
menationes orientales 2. Leiden.
Frayne, D., 1993: Sargonic and Gudean Periods. The Royal Inscriptions of
Mesopotamia, Early Periods 2. Toronto.
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nel culto ufficiale dell’Assiria del primo millennio a.C. History of the Ancient
Near East Monographs 13. Padova.
— 2012b: “La cucina del dio e del re nell’alimentazione dell’impero assiro”. In
L. Milano (ed.): Mangiare divinamente. Pratiche e simbologie alimentari
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— 1993: Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars. State Archives of
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Near Eastern Records 6. Boston and Berlin.
Russell, J. M., 1999: The Writing on the Wall: Studies in the Architectural Context
of Late Assyrian Palace Inscriptions. Mesopotamian Civilizations, 9. Winona
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Tarhan, Z., 2022: Vlast i ideologiya v Rannata novoasiriyska imperiya (934–745
g. pr.Hr.) [Authority and Ideology in the Early Neo-Assyrian Empire (934–
745 B.C.)]. Sofia.
van Driel, G., 1969: The Cult of Aššur. Studia Semitica Neerlandica 13. Assen.
Villard, P., 2013: “Les commensaux des rois néo-assyriens”. In C. Grandjean /
Ch. Hugoniot / B. Lion (eds.): Le banquet du monarque dans le monde an-
tique, Rennes / Tours, 215–229.
Winter, I., 2013: “Le banquet royal assyrien: mise en oeuvre de la rhétorique de
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5.
Christie Carr**
*
Thank you to the organisers of the RAI 2021 Turin, and to the chairs, fellow presenters,
and participants of the ‘Literature’ panel for your feedback and your insightful questions.
Thank you also to my supervisor, Professor Jacob Dahl, for your feedback and encourage-
ment when writing this paper.
**
Wolfson College, Oxford.
1
For further examples of this metaphor in the ancient Near Eastern context, see Brenner,
1999: 107; Veenker, 1999–2000: 62ff; Paul, 2002: 495; Brownsmith, 2020. The metaphor
is not only restricted to poetry but can be found, for example, in contemporary pop culture
(Parasecoli, 2007; Spang, 2011).
2
Consumption of a lover as metaphor for love was discussed by the French bishop and
theologian Jaques Benigne Bousset; ‘in the ecstasy of human love, who is unaware that
we eat and devour each other, that we long to become part of each other in every way …’
(in Siegel, 1978: 44).
398 Christie Carr
and hunger/eating.3 The examples associated with hunger/eating that the author
provides from everyday speech particularly emphasise lust as a feeling of primal
need: “she’s sex-starved”, “he prepared to satisfy their sexual hunger”. This is
because eating and sexual intercourse share basic, embodied features that lead to
their conceptual and metaphorical relationship. These are the entering of external
substances into the body and penetration; both hunger and sexual drive are con-
sidered instinctual; both eating and sex create social relationships and both, of
course, include the stimulation of the senses.4
The Sumerian “Love Songs”,5 an Old Babylonian literary ‘corpus’ which de-
picts the relationship of the goddess Inanna and her lover Dumuzi,6 use rich and
multi-valent metaphorical erotic language, including a plethora of food imagery.7
In Toward the Image of Tammuz, Thorkild Jacobsen observed that the basic ex-
perience of Dumuzi was through the phenomena of food, namely dates, grain,
beer and milk, and likened the ‘attraction and enticement in response to Tammuz’
to the experience and rapture of enjoying pleasurable food.8 He reasoned that the
connection between the ‘undemanding pleasure in the sheer being of the beloved
Dumuzi’ and the tastiness of food was due to the ‘universal use of metaphors from
the realm of eating and tasting for love, ranging from sexual “appetite” and “hun-
ger” to the lover’s desire to “eat” his beloved, and to his use of terms like sweet,
delicious, honey’.9 Jacobsen noted the universality of this metaphor, but only con-
sidered it in relation to experiencing the powers of Dumuzi, without exploring
how the metaphor also manifests in depicting the sexual encounters of the lovers
in the Sumerian “Love Songs”. This paper explores the ways in which the ‘uni-
versal’ sex, food, and eating metaphors can be detected in the world’s oldest erotic
literary texts.
3
Kövecses, 2010: 30
4
Counihan, 1999: 9
5
Sefati, 1998. This corpus usually includes Inanna-Dumuzi A-F1 (ETCSL 4.08), and Šu-
Suen A, B, C (ETCSL 2.4.4.1–3). I also include Inanna G, H (ETCSL 4.07.7–8), the Man-
chester Tammuz (Alster 1992), and Šulgi Z (ETCSL 2.4.2.26).
6
Some texts also depict the erotic relationship of Inanna and the king Šu-Suen (A, B, C),
and those that feature unnamed female and male lovers, for example Inanna-Dumuzi D,
E, G, Y, F1.
7
The metaphorical language of the Sumerian “Love Songs” has often been compared with
other love and erotic poetry of the ancient Near East (Lambert, 1987; Goodnick-West-
enholz, 1991; Paul, 1996; 2002). Agricultural and plant metaphor in erotic Sumerian and
Akkadian literature, within and outside the “Love Songs” corpus, has most recently been
treated by Couto-Ferreira, 2017; Bertolini, 2020; Zisa, 2021. The application of conceptual
metaphor theory (see below) in analysing what metaphor in the Sumerian “Love Songs”
can tell us about cultural constructs of sexuality, desire, and pleasure is the topic of my
DPhil research (University of Oxford).
8
Jacobsen, 1970: 74–80.
9
Jacobsen, 1970: 79–80.
Desire and Hunger; Women and Food 399
10
In the Song of Songs, the ‘male lover “eats” and “drinks” the female lover’ (Brenner,
1999: 107). See Brownsmith, 2020: 31ff for this construction, particularly in biblical texts.
In Old Babylonian Akkadian similes, Wasserman identified that it is mostly women who
are compared to fruit or domestic plants (Wasserman, 1999: 193). Crespo-Fernández, 2015
has identified the misogynistic trend of referring to woman as foodstuffs in internet forums
(Crespo-Fernández, 2015: 153ff).
11
Adams, 1990; see also Brownsmith, 2020.
12
Adams, 1990: 73.
13
Counihan, 1999: 63.
14
Archival documents across periods for large households and palaces suggest, however,
that food preparation and production roles were shared amongst men and women. See
essays in Lion / Michel, 2016.
15
In the Ur III period, bride wealth gifts were given exclusively by the groom to the family
of the bride (Greengus, 1990).
16
This motif in which it is Dumuzi that is associated with the food/produce brought to
Inanna could also be indicative of the fact that Inanna was perhaps not originally nor solely
a fertility/mother goddess (perhaps worshipped in archaic Uruk in her astral aspect, see
Szarzynska 1993: 8. A lengthy passage from Inanna C (ETCSL 4.07.3, lines 115ff) exem-
plifies the numerous domains associated with Inanna). As a reflection of Inanna’s special
400 Christie Carr
god gives the goddess abundant produce and gifts just as he gives her pleasure.17
divine status, see col. iv, lines 1ff of Inanna-Dumuzi C1; a fragmentary passage which
Sefati interprets as Dumuzi promising his new wife that she will not have to do the work
of a typical housewife (Sefati, 1998: 294).
17
Evident in Inanna-Dumuzi D, lines 5–6: š a 3 k i - i g - g a a g ̃ 2 ḫ i - l i a g ̃ 2 k u 7 - k u 7 - d a m /
k u 3 g a - š a - a n - n a - g ̃ u 1 0 a g ̃ 2 - š e 3 m a - r a - a n - b a , ‘A beloved heart and sexual pleasure
are the sweetest things / My Inanna, to you he gave them as a gift’.
18
Lakoff / Johnson, 1980; 1999.
19
Lakoff / Johnson, 1980: 25; Lakoff / Johnson, 1999: 45; Gibbs, 2005: 66; Kövecses,
2006: 117–118.
20
Lakoff / Johnson, 1980: 25; Kövecses, 2010.
21
Kövecses, 2006: 64.
22
For example, Short, 2018a and 2018b. The application of conceptual metaphor theory
to the ancient Mesopotamian world has been particularly prosperous in analysing medical
literature (Steinert, 2017; Salin, 2018; Al-Rashid, 2021).
Desire and Hunger; Women and Food 401
gest that food and sex, pleasure and appetite had a metaphorical relationship.
The first indication of this is tied up with the concept of ḫi-li, which appears
frequently within the corpus, either as an attribute of or syntactically parallel to
images such as flax, barley, and honey, which map onto sexual target domains.23
ḫi-li as a concept covers several semantic fields. Lexically and contextually, it is
equated with the Akkadian noun kuzbu, and can express luxuriance, abundance,
attractiveness, charm, pleasure, and joy.24 In the “Love Songs”, we also find the
semantically associated terms la-la and ma-az,25 whose Akkadian equivalents
indicate similar semantic fields of rejoicing, but also swelling and flourishing
(elēṣum, ḫitbuṣu, šebû, elṣiš, ulṣum).26 That there are also sexual connotations to
these terms is evident by the noun ulṣum, which with the verb epēšum can mean
to experience sexual pleasure. Akkadian šebû, meaning both ‘to become sated
(with food)’ and ‘to enjoy fully’,27 seemingly bridges a gap between the state of
being full of a substance, the human body being full of food, and the experience
of joy, sexual pleasure, and satisfaction.
The nuance of sexual desire and pleasure as a feeling of fullness and satiation
can be detected in the composition Inanna-Dumuzi E,28 where ḫi-li helps con-
struct barley as a conceptual metaphor for the vulva and the female body:29
3 še ab -sin 2 -ba ḫi-li-a sa 5 - g ̃ u 10 ḫi-is sar-am 3 a ba-an-du 11
My barley in its furrow, filled with sexual allure, it is the lettuce he watered!
The barley in the furrow, an opening in the earth in which to plant seed and
pour water,30 also mimics the conceptual shape of the female genitals as a vessel
for containing liquids, and thus as something that can be filled and emptied.31 That
23
For example, marking barley as the vulva in Inanna-Dumuzi A, line 5, š e a b - s i n 2 - n a
ḫ i - l i m a - a z d i r i g - g a , ‘the barley in the furrow, overflowing with allure and lust!’.
24
Jaques, 2006: 251ff; CAD K: 614. The semantic range is also connected to its meaning
as a wig, presumably aiding in the attractiveness of the wearer; see the inscribed stone wig
from the reign of Šulgi with the dedication: ḫ i - l i n a m - m u n u s - k a - n i / m u - n a - d i m 2 ,
‘he fashioned for her a wig of womanliness’ (Frame, 1997: 216; CDLI P226717).
25
For example, in Inanna-Dumuzi A, line 5, and perhaps Inanna-Dumuzi Q, line 8 (Klein/
Sefati, 2012).
26
Jaques, 2006: 251 n.519.
27
CAD Š2: 251ff.
28
See this same construction in Inanna-Dumuzi A, line 5.
29
Assante, 2002: 35.
30
Sefati and Couto-Ferreira significantly point to a first millennium lexical list which
equates a b - s i n 2 with the Akkadian word for womb, ša3-sur-rum (Antagal B 88; Sefati,
1998: 215; Couto-Ferreira, 2017: 64).
31
An iteration of the BODY IS A CONTAINER metaphor; the body in many Mesopota-
mian sources is conceptualised as a vessel for containing liquids. The metaphor is often
used to conceptualise the female reproductive body (Steinert, 2017). This is also expressed
in other Sumerian literary texts; for example, where semen is depicted as being poured
402 Christie Carr
the body can be filled with ḫi-li, allure and desire, in Inanna-Dumuzi E, also
mirrors the feeling of fullness upon being satiated with food, and so we can ob-
serve a variation of the ‘universal’ metaphor that connects eating with sexual de-
sire and pleasure.
into the womb in Enki and Ninḫursag̃a (ETCSL 1.1.1), line 73: d n i n - ḫ u r - s a g ̃ - g ̃ a 2 - k e 4
a ša3-ga ba-ni-in-ri.
32
Inanna-Dumuzi A, lines 3–5.
33
In Inanna-Dumuzi E, lines 1–5, and Šu-Suen C, lines 1–2.
34
Inanna-Dumuzi E, line 4 (see Leick, 1994: 123). The lettuce has previously been inter-
preted as a metaphor for the penis (Alster, 1993: 21).
35
Sumerian g i r i n ; Inanna-Dumuzi F, lines 1–8.
36
Prominent in Inanna-Dumuzi B.
37
Inanna-Dumuzi P, col. ii. lines 24ff and Inanna H, lines 22–25.
38
See author’s forthcoming PhD thesis.
39
I treat simile, and other mechanisms such as metonymy, on a spectrum of metaphoricity.
The difference between simile and metaphor is only linguistic: ‘This attempt to define
metaphor in terms of syntactic form misses entirely what metaphor is about: the under-
standing of one concept in terms of another. Statements of both forms can employ concep-
tual metaphor. The kind called a simile simply makes a weaker claim … the syntactic form
of an utterance has little, if anything, to do with whether metaphor is involved in compre-
hending it’ (Lakoff / Turner, 1989: 133).
Desire and Hunger; Women and Food 403
the female body implies that to drink her is enjoyable, giving us the target domain
of sexual pleasure, the enjoyment of a thing.40 The conceptual metaphor is not
limited only to the resemblance of taste, but also incorporates the wetness of the
aroused female genitals, mouth, and beer, and the cultural construction of the
female body as a vessel that can exude liquids. In Šu-Suen A, the female body is
therefore positioned as a liquid to be drunk by her admiring male beloved.
40
The three main abstract target domains present in the Sumerian “Love Songs” are se-
mantically and conceptually linked, often appearing together, and can therefore be difficult
to categorise. The basic criteria of which emotion is being expressed has been decided on
the following basis: sexual desire = the want of a thing; sexual allure = state of attractive-
ness; sexual pleasure = enjoyment of a thing.
41
The verb m i 2 – d u 1 1 is used in an explicitly sexual context in Šulgi X (ETCSL 2.4.2.24),
lines 34–35.
404 Christie Carr
Food is also used as a metaphor for female desire.42 For example, where we saw
the vulva likened to sweet beer in Šu-Suen A, in Šu-Suen B, the female speaker’s
own desire for her lover is expressed through the emphasis on his sweetness and
the desirability of tasting (his) honey:
4 ḫi-li-zu ag ̃ 2 ze 2 -ba-am 3 lal 3 -am 3 k u 7 -ku 7 -da
Your allure is a sweet thing, it is the sweetest honey!
The frequent food, plant, and animal imagery across the corpus also metaphorises
a sought-after abundance and prosperity of the land, often caused by the sexual
union of Inanna and Dumuzi. In Inanna-Dumuzi D1, for example, Inanna desires
productive fields, fish, flax, barley, birds, sheep, goats, honey, wine, lettuce, and
other plants that Dumuzi will again bring to her once she has bestowed kingship
upon him (lines 47–59). Because many of these source domains also map onto
target domains of female desire and pleasure, abundance of food produce in the
Sumerian “Love Songs” forges an eroticism that is sensed through Inanna’s desire
to have plentiful foodstuffs, plants, and fruit to consume, mimicking a (female)
hunger for sexual pleasure.
7. Conclusions
We can therefore observe some variations on the seemingly universal conceptual
metaphors, desire is hunger, women are food, which as shown above are present
in the world’s oldest erotic literary texts. Sexual desire and pleasure as a hunger
and eating are not explicit, but implicitly built into the semantic fields associated
with the key concept of ḫi-li, and the way the female body is metaphorically
constructed primarily through source domains of food, plants or produce.
However, there are several nuances of the metaphor in the Sumerian “Love
Songs”. Whilst the female body is situated as consumable food or domesticable
land, food is brought to her; the female figures of the “Love Songs” desire the
taste of honey; her arousal is represented as sweet beer; and her pleasure as the
rising of barley and flax. Food is not only the female body for the male to con-
sume, but it also participates metaphorically in the construction of the female sex-
ual experience of her own pleasure and desire.
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Desire and Hunger; Women and Food 407
Paola Dardano
1. In Hittite the verbs for eating and drinking, together with their synonyms, are
attested in some locutions where they have lost their literal value having assumed
a metaphorical one.1 Based on examples from Old Hittite historical and legal
texts, this paper aims to elucidate some metaphorical expressions comprising the
verbs ed-/ad- ‘to eat’ and eku-/aku- ‘to drink’. It is suggested that in the interaction
between members of the royal family and/or officials, these expressions served a
number of different communicative goals: they had an emphatic purpose, and
their use was closely linked to the pragmatic context of interaction as well as to
the role of the interlocutor.
Phraseological units are fixed expressions (of two or more words) that are id-
iomatic.2 Fixedness is a crucial notion, which, together with non-compositionality
and semantic opacity, has long been considered the defining feature of phraseo-
logical units. A lexical item is said to be non-compositional if its global meaning
is different from the sum of its individual parts. Moreover, a given sequence is
said to be opaque if, from the meaning of the elements that comprise it, one cannot
reconstruct its global meaning. In this respect, an expression such as to bite the
dust must be viewed as an idiom, a fixed and non-compositional semantic unit. It
is important to consider both the literal and the figurative readings of a phraseme:
even if one understands all of the words that make up the expression tirer le diable
par la queue (lit. ‘pull the devil’s tail’), it is not enough to make it comprehensible.
That figurative idioms have a figurative meaning is beyond a doubt. What is im-
portant is the role played by metaphor (and metonymy) in the creation and exten-
sion of the figurative meaning.
2. In the so-called Political Testament of Ḫattušili I, when the king adopted his
grandson Muršili and asked the dignitaries gathered in Kuššara to recognise him
1
I am indebted to the anonymous referee for very helpful comments and criticism that
helped me improve this paper. I of course remain solely responsible for the contents.
2
See Burger et al., 2007; Granger / Meunier, 2008.
410 Paola Dardano
as the legal heir to the throne, the king’s purpose was to guarantee the prosperity
of the royal family and thus of the Hittite state. The king says “If you keep the
father’s word, you will [eat bread] and drink water”, i.e. “you will be healthy,
prosperous”:
KUB 1.16+ III 28–32 – CTH 6
28 … ma-a-an at-ta-aš ut-tar pa-aḫ-⸤ḫa-aš⸥-ta
29 [NINDA-an e-ez-za-a]š-ši wa-a-tar-ra e-ku-uš-ši ma-a-an LÚma-ya-a[n-
d]a-ta[r]
30 [kar-di-it-]ti nu-za UD-an II-ŠU III-ŠU e-it nu-za a-ar-š[i-i-ya-a]ḫ-ḫu!-ut
31 [ma-a-an(-ma ?) LÚ]ŠU.GI-tar-ra kar-di-it-ti nu-za ni-in-ki-iḫ-ḫ[u-ut ]
32 [Ú-UL (?) at-ta-aš-š]a ut-tar pé-e-eš-ši-ya
If you keep your father’s word, you [will eat bread] and drink water. When
the prime of young adulthood is [within] you, then eat two or three times a
day, and tr[ea]t yourself. [But when] old age is within you, drink your fill,
[do not] set aside [(your) father’s] word!3
A little later in the same text we read the fixed phrase ‘to eat bread (and) drink
water’. The dignitaries were repeatedly urged to respect what the king said; if they
ignored his words, they would perish:
KUB 1.16+ III 46–49 – CTH 6
46 [šu-me-eš-ma la-]ba?-ar-na-aš LUGAL.GAL ud-da-a-ar-me-et pa-aḫ-
ḫa-aš-nu-ut-te-en
47 [ma-a-na-a]t pa-aḫ-ḫa-aš-du-ma nu URUḪa-at-tu-ša-aš ša-ra-a ar-ta
KUR-še-me-et-ta
48 [wa-ar-a]š-nu-ut-te-ni NINDA-an az-za-aš-te-ni wa-a-tar-ra e-ku-ut-
te-ni ma-a-an
49 [Ú-UL-m]a pa-aḫ-ḫa-aš-du-ma KUR-e-še-me-et ta-me-u-ma-an ki-i-
ša-ri
[You] (my subjects) must keep my words, those of [L]abarna, the Great
King. [As long as] you keep [them], Ḫattuša will stand tall, and you will
set your land [at peace]. You will eat bread and drink water. But if you [do
not] keep them, your land will fall under foreign control.4
The formula ‘to eat bread (and) drink water’ is also attested in the Old Hittite text
KUB 36.110. It should be stressed that only in this passage do the direct objects
in the accusative show the enclitic possessive pronouns (-šan and -šet, respec-
3
Both here and in the subsequent passages of the Testament, Beckman (2003: 81) inter-
prets the formula as exhorting a “Spartan lifestyle”, and translates: “You must eat (only)
bread and drink (only) water”. I do not agree with this interpretation, but prefer to read it
as ‘to be safe and sound’. On the ‘Political Testament’ of Ḫattušili I, see also Goedeg-
ebuure, 2006.
4
See also KUB 1.16+ III 33–39.
“Eat and drink, but do not look at my, the king’s, eyes!” 411
tively). As in the previous example, the formula probably signifies the munifi-
cence of the king in offering his subjects sustenance. However, the text is corrupt
and interpretation remains uncertain. The force of the imperfective verb form ak-
kuške- in line 7´ compared to eku- in line 6´ also remains obscure:
KUB 36.110 Vo 5´–7´ – CTH 820.1
5´ [ -]ta-aš-ši LUGAL-aš NINDA-ša-an a-du-e?[-ni]
6´ [wa-a-ta]r?-še-ta a-ku-e-ni na-aš-ta GAL GUŠKIN!-a[š]
7´ [GEŠT]IN?-na-an pár-ku-in ak-ku-uš-ke-e-wa-ni
… of the king his bread we will ea[t.] We will drink his [wat]er?. From (lit.
of) a gold cup we will begin to drink pure [win]e? (Hoffner, 2010: 131–
132)
3. We will now consider other passages in which the phraseme ‘eat (and) drink’
can be interpreted in a different way. In his Testament, Ḫattušili I establishes
Muršili as heir to the throne, and provides rules of conduct that are intended to
consolidate the royal family and the Hittite state. Ḫattušili had initially chosen
Labarna, his sister’s son, to be the heir to the throne, but as Labarna behaved badly
towards him, he revoked appointing him as his successor. In the end Ḫattušili
assigns him a house, land and animals and says, “Now he should eat and drink!”.
If Labarna plans any evil against the king, he must stay in his house, i.e. he is no
longer allowed to come to Ḫattuša and attend the court. It is important to note that
both verbs ed- ‘to eat’ and eku- ‘to drink’ are in the imperfective form (azzikke-
and akkuške-, respectively) and no direct object is given:
KUB 1.16+ II 31–36 – CTH 6
31 DUMU-mi la-ba-ar-ni É?[-i]r? pé-eḫ-ḫ[u-un A.ŠÀ-še me-e]k-ki
32 pé-eḫ-ḫu-un GU4ḪI.A-še me-e[k-k]i pé-eḫ-ḫu-u[n UDUḪI.A-še me-ek-k]i
pé-eḫ-ḫu-un
33 nu az-zi-ik-ki-id-du [a]k-[k]u-uš-ki-[i]d-d[u ma-a-na-aš aš-šu-uš]
34 na-aš-ta ša-ra-a ú-iš-⸢ki⸣-[i]t-ta-ru ma-a-a[n-ma-aš pu-ug-ga-a]n-za
35 ti-i-e-ez-zi na-aš-ma ku-uš-du[-wa-a-t]a ku-it-k[i na-aš-ma ḫar-nam-]
ma ku-it-ki
36 na-aš-kán ša-ra-a le-e ú-iš[-k]i-it-ta n[a-aš É-ri-iš-ši e-eš-]du5
I have now given my son Labarna a hou[s]e. I have given him [arable land]
in plenty. I have given him cattle in plenty. I have given [him sheep in
plenty]. He shall continue to eat and drink (his fill). [As long as he is on his
best behaviour], he shall come up from time to time (to Ḫattuša to visit).
But if he begins [to cause trouble(?)], or (if he spreads) any slander, [or]
5
The Akkadian version is very badly damaged at this point: only the precative li-ku-ul
(I 32) from akālu(m) ‘to eat’ is preserved. This form corresponds to the Hittite phrase “he
should eat” (in exile).
412 Paola Dardano
and […], he will not be permitted to come up (again), but [shall remain on
his own estate] (Beckman, 2003: 79–80).
In the same text, there is a good example of the use of azzikke- and akkuške- as
opposed to ‘eat bread (and) drink water’ shortly after. Ḫattušili’s daughter had
also turned against her father, but Ḫattušili managed to assert his power over her.
He has banished her and prohibits her from returning to court.6 He has assigned
her a property in the countryside and forbids her to enter Ḫattuša with the words,
“A house has been allotted to her in the country, now she shall eat and drink!”:
KUB 1.16+ III 16–25 – CTH 6
16 [ ]x at-ta-aš ut-tar pé-e-eš-ši-i-e-et
MEŠ URU
17 [nu A-NA DUMU ḪA-AT-TI e-eš-ḫ]ar-ši-mi-it e-ku-ut-ta ki-nu-
na-aš
18 [URU-az kat-ta u-i-ya-an-za ma-]⸤a⸥-na-aš pár-nam-ma ú-iz-zi nu-kán
É-ir-me-et
19 [wa-aḫ-nu-uz-zi ma-a-na-aš UR]UḪa-⸢at⸣-tu-ši-ma ú-iz-zi
20 [nu a-pu-u-un da-a-an e-d]i? na-a-i ut-ne-e-še
21 [É-it tág-ga-aš-š]a-an nu az-zi-ik-ki-id-du
22 [ak-ku-uš-ki-id- ]du
——————————————————————————
23 [šu-me-eš-ma-an i-da-a-lu le-]e i-ya-at-te-ni a-pa-a-aš i-da-a-lu i-e-et
24 [ú-uk i-da-a-lu EGIR-]pa? Ú-UL i-ya-am-mi a-pa-a-aš-mu-za at-ta-an
25 [Ú-UL ḫal-za-iš ] ú-ga-an-za DUMU.MUNUSTI Ú-UL ḫal-zi-iḫ-ḫi
She has rejected (her) father’s word and has drunk [their blood, i.e. of the
citizens of Ḫattuša]. Now she [has been banished from the city]. If she were
to come to my household, [she would surely disrupt] my household. [If
she] were to come to Ḫattuša, she would cause [it] to revolt [once more. A
house has been allotted(?)] to her in the country – now (she shall stay there,
and) she shall eat (and) [drink]. (§) [You] shall not do [her any harm]. She
did (me) harm, but I shall not do (her) [harm in return]. She [would not
call] me father, so I shall not call her daughter (Beckman, 2003: 81).
The ‘eat (and) drink’ formula is also found in other texts of the Old Hittite tradi-
tion. A very similar passage occurs in an annalistic text dated to Muršili I that
illustrates a military campaign against the Hurrians in eastern and southern Ana-
tolia.7 Although the text is corrupt, the king is probably speaking to his subjects:
KUB 31.64 (+) 64a + KBo 3.55 II 18´–20´ – CTH 12
18´ …. ḫal-ma-aš-š[u-it-ti-mi] LUGAL-aš a-aš-šu-me-et [ ]
19´ [me-e]k-ki ki-it-ta a[z-zi-ik-ki-it-te-en ak-]ku-uš-kit9-te-en [ ]
6
On this episode see Gilan, 2020.
7
See de Martino, 2003: 168–171.
“Eat and drink, but do not look at my, the king’s, eyes!” 413
8
See above, KUB 1.16+ III 16–25.
9
On the new joins see Marazzi, 2019–2020.
“Eat and drink, but do not look at my, the king’s, eyes!” 415
The prince of the city of Purušḫanda rebelled against Ḫattuša and was – as is
figuratively described – “put into the hand (of the Hittite king)” by the gods (KBo
3.28 II 6΄–7΄), i.e., was defeated. We do not know anything about his fate or
punishment, but the family of the rebellious prince was treated with mercy and
was not harmed. His wife and sisters were spared, and the king addressed them
with the solemn formula: “Go, eat and drink, but do not look at my, the king’s,
eyes!”. In this passage, the expression ‘eat (and) drink’ can be read as a formula
of banishment: the female relatives of the rebellious prince are not put to death,
but cannot be admitted into the king’s presence, i.e., they cannot ‘look at the
king’s eyes’:10
KBo 3.28++ II 6΄–9΄– CTH 9.6
6΄ … šu-mu DINGIRDIDLI DUMU URUPu-r[u-uš-ḫa-an-du-um-na-an]
7΄ ki-iš-ri-mi da-i-ir LUGAL-uš A-NA DAM-ŠU ne-ga-aš-š[a]-aš-ša
8΄ i-it-te-en az-zi-kit9-te-en ak-ku-uš-kit9-te-en LUGAL-wa-ša
9΄ ša-a-⸢ku⸣-wa-me-et le-e uš-te-ni
The gods put the prince of Pur[ušḫanda] into my hand and I, the king, said
to his wife and his sisters: “Go, eat and drink, but do not look at my, the
king’s, eyes!”
From this it can be concluded that the victorious ruler pardoned the female rela-
tives of the prince, but banished them as their presence could no longer be toler-
ated. This text strengthens the hypothesis that the phrase ‘eat (and) drink’ is a
formula for banishment. The wife and sisters of the rebellious prince are allowed
to live, but they are abandoned to their fate and can no longer take part in the life
of the court.
4. Our results can be tentatively summarised as follows. The phraseme ‘eat (and)
drink’ has a twofold purpose. When the two verbs take the suffix -ške-, are in the
imperative form and are absolute (that is, they are not accompanied by any direct
object, but refer solely to the subject), we have a banishment formula. The king is
solemnly speaking to high dignitaries or members of the royal family: ‘eat and
drink’ thus means ‘you are alive, your life is saved’, i.e., ‘you are not sentenced
to death, but you are banished from court’. On the other hand, if the two verbs
have an object in the accusative, i.e., ‘eat bread’ and ‘drink water’, the expression
should be taken more literally: it means ‘to stay alive, be safe and sound’. We can
therefore conclude that it is not the lexical choice, but the morphosyntactic struc-
ture that allows us to distinguish between the two formulas. As shown in Table 1,
there is conclusive evidence that the metaphorical use ‘eat (and) drink’ is distinct
from the non-metaphorical ‘eat bread (and) drink water’:
10
On šakuwa auš- as a loan translation from Akk. ēn(ē) X amāru(m) ‘to visit’, lit. ‘to see
the eyes (of someone)’, see Dardano, 2010.
416 Paola Dardano
Table 1
5. This analysis has demonstrated the varied phraseology associated with verbs
for eating and drinking. In particular, it has highlighted the major role played by
metaphor in the creation and extension of new phrasal patterns. What makes these
idioms stand out from other phrasemes is their high degree of idiomaticity, which
manifests itself in semantic opacity in addition to a distinct figurative element.
It is clear from these remarks that phraseology can be a springboard for stim-
ulating further study. Indeed, there is a close connection between culture and phra-
seology. This is best revealed by proverbs and fully idiomatic set phrases, as they
tend to rely heavily on images, traditions and habits that are characteristic of a
given culture. Phraseology can be seen as the linguistic repository of a number of
culturally specific traditions.
Phrasemes revealing cultural models that belong to a group provide infor-
mation about the values that that culture upholds. In doing so, they also express
the rules that govern social behaviour in a specific culture. This demonstrates the
importance of studying conventional figurative language, not only to reveal its
cultural content, but also to explore fully the link between figurative language and
culture.
Bibliography
Beckman, G. M., 2003: “Bilingual Edict of Ḫattušili I”. In: W. W. Hallo (ed.):
The Context of Scripture, vol. II, Leiden: Brill, 79–81.
Burger, H. / Dobrovol’skij, D. / Kühn, P. / Norrick, N. R. (eds.), 2007: Phrase-
ologie / Phraseology. Ein internationales Handbuch zeitgenössischer For-
schung / An International Handbook of Contemporary Research. HSK 28/1.
Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 237–253.
Dardano, P., 2010: “‘Guardare gli occhi del re’: per l’analisi di una formula an-
tico-ittita”. In J. Klinger / E. Rieken / Chr. Rüster (eds.): Investigationes Ana-
“Eat and drink, but do not look at my, the king’s, eyes!” 417
“Like any mašqītu-potion that my lord drinks, you put three drops into the
libation bowl with the tip of a stylus and drink it before the bread. (SAA
10 336 o. 1 – r. 2)”1
1. Introductory notes
One of the most often prescribed cure against internal diseases in the Assyro-
Babylonian medicine is potion (Akk. mašqītu).2 The goal of the paper is to analyse
its preparation and use in the Stomach treatise of the Nineveh medical encyclope-
dia (henceforth NME).3 It bears the title šumma amēlu suāla maruṣ ana kīs libbi
itâr (“If a man is sick with suālu-cough (which) turns into intestinal disease”) and
consists of five serialized manuscripts.4 The text includes bulṭu recipes, medical
*
The research for the paper is prepared with the support of the program “Young scholars
and postdoctoral students” of Bulgarian Ministry of Education and Science. This paper is
greatly benefitted from the useful comments and remarks of Prof. Markham Geller to
whom I would like to thank. I am especially grateful to Dr. Strahil Panayotov for his many
comments, advices and English language corrections. All remaining mistakes in the text
are mine.
1
ki-⸢i⸣ maš-qit me-me-[ni] ša be-lí i-šat-tu-u-ni 03-šú ina pi-i ša qar-ṭup-pi ⸢ina⸣ mu-naq-
qi-te ⸢ta⸣-kar-ra-ar pa-na-at NINDA.MEŠ ta-šá-at-ti.
2
The word mašqītu is found in medical texts as well as in royal letters (there is a diversity
of specified potions, see CAD m: 383). It derives from the verb šaqû “to pour a drink, to
give to drink”. Mašqītu could also be used in reference to enemas (see CAD m: 384, Stei-
nert with Panayotov / Geller / Schmidtchen / Johnson, 2018: 276).
3
See BAMTU 9 and http://oracc.museum.upenn.edu/asbp/ninmed/ (visited 04.2022). I use
the transliterations and translations provided by NinMed project on Oracc site, Cadelli’s
French edition of suālu and Scurlock’s Handbook. See http://oracc.museum.upenn.edu/
asbp/ninmed/, Cadelli, 2000; Scurlock, 2014.
4
See Cadelli, 2000, http://oracc.museum.upenn. edu/asbp/ninmed/ and Panayotov, 2018b:
102f. The best preserved tablets are BAM 574 (Tablet 1 of the series), BAM 575 (Tablet
2), BAM 578 (Tablet 3) and BAM 579 (Tablet 5). The central theme of Tablet 1 is kis libbi
(gastric constriction). Tablet 2 deals with different libbu problems. BAM 578 is mostly
concerned with martu bile and BAM 579 with internal heat.
420 Kiril Mladenov
incantations and rituals. Common terms designating the stomach area are “in-
sides” (libbu) and its components (karšu “stomach”, irrû “intestines”).5
Assyro-Babylonian believes about the internal structure and functioning of the
human body are hard to grasp. Yet, they are allegorically visualised in medical
incantations.6 We may assume that most of the knowledge about the insides of the
belly came from seeing battle wounds and especially divination with animals.7
2. Preparation of a potion
A potion can have healing, magical or poisonous properties. As summarised by
Goltz in her study of Babylonian and Greek medicine production: “Der Trank ist
die häufigste und zugleich einfachste Arzneiform. Die Formel ina šikari išatti,
„ein Bier trinke er“, könnte fast als Charakteristikum der babylonischen Medizin
gelten.”8 It is usually drunk on empty stomach (balu, lā patan). In prescriptions
like BAM 575 ii 17–18 drinking is described by the adverb “continually.”9
Sometimes, further instructions are given about timing the potion, BAM 579 i 10:
“He drinks them once, twice, three times on an empty stomach.”10
Traditional medicines reveal diverse techniques for potions – decoction (produced
by soaking and boiling the ingredients in a solvent), infusion (soaking the
ingredients in solvent over time), tincture (dissolving in alcohol) etc. The bulṭu
recipes however often lack specificity about the process of potion making and
drinking. Goltz writes: „muss angenommen werden, dass die Drogen zusammen
mit der Flüssigkeit geschluckt wurden“.11 This is however doubtful in recipes
where ingredients are not pounded (sâku) or crushed (hašālu). Probably, some-
times phases of the potion production were not mentioned because they were well
known to the physicians. Such an example is found in BAM 575 i 47:
“Alternatively, he drinks atā’išu-plant in beer and he will vomit. He drinks
white plant in oil and he will vomit.”12
5
See Cadelli, 2000: 289–312.
6
For data and analysis of Babylonian medical incantations see the dissertation of Collins,
1999 and Geller, 2007.
7
The ancient Greek verb anatome “to cut the whole into parts” refers back to the practice
of dissection. True anatomy was supposedly not developed until the time of the famed
Alexandrian physicians in IV–III BCE. See Geller, 2010: 3f.; Nutton, 2012: 130f.
8
Goltz, 1974: 60.
9
This instruction is often found in the prescriptions. It is usually expressed by putting the
verb in plural: NAG.MEŠ.
10
NU pa-tan 1-šu2 2-šu2 3-šu2 NAG.
11
Goltz, 1974: 60.
12
[ana] ⸢KI MIN⸣ u2KUR.KUR ina KAŠ NAG-ma i-ar2-ru3 U2 BABBAR ina I3.GIŠ NAG-
ma i-ar2-ru3.
The Potion in the 1st Millennium Assyro-Babylonian Medicine 421
When pounded, the ingredients could be consumed together with the liquid. They
were also mashed and simply drunk with no added liquids, see BAM 578 iii 16:
“You heat (sekēru “to heat in an oven”) root of ēru-tree (and) root of pom-
egranate in an oven, you keep mashing their liquids, you let them cool, he
drinks them, and then he will improve.”13
2.1 Solvents
Different liquids are used as solvents – beer, wine, water, milk, juice, oil etc. The
choice of the solvent might have been determined by different factors like: 1. sol-
ubility (some ingredients are soluble in alcohol); 2. availability; 3. taste (avoiding
or provoking a specific flavor); 4. age of the patient. Since the identification of
the ingredients is problematic, it is not certain to what degree the choice was cru-
cial for the recipe, or rather was a question of availability and personal taste. For
example, BAM 574 i 17–18 – a recipe against gastric constriction reads:
“You pound root of male pillû-mandrake, root of šūšu-liquorice, imḫur-
līm-plant, imḫur-ešrā-plant, tarmuš-lupin, maštakal-plant (and) lišān
kalbi-“dog’s tongue” plant (and) he drinks them either in water or beer.”14
BAM 574 ii 1 mentions more possibilities:
“If a man’s belly hurts him: you pound salted ḫašû-thyme, you put it in
water or beer or wine, (and) he drinks it.”15
In many recipes only one specific solvent is prescribed. Water is used in BAM
574 ii 10. An interesting case is BAM 578 iii 8–24 – simple prescriptions against
amurriqānu. At the beginning of the text the solvent for eight ingredients is beer
(iii 8–11):
“You pound burāšu-juniper, (and) he drinks it in beer. (iii 8)”16
Lines iii 11–12 contain four of the same ingredients but the solvent is milk. One
of them, namruqqu could also be consumed in water (iii 11).
“You pound burāšu-juniper, (and) he drinks it in milk.”17
Probably the missing pillû, murrānu, kurkanû, and imḫur-līm were to be drunk in
alcohol. Other recipes in Stomach suggest beer to be the preferred solvent for the
13
SUḪUŠ gišMA.NU SUḪUŠ giš⸢NU.UR2⸣.MA ina ⸢NINDU⸣ UŠ2-er A.MEŠ-šu-nu-ti3 tu-
sak6 tu-kaṣ3-ṣa NAG-ma ina-eš.
14
SUḪUŠ gišNAM.TAR NITA2 SUḪUŠ giššu-šum u2IGI-lim ⸢u2IGI⸣-NIŠ u2tar-muš ⸢u2IN.
NU⸣.UŠ u2EME UR.GI7 SUD2 lu ina A lu ⸢ina KAŠ⸣ NAG.
15
[DIŠ NA ŠA3]-⸢šu2⸣ GU7-šu2 u2ḪAR.ḪAR MUN SUD2 lu ⸢ina⸣ [A] ⸢lu⸣ ina KAŠ lu ina
GEŠTIN <<EN2>> ana ŠA3 ŠUB-di NAG.
16 šim
LI SUD2 ina KAŠ NAG.
17 šim
LI SUD2 ina GA NAG (BAM 578 iii 11).
422 Kiril Mladenov
2.2 Measurements
Measurements (SILA3 “litre”, KISAL “measure”, GIN2 “shekel”) are present in
some recipes, see BAM 574 i 19–20:
“If a man’s belly keeps throbbing up against him: you pound ten measures
of [x x x] x (and) ten measures of marišmalû-plant, you mix (balālu) them
[x x x x]; then he will recover.” 19
In BAM 575 there are further examples with measurments of salt, honey, šunû
tree (BAM 575 ii 56), date juice, sap of kasû-tamarind, ninû-mint (BAM 575 iv
43–44) etc. The shekel is also sometimes used as a measure in BAM 578 ii 57–ii
66. It is interesting to note that the solvent is measured as well.20
BAM 579 iv 43 – a potion against binding epigastrium and flatulence is de-
fined as šaqlutu “weighed” but no exact measures of the ingredients are rec-
orded.21 The instruction ta-ḫi-as-su (ḫâṭu “to portion”) in BAM 579 iv 42 refers
that the mixture is portioned.22
18
[ana KI MIN] ⸢ZI3 ŠE⸣.SA.A ZI3 ḫa-ru-be ⸢di⸣-ik-ta ZU2.LUM.MA TEŠ2.BI SUD2 ina
KAŠ NU pa-tan ⸢2 UD⸣-[me] [NAG.MEŠ 2?] ⸢UD-me⸣ ina A.MEŠ NU pa-tan NAG.MEŠ
A.MEŠ SAG ŠA3-šu2 ⸢tu-sa⸣-[laḫ2-ma TI].
19
DIŠ NA ŠA3-šu2 ⸢it⸣-te-net-ba-aš-šum 10 SILAₓ(KISAL) ⸢u2⸣[x x x] x 10 SILA (KISAL)
u2
MA2.ERIŠ4.MA2.⸢LA2-e⸣ SUD2 ḪI.ḪI [x x x x] ⸢TI⸣.
Stadhouders and Johnson use the definition “infrastructural compendia” for library ver-
sions of recipes, which systematically omit exact measures (Stadhouders / Johnson, 2018:
564–565).
20
See BAM 578 ii 58 – ii 66.
21
The connection of the description maš-qi-tu an-ni-tu URU3-ti LUGAL-ti šaq-lu-tu to
the text of the prescription is problematic. The text describes the ingredients as “drugs for
a bandage” (BAM 579 iv 39: U2 an-nu-ti3-ma ana mar-kas3-te) and further instructions in
reference of use are not given. See markastu (CAD m1: 282) and rakāsu (CAD r: 91).
22
See CAD h: 162. The instruction “you portion it” is written also in some other recipes
in BAM 579 in a clear relation to a tahittu dose (see CAD t: 50, BAM 579 i 59–65).
The Potion in the 1st Millennium Assyro-Babylonian Medicine 423
2.3 Cooking
Recipes contain information about boiling, heating and filtering the potions. Boil-
ing is described with two verbs, bašālu and salāqu:
“Alternatively, you boil (salа̄qu) dadānu-plant with wide leaves like laptu-
turnip, he continually drinks it, (and then) he will recover (BAM 574 i
48).”23
More prescriptions use the verb bašālu (“to prepare medication by boiling”).24
However, it is predominantly found in descriptions of enemas, washes and band-
ages. Bašālu for internal potion see in BAM 575 iii 19, iii 34 and iv 50:
“You boil it, filter it, cool it and keep it covered afterwards, he drinks it.”
(BAM 575 iv 50)25
Potions are often cooled (kaṣû) probably mostly for pragmatic reasons, in order
not to burn the patient. Presumably a drink could remove the heat in the body, see
BAM 575 iv 10:
“He drinks them in beer, (and thereby) you remove the heat from his belly,
and then he will recover”.26
Information for filtering (šaḫālu) a potion is sporadically found. Such a recipe is
BAM 575 iii 30 – a prescription against flatulence and fever where the mixture is
prepared through maceration (immersing ingredients in a liquid for specific time)
and filtering. The initial process of maceration is often followed by instruction to
leave the remedy under the Goat star. This action has magical and symbolic
meanings since this star is a manifestation of the healing goddess Gula.27 Macer-
ation is sometimes described with different verbs, depending presumably on the
nature of materia medica: rasānu “to steep” (see BAM 574 ii 14), labāku “to
soften” (see BAM 575 i 14), and ramāku “to soak” (BAM 575 i 17). Particular
days were more favorable (UD ŠE.GA) for taking a potion as shown in BAM 578
23
⸢ana⸣ KI MIN ⸢KIŠI16.ḪAB⸣ ša2 PA.MEŠ-šu2 DAGAL.MEŠ GIM LU.UB2 ⸢sar ta⸣-sa-
laq ⸢NAG.MEŠ TI⸣.
This place is however problematic. See the edition in Cadelli, 2000: 74. Because of the
corruption in the text it is not certain what is done with the medication. From recipes in
Hamstring Treatise of NME, it is known that plant leaves were boiled (salāqu) and then
poured (tabāku) over lessions (AMT 73/1 ii 50–52). See http://oracc.museum.upenn.edu/
asbp/ninmed/pager#P393740.121 (visited 04.22).
24
See CAD b: 135 (bašālu 6). Although not frequently, heated substances and heating as
a process are written in Stomach with the verb emēmu (BAM 575 i 49).
25
⸢ŠEG6⸣-šal ta-ša2-ḫal ŠED7 ina ŠA3 taḫ-ta-na-su EGIR-šu2 NAG.
26
ina KAŠ NAG um-mi ša2 ŠA3-šu2 ta-ša2-ḫaṭ-ma TI. See also BAM 579 i 22 and i 34.
27
See BAM 578 i 38–41. For the Goat star which corresponds to the constellation Lyra as
a manifestation of Gula see Böck, 2014: 181.
424 Kiril Mladenov
i 38–41. A unique detail there is the warning that before having a positive effect
on the patient, worsening (salā’u) of the condition is expected.
2.4 Testing
Although not specifically mentioned in Stomach we know from other medical
texts and from the royal correspondence that sometimes potions were tested, like
in the royal letter SAA 10 191 o. 11 – r. 1:
“Let us make those slaves drink first, and let the crown prince drink only
afterwards.”28
A variety of cures were specified as latku “tested, tried, proven”, pointing to the
empirical experimentations in the Assyro-Babylonian medicine.29
3. Treatment
The healing acted simultaneously on two levels – through therapy and through
incantations and ritual actions. The bulṭu recipes often instruct that potions should
provoke vomiting or bowel movement. In this way they could be used as emetics,
laxatives and antiflatulents. Rituals on the other hand, transfer healing powers into
the materia medica (BAM 574 ii 66).30
Medicine and magic often work together in traditional medicines. A glance at
Bulgarian traditional medicine might serve as a comparative point. An incantation
against floated stomach reads:
“Издат (izdat – a personification of the bloated stomach), brother, go to
the empty woods, where cat does not go, where dog does not go, where
cock does not go!”31
It is accompanied with a ritual, threatening the disease with a knife. At the end of
the incantation the knife is stuck in the ground, close to the patient. Then it is
taken out and the procedure is repeated 4–5 times.
28
LÚ.GÀL.MEŠ am-mu-te ni-ḫar-ru-up ni-šá-aq-qi ḫa-ra-me-ma DUMU–LUGAL li-is-
si.
29
See Steinert, 2015.
30
See Bácskay, 2009 and Panayotov, 2018a. Incantation texts often contain allusions to
the conducted therapy. For example, BAM 574 ii 26–27 – incantation against a stomach
disease reads: “Belch and feel better, young man! May the wind either come out through
(your) anus, or may a belch come out from (your) throat.” See also BAM 574 iv 17–22
and BAM 574 iv 27–29.
31
Todorova-Pirgova, 2019: 447. The english translation is mine. My research on the topic
is ongoing. Typical malevolent powers in the texts are fairies (самодиви – samodivi), de-
mons and saints which reflects the amalgam of pagan and Christian tradition similarly to
Sumero-Akkadian cultural layers in Babylonian medicine.
The Potion in the 1st Millennium Assyro-Babylonian Medicine 425
3.1 Emetics
One of the desired effects of a healing potion was to encourage cleansing through
vomiting. There are different Akkadian verbs for this action (arû, parû, mâ’u),
depending probably on whether the person vomits blood or bile, etc.32 List of
plants mentions šammī arê – “herbs for vomiting” in BAM 579 i 38. Vomiting
could be both a symptom and a therapy. In both cases, the properties of the sub-
stance are used for the diagnosis.33 When used as therapy vomiting could be in-
duced with a feather (BAM 575 iii 30–36 uses parû).
The number of the potion ingredients varies greatly.34 BAM 575 i 44 contains
simplicia prescriptions:
“Alternatively, he drinks white juniper seeds in beer, and then he will vomit
(arû). He drinks root of male pillû-mandrake in beer, and then he will
vomit.”35
Simplicia for vomiting were in many cases supposedly cheaper and probably more
popular. Recipes with more than one ingredient however are also well known
from the texts. Ingredients could be prepared separately (aḫennâ) or together
(mitḫāriš) – see BAM 575 ii 38–40:
“You pound separately (aḫennâ) imḫur-līm-plant, imḫur-ešrā-plant (and)
root of pillû-mandrake, you have him drink them in beer so he will vomit
and, after this, you have him drink pressed oil and beer.”36
A potion is often only a part of a complex therapy. In the last example (prescrip-
tion BAM 575 ii 38–ii 42) it is accompanied by washing and a paste with a band-
age.
Sometimes vomiting is induced with a feather (ina Á) – see BAM 575 iii 30–
36 – a recipe against variety of symptoms including flatulence, chest pain and
fever. The prescribed in the text potion therapy is executed in several stages. First,
nine herbs are pounded and soaked in wine and beer for the night. Then the mix-
ture is boiled, filtered and cooled. And finally, two other ingredients are added,
errû-colocynth shoot and anzaḫḫu-frit. The potion is drunk before sunrise. After
that a vomiting is induced. The remark in the end of the recipe (iii 36) that the
mixture could be used as an enema “if you have not seen any improvement” prob-
32
Scurlock / Andersen, 2005: 122f. In recipes in Stomach the most often used verb is âru.
See CAD a: 316, CAD p: 208, CAD m: 437.
33
See Schmidtchen, 2021: 669 (arû), 684 (parû).
34
Lists of medical ingredients against internal diseases could be found in the so called
Botanical Vademecum BAM 1. See Attia / Buisson, 2012; Geller, 2020.
35
ana KI MIN šimŠE.LI BABBAR ina KAŠ ⸢NAG⸣-ma ⸢i⸣-ar2-ru3 SUḪUŠ gišNAM.TAR
NITA2 ina KAŠ NAG-ma i-ar2-ru.
36 u2
IGI-lim u2IGI.NIŠ SUḪUŠ giš⸢NAM⸣.[TAR] ⸢a⸣-ḫe-nu-u2 SUD2 ina KAŠ NAG-šu2 i-
par-ru-ma EGIR an-ne2-e I3 ḫal-ṣa u KAŠ NAG-šu2.
426 Kiril Mladenov
ably shows that the manner in which the medicine enters the body is not im-
portant.37 As far as I know this is the only occurrence of the expression šum4-ma
DU10. GA NU IGI-mur in Stomach. The typical prognosis is rather “he will im-
prove” (ina-eš) or “he will recover” (TI-uṭ).
3.2 Laxatives
Potions are evidently also used as laxatives. Bowel movement (ešēru) is some-
times achieved through complex therapy. BAM 575 ii 60–62 includes potion, en-
ema and a bandage. Healing potion could sometimes be accompanied with a pre-
scription for a diet, like eating warm or fatty foods (BAM 575 i 54).
In the Neo-Assyrian court letter SAA 10 217 the physician narrates that a royal
baby vomited bile, and this was not favorable. But after purging the baby from his
mouth and his anus and after sweating for two days it recovered.38 The expression
for cleansing is attested in Stomach (BAM 574 i 30):
“He will void from his mouth and from his anus, you rub him down (serû);
then he will recover”.39
The verb SI.SA2 (ešēru) refers to cleansing from anus and sometimes also through
mouth.40 In some prescriptions like BAM 579 iv 11 it is clearly connected to en-
emas.
3.3 Antiflatulents
A distended belly or “insides” seems to point to excessive intestinal gas in the
body. It is caused by “wind” (šāru), resulting in bloating.41 A potion which act
together with an enema is prescribed in BAM 575 ii 20–21:
“If a man’s “insides” (qerbūšu) are swollen (napāḫu) (and) continually
have cramps, flatulence (lit. wind) circulates (and) rumbles in his belly.
You pound šūmū-garlic (and) black cumin, (and) he continually drinks
them in beer.”42
37
Similarly, in BAM 574 i 23 – a recipe against gastric constriction and swollen internal
organs after it is used for a drinking potion, the same liquid but boiled and filtered is used
for a cleansing enema.
38
SAA 10 217 r.3–5.
39
ina KA-šu2 u DUR2-šu2 SI.SA2 tu-ser-šu2-ma TI-uṭ.
The prescription is against kis libbi and vomiting. The instruction tuseršūma as far as I
know is not found in other tablets of Stomach in reference to “voiding from the anus.” See
BAM 575 i 13 –– a prescription against sick belly (ina DUR2-⸢šu2⸣ SI.SA2-ma TI).
40
See Cadelli, 2000: 352f.
41
See Steinert with Panayotov / Geller / Schmidtchen / Johnson, 2018: 238.
42
DIŠ NA ŠA3.MEŠ-šu2 MU2.MU2 it-te-ne2-bi-ṭu IM ina ŠA3-šu2 NIGIN-ur i-le-bu
u2
SUMsar u2zi-ba-a SUD2 ina KAŠ NAG.MEŠ.
The Potion in the 1st Millennium Assyro-Babylonian Medicine 427
4. Conclusion
In Stomach treatise of the NME the potion is used predominantly as an emetic,
laxative and antiflatulent, and mostly prescribed to be drunk on an empty stomach.
Some prescriptions suggest that it also could have cooling features against internal
heat. It is important to note that the potion therapy was often only a part of a more
complex treatment, including washes, bandages and other cures.
The healing potion is prepared through different techniques, described with a
variety of specific Akkadian verbs (bašālu, kaṣû, labāku, ramāku, rasānu, salāqu,
sekēru, šaḫālu). Plenty of solvents could be used. Problems with identification of
the ingredients often hinder us from understanding more about the logic of their
choice or guess the chemical properties of the potion. In some recipes measure-
ments are used for describing the medical ingredients and sometimes the solvent
itself. Clues about testing (latku) ingredients and medicines demonstrate the em-
pirical dimensions of a potion in Mesopotamian healing.
Bibliography
Attia, A. / Buisson, G., 2012: “BAM 1 et Consorts En Transcription”. In Le jour-
nal des medecines cuneiformes 19, 22–51.
Bácskay, A., 2009: “Magical elements of mesopotamian medical texts”. In Acta
Antiqua Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae 49(3), 269–280.
Böck, B., 2014: The healing goddess Gula: towards an understanding of ancient
Babylonian medicine. Brill.
Cadelli, D., 2000: Recherches Sur La Médecine Mésopotamienne. La Série Šum-
ma Amêlu Suâlam Maruṣ. Paris.
Collins, T., 1999: Natural Illness in Babylonian Medical Incantations. Disserta-
tion.
Geller, M., 2020: “An Apothecary’s Handbook”. In Le journal des medecines cu-
neiformes 35, 1–33.
–– 2010: Ancient Babylonian Medicine: Theory and Practice (Ancient cultures).
Wiley-Blackwell.
–– 2007: “ Incantations within Akkadian medical texts“. In G. Leick (ed.): The
Babylonian World. Routledge, 389–399.
Goltz, D., 1974: Studien Zur Altorientalischen Und Griechischen Heilkunde: The-
rapie, Arzneibereitung. Rezeptstruktur (Sudhoffs Archiv Heft 16). Wiesbaden.
Steiner.
Nutton, V., 2012: Ancient Medicine. 2nd ed (Sciences of antiquity). Routledge.
428 Kiril Mladenov
1. Introduction1
This study will discuss the use of eggs in Mesopotamian medicine and beyond.
The first part deals with the attestations of eggs in Mesopotamia medicinal texts:
where are they used for, what kind of eggs occur in the source material, etc. The
second part will focus on eggs in classical and even medieval and modern medi-
cine and investigate whether eggs were used and, if so, whether they were em-
ployed for the same reasons as in Mesopotamia.
The Sumerogram for “egg” is NUNUZ (Fig. 1), which already appears in the
very beginning of writing, i.e. in the archaic administrative and lexical texts from
Uruk.2 From then on, the sign NUNUZ was continually in use until the latest phase
of cuneiform writing.3 The latest attestations of NUNUZ appear in texts dated to
the Hellenistic period.4
Fig. 1: The sign NUNUZ, from left to right: archaic forms, Ur III forms, Middle Babylonian
forms and Neo-Assyrian/Neo-Babylonian forms (Labat / Malbran-Labat, 1994: 180).
The first and most widespread meaning of NUNUZ is ‘egg’, its Akkadian equiv-
alent being pelû (rarely palû). The Mesopotamian lexical material, dating from
the Early Dynastic to the Hellenistic period, nicely corroborates the equation of
1
Abbreviations are cited from the lists in the Chicago Assyrian Dictionary and in the Cu-
neiform Digital Library Initiative (CDLI; http://cdli.ucla.edu).
2
Deimel, 1922: 39 no. 364, 69 no. 798 and 70 no. 813; Green / Nissen, 1987: 261 no. 423.
3
Deimel, 1932: 761–763 no. 394; Deimel / Gössmann, 1947: 695 no. 701; Salonen, 1973:
334; Labat / Malbran-Labat, 1994: 180–181 no. 394; Borger, 2004: 167 no. 614.
4
A copy of the lexical composition ḪAR-ra = ḫubullu Tablet XVI (TCL 6 36 obv. i 49,
rev. i 42) and SpTU 3 112, another lexical text.
430 Jan Tavernier
Expectedly, eggs occur also in monolingual lexical lists,8 e.g. NUNUZ ANZUD
‘eagle egg’ (OB Nippur Ura 04:411), NUNUZ BÀN-BÀN-UZmušen ‘domestic duck
egg’ (JNES 64 57:11’, an Alalakh fragment of a Middle Babylonian forerunner to
the 18th tablet of Ur5-ra),9 ⸢NUNUZ⸣ TI-GI-LÁmušen ‘egg of the tigila-bird’10 (CT 06,
Pl. 14 iii 6).
5
Salonen, 1973: 333–335; AHw 564, 853–854; CAD, P: 320; CDA 272.
6
Mesopotamian texts regularly mention recipients made from ostrich eggs. Some exem-
plars have even been unearthed.
7
Attested in a Middle Babylonian version from the Hittite capital Hattusa, hence the use
of the sign BI for pé.
8
The examples are drawn from the Electronic Pennsylvania Sumerian Dictionary, 2nd edi-
tion (ePSD2: http://oracc.museum.upenn.edu/epsd2/sux) and the Digital Corpus of Cunei-
form Lexical Texts (http://oracc.museum.upenn.edu/dcclt/intro/lexical_intro.html). Both
sites, consulted on 05/06/2020, contain more examples.
9
Lauinger, 2005: 54.
10
On this bird, see Salonen, 1973: 270.
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 431
Fig. 2: Ostrich egg as recipient from Ur, dated to about 2550 BCE (https://commons.
wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ostrich_shell_with_mosaic_incrustation,_Ur_excavations_
(1900).jpg).
11
CBS 14221 (Civil, 1960; Kramer, 1963: 93–98), HS 1357 (Civil, 1961: 94; van Dijk /
Geller, 2003: 75) and HS 1359 (Civil, 1961; Kramer, 1963: 98–99; van Dijk / Geller, 2003:
76). Nonetheless, Scurlock talks of “largely unpublished therapeutic texts from the Ur III
(2112–2004 BCE) and Isin–Larsa (2017–1763 BCE) periods” (Scurlock, 2005: 325). The
oldest medical text whatsoever comes from Ebla and dates to about 2400 BCE (Fronzaroli,
1998).
432 Jan Tavernier
12
Finet, 1982: 75.
13
Durand (apud Lafont, 1985: 28).
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 433
2.2 Akkadian
2.2.1 Bird eggs
Bird eggs are frequently attested in the Akkadian textual corpus, but only ostrich
eggs occur in both medical and non-medical texts. Non-medical attestations are:
1) 2 pe-li-i ša lu-ur-[m]i-im i-m[u]-ru-nim a-nu-um-ma pe-li-i šu-nu-ti a-
na be-lí-ia uš-ta-bi-lam “They found two ostrich eggs, I have now sent
those eggs to my lord” (ARMT 14 86:28–29; Old Babylonian Mari).
2) 4 pe-li-i ša lu-ur-mi-im i-na ba-ma-tim il-qú-nim-ma a-na be-l[í-ia] uš-
ta-bi-[lam] “They gathered four ostrich eggs in the plains and I have
sent them to my lord” (ARMT 27 9:31–34; Old Babylonian Mari).
3) 1 pè-el lu-ur-mi ta-al-mu ‘one large ostrich egg’ (HSS 14 247:106;
palace inventory from Nuzi, c. 1400 BC).
4) As (royal) offerings14
a) Ù pé-li lu-ur-mi-immušen ‘and 7 ostrich eggs’ (Florilegium Marianum
3 229 no. 60:3; Old Babylonian Mari).
b) 8 NUNUZ lu-ur-mu ‘8 ostrich eggs,’ next to duck eggs (TCL 12
123:5,8,26,32; Neo-Babylonian list of royal offerings to Ištar in the
Eanna temple).15
c) 3 NUNUZ GA.NU11mušen ‘3 ostrich eggs,’ next to duck eggs (RAcc 64
rev. 17, 65 rev. 28;16 Seleucid; offerings in the temple of Anu at
Uruk).
14
Unspecified egg offerings occur in inscriptions of Nebuchadnezzar II and in YBC 5159.
One time, however, duck eggs are mentioned (cf. Beaulieu, 1991).
15
Cf. Finet, 1982: 74 and Beaulieu, 2003: 28 and n. 46.
16
Cf. Thureau-Dangin, 1921: 78–79, 84–85.
434 Jan Tavernier
As proven by the two examples from Mari, the community of this city considered
ostrich eggs as valuable objects. When people found such eggs, they collected
them and sent them to their superiors. This is not all too surprising, since the os-
trich was not frequently spotted in the region around Mari. Accordingly, finding
ostrich eggs must doubtlessly have been a delightful occasion.17 Note also the use
of ostrich eggs for vases and the trade in (decorated) ostrich eggs.18 The high value
of ostrich eggs is also clear by their occurrence in royal offerings, regularly ac-
companied by duck eggs (especially in the 1st millennium BCE).
Akkadian physicians and pharmacists extensively made use of eggs as ingre-
dient of medicinal drugs they made. Examples are:
1) Unspecified bird eggs (pelî iṣṣūri): DIŠ KI.MIN NUNUZ Ú.KI.SÌ.GA.MUŠEN
ša ina KI tab-ku “Ditto: an egg from a nest fallen on the ground [you
shall daub thereon]” (AMT 17,5:2).19 Against moles or warts (umṣatu).
2) Raven eggs20 (pelî erēbi): NUNUZ UG[Amušen SÚD …] “You grind the egg
of a raven” (BAM 515 ii 7 = IGI 2:79’; broken context; from Nine-
veh).21 The grinded egg must be removed before smearing ghee on a
bronze knife; later on, the patient’s eye must be daubed with it. This
fragmentary prescription appears in a text concerning eye diseases.22
The affliction here is “closed eyes” (DIŠ NA IGI.MIN-šú DUL-ma “If a
man’s eyes are closed”). According to Attia,23 two interpretations of the
impossibility to open the eyes are possible: either the eyelids are so
swollen or thickened that the eyes remain closed, or the pain is so heavy
that it causes a blepharospasm. In both cases, the underlying affliction
may very well be an ocular inflammation.
3) Eggs of the summatu-dove (pelî summati; Fig. 5): NUNUZ TUmušen SÚD
síg
ÀKA NIGIN ana ŠÀ.TÙR-šá GAR-an MIN “You grind summatu-dove egg
(and) wrap (it) in a tuft of wool. (If) you insert (it) into her vagina, ditto”
(BAM 237 i 34’); used for a vaginal suppository against irregular bleed-
ing.24 In all likelihood, the egg part used is the shell as it has to be
grinded. Albumen and yolk may of course also have been included.
4) Eggs of the sukannīnu-turtledove (pelî sukannīni; Fig. 5): NUNUZ TU.
KUR4mušen SÚD sígÀKA NIGIN ana ŠÀ.TÙR-šá GAR-an MIN “You grind
17
Duponchel, 1997: 233.
18
Herles, 2013: 213; Stol, 2013: 212.
19
Cf. Thompson, 1926: 51 no. 52.
20
This is, to my knowledge, the only attestation of raven eggs in an Akkadian text.
21
This text is part of the 2nd tablet of the series Šumma amīlu īnāšu marṣā (DIŠ NA IGI.MIN-
šú GIGmeš) “When a man’s eyes are ill” (Köcher, 1980: xii; Geller / Panayotov, 2020: 108).
22
Attia, 2015: 41; Geller / Panayotov, 2020: 113 and 129.
23
Attia, 2015: 26.
24
Scurlock, 2014: 574, 579.
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 435
sukanninu-turtledove egg (and) wrap (it) in a tuft of wool. (If) you insert
(it) into her vagina, ditto” (BAM 237 i 35’); used for a vaginal sup-
pository against irregular bleeding.25 In all likelihood, the egg part used
is the shell as it has to be grinded. Albumen and yolk may of course
also have been included.
5) Ostrich eggs (pelî lurmi):
a) NUMUN gišbi-ni úkám-ka-da úNÍG.GÁN.GÁN úNÍG.GIDRU ŠIKA N[UNUZ
GA.NU11m]ušen 1-niš SÚD ina Ì ḪE.ḪE SAG.DU-su ŠÉŠ-aš “You grind
together bīnu-tamarisk seed, kamkadu, egemgīru, ḫaṭṭi (reʾi and)
shell of ostrich egg” (BAM 3 ii 16–17 = BAM 480 iii 24–25).26 This
treatment is helpful “If a person’s head is feverish and the hair of his
head falls out”.27
b) NUN[UZ G]A.NU11[mušen] SÚD SÍG ÀKA NIGIN “You grind an ostrich egg
(and) wrap (it) in a tuft of wool” (BAM 237 iv 23).28 To be used
when a woman is sick with crabs (Fig. 6).29
c) DIŠ NUNUZ GÁ.NU11mušen SÚD ina KAŠ NAG-ma ina-eš “Alternatively,
you grind shell of ostrich egg. If you have him drink (it mixed) with
beer, he will recover” (BAM 578 iv 20).30 This prescription should
help if one’s eyes are full of amurriqānu, the result of a liver disease
(jaundice).31
d) ŠIKA NUNUZ GA.NU11m[ušen] “Shell of an ostrich egg”: in a prescrip-
tion for someone who “produces a stone from his penis” (BAM 7 1
ii 7’, iii 23).
e) ŠIKA NUNUZ GÁ.NU11 in lists of ingredients against ‘stricture of the
bladder’ (BAM 7 2 i 6). The 16 ingredients mentioned in this pre-
scription should be pounded and put in a reed hut at night. In the
morning, before he gets out of bed, the patient must drink the potion
in order to get well.
25
Scurlock, 2014: 574. 579.
26
Cf. Worthington, 2005: 12; 2006: 21.
27
Cf. Scurlock, 2014: 314, 325.
28
Cf. Scurlock, 2014: 576, 581.
29
Scurlock / Anderson, 2005: 20 no. 2.25; Scurlock, 2014: 576, 581. Crabs (Phthirus pu-
bis) are a type of body parasites, just like lice and fleas, that predominantly live in pubic
hair. They are called crabs, because they look like tiny crabs; it is therefore interesting that
ancient Mesopotamian physicians also used the term crabs (Akk. alluttu) for the phthirus
pubis. Crabs can affect the human skin and can as such permit bacteria and fungi to pene-
trate the body and cause serious afflictions and diseases, such as plague and typhus (Scur-
lock / Anderson, 2005: 20).
30
Cf. Scurlock, 2014: 516, 526.
31
Scurlock / Anderson, 2005: 191.
436 Jan Tavernier
32
At first sight, a ‘head bandage’ seems far away from a stricture, although it may have
been thought useful anyhow. It is also possible that it is a recipe borrowed from a recipe
originally designed for another ailment, since every ailment has side-effects as well, which
are not necessarily noted in our texts (Mark Geller, pers. comm., 09/05/2022).
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 437
33
Cf. Thompson, 1936–1937: 338.
34
Cf. Thompson, 1936–1937: 337–338. Geller (2005: 112–113) has (9’) [… n]a4AN.ZAḪ.
GE6 ŠIKA NUNUZ GA.NU11mušen ŠIM.LI DIŠ-niš [SÚD …] (10’) […] GEŠTIN.ŠUR.RA NAG-ma
[ina-eš] “[Crush …] black frit, ostrich-egg shell, and juniper, […], he drinks it in drawn
wine and [he will get better]”.
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 439
The following tables recapitulate the above said, with the implication that eggs
were never used autonomously in medicine, but always as one of the ingredients
of a certain drug. The tables are arranged according to the textual attestations.
35
See Böck, 2008: 330–331 for another reading of this line.
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 441
The tables make clear that the large majority of eggs used in Babylonian medicine
are ostrich eggs. Only four texts mention eggs from other birds: two types of doves
(summatu and sukannīnu) and raven are specifically mentioned, whereas one text
just mentions bird eggs. The afflictions are diverse too: moles/warts (unspecified),
irregular vaginal bleeding (dove eggs) and “closed eyes” (raven eggs).
Of ostrich eggs (30 attestations) only the shell is used, which is mostly crushed
together with other ingredients and then drunk by the patient. In some cases the
potion must be put at night before the Goat-star (= Lyra) and then drunk in the
morning. The means to administer the drug are usually beer or wine, but also milk,
pomegranate juice and fish brine. Three times, the prescriptions also advise to
have a part of the potion blown into the urethra through a bronze tube, while the
other part had to be drunk.
Remarkably, the shell of ostrich egg also occurs nearly exclusively in prescrip-
tions against renal afflictions, of which discharge, stricture and kidney stones may
be symptoms. In this context, it is interesting that the ingredient never appears in
prescriptions against rectal ailments. Dove eggs, on the other hand, could be used
as suppositories (in a tuft of wool) against irregular vaginal bleeding. The two
other afflictions are unique as to the use of ostrich egg shell: jaundice in the eyes36
and a feverish head, combined with loss of hair. Yet, these are probably symptoms
of an underlying disease or affection.
The affliction called “stricture of the bladder” (Akk. ḫiniqti nappaḫti) is prob-
ably a stricture in the male urethra. This stricture can be caused by trauma or can
be secondary to an acute gonorrhoeal urethritis.37
36
According to Geller / Panayotov, eggs, more particularly the raven egg, are only once
attested in prescriptions against eye diseases and ostrich-egg shells are even completely
absent in this context (Geller / Panayotov, 2020: 32).
37
Adamson, 1979: 5; Geller, 2005: 43 n. 1.
442 Jan Tavernier
SA5; kulbābi sāmi) appear in BAM 237 iv 35, a prescription against irregular vag-
inal bleeding. The eggs are one of the ingredients of a cure. The patient should
drink the potion on an empty stomach mixed in beer, which should make the
bleeding stop.38
Second, the fragment AMT 32,2:23 mentions [NU]NUZ BURU5 ÍD-DA ‘eggs of
the river-locust’, a hitherto undefined water insect (erib nāri), used in a cure for
some foot disease. The fragment has been joined to other fragments, resulting in
the following translation: “If ditto, kamkadu-plant, sumac, tamarisk, daisy,
lidruša-plant, *Conium maculatum, eggs of the river locust, you will dry, pound,
mix in fine-ground flour, mash in a small copper pan with ghee and beer, spread
it on a cloth and bind it on”.39
38
Interestingly, Plinius (Nat. Hist., 29.39) and Marcellus Empiricus (De Med., 9.120) men-
tion ant eggs (ova formicarum). They are believed to be broken and dropped in the ear as
a cure for some ear/hearing affliction.
39
Translation based on Thompson, 1937: 280–281.
40
As to the works of Hippocrates, the following editions have been consulted: Potter, 1988
(Peri diaites oxeôn (notha), Peri nousôn, Peri tôn entos pathôn); Potter, 1995 (Peri su-
riggôn); Potter, 2012 (Peri gunaikeies phusios); Potter, 2018 (Peri gunaikeiôn A, Peri
gunaikeiôn B). Cf. also Dierbach, 1824: 8.
41
The work of Celsus (De Medicina) has been edited and translated by Spencer, 1948–
1953.
42
The work of Scribonius Largus (Compositiones Medicales) has been consulted through
the edition by Jouanna-Bouchet, 2016.
43
The edition used to cite the work of Pliny the Elder (Naturalis Historia) is that of Jones,
1963.
44
With regard to the work of Dioscorides (De Materia Medica), the editions/translations
of Osbaldeston / Wood, 2000 and Beck, 2017 have been consulted. Dioscorides composed
his De Materia Medica around 64–65 CE (Riddle, 1985: xiii and 13–14; Osbaldeston /
Wood, 2000: XX; cf. also Berendes, 1902: 2; Beck, 2017: XV).
45
As to the fragments of Rufus of Ephesus, these were edited by Daremberg / Ruelle,
1909.
46
The edition and translation of Johnston / Horsley, 2011a and 2011b have been used with
regard to the work of Galenus (Therapeutikes Methodou).
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 443
47
As to this author, who wrote Liber Medicinalis, the editions and translations by Pépin,
1950 and Brodersen, 2017 have been used.
48
As to this author, who wrote Rerum Medicarum, the translation by Meyer, 1909 has
been used.
49
As to this author, the editions and translations by Bussemaker / Daremberg, 1854; 1858;
1862; 1873 have been used. The works relevant for this study are Collectiones Medicae,
Euporistes and Synopsis ad Eustathium.
50
For this author, who wrote De Medicamentis, the edition by Helmreich, 1889 has been
consulted.
51
As to this author, who wrote De Medicina, the translation by Fraisse, 2002 has been
used.
52
As to this author, who wrote Libri Medicinales, the edition and translation by Oliveiri,
1935 and 1950 have been used. The seventh book has also been edited and translated by
Hirschberg, 1899.
53
For this author, who wrote Practica and Peri puretôn, the edition by Puschmann, 1878
and 1879 have been consulted.
54
As to his author, who wrote Epitome Medica, the edition by Heiberg, 1924 and transla-
tion by Berendes, 1914 have been used.
55
See Puschmann, 1879: 372–373.
56
See Puschmann, 1879: 420–421.
57
See Puschmann, 1879: 250–251.
444 Jan Tavernier
58
See Puschmann, 1879: 424–425.
59
See Puschmann, 1879: 366–367.
60
Cf. Leven, 2005: 242.
61
See Puschmann, 1879: 372–373.
62
See Puschmann, 1879: 472–473.
63
See Daremberg / Ruelle, 1879: 423.
64
See Puschmann, 1879: 484–485.
65
See Puschmann, 1879: 490–491.
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 445
66
Cf. Daremberg / Ruelle, 1879: 414.
67
See Puschmann, 1879: 10–11, 32–33, 34–35, 64–65.
446 Jan Tavernier
68
See Puschmann, 1879: 6–7.
69
Cf. Penso, 1984: 441.
70
See Puschmann, 1879: 192–193.
71
See Puschmann, 1879: 100–101.
72
See Puschmann, 1879: 116–117, 118–119.
73
See Puschmann, 1879: 114–115.
74
See Puschmann, 1878: 482–483.
75
See Puschmann, 1879: 532–533, 558–559.
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 447
9) Burn wounds
a) Raw eggs: Oribasius, Synopsis, 7.6; Paulus Aegineta, Ep., 7.3, s.v.
Ὠιοῦ.
b) Boiled eggs: Pliny, Nat. Hist., 29.11.
c) Albumen: Quintus Serenus, Liber Medicinalis, 59.1047.
10) Ergotism
a) Eggs in general: Quintus Serenus, Lib. Med., 40.761.
b) Albumen: Quintus Serenus, Lib. Med., 40.764.
c) Raw swan egg: Quintus Serenus, Lib. Med., 40.757.
11) Skin and hair problems (lice, hair loss, moles, chapped lips, etc.)
a) Eggs in general: Marcellus Empiricus, De Med., 4.19; Alexander
of Tralles, Pr., 1.2.76
b) Inner membrane of the egg: Pliny, Nat. Hist., 29.11; Oribasius,
Synopsis, 8.34.
c) Yolks: Aetius Amidenus, Lib. Med., 8.12.
12) Problems with the humours
a) Albumen: Galen, Ther., 12.6.
b) Yolks: Oribasius, Synopsi, 6.27.
13) Problems with swellings (including elephantiasis)
a) Eggs in general: Quintus Serenus, Lib. Med., 39.750; Oribasius,
Coll. Med., 45.29.45, 45.29.52.
b) Boiled yolks: Marcellus Empiricus, De Med., 18.15.
14) Bites of haimorrhois77
a) Raw albumen: Dioscorides, De Mat. Med., 2.50.
b) Raw yolks: Pliny, Nat. Hist., 29.11.
15) Bruises
a) Eggs in general: Pliny, Nat. Hist., 29.11.
b) Raw yolks: Marcellus Empiricus, De Med., 19.15.
16) Coriander poisoning
a) Goose eggs: Scribonius Largus, Comp. Med., 185.1.
17) Fever
a) Eggs in general: Hippocrates, Peri Nousôn, 17.L; Alexander of
Tralles, Peri puretôn, 2).78
18) General decay of the body
a) Raw eggs: Marcellus Empiricus, De Med., 16.89.
19) Nose afflictions
a) (Raw) albumen: Dioscorides, De Mat. Med., 2.50; Oribasius, Eup.,
4.46.
76
See Puschmann, 1878: 448–449.
77
A snake whose bite causes blood to flow from all parts of the body.
78
See Puschmann, 1878: 324–325.
448 Jan Tavernier
Eggs were not always considered as a good ingredient for drugs. In the 9th book
of his Practica, Alexander of Tralles states that eggs should be forbidden for peo-
ple suffering from liver inflammation (Practica, 9.1).80
It may also be mentioned that eggs were used in cosmetic treatments: to make
the face radiant, Greeks and Romans used albumen (Hippocrates, Peri gunaikeiôn
B, 79; Oribasius, Eup., 4.54) and cuttlefish eggs were used to get rid of dyes or
skin of the body (Marcellus Empiricus, De Med., 19.36).
Summarizing, eggs were much more present in Greek and Roman medicine
than in Mesopotamian medicine. In addition, the larger part of eggs used by Greek
and Roman physicians are from chickens. Only if indicated otherwise, the eggs
mentioned in the classical medical texts are chicken eggs. This is in contrast to
Mesopotamia, where eggs of various birds are attested, but not chicken eggs. The
main reason for this is probably the fact that the chicken was introduced rather
late in Mesopotamia,81 so chicken eggs were hardly available.
Beside chicken eggs we have goose eggs and partridge eggs. Two non-avian
animals whose eggs were used, albeit rarely, in classical medicine are the cuttle-
fish and the ant (as in Mesopotamia).
As to the afflictions treated with drugs containing eggs, one can see that prin-
cipally renal and rectal afflictions, afflictions of the gastro-enteron and eye prob-
lems occur. This is a nice parallel to Mesopotamian medicine, where similar dis-
eases were treated using eggs. Most likely, principles of Mesopotamian medicine
and pharmacology have been transmitted to Greece through the Achaemenid Em-
pire and the Greek physicians working there, this in addition to the classical phy-
sicians’ own discoveries.
79
Cf. Leven, 2005: 242.
80
Cf. Puschmann, 1879: 382–383.
81
Ehrenberg, 2002; Minnuno, 2014–2016: 584; von den Driesch 2014–2016: 587.
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 449
82
Kessel, 2019: 438.
83
Pers. comm. M. Geller, 24/05/2022.
84
An example of this practice is a prescription against heart disease, which has to be pre-
pared and put aside all night “under the stars”.
85
Kessel, 2019: 441–443.
86
Cf. Kessel, 2019: 446.
87
Examples can be found in folios 178b (Wallis Budge, 1913: 431; for liver diseases) and
272b (Wallis Budge, 1913: 685; for pain in the loins).
88
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 675.
89
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 489.
90
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 331.
91
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 677.
92
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 488.
93
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 484.
94
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 490.
95
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 491 and 492.
96
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 510.
97
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 680.
450 Jan Tavernier
3) Respiratory/throat afflictions
a) Eggs in general: folio 118b,98 266b.99
b) Boiled eggs: folio 87b,100 115b.101
c) Albumen: folio 119a.102
4) Eye afflictions
a) Shells: folio 264a.103
b) Albumen: folio 39b,104 40a,105 45b,106 563a,107 263b,108 264a.109
c) Raven eggs: folio 264a.110
5) Bleedings/wounds
a) Albumen: folio 208a,111 261b,112 278a.113
b) Yolks: folio 208b.114
6) Ear/hearing afflictions
a) Albumen: folio 50a.115
7) Headache
a) Albumen: folio 28a,116 30a,117 261b.118
b) Yolks: folio 30a.119
8) Skin and hair problems (too much hair, hair loss)
a) Yolks of pelican eggs: folio 280b.120
98
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 277.
99
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 670.
100
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 199.
101
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 267.
102
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 279.
103
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 663.
104
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 85.
105
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 87.
106
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 103.
107
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 660.
108
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 661.
109
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 663.
110
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 663. Note that the only Mesopotamian attestation of eggs used
for an eye disease (‘closed eyes’) was also treated with raven eggs.
111
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 513.
112
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 656.
113
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 698.
114
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 514.
115
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 113.
116
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 60.
117
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 64.
118
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 657.
119
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 65.
120
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 704.
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 451
121
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 691.
122
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 669.
123
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 683.
124
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 686.
125
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 684.
126
Cf. Wallis Budge, 1913: 672.
127
Everett, 2012: 3.
128
Everett, 2012: 64–82; Scarborough, 2014: 195.
129
Everett, 2012: 86.
452 Jan Tavernier
In another paragraph (86) it is told that stag horn, when drunk with an egg, “drives
out intestinal parasites”.130 Again, the diseases mentioned are in parallel to Mes-
opotamian and classical medicine: eye problems and renal and rectal afflictions.
Furthermore, egg yolks appear often in medieval English/Irish medicinal texts
from the 15th century. They are a part of poultices against various afflictions, such
as biles, a rectal affliction, and canker sores, a kind of mouth ulcers.131 According
to Britton / Fletcher,132 these yolks were “probably used as binding agents to make
the several ingredients of the poultice cohere”. If this is true, the use of eggs in
the Middle Ages differs from that in Mesopotamia and Classical Antiquity.
An interesting example is one of the so-called Smarmore slates, a group of
inscribed slates from Smarmore, near Ardee in Ireland. In one of the texts (slate
8a; Fig. 7) egg yolks appear as part of a poultice applied to an ulcer or wound:
‘yolkis of eggis’. In all likelihood, the slate is a school exercise.133
4. Modernity
Riddle134 informs us that eggs are not mentioned anymore in modern pharmaceu-
tical guides, among which the 1955 edition of the Dispensatory of the United
States.135 Although this statement is correct, it must be slightly nuanced: in former
editions of the Dispensatory of the United States, eggs still appear as being applied
to various purposes, with that condition that they had to mixed with other ingre-
dients. In the 1854 edition136 and still in the 1894 edition,137 egg yolks are still
used against jaundice and indigestion, whereas they also appear as ingredients or
binding agent in treatments of diarrhoea, dysentery, coughing and anginose affec-
tions, whereas albumen was ideal in the clarification of liquids and as ingredient
against (copper) poisoning. The use of eggs as remedy against jaundice has dis-
appeared in the 1899 edition138 and by 1907 the medicinal use of eggs was limited
to their function as binding agent.139 Nevertheless the albumen remains useful as
antidote.
Although eggs seem to have disappeared as ingredient for drugs in modern
Western medicine, they are still used in traditional southern African medicine. In
Tanzania, physicians use ostrich eggs against asthma and earaches,140 whereas in
130
Everett, 2012: 211.
131
Henslow, 1899: 30, P.175 and 34, P.177.
132
Britton / Fletcher, 1990: 64.
133
Cf. Bliss, 1965–1966: 45–47 and Britton / Fletcher, 1990: 58–68.
134
Riddle, 2013: 66–67.
135
Osol / Farrar, 1955.
136
Wood / Bache, 1854: 80–81, 206, 304, 498, 548–549, 1029.
137
Wood / Remington / Sadtler, 1894: 659 and 1006.
138
Wood / Remington / Sadtler, 1899: 147, 471, 692, 1643.
139
Wood / Remington / Sadtler, 1907: 1476.
140
See Magige / Røskaft, 2017.
The Use of Eggs in Mesopotamian Medicine and beyond 453
South African traditional medicine, crushed ostrich egg shells are believed to
stimulate birth labour.141
Even most recently, modern researchers turn their attention again to eggs as
medicinally useful in the battle against deadly hospital infections,142 other infec-
tious diseases such as cholera and dengue,143 and even cancer144 or COVID-19.145
Some of the researchers use ostrich eggs, but not because of the specific antibod-
ies that are present in these eggs, but because of the quantity: an ostrich egg con-
tains about as much yolk as 24 chicken eggs and a female ostrich can pound 50 to
100 eggs a year, over a 50-year period. The importance of eggs for medicinal
purposes surely is not just something from the past.
5. Conclusion
This study has focused on the use of eggs in Mesopotamian medicine, including
comparisons with classical, medieval and modern medicine. Mesopotamian phy-
sicians used eggs as ingredients for drugs applied against various affections. Nev-
ertheless, the overwhelming majority attested in the medicinal textual corpus are
ostrich eggs, more specifically the shell of ostrich eggs. They were principally
used in drugs against eye affections, renal and rectal/uterine diseases and gastro-
intestinal problems.
The connection between eggs and these types of diseases is still visibly present
if one has a look at the Greek and Roman medicinal textual corpus.
One important difference between both cultures is that in Classical Antiquity
chicken eggs were the most widely used type of eggs, contrary to Mesopotamia
where the chicken was not really known until late in Mesopotamian history.
The purely medicinal value of eggs diminishes in the Middle Ages, but still
remained vivid enough, even into the late 19th century, where eggs are described
as being used against e.g. diarrhoea, dysentery and jaundice. However, the rela-
tion between eggs and ocular diseases has disappeared. Moreover, in the last dec-
ades, there is a new attention for eggs, as the antibodies they contain could help
against a wide variety of infectious diseases.
141
Van der Kooi / Theobald, 2006: 16–17.
142
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-4288000/Could-ostrich-eggs-key-treating-
deadly-infections.html, 06/03/2017; https://www.news24.com/You/Archive/ostrich-eggs-
to-be-used-in-treatment-for-deadly-hospital-infection-20170728, 11/03/2017.
143
https://www.audubon.org/news/how-biggest-birds-earth-could-help-fend-epidemics,
21/03/2019.
144
https://www.theguardian.com/science/2007/jan/15/medicalresearch.drugs, 15/07/
2007; https://www.cbsnews.com/newyork/news/chickens-drug-filled-eggs-medication/,
28/01/2019.
145
Batiha et al., 2021; https://med.stanford.edu/news/all-news/2022/04/chicken-egg-anti-
body.html, 08/04/2022.
454 Jan Tavernier
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Rites, Music, and Banquets
Some Observations on Rituals in Sumerian Divine Journeys
Klaus Wagensonner*
A recurring theme in Sumerian literature is the divine journey, i.e., the trip of a
deity from her or his hometown to a god in another city, who is often of superior
rank in the pantheon. Examples are the travels of Ninurta and Ninĝirsu to Enki in
Eridu or Nin-Isina’s procession from Isin to Enlil in Nippur. While most compo-
sitions deal with the logistics of the travels only in passing, some texts mention
the rites and festivities in greater detail including processions and banquets. This
paper aims at providing an overview of the evidence for the rites performed at the
various stages of the journey.
1. Introduction
(The goddess) passes by the broad street of her city; her city rejoices with
her (Middle Assyrian: does equal).
Her spouse, the hero Pabilsaĝ, walks in joy with her.
Her beloved child, Damu-saga (and) the righteous woman Gunura,
– (they are) the good protective spirits (Lama-saga; Middle Assyrian:
Alad-saga) of the Egalmah – follow behind her.
Alad-saga (Middle Assyrian: Udug-saga), her father Enlil (Middle
Assyrian: Enlil’s father), walks on her right side.
Udug-saga (Middle Assyrian: Lama-saga) – he is lord Nunamnir – walks
on her left side.
Her emblem, the light of the sky, is prepared before her.
Šumah, the righteous messenger of the Egalmah, walks before her.
He cleans the alleys and the broad street for her; he purifies the city.
(Nin-Isina’s Journey to Nippur, lines 5–13)1
*
I would like to thank the organizers of the 67th Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale,
Turin. Readings in Sumerian literary texts follow Attinger, 2021.
1
Read after the unprovenanced Old Babylonian manuscript Saeedi 212 (edited in Cohen,
2017: 85–101):
5 ⸢sila daĝal⸣ eri-na-ka mi-ni-⸢dib⸣-be2 eri-ne2 mu-un-da-hul2*
462 Klaus Wagensonner
The quoted lines are attested in a short composition of just 49 lines, which is cur-
rently known through two Old Babylonian manuscripts, one from Nippur, the
other unprovenanced, and two texts of Middle Assyrian date from Assur. This
composition, categorized as a ser3-nam-šub of Isin’s patron deity,2 deals with a
journey of Nin-Isina (or Ninkarrak and Gula) to Nippur (Fig. 1).
The stage is set in the sanctuary Egalmah in Isin. The goddess leaves her tem-
ple and participates in a lavish procession, in which she is surrounded by her fam-
ily members, who appear in the roles of different protective spirits, and the inhab-
itants of her city. The journey to Nippur towards the north is undertaken by boat
along the Kirsig canal (line 15).3 Likely accompanied by the king, the boat arrives
in Nippur, where the goddess presents offerings to Enlil. From other texts dis-
cussed below it can be assumed that the king had a central role in gathering these
offerings. Enlil, being happy about the gifts, decrees a (good) fate for the goddess.
Thereafter, Nin-Isina returns to Isin, where she takes up seat on her dais and fes-
tivities bring this successful journey to its close.
This composition shares features with several other Sumerian literary texts that
are generally referred to as Divine Journeys. In style, the extant texts are rather
different and are not restricted to a specific ancient category of text. We have seen
that the journey of Nin-Isina is dealt with in a ser3-nam-šub, an “incantation-
song.”4 The category ser3-gid2-da, a “long song,”5 is known for a journey of Ni-
nurta to Eridu and also the god’s return to Nippur in the composition An-gen7
dim2-ma. Divine journeys or the presence of a deity in a city or place other than
his or her hometown may also be alluded to in other types of texts, such as ir2-
sem5-ma lamentations. An example is an ir2-sem5-ma directed to the moon god.6
Another example of this category of text alludes to Nin-Isina’s presence in Nip-
pur.7
As different as the textual genres, so is also the quality and quantity of the
information provided in the extant Divine Journeys. While in some compositions
the journey of the protagonist lies in the centre of the storyline – examples are
Nanna-Suen’s Journey to Nippur and Enki’s Journey to Nippur –, other compo-
sitions only address the journey in part, sometimes even only briefly hint at a trip
(e.g., Sulgi F and Gudea Cylinders). One of the most explicit treatments of a di-
vine journey is certainly Nanna-Suen’s Journey to Nippur, a composition of more
than 350 lines. The text details the moon god’s intent to visit his parents in Nippur,
the preparation for the construction of a processional boat, the gathering of gifts
and offerings, the journey itself with stops en route, and the events unfolding in
Nippur. While the moon god’s journey is often taken as the prime example for
this group of texts, short allusions to traveling gods are attested frequently. This
is the case, for instance, in the Gudea Cylinders, which refer to a journey of
Ninĝirsu to Eridu:8
4
The text Inana G, which partially details a journey of Inana to Eridu (see Wagensonner,
2010), is categorized as a ser3-nam-šub as well. For this category of song see Shehata,
2009: 270–272.
5
See Shehata, 2009: 274–278.
6
The text is known from three manuscripts, two of Old Babylonian date, the third one
dating to the Hellenistic period.
7
In this ir2-sem5-ma the goddess laments:
25 ga-[ša-an]-i3-si-inki-na-ĝen nu-hul2-la nu-du11-ga-mu-de3
26 aia-zu-ta e2 na-aĝ2 tar-re-da a-gen7 im-da-an-ku4-re-en
27 dmu-ul-lil2-da e2 na-aĝ2 tar-re-da a-gen7 im-da-an-[ku4-re]
28 e2 di-da-ka e2 ka-aš-a-ka a-gen7 im-da-ku4-re
I am Nin-Isina, I will not talk happy words.
Thus I enter to my! (T: your) father, into the house in which fates are being
determined.
Thus I enter to Enlil, into the house in which fates are being determined.
Thus I enter into the house of judgement, into the house of decisions.
See Cohen, 1981: 100. I would like to thank Jonathan Beltz for referring me to this text.
8
See Edzard, 1997: 93.
Rites, Music, and Banquets 465
In this short passage, by far the earliest attestation in a literary context, the
reason of Ninĝirsu’s trip transpires: He visits Enki to have his (and by extension
Gudea’s) reign legitimized. A similar reason is hinted at in another journey of
Ninurta to Eridu. In Ninurta’s Journey to Eridu I, the god travels, among other
things, “to decree abundance as (the land’s) destiny.”10
The reasons for a specific trip transpire in different ways. Frequently the vis-
iting deity seeks to legitimize him- or herself. In Enki’s Journey, for instance, the
god travels to Nippur after having completed his temple in Eridu: “That the pure
house (in) Eridu was built, Enki be praised” (lines 125–126).11 In Enki and the
World Order, the crafty god’s presence in Nippur is hinted at several times: “He
(i.e., Enki) [indeed filled] the Ekur, Enlil’s temple with possessions. Enlil was
delighted with Enki, and Nippur was full of charm” (lines 261–262).12 The rea-
sons for the moon god’s journey are somewhat different. After handing over his
gifts to Enlil, he asks him to bestow upon him abundance in the land. This abun-
dance is expressed by a well-known topos.13
In summary, the features of Divine Journeys are, among others, (1) the indi-
cation of the journey of a deity from one place to another, (2) a mode of transpor-
tation, (3) gifts presented to the visited deity, (4) rituals that accompany various
9
Read after RIME 3/1.1.7.Cyl B:
13 ur-saĝ eriduki-še3 du-a-ne2
14 silim-ma du10 di-da
15 dnin-ĝir2-su eriduki-ta du-ne2
16 eri du3-a ĝešgu-za-be2 ge-na-<da>
10
CBS 13938 (CDLI P268939), col. i,8: [na]m-he2 [n]am-be2 t[ar-r]e-⸢de3⸣. Despite colla-
tions, the subsequent lines are rather fragmentary, but hint at the various aspects of abun-
dance in the land. After line 13 containing the statement that Ninurta travels to Eridu,
another section continues to itemize the purpose of his journey.
11
See Ceccarelli, 2012: 96:
125 eriduki e2 ku3-ga du3-a-ba
126 den-ki za3-mim
12
Read after CBS 4562+ (CDLI P260876):
261 e2-kur-re e2 den-lil2-la2-ke4 niĝ2-ĝal2-la nam-s[i]
262 den-ki-da den-lil2 mu-un-da-hul2 nibruki g[iri17-zal-am3]
Compare also two fragments from Ur that deal with Enki’s role in Nippur; see Ludwig,
2006.
13
See Gabbay / Mirelman / Reid, 2020. This topos may also appear, after collation, in
Ninurta’s Journey to Eridu I, lines 14–22.
466 Klaus Wagensonner
aspects of the journey, and (5) the occasional explicit mention and participation
of the king. This paper does not aim at looking at all these features. It focuses on
the ritual aspects of Divine Journeys and how they are reflected in the extant lit-
erary sources. The paper will limit itself to the Sumerian literary evidence with a
few glimpses into administrative texts as well as later attestations. Occasionally,
letters refer to cultic events such as processions and divine journeys, although it
should be stressed that the scattered information gained from many mundane texts
only permit glimpses. The same holds true regarding iconographical depictions of
deities in boats and on chariots on seals.14
The literary sources only provide little information on time and frequency of trav-
eling. The quoted lines come from an unpublished composition dealing with a
journey of Ninurta to Eridu. According to the text, Ninurta travels at New Moon
(Sumerian u4-sakar). This point in time for the journey can be contrasted to a short
passage in the Gudea Cylinders, which alludes to a journey of Ninĝirsu:
The year had ended; the month had been completed.
The new year had appeared in the sky.
The month had entered its house,
and of that month the third day had passed:
Ninĝirsu had arrived from Eridu,
and the most beautiful moonlight shone
illuminating the land. Eninnu vied with the (new-)born moon.
(Gudea Cylinder B, col. iii,5–11)16
14
See Mayer-Opificius, 2000.
15
Read after ms. A (N 1363 + UM 29–16–785 + N 6368 + N 4171 = CDLI P257198):
20 iti u4-sakar u4 nam-[tar-re-d]e3
21 dnin-urta eriduki-še3 na-ĝen
22 para10 abzu-ka dur2 nam-mi-ni-ĝar
23 di abzu ki-be2-še3 i3-ku5-de3
24 ka-aš mah eriduki-ga(eras.) ki-be2-še3 i3-bar-re
16
Read after RIME 3/1.1.7.Cyl B:
5 mu ĝen-na-am3 iti til-la-am3
6 mu gibil an-na im-ma-gub
Rites, Music, and Banquets 467
Some texts only refer to the time of day a journey begins. Nin-Isina, for instance,
starts her procession early in the morning at sunrise:
From the house she indeed came forth joyfully, while(?) in the cella.
Her nation uttered prayers at sunrise.
(Nin-Isina’s Journey to Nippur, lines 3–4)17
Other texts, such as the royal song of praise Sîn-iddinam A, do not explicitly state
a time of travel, but allude to the season by the quality of the offerings presented:
The abundance – pure first-fruit offerings, the first-fruit offerings of the
New Year, he (i.e., Sîn-iddinam) made perfect in great fashion there.
To the Quay-of-Life, the quay of Ur, he made the respective load travel.
(Sîn-iddinam A, lines 10’ and α)18
We can glean some dates also from the extant economic records. The texts dating
to the Ur III period attest to different journeys of the healing goddesses Nintinuga
of Nippur and Nin-Isina of Isin and Umma.19 But the available texts do not allow
for any conclusive evidence whether or not individual journeys happen on a reg-
ular basis.20 Some evidence can also be gleaned from letters, which occasionally
refer to divine processions.21 The following Old Babylonian Akkadian letter from
Šaduppûm, for instance, refers to a journey of the weather god Adad:
On the first auspicious day, which is the sixteenth, three days from now,
Adad will leave for (his) sacred precinct. As soon as you hear this tablet of
mine, send instructions.
(Letter from Šaduppûm, lines 4–11)22
None of the earlier sources rival the detailed information that is attested in late
ritual texts pertaining to the Babylonian New Year Festival. On the eighth day the
gods gather in Marduk’s temple in Babylon. A procession leads through the city
gate to the canal, where they board the processional boat with destination at the
bīt akīti.24 Three days later, the gods return to Babylon for a second divine assem-
bly, before the deities who visited Marduk return to their respective home cities
on the twelfth day.
22
Read after Sumer 14, Pl. 11 (ARCHIBAB T14843): (4) a-na {×} u4-mi-im dam-qi2-im
(5) ma-ah-ri-im ša U4 16.KAM (6) iš-tu i-na-an-na U4 3.KAM (7) dIM a-na ha-am-ri-im
(8) uṣ-ṣi2 tup-pi2 an-ni-a-am (9) i-na še-me-e-em (10) a-na ma-[ah-ri-ia] (11) ši-ta-pa-[ra-
am-ma (?)]. See also Cohen, 1993: 255.
23
Read after YOS 3, 9 (CDLI P304990): (8) U4 22.KAM2 ša2 itiZIZ2 paṭ-ṭar-ra-ak (9) KASKA-
L a-na GIR3II-ia šak-na-at (10) a-mur U4 6.KAM2 ša2 itiŠE (11) DINGIRmeš il-la-ka {×} (12) it-
II
ti DINGIRmeš U4 5.KAM2 al-la-ka. See also Cohen, 1993: 342; Zgoll, 2006: 33.
24
See Zgoll, 2006: 31–33.
25
Read after the CBS 14058+ (CDLI P269076), col. i,1–12, and CBS 8316+ (CDLI
P263157), lines 43–49:
41 izim ku3 be6-lu5-da gal-gal
42 sipa zi sul-gi-re ki-be2-še3 mu-ĝa2-ar-ĝa2-ar
Rites, Music, and Banquets 469
Some of the extant literary compositions, such as the quoted lines from the royal
song of praise Sulgi R, allude to rites and events prior to the departure of the re-
spective deities. In this text, after having fulfilled the gods’ commission to build
a processional barge, king Sulgi continues to carry out the rites that start Ninlil’s
(and Enlil’s) journey to the sanctuary Tummal.
The most explicit description of events and rituals in the corpus of Sumerian
divine journeys can be found in Nin-Isina’s Journey of Nippur, which was quoted
at the beginning of this paper. The composition describes in great detail a proces-
sion leading from Nin-Isina’s sanctuary, the Egalmah, down to the river (Fig. 2).
The goddess is surrounded by her family. Her spouse, the god Pabilsaĝ, walks
probably next to the goddess. She is followed by their children Damu-saga and
Gunura. The text is here somewhat ambiguous. Both children appear to walk in
the role of protective spirit(s), the Lama-saga. Alternatively, the goddess is fol-
lowed by Damu-saga, Gunura, and a protective spirit.26 Another protective spirit
(Alad-saga) walks on her right side. This spirit is identified as her father Enlil.
The Middle Assyrian source has here Enlil’s father. On the left side walks the
Udug-saga, who is identified as Nunamnir. Before the goddess is an emblem (šu-
nir) set up. The procession is led by Nin-Isina’s messenger Šumah. According to
line 13 of the composition, he performs purification rites. Likely the inhabitants
of Isin participate in the procession following the goddess and her entourage to
the river.27 The participation of the inhabitants can also be seen much later in the
context of the Babylonian New Year Festival: “Bēl came forth from Babylon. The
lands bowed before him.”28
In the moon god’s journey described in the short song of praise Sîn-iddinam
A, offerings happen already in Ur, where the king presents his gifts to Nanna. The
ser3-gid2-da of Ninurta may hint at festivities at the beginning or during the trip
as well:
[He prepares the path for the] ki[ng, who travels to the Abzu.]
He prepares the path for Ninurta, who travels to Eridu.
He made the road festive; he … for him.
He leads Ninurta joyfully (into) the Abzu of Eridu.
(Ninurta’s Journey to Eridu I, col. ii,1′–4′)29
29
Read after CBS 13938 (CDLI P268939):
1′ lug[al abzu-še3 du-a-ne2 ĝiri3 mu-na-ĝa2-ĝa2]
2′ dnin-urta eriduki-še3 d[u-a-ne2] / ĝiri3 mu-na-ĝa2-ĝa2
3′ kaskal izim-gen7 mu-na-du3 gu2 mu-na-[–]
4′ dnin-urta abzu eriduki-ga ul-la mi-ni-ib-tum2-mu
Rites, Music, and Banquets 471
4. Rites en route
Uruk lay ahead of the offerings, Larsa lay behind them.
She brought out of the house what was (never) brought out of the house,
and what must not be brought out of the house.
Holy Inana brought out of the house what was (never) brought out of the
house.
May you be greeted, may you be greeted, o boat, may you be greeted.
O boat of my father, may you be greeted, o boat may you be greeted.
She laid out flour before the barge and spread bran.
At her feet was a covered bronze gakkul vat.
With her fingers she pulled out the boxwood pin for him:
“Let me rub first-quality oil on its peg.”
“May ghee, syrup, and wine be plentiful in your midst,”
“May the suhur carp and the eštub carp rejoice at the prow of your boat.”
(But) the boat did not give to her its cargo (saying) “I am going to Nippur.”
(Nanna-Suen’s Journey to Nippur, lines 220–230)30
The moon god stops five times on his trip from Ur to Nippur. The stops are
Enegi,31 Larsa, Uruk, Šuruppag, and Tummal. As the above quote from the com-
position details, at each location the city goddess meets the moon god. Even if
these places are not the moon god’s destination, the various temples fully partake
in the rituals. Offerings are presented to the ship and parts of the ship are anointed.
The offerings appear not to be added to the gifts that will be presented by Nanna-
Suen to Enlil later in Nippur.
Apart from the moon god’s journey, the extant Sumerian literary compositions
do not provide much information regarding rituals performed during the trip. Usu-
30
Read after JRL 1060 (CDLI P430871):
220 niĝdaba-a saĝ-be2 larsam-ma ⸢egir⸣-be2 IM⸢ki⸣-a
221 ⸢e2⸣-ta nu-e3 e2-ta nu-e3 ⸢e2⸣-ta nam-ta-ab-e3
222 dše3-⸢ri2⸣-da sa6-ga ⸢e2⸣-<ta> nu-e3 e2-ta nam-ta-ab-e3
223 silim-ma he2-me-en silim-ma he2-me-en ĝešma2 silim-ma ⸢he2-me-en⸣
224 ĝešma2 aia-ĝu10 silim-ma he2-me-en ĝešma2 ⸢silim⸣-ma he2-⸢me⸣-[en]
225 ĝešma2-gur8-ra zi3 im-ma-ab-gub-be2 du8 im-ma-ab-[gub-be2]
226 ⸢ĝiri3⸣-ne2 gakkul zabar-ra im-ma-an-šu2-šu2
ɑ šu-si-ne2 ĝešbulug ĝeštaskarin-<na> mu-na-bu-bu-r[e]
227 aškud2-be2 i3 he-nun-na-ka šu ga-am3-ma-ni-i[b]-u[r3]
228 ša3-zu-a i3-nun lal3 ĝeštin niĝ2 he2-ni-ib-gu-ul-gu-[ul]
229 ⸢si⸣ ĝešma2 saĝ-ĝa2-zu suhurku6 eštubku6 ul-ul hu-⸢mu-ni-ib⸣-[du11]
230 [ĝešma2]-⸢e⸣ gu2-be2 nu-mu-na-ab-šum2-mu nibru⸢ki-še3 ba-DU⸣-[un]
31
The place name written with the sign IM refers to three different localities: (1) Enegi, a
cult place of Ninazu, (2) Karkar, a cult place of the weather god Iškur, and (3) Muru, a cult
place of Ninkilim. See Edzard, 1976–1980.
472 Klaus Wagensonner
ally, the accounts do not mention stops at all. Somewhat ambiguous is Enki’s
Journey to Nippur. In line 90 of the poem, Enki slays oxen and slaughters sheep.32
The slaughtered oxen and sheep, however, are not among the food prepared for
the gods after Enki arrived in Nippur.
When deities arrive at their destination, they usually present the visited deity with
gifts. The lines quoted above come from a royal song of praise dedicated to Sulgi,
which is known from a number of Old Babylonian manuscripts. The king’s pre-
rogative was, among many other things, to gather the offerings for the gods. These
are then presented by Nanna to his father in Nippur. We encounter a similar aspect
in another journey by the moon-god. A short song of praise dedicated to the Larsa
king Sîn-iddinam shows that the king gathers offerings, which he brings before
Nanna in Ur. The god then travels with these offerings to Nippur:
The first barley he tied together (for) the lapis lazuli Ekur.
He (i.e., the king) [brought] the load to the Quay-of-Life, the quay of Ur.
He had it enter in joy the Emah, the house of Sîn.
Nanna rejoiced over the king; Ningal … because of him.
(Sîn-iddinam A, lines 4′–7′)34
32 d
en-ki-ke4 gud im-ma-ab-gaz-e udu im-ma-ab-šar2-re.
33
Read after HS 1460 (source A):
14 d⸢nanna⸣-a niĝ2 mu-a aia-ne2 den-lil2-ra tur3 ku3-ta ⸢mu-na-ni-in-ku4-ku4⸣
15 ma2 nesaĝ-[ĝa2-ke4] si um-sa2
16 den-lil2-⸢ra⸣ nibruki tumu3-de3
17 kisal e2-kur-ra-ka nesaĝ si sa2-sa2-e-de3
18 ur-saĝ ⸢ama⸣-ne2-e ⸢ur5⸣-re ba-an-du2 dnin-sumun2-na-ke4
19 sul-gi ama-⸢ne2-e ur5⸣-re ba-an-du2 dnin-sumun2-na-ke4
For the translation compare Lämmerhirt, 2012: 55.
34
Read after BM 14016 (source A):
4′ ⸢še saĝ⸣-be2 gu2-sa bi2-in-la2-la2 e2-kur za-gin3
5′ ⸢kar⸣-nam-ti-la kar uri5ki-ma-še3 gu2-un-be2 i[m-mi-ni-u5]
6′ e2-mah-a e2 d+suen-na-še3 hul2-la ba-ni-in-ku4
7′ lugal-ra dnanna mu-da-hul2 dnin-ga[l m]u-un-ši-in-[–]
Rites, Music, and Banquets 473
A banquet is usually the crowning moment of a divine journey, but only a few of
the extant texts refer to banquets explicitly. The quoted lines are attested in Enki’s
Journey to Nippur. The god Enki is visited by several deities: Ninĝirsu or Ninurta
and Inana. But on one occasion, Enki travels to Enlil in Nippur by boat after he
completed the construction of his temple in Eridu.41 Among the Sumerian divine
journeys Enki’s Journey to Nippur is the best known, since the composition was
part of the advanced scribal curriculum. Hence, many manuscripts survive to this
day.42
When the moon god arrives in Nippur at the Ekur, he prepares for his father
Enlil the bread offerings. Enlil is happy about these offerings and orders the tem-
ple’s servants as follows:
Enlil rejoiced over Suen, speaking kindly:
“Give to my little one, someone who (likes to) eat sweet cake, sweet cake!
Give to my Nanna, who loves eating sweet cake, sweet cake!
Bring forth for him from the Ekur bread allotment and august bread!
Pour out for him first-quality beer, my pure …!”
(Nanna-Suen’s Journey to Nippur, line 319–322)43
40
Read with Ceccarelli, 2012: 95–96:
101 den-ki-ke4 eš3-e nibruki-a
102 aia-ne2 den-lil2-ra inda3 mu-un-gu7-e
103 an ki mah-a im-ma-an-tuš
104 an-ra den-lil2 im-ma-ni-in-us2
105 dnin-tur5 za3-gal-la im-mi-in-tuš
106 da-nun-na ki-us2-ki-us2-be2 im-mi-in-dur2-ru-ne-eš
107 lu2-u3-ne kaš i3-na8-na8-e kurun2 im-du10-ge-ne
108 zabarAGA im-kur4-kur4-re-ne
109 zabar-e an uraš-e a-da-min3 mu-un-e3-ne
110 ti-lim-da ma2-gur8 ku3 im-bi-bi-re-e-ne
111 kaš ba-naĝ kurun2 ba-du10-ga-ta
112 e2-ta ĝiri3-be2-a ba-ra-ĝar-ra-ta
113 den-lil2 nibruki-a hul2-la mu-ni-ib-DU
41
One other text, known from two fragments from Ur, alludes to Enki’s presence in Nip-
pur; see Ludwig, 2006.
42
For a list of witnesses see Ceccarelli, 2012: 91–92. Add the unprovenanced source
CUSAS 42, 669.
43
Read after BL 1 (CDLI P414091):
Rites, Music, and Banquets 475
In the account of the journey of the healing goddess Nin-Isina to Nippur a banquet
may be indicated by the following line:
In the spacious courtyard, the courtyard of Enlil she offered in great quan-
tity oxen and sheep.
(Nin-Isina’s Journey to Nippur, line 21)44
The main festivities in this text, however, happen when the goddess and her en-
tourage returned to Isin. The concluding lines of the composition testify to a
sumptuous dinner accompanied by music:
They (i.e., Nin-Isina and her spouse Pabilsaĝ) entered the Egalmah, her
beloved cella,
And took seat on the great august dais. Provisions are provided in great
quantity there.
Her beloved pure harps, Ninhinun and Ninigizibara,
enter(?) loudly resounding in pure song and abundant praise for her.
The pure drum and pure harp play for her.
The gala-priests … rise for Nin-Isina,
After An, Enlil, Enki, and Ninmah have soothed her,
After Ninmah in her Egalmah has made (her) abode pleasant,
The king slays an ox for her, he slaughters a sheep for her.
Syrup, wine, emmer-beer, kurunnu-beer, and first-quality beer he libates
for her.
(Nin-Isina’s Journey to Nippur, line 40–49)45
Some other texts in this corpus are less explicit. An account of a journey of Ni-
nurta to Eridu mentions the following:
When the king entered Abzu, the day was abundance, the night was
magnificence.
When Ninurta entered Eridu, the day was abundance, the night was
magnificence.
(Ninurta’s Journey to Eridu I, col. ii, 5′–6′)46
In the poem Inana and Enki, a poem that loosely can be related to the topic of
divine journeys, the goddess is served refreshments upon entering Eridu:
After Inana had entered the Abzu (and) Eridu,
She eats butter cake.
They pour cool water for her, which refreshes the heart,
And give her beer to drink in front of the lion,
He treats her like a friend, make her feel like a colleague.
At the pure table, the heavenly table,
he welcomes holy Inana.
Enki and Inana drink beer together and enjoy kurun beer,
they filled the bronze AGA-vessels up to the rim.
(Inana and Enki, Seg. B, 17′–26′)47
In this composition, Inana tricks Enki into handing over the divine powers to her.
She leaves Eridu with the Boat-of-Heaven. Enki, with the help of his minister
Isimu and a number of supernatural creatures, attempts to stop her en route.
Economic records dating to the end of the third millennium BCE occasionally
refer to offerings given to deities at departure or upon their arrival. Thus, we learn
46
Read after CBS 13938 (CDLI P268939):
5′ lugal abzu-a ku4-a-ne2 u4 he2-ĝal2-am3 gi6 giri17-zal-am3
6′ dnin-urta eriduki-ga ku4-a-ne2 u4 he2-ĝal2-am3 gi6 giri17-zal-am3
47
Read after CBS 13571+ (CDLI P268601), col. ii:
17′ dinana abzu eriduki-še3 um-<ma-ku4-ra-ta>
18′ gug2 i3-nun-ta im-da-gu7-e
19′ a sed niĝ2 ša3 te mu-na-de2-e-ne
20′ igi piriĝ-ĝa2-ka kaš mu-na-na8-na8
21′ ĝa2 ma-la-še3 mu-na-si-ge nam-ge4-me-eš3 mu-na-ak-e
22′ ĝešbansur ku3 ĝešbansur an-na-ke4
23′ ku3 dinana-ra niĝ2-silim mu-na-e
24′ den-ki dinana e-en-be2-ta
25′ abzu-a kaš im-na8-na8-ne kurun2 im-⸢du10-ge⸣-ne
26′ ⸢zabar⸣aga im-gur4-gur4-e-⸢ne⸣
The final lines of this passage are close to Enki’s Journey to Nippur; see note 40, above.
Rites, Music, and Banquets 477
in one document from Puzriš-Dagan that one fattened sheep belonging to the pal-
ace is provided for Nin-Isina of Umma when she arrives from Umma.48
7. Music
The ala drums, which were not available, he (i.e., Enki) let reach the place.
The bronze sem drums, which were not available, he made go out to their
place.
(Enki’s Journey to Nippur, line 91–92)49
48
SACT 1, 154 (CDLI P128909), lines 3–6. For this document see Sallaberger, 1993: 153
with note 733.
49
Read after Ceccarelli, 2012: 95:
91 kuša2-la2 nu-ĝal2-la ki-be2-še3 sa2 im-du11
92 sem5zabar nu-ĝal2-la ki-be2-še3 im-mi-in-e3
50
Read after the Old Babylonian manuscript Saeedi 212:
42 ⸢balaĝ⸣ ku3 ki aĝ2-ĝa2-ne2 nin-hi-nun dnin-igi-zi-bar-ra
43 ser3 ku3 za3-me-en la2a-la ĝal2-la-ne2 gu <<he2>> nun di i3-⸢ku⸣-re
44 ub ku3 balaĝ ku3-be2 šu-uš ⸢mu⸣-un-na-⸢ta⸣-ke4
Considering the frequent use of non-orthographic spelling in this source, the verb in line
43 may be a spelling for ku4, “to enter.”
51
See Shehata, 2009: 272.
478 Klaus Wagensonner
The royal figure appears occasionally in direct relation to the divine journey. The
two lines quoted from the song of praise Sulgi R show his clear participation in
the rituals pertaining to the divine procession. These events happen at the desti-
nation. The composition Sulgi R is dedicated to the construction of a processional
boat (ma2-gur8) of Ninlil, which is used for the goddess’s short journey to the
sanctuary Tummal just outside of Nippur.53 According to the text, the goddess
instructs Sulgi to build it (lines 3–4). This event can be linked to the name of
Sulgi’s eighth year: “Year, the processional boat of Ninlil was caulked.”54 The
first half of the text addresses the different parts of the barge. Thereafter, starting
in line 41, the events after completion of the construction are described. The king
appears throughout the events that pertain to the journey. It is he, who gathers the
materials for the construction of the barge (line 8) and it is the king, who estab-
lishes the feasts and rituals (lines 41–42).
In the composition, which was quoted in part at the onset of this paper, the
king is mentioned during the trip:
She (i.e., Nin-Isina) directs the boat on the Kirsig-canal. The king crosses
The king puts his feet on both banks. \ over for her.
(Nin-Isina’s Journey to Nippur, lines 15–16)55
After having arrived in Nippur, the goddess presents her gifts to Enlil. Here too,
the king plays a part in the story line.56 He is also involved in the concluding
festivities in Isin after the party returns there:
52
Read after CBS 8316 + CBS 14111 (CDLI P263157):
66 dnin-lil2-da ki ĝešbun2-na-ka za3-ge mu-ti-ni-ib2-si-eš2
67 sul-gi sipa niĝdaba gal-gal-la-ne2 mu-ne-ši!-ib2-dib-dib-be2
53
For this composition and the similar text Išme-Dagan I pertaining to the construction of
a chariot for Enlil see Klein, 1990.
54
mu ma2-gur8 dnin-lil2-la2 ba-ab-du8.
55
Read after the Old Babylonian manuscript Saeedi 212:
15 ⸢i7⸣kir11-sig-e ĝešma2 mu-⸢da-ri lugal⸣ mu-⸢un⸣-da-⸢ab⸣-le-e
16 lugal-e gu2-⸢tab⸣ min-na-be2 ĝiri3 mu-un-⸢na-ĝa2⸣-ĝa2
56
The “king” is not to be mistaken as Nin-Isina’s spouse, Pabilsaĝ, who, in his own ac-
count of a journey to Nippur, is referred to as king. In Nin-Isina’s Journey, Pabilsaĝ ap-
pears to stay back in Isin. When the goddess returns from Nippur, he greets her.
Rites, Music, and Banquets 479
Some indication on the royal role in these journeys is also attested in the short text
Sîn-iddinam A, which describes a journey of the moon god to Nippur. In this text,
the king gathers offerings and brings them, supposedly from Larsa, before the
moon god in Ur. But Ur is not the final destination of these offerings, as they are
not destined for the moon god, but for Enlil in Nippur. Enlil’s son Nanna serves
as intermediary between the king and the highest god in the pantheon:
After he brought them to Nippur, Suen prepared the offerings.
He brought them into the Ekur, Enlil’s temple.
Enlil, being rejoiced over the offerings, decreed a good fate for him.
(Sîn-iddinam A, lines 11′, β, and 12′)58
Other than in Nanna-Suen’s Journey to Nippur, the purpose of this journey is not
abundance in the land, but a good fate and a prosperous reign for king Sîn-iddi-
nam. This tripartite division of the journey with the king gathering offerings first
can also be seen in the royal song of praise Sulgi F. The king’s role to take care
of the offerings is among the reasons why Ninsumuna bore Sulgi.59
9. Conclusions
As the examples above have shown, the topic of Sumerian divine journeys does
not appear as formulized within the corpus of Sumerian literature as, for instance,
precedence debates (Rangstreitgespräche).60 Travelling deities are attested in sev-
eral very different types of texts. While a few narrative poems address the journey
57
Read after the Old Babylonian manuscript Saeedi 212:
48 lugal-e gud mu-un-na-ab-gaz-e ⸢udu⸣ mu-un-na-ab-šar2-e
49 lal3 ĝeštin u2-lu-šin-ši-en gu-ru-⸢un-ši*⸣-en* mu-un-na-ba-ab-le-e
The composition’s final line, line 49, has several variants compared to the bilingual recen-
sion known from Middle Assyrian Assur. The two types of beer, emmer-beer and kurunnu-
beer, rendered ulušinnu and kurunnu in the Akkadian version respectively, are written syl-
labically. The Middle Assyrian spelling kaš-ziz2-su3 is written u2-lu-šen-ši-en; the spelling
kaš-su3 is written gu-ru-un-ši*-en*. Cohen (2017: 90) read the last two signs [ka]š mah,
but the tablet does not support this reading. Thus, the spelling ši-en appears to represent a
phonetic writing for what later appears as su3. The usual Sumerian equivalents for ulušinnu
and kurunnu are kaš-ziz2-a-an and kaš-din respectively.
58
Read after the manuscripts CT 42, 45 (CDLI P283737) and UET 6, 98 (CDLI P346183):
11′ dsuen niĝdaba-da si bi2-in-sa2 nibruki-še3 ⸢in?-tumu3?⸣
β e2-kur-re e2 den-lil2-la2-še3 b[i2-i]n-ku4
12′ den-lil2 niĝdaba-da hul2-la-e nam du10 mu-ni-tar
59
For the full quote see above, Chapter “Rites at the destination.”
60
See, for instance, Mittermayer, 2019: 2; 2020.
480 Klaus Wagensonner
of a god as the or at least one of the main topics, other compositions only hint at
a procession or journey. Similarly, the level of detail varies greatly between the
different examples or attestations. Some put particular emphasis on the mode of
transport, others put the reasons for the journey into greater focus. This paper
focused, in particular, on rituals mentioned or described in the extant sources.
Apart from Sumerian literature, divine processions are particularly well known
from much later evidence. Here, the New Year festival comes to mind. We are
best informed about the processions of Marduk and later Anu. Not so much unlike
the moon god in the afore-mentioned Sumerian narrative Nanna-Suen’s Journey
to Nippur, Late Babylonian ritual texts provide ample evidence for the different
stops during the New Year festival. The main difference is that the moon god,
similar to the other major gods, travels to other cities, while Marduk only travels
to the bīt akīti. While Nanna-Suen’s Journey appears rather stereotypic in this
regard – the account of every single stop is repeated word for word except for the
place names and the respective city goddess –, the late ritual descriptions are far
more detailed. In total, Marduk stops eleven times between his temple and the bīt
akīti.61 According to the Seleucid era texts, Anu stops seven times on his proces-
sion from the Bīt rēš temple in Uruk to the bīt akīti.62 The gods travel from the
inner city (of Babylon) to the bīt akīti outside of the city walls. Upon completion
of the rituals there, they return to the city three days later.63 Deities from other
cities participate in these festivities as well. A Late Babylonian ritual text states
as follows: “Anu and Enlil travel from Uruk and Nippur to Babylon to grasp Bēl’s
hand. They move in procession with him to the House-of-Prayers (i.e., bīt
akīti).”64 The text also mentions that all the gods from all the cult centres come to
Babylon on this occasion. The cases of Marduk’s and Anu’s cultic processions
are only the two better attested instances.
Nebuchadnezzar II commemorates in his inscriptions the construction of pro-
cessional boats. Like Ninlil’s barge in Sulgi R, also the boat of Marduk is heavily
decorated:
The Ma’umuša, (Marduk’s) processional boat, [his] pure vehicle,
its sides, prow and stern, its equipment, its hold, I coated with eagles
and mušhuššu-dragons, of ṣāriru-gold.
I decorated it with precious stones and in the current of the pure Euphrates
I had its brilliance made like stars in the firmament.
I filled it with splendor for the amazement of all the people.
At the festivities of the beginning of the year, I placed Marduk,
61
See Pongratz-Leisten, 1994: 40–41.
62
See Pongratz-Leisten, 1994: 42–43.
63
See Zgoll, 2006: 18.
64
BM 32654+, rev. vi,8–12. See Pongratz-Leisten, 1994: 133; Lambert, 2013: 296–297.
Rites, Music, and Banquets 481
the Enlil of the gods, in its midst and had him go in procession
to the magnificent festival of his august Akītu.
(Nebuchadnezzar II, WBA, col. v, 19–36)65
Bibliography
Attinger, P., 2021: Glossaire sumérien-français principalement des textes litté-
raires paléobabyloniens. Wiesbaden.
Brisch, N., 2007: Tradition and the Poetics of Innovation. Sumerian Court Liter-
ature of the Larsa Dynasty (c. 2003–1763 BCE). Alter Orient und Altes Tes-
tament 339. Münster.
Cavigneaux, A. / Krebernik, M., 2000: “NIN-kirsig(a)”. Reallexikon der Assyrio-
logie 9, 449.
Ceccarelli, M., 2012: “Enkis Reise nach Nippur”. In C. Mittermayer / S. Ecklin
(eds.): Altorientalische Studien zu Ehren von Pascal Attinger. mu-ni u4 ul-li2-
a-aš ĝa2-ĝa2-de3. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 256. Freiburg / Göttingen, 89–
118.
Cohen, M. E., 1981: Sumerian Hymnology: the Eršemma. Cincinnati.
— 1993: The Cultic Calendars of the Ancient Near East. Bethesda.
— 2017: New Treasures of Sumerian Literature. Bethesda.
Debourse, C., 2022: Of Priests and Kings: The Babylonian New Year Festival in
the Last Age of Cuneiform Culture. Culture and History of the Ancient Near
East 127. Leiden / Boston.
Edzard, D. O., 1976–1980: “IM”. Reallexikon der Assyriologie 5, 63–65.
— 1997: Gudea and His Dynasty, Royal Inscriptions of Mesopotamia – Early
Periods, vol. 3/1. Toronto.
Finet, A., 1981: “Les dieux voyageurs en Mesopotamie”. Akkadica 21, 1–13.
Frayne, D. R. / Stuckey, J. H., 2021: A Handbook of Gods and Goddesses of the
Ancient Near East. Three Thousand Deities of Anatolia, Syria, Israel, Sumer,
Babylonia, Assyria, and Elam. University Park: Eisenbrauns.
Gabbay, U. / Mirelman, S. / Reid, N., 2020: “A Literary Topos of Abundance:
Two Emesal Prayers to Enki”. Zeitschrift für Assyriologie 110, 25–36.
Klein, J., 1990: “Šulgi an Išmedagan: Originality and dependence in Sumerian
royal hymnology”. In: J. Klein / A. Skaist (eds.): Bar-Ilan Studies in Assyriol-
ogy Dedicated to Pinhas Artzi. Jerusalem, 65–136.
Lambert, W. G., 2013: Babylonian Creation Myths. Mesopotamian Civilization
16. Winona Lake.
Ludwig, M. C., 2006: “‘Enki in Nippur’: ein bislang unidentifiziertes, mythologi-
sches Fragment”. Journal of Cuneiform Studies 58, 27–38.
65
See Debourse, 2022: 54–55. For a discussion of processional boats see Pongratz-Leisten,
1994: 196–198.
482 Klaus Wagensonner
Romolo Loreto
1. Introduction
Thirty-seven seals constitute a collection exhibit in the Museo Orientale Umberto
Scerrato (MOUS) of the University of Napoli “L’Orientale”. The lot was acquired
during the 1960s of the last century by Professor of Semitic Studies Giovanni
Garbini in order to give form to a permanent collection for educational purposes.1
All of them, both cylinder and stamp seals were previously studied by L. Cagni,2
S. Campurra Mazzoni,3 and A. de Maigret4 in the early 1970s; finally, they were
described by S. Graziani in the catalogue of the MOUS, whose last edited version
(2nd) appeared in 2018.5
Since the previous studies focused on the stylistic and iconographic features
of both cylindrical and stamp seals, a technological study mainly addressed to
engraving and intaglio techniques will be carried out within the laboratory activ-
ities of the MOUS and the teaching of Archaeology and Art History of the Ancient
Near East at “L’Orientale”. The collection is even more valuable because the seals
cover a wide chronological range, stretching from the Akkadian to the Sassanian
period, allowing to observe the technological changes that characterize the An-
cient Near Eastern glyptic, based on a high magnification digital microscopic
analysis approach and the support of 3D orthorectified models.
An Old Babylonian cylinder seal engraved with a worshiping scene is the main
topic of this contribution. Nonetheless, in order to better suggest the possible iden-
tification of engraving and intaglio techniques, an Akkadian (MO255) and an Ur
III cylinder seal (MO257) are taken into account for comparison.
1
Graziani, 2018: 20.
2
Cagni, 1971; 1972.
3
Campurra Mazzoni, 1972.
4
De Maigret, 1974.
5
Graziani, 2018.
486 Romolo Loreto
6
Sax / Meeks, 1994.
7
Sax / McNabb / Meeks, 1998.
8
Collon, 2005: 36, 41.
9
Collon, 2005: 32–35.
An Old Babylonian Cylinder Seal from the Museo Orientale Umberto Scerrato 487
Fig. 1: MO262, MO255, and MO257. Seals and stamps on polymer clay.
The Ur III seal MO257 (Fig. 1), a serpentine stone 2.1 cm high and 1.2 cm in
diameter, also displays an introductory scene rather standardized.10 A worshiper
is led by a goddess before a god or goddess (no beard clearly visible) seated on a
box-like or panelled throne under the crescent. Between the figures a scorpion is
visible, whilst between the leading goddess and the seated god/goddess also a
10
Collon, 2005: 36.
488 Romolo Loreto
11
A close comparison is in Collon, 1982; num. 386; for further comparisons see Cagni,
1971: 96–97.
12
Sax / Meeks, 1994; Sax / McNabb / Meeks, 1998.
13
Gorelick / Gwinnett, 1978; 1979.
An Old Babylonian Cylinder Seal from the Museo Orientale Umberto Scerrato 489
out a technological study on the Indus valley steatite (softstone) stamp seals by
adopting a Laser Scanning Confocal Microscopy (LSCM), able to give form to a
high definition 3D model.14
14
Vidale / Angelini / Frenez, 2018.
15
Sax / Meeks, 1994: 156.
16
Sax / Meeks, 1994: 156.
490 Romolo Loreto
cut it all along its vertical axis, from the top to the bottom edges), but only of a
wheel or micro chipping or scratching. Also, if one compares Shamash arms and
shoulders with the last figure in the Akkadian seal (Fig. 3b), clearly two different
engraving techniques emerge, a wheel-cutting one and a tool hand-held procedure
the other, that is a coarser engraving procedure. As it is known, according to Sax
/ McNabb / Meeks and Collon the introduction of the wheel-cutting technique is
later than usually believed and must be dated to the first half of the II millennium
BCE (Age of Hammurabi).17 Thus, we do not recognize the usage of such a me-
chanical and efficient instrument on the Akkadian seal, whilst it is attested in
MO262, which is most probably attributable to the 19th–18th cent. BCE.
It is also useful to look at the arms of Adad (Fig. 3c). His left arm once again
shows a continuous curvilinear fine shape, from the shoulder to the hand; on the
contrary the right arm shows a less accurate intaglio, with an interruption at the
elbow. Such a difference could derive from a wrong usage of the wheel-cutting
17
Sax / McNabb / Meeks, 1998: 20; Collon, 2005: 52.
An Old Babylonian Cylinder Seal from the Museo Orientale Umberto Scerrato 491
tools or from the usage of another tool or is attributable to a typical style, indeed
comparisons for this detail are quite abundant (BM 134760, BM 89298).
18
Sax / McNabb / Meeks, 1998: 13.
492 Romolo Loreto
Fig. 4: Details of MO255 and MO257 regular and irregular marks: a) MO255, straight
marks, with a triangular regular profile (470x); b) MO255, irregular marks (470x); c) Ea’s
jar (250x); d) detail of the Ea’s jar at 390x; e) comparison between straight marks (file or
saw) and irregular marks (scratching or micro-chipping) in MO257.
To better appreciate the most accurate details of tool’s mark, one can compare
this last feature with the garment of the double-faced god in the Akkadian MO255.
In this case, the garment shows marks of a less accurate instrument (Fig. 4b),
resulting from scratching or micro-chipping. Indeed, even at a macro scale some
marks are recognizable. Both the garment of the standing figures and seated Ea
show non parallel and irregular lines. This is also the case of the linear features of
the inscribed panel and god’s throne in the Ur III MO257 (Fig. 4e). All the hori-
zontal lines, made by using a saw or file, are straight and regular marks, with a
constant thickness, whilst all the vertical elements are characterized by irregular
marks, thicker in their upper part and thinner in the bottom edge, most probably
resulting from the usage of a scratch or a chipping procedure: basically one can
see here the first impact point of the scratcher or chipper right where the groove
is larger.
Among the rough techniques visible, one could probably include the making
of the cultic water jar held by Ea (Fig. 4c). This rounded element is clearly made
thanks to the usage of a tool driven by a revolving movement, apparently a fine
one, if we limit the analysis to a macro scale. In fact, one can dissertate if the tool
An Old Babylonian Cylinder Seal from the Museo Orientale Umberto Scerrato 493
19
Sax / McNabb / Meeks, 1998: 15.
20
Cagni, 1971: 96–97.
21
Line 1: the additional wedge in the front part of the sign KAL also appears in CUSAS 6
1544. Line 2: the patronoymyc dumu ha.DU.DU occurs in NATN 882, where the name of
the scribe is ur-dkal-kal, of which the writing in MO257 could be an odd abbreviation (or
copy). Differently from the carving of the scene, the legend is of poor quality, and the
signs are either wrong or irregular in terms of paleography. The author owes the reading
and interpretation of the inscription to Noemi Borrelli: to her goes my gratitude.
494 Romolo Loreto
Fig. 5: Details of MO257 inscription and throne’s marks resulting from a saw or a file and
compared to the MO255: a) the sign KAL mistakenly written, the wrong part is high-
lighted; b-c) horizontal mark resulting from a saw or file on MO257 (470x, silicon paste);
d) MO255 diagonal mark resulting from a saw or file (470x, polymer clay).
So, either this is a mistake made by a modern falsifier or this is a mistake made
in antiquity, maybe a mistake made by the seal cutter itself, not necessarily an
erudite. From a microscopic approach it is possible to suggest to compare the tool
marks left on the Ur III seal with others. For example, by looking at the clearly
identified marks of a saw on both the Ur III and Akkadian seals (Fig. 5b–d). The
marks apparently match, both in their triangular profile and in the straightness of
the lines, even when different pastes for the mould are used: polymer clay or sili-
con. There is not such a poorly engraving techniques as noted by Cagni after all,22
thus the MOU257 Ur III seal should not be a fake.
22
Cagni, 1971: 96–97.
An Old Babylonian Cylinder Seal from the Museo Orientale Umberto Scerrato 495
Bibliography
Cagni, L., 1971: “Sigilli cilindrici con iscrizione cuneiforme”. Annali dell’Istituto
Orientale di Napoli 31, 95–100.
— 1972: “Le iscrizioni dei sigilli 2, 12 e 17 (Appendice a Campurra Mazzoni
1972)”. Annali dell’Istituto Orientale di Napoli 32, 449–451.
Campurra Mazzoni, S., 1972: “Sigilli cilindrici dell’Istituto Orientale di Napoli”.
Annali dell’Istituto Orientale di Napoli 32, 417–449.
Collon, D., 1982: Catalogue of the Western Asiatic Seals in the British Museum
– Cylinder Seals II, Akkadian – Post Akkadian – Ur III Periods. London: The
British Museum Press.
— 2005: First Impressions. Cylinder Seals in the Ancient Near East. London:
The British Museum Press.
Gorelick, L. / Gwinnett, A. J., 1978: “Ancient Seals and Moderne Science. Using
the scanning electron microscope as an aid in the study of ancient seals”. Ex-
pedition magazine 20/2, 38–47.
Gwinnett, A. J. / Gorelick, L., 1979: “Ancient Lapidary. A study using Scanning
Electron Microscopy and Functional Analysis”. Expedition magazine 22/1,
17–32.
Graziani, S., 2018: “I sigilli del Vicino Oriente antico/Seals from the Ancient Near
East”. In L. Caterina / R. Giunta (eds.): Museo orientale ‘Umberto Scerrato’.
Il Torcoliere, Napoli, 15–53.
de Maigret, A., 1974: “Sigilli a stampo dell’Istituto Orientale di Napoli”. Annali
dell’Istituto Orientale di Napoli 34, 577–583.
Sax, M. / McNabb, J. / Meeks, N. D., 1998: “Methods of Engraving Mesopota-
mian Cylinder Seals: Experimental Confirmation”. Archaeometry 40, 1–21.
Sax, M. / Meeks, N. D., 1994: “The Introduction of Wheel Cutting as a Technique
for Engraving Cylinder Seals: Its Distinction from Filing”. Iraq 56, 153–166.
Vidale, M. / Angelini, I. / Frenez, D., 2018: “Miniature in steatite. Un passo nel
mondo dei sigilli della civiltà dell’Indo”. In M. Cavalieri / C. Boschetti (eds.):
MVLTA PER ÆQVORA. Il polisemico significato della moderna ricerca ar-
cheologica. Omaggio a Sara Santoro. Fervet Opus 4. Presses Universitaire,
Louvain, Vol. I, 447–470.
The Cuneiform Corpus in its Geographical Setting
Preliminary Results of the Project
Geomapping Landscapes of Writing
1. Introduction
The present paper gives an overview of the aims and preliminary findings of Geo-
mapping Landscapes of Writing (GLoW), a research project funded by Riks-
bankens Jubilæumsfond for the Advancement of the Humanities and Social Sci-
ences (MXM19–1160:1) and hosted by the Department of Linguistics and Philol-
ogy of Uppsala University, Sweden. GLoW is headed by Jakob Andersson, with
Seraina Nett and Rune Rattenborg as researchers and Carolin Johansson and Gus-
tav Ryberg Smidt as research assistants. As the project at the time of writing is
still in its initial stages, our review will focus on the general aims and methodol-
ogy of our work, as well as present some provisional results, namely a first look
at an updated estimate of the total number of cuneiform inscriptions known and
the archaeological locations from which they derive, and a case study to illustrate
the kind of information that can be extracted from data collected by the project.
The core aim of the project is, firstly, to assemble a comprehensive metadata
index, namely attribute (i.e., the specific characteristics of a given text), biblio-
graphical, geographical and chronological metadata, of all cuneiform texts cur-
rently known from digital or analogue resources, and secondly, to make as large
a part as possible of the resulting dataset publicly available through collaboration
with existing open access digital catalogues (in particular, the Cuneiform Digital
Library Initiative), and thirdly to conduct a number of smaller exploratory anal-
yses of a quantitative as well as a qualitative nature based on the assembled da-
taset. Incorporating perspectives from cuneiform studies and landscape archaeol-
ogy coupled with the extensive use of a variety of data applications for the man-
agement and analysis of structured data, the project is highly interdisciplinary,
situated at the intersection between philology, archaeology, and digital humani-
ties.
The project data structure mimics the core data structure of the Cuneiform
Digital Library Initiative in order to facilitate easy sharing and integration of data,
further data compatibility and exchange between repositories, and bolster long-
term sustainability of the collected data. Through the conscious adaptation of our
498 Seraina Nett / Gustav Ryberg Smidt / Carolin Johansson / Rune Rattenborg
data collection efforts to the structure of existing key repositories in the field, as
well as through maintaining cross-reference capability between different datasets,
we hope that the project will contribute to the overall integration and standardisa-
tion of primary catalogue data over the long term. Our focus as far as data collec-
tion is concerned lies with basic attribute variables, e.g., material, artefact type,
genre, language, and script, as well as the formalised recording of object proveni-
ence and dating. The metadata assembled during the course of the project will be
integrated into the Cuneiform Digital Library online repository after the conclu-
sion of the data collection efforts.
Fig. 1: Select open access geodata records for the site of ancient Kiš, c. 85 kilometres south
of Baghdād, Iraq. Records captured 20 August 2020. Background image courtesy of
Google Maps. Map by Rune Rattenborg.
Whereas concepts and vocabularies for basic categorical attribute data are rel-
atively well-established within the domain of cuneiform studies, the formation of
high-quality data relating to the spatial and temporal location of inscriptions re-
quire a significant degree of curating. Procedures and requirements for defining
and generating geodata, for example, are often poorly documented or employing
opaque definitions of accuracy and certainty.1 For example, geodata on the loca-
tion of even major and well-known archaeological sites in the Middle East avail-
able from current spatial data repositories such as Google Maps, OpenStreetMap,
Geonames or Wikipedia display considerable spatial variation (Fig. 1). Establish-
ing a more robust set of geographical data for archaeological sites as done during
the course of the GLoW project (available in Rattenborg et al., 2021b) improves
the accuracy of the analyses conducted and provides a more secure framework to
make archaeological sites more easily accessible when using digital geographical
1
For a detailed discussion, see Goodchild, 2007.
The Cuneiform Corpus in its Geographical Setting 499
2
For an attempt to integrate the regional chronologies of West Asia and neighbouring
regions in the 3rd millennium, for example, see the results of the ARCANE project, in
particular Sallaberger / Schrakamp, 2015 for the textual evidence.
500 Seraina Nett / Gustav Ryberg Smidt / Carolin Johansson / Rune Rattenborg
ual inscriptions can be assigned with a relatively high level of certainty and there-
fore does not include texts with unknown or unclear provenience.
The estimates included in our index are based on compiled or overall estimates
from specialist literature, and so make no distinction between published and un-
published objects, or whether these objects have been unearthed through scientific
excavation or clandestinely. Our definition of ‘cuneiform writing’ for this purpose
has been kept intentionally broad, also including derived scripts such as Ugaritic
and Old Persian, but disregarding other contemporary scripts.3 This leads to a
number of idiosyncrasies within our dataset, as, for example, Cuneiform Luwian
is included, whereas its Hieroglyphic counterpart is not. To the extent possible,
our notion of an inscription includes every discrete archaeological object carrying
an inscription, also if the text is a duplicate. Inscribed bricks with identical in-
scriptions, for example, are counted as separate objects. Joining fragments, on the
other hand, count as one text, as far as it is possible to identify and track such
joins.
Fig. 2: Numerical and geographical distribution of records, juxtaposing the estimated num-
bers from the GLoW index (grey) with the texts currently recorded in the CDLI (white).
CDLI dataset acquired August 2020.
Our index of archaeological sites with cuneiform finds is compiled from a base
index developed as part of Memories For Life, a research project funded by the
Swedish Research Council for 2017–2021 and led by Jakob Andersson and Chris-
tina Tsouparopoulou. This index has been further augmented based on proveni-
ence values from a variety of digital and analogue catalogues. Each record has
been thoroughly checked and referenced through the consultation of excavation
reports, text editions, and museum catalogues. The current version of the index
3
For reasons of consistency, following the definition laid out in Edzard, 1980: 545.
The Cuneiform Corpus in its Geographical Setting 501
stands at 428.702 textual records distributed over 544 discrete archaeological lo-
cations.4 The geographical spread is quite extensive, reaching from Civita Castel-
lana in central Italy5 to Kabul in northeastern Afghanistan,6 and from the suburbs
of Orsk in central Russia7 to Edfu in southern Egypt.8 Additional finds from the
extreme periphery of the corpus include inscriptions found in Malta, Greece, and
elsewhere in southeastern Europe, as well as various locations in Central Asia,
predominantly Iran and Afghanistan. Together, these outliers form a broad pe-
ripheral zone that should of course not be taken as indicative of the extent of cu-
neiform writing per se. If we look at sites within southwest Asia itself – or the
area that we may call the ‘cuneiform world’ – the number and density of sites is,
however, quite impressive, also outside the traditional core areas in southern and
central Iraq. While certainly minor compared to the immense textual assemblages
found at principal sites in the alluvial south, the regularity with which smaller
finds of cuneiform writing occur in adjoining areas across the Fertile Crescent and
along major infrastructural nodes in the Iranian highlands suggests a much more
prevalent corpus than what is typically implied by general readers.
To illustrate this further, the second data series on the distribution map intro-
duces similar estimates derived from the CDLI catalogue for comparison. As can
be seen, a larger number of finds included in our survey is not found in the CDLI
dataset, indicating a strong – and very understandable – bias towards major text
assemblages from core areas of the cuneiform world in the latter database. While
we would like to stress that our work is not intended to duplicate existing data
collections, and without detracting from the efforts of current digital text cata-
logues, these figures suggest significant room for further augmenting and expand-
ing existing data repositories in order to provide a comprehensive catalogue of the
corpus.
4
The collected geodata is freely available online in Rattenborg et al., 2021b, the overarch-
ing methodology is discussed in greater detail in Rattenborg et al., 2021a.
5
An inscription, likely Neo-Babylonian in date, on a vessel fragment found in a tomb at
the site of Falerii, published in Cristofani / Fronzaroli, 1971.
6
Two signs, possibly Elamite, on a silver fragment that forms part of a Persian-period
hoard, see Hulin, 1954.
7
A vessel with a short trilingual Old Persian-Elamite-Babylonian inscription dating to the
Persian period, see Savelyeva / Smirnov, 1972.
8
Michaelidis, 1943.
502 Seraina Nett / Gustav Ryberg Smidt / Carolin Johansson / Rune Rattenborg
an example of data-driven perspectives that the project aims to apply across the
entire cuneiform corpus once the project data collection programme has been
completed.
Fig. 3: Distribution of Sumerian, Akkadian, and bilingual texts in the Ur-Uruk region,
based on the records in the GLoW database. Map by Carolin Johansson and Rune Ratten-
borg.
Taking language distribution as our starting point (Fig. 3), the present map
plots percentages for Sumerian, Akkadian, and bilinguals for each assemblage.
The picture that emerges is not particularly surprising, underscoring as it is the
strong predominance of Sumerian inscriptions in the far south of the alluvium. Of
some interest is Tall Khaibar, which includes a sizeable proportion of Sumerian-
language texts dating to the later second millennium BCE.9 Language distribution
also ties in rather neatly with the chronological distribution of inscriptions from
the same general region (Fig. 4). In the following map we have, for reasons of
clarity, separated the available records into two phases, before and after the Old
Babylonian period. Unsurprisingly, sites with a high proportion of Sumerian-lan-
guage texts in the previous map dominate the earlier chronological phase, with
the exception of Ur. The difference here can be ascribed to the presence of Sume-
rian-language school texts from later periods. Moreover, the chronological distri-
9
The Sumerian-language texts from Tall Khaibar are part of a group of school texts from
the elementary curriculum, including lexical lists. For the Tall Khaibar texts, see Campbell
et al., 2017: 28–32.
The Cuneiform Corpus in its Geographical Setting 503
bution also illustrates the relative decline of the region in the south and population
shifts occurring in the middle of the second millennium BCE.
Fig. 4: Chronological distribution of text finds in the Ur-Uruk region, based on the
records in the GLoW database. Map by Carolin Johansson and Rune Rattenborg.
have to be further explained by looking at the textual record from individual sites
in greater detail.
Fig. 5: Texts in the Ur-Uruk region distributed according to genre, based on the records in
the GLoW database. Map by Carolin Johansson and Rune Rattenborg.
Fig. 6: The comparative distribution of the most important genres among the sites of the
Ur-Uruk region (logarithmic scale).
The Cuneiform Corpus in its Geographical Setting 505
4. Further perspectives
These examples have, we hope, served to demonstrate the uses and types of anal-
yses that can be conducted with the data collected by the GLoW project, and how
detailed and comprehensive metadata may open up a variety of new avenues for
research of a quantitative as well as a qualitative nature. This approach is bound
to be particularly rewarding at regional and interregional levels of inquiry. The
example of language distribution may, for example, look entirely different from
the area around Ur and Uruk presented here when queried for other regions in a
larger perspective. A review of material or artefact type distribution in one or sev-
eral regions over time may bring out broader trends in the use of writing in a
variety of historical settings, for example in terms of the relationship between
genre, language, and writing material. In turn, the example of the Ur-Uruk region
outlined above also reinforces how crucial it is to complement these types of
macro-analyses with an in-depth view of the evidence at hand. Thus, combining
metadata distribution with archaeological survey data through geolocation can of-
fer further insights on the broader patterns that can be observed at the intersection
between material culture and texts and open up new avenues for further research.
Bibliography
Campbell, S. / Moon, J. / Killick, R. / Calderbank, D. / Robson, E. / Shepperson,
M. / Slater, F., 2017: “Tell Khaiber: An Administrative Centre of the Sealand
Period 1.” Iraq 79, 21–46.
Cristofani, M. / Fronzaroli, P., 1971: “Un’iscrizione cuneiforme su un vaso bron-
zeo da una tomba di Faleri.” Studi Etruschi 39, 313–331.
Edzard, D. O., 1980: “Keilschrift”. Reallexikon der Assyriologie und Vorderasi-
atischen Archäologie 5, 544–568.
Goodchild, M. F., 2007: “Citizens as Sensors: The World of Volunteered Geog-
raphy”. GeoJournal 69 (4): 211–221. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10708–007–
9111–y.
Hulin, P., 1954: “The Signs on the Kabul Silver Piece”. The Numismatic Chroni-
cle and Journal of the Royal Numismatic Society 14 (44), 174–176.
Michaélidis, G., 1943: “Quelques objets inédits d’époque Perse”. Annales du Ser-
vice des Antiquités de l’Égypte 43, 91–103.
Peust, C., 2000: “Über ägyptische Lexikographie”. Lingua Aegyptia 7: 254–260.
Rattenborg, R. / Johansson, C. / Nett, S. / Smidt, G. R. / Andersson, J., 2021a:
“An Open Access Index for the Geographical Distribution of the Cuneiform
Corpus”. Cuneiform Digital Library Journal 2021 (1): 1–12.
— 2021b. “Cuneiform Inscriptions Geographical Site Index (CIGS)”. Zenodo
[data set]. https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.4960710.
Sallaberger, W. / Schrakamp, I., (eds.), 2015: Associated Regional Chronologies
for the Ancient Near East and the Eastern Mediterranean. Vol. III: History &
Philology. Turnhout.
506 Seraina Nett / Gustav Ryberg Smidt / Carolin Johansson / Rune Rattenborg
*
Luca Peyronel (LP), Università degli Studi di Milano; Tatiana Pedrazzi (TP), Istituto di
Scienze del Patrimonio Culturale, CNR, Milano; Stefano Anastasio (SA), Ministero della
Cultura; Elena Devecchi (ED), Università degli Studi di Torino; Silvana Di Paolo (SDP),
Istituto di Scienze del Patrimonio Culturale, CNR, Roma; Stefania Ermidoro (SE), Istituto
di Scienze del Patrimonio Culturale, CNR, Roma; Valentina Oselini (VO), Università
degli Studi di Milano; Irene Rossi (IR), Istituto di Scienze del Patrimonio Culturale, CNR,
Milano.
1
The chronological and geographical span considered by ArCOA ranges between prehis-
tory and the beginning of the Hellenistic period in south-western Asia and in the Eastern
Mediterranean, with a macro-regional distinction between Cyprus, Northern and Southern
Levant, Anatolia, Mesopotamia, Iran, and the Arabian Peninsula.
508 Luca Peyronel et al.
archive: (a) it must be kept in a place in the Italian territory and it must be under
the national administration and subject to the Italian law; (b) it must be stored in
public museums and institutions; (c) if a collection is property of a private insti-
tution, it is included only if it is accessible for scientific research and public frui-
tion.2 Regarding collections in public museums, a threefold distinction is adopted:
national, regional and municipal museums, according to the state of cultural her-
itage.3 Permanent exhibitions of materials in university museums, other institu-
tions, companies and foundations – both of public, private or mixed status – are
also surveyed and included in the archive. A separate case concerns the category
of artefacts belonging to ecclesiastical property: in particular, with regards to the
property of the Catholic Church, which is certainly the most numerically signifi-
cant on Italian territory, the State exercises protection, but the activities of valor-
isation and promotion are regulated by specific agreements between the Ministry
of Culture (MiC) and the Italian Episcopal Conference (CEI).4 Concretely, this is
also reflected in the cataloguing and accessibility aspects of these assets, so much
as to justify their specific identification within the database.5
In general, artefacts that reached Italy after the 1980s are included only if their
acquisition can be traced by clearly demonstrating their provenance from previous
collections legally declared. At the present state of the project, personal collec-
tions have also been excluded from the Database, and only donations to public
instituitons have been selected and catalogued.6 However, the ArCOA project
2
According to these criteria, some collections have been so far excluded, such as the
Ligabue collection (Fales, 1989; Favaro, 2017) and two ample collections of cuneiform
tablets and cylinder seals kept in catholic institutions: the Pontificio Istituto Biblico (van
Buren, 1940; Westenholz, 1975; Cagni, 1976; Mayer, 2005) and the Università Pontificia
Salesiana (Archi / Pomponio, 1981), even if they are known through publications and
catalogues.
3
On the administrative organisation of the cultural heritage and the new assessment of the
Ministry of Culture – as resulted from the legislative reform implemented in Italy between
2014 and 2017 – see Barbati et al., 2017.
4
In 2020, 262 museum collections belonging to ecclesiastical institutions were listed in
the report released by the Italian National Institute of Statistics: ISTAT 2022 (the 2021’s
census is currently in progress; www.istat.it). The ancient Near Eastern antiquities of the
Musei Vaticani and those kept in the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana are not considered in
the project, as they belong to the public museums of the Vatican City State: Vattuone in
Dolce / Nota Santi, 1995: 318–323; Amenta, 2009; Amenta et al., 2022.
5
Chizzoniti / Fumagalli Carulli, 2008; on the legislative sector related with the
ecclesiastical goods, Roccella 2006. Data derived from the registering of catholic dioceses’
cultural heritage in Italy can be gathered from the constantly updated web portal BeWeB
(https://beweb.chiesacattolica.it/).
6
The Michail collection is one of the largest in Italy, including 81 cuneiform tablets,
several inscribed artefacts and sealings (Pettinato, 1997). The relevant Sinopoli collection
includes several Mesopotamian sculptures, cylinder seals, foundation clay cones, and one
ArCOA Project 509
reports the presence of ancient Near Eastern materials in the country, monitoring
the current situation, especially in relation with the strong increase in trafficking
of antiquities from lootings and illegal activities in Near Eastern countries during
the last two decades. Cooperation with the authorities in charge of cultural heri-
tage is also active by reporting the existence of private collections in which arte-
facts coming from the Near East are kept.
Data are filed in English, and the protocol includes the autoptic inspection of
the artefacts to verify and integrate what is already available in publications and
in the museum’s sheets and the acquisition of images and 3D models. The digital
archive has been created by the CNR’s ArCOA team and it is a relational database
hosted at the CNR (§2).
The second goal consists of making the public aware of the cultural heritage
and the ancient civilizations of the Near East by communicating to a wider audi-
ence the objects, the stories of the collections, the personages involved in the ac-
quisition, the documents attesting the routes and travels in the Near Eastern coun-
tries, the sites and their context of provenance. The ArCOA website has been de-
signed and will be online in 2024, giving the opportunity to interact with the Da-
tabase and offering a user-friendly interface with textual information written ac-
cording to storytelling principles, 3D models of the artefacts, a web-GIS to ex-
plore the collections in Italy and the ancient centers of the Near East.
The third goal is to build a network of researchers, institutions and associations
interested in the communication and enhancement of the collections to realize ac-
tivities of public engagement and inclusive participation.7
Neo-Assyrian relief (Biga, 2012; Dolce, 2012; a complete catalogue of the artefacts is
currently in preparation by M. G. Biga and R. Dolce). After Giuseppe Sinopoli passed
away in 2001 the Ministry of Culture acquired the collection, and the Greek pieces are
permanently displayed in the Museo Aristaios located inside the Auditorium – Parco della
Musica of Rome. As correctly pointed out by Ermidoro (2011) who has listed several
private Italian collections, the nature itself of this kind of collections (the artefacts are
usually not accessible, the number of artefacts can easily increase or decrease, only a part
of the artefacts are declared by the owners, the origin of the pieces cannot be verified to
exclude their provenance from trafficking) make mandatory their exclusion from the
digital archive, according with the ethical principles adopted by the ArCOA project.
7
The formal adhesions and the successful cooperation in the project by the two museum
institutions hosting the largest collections of ancient artefacts from Western Asia – the
Museo di Antichità – Musei Reali di Torino and the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di
Firenze – clearly testify for the strong commitment of the Ministry of Culture towards an
enhancement of these collections, recognizing their potential as a powerful means to
strengthen cultural dialogue. The cooperation with the Musei Reali di Torino has been
included in a former agreement already signed by the University of Turin and the Musei
Reali di Torino (2019). The Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Firenze is a partner of the
ArCOA project through a specific agreement (June 2021) signed by the Direzione
510 Luca Peyronel et al.
Regionale per i Musei della Toscana, the CNR-ISPC and the Università degli Studi di
Milano.
8
https://mariadb.com/products/community-server/.
9
https://laravel.com/.
10
https://arcoa.cnr.it/.
ArCOA Project 511
ied, or deleted, depending on the specific role of the user and the associated rights.
A search functionality provides parameters on which to filter the records of an
entity, based on the AND logic operator on all the specific fields of that entity.
The central entity of the ArCOA digital archive model is the single object – be
it an uninscribed or inscribed piece – preserved in an Italian institution. We can
consider as a case study the bricks stamped with cuneiform inscriptions of
different Mesopotamian kings, which constitute a common class of inscribed ob-
jects in Italian collections. A list of bricks recorded in the archive can be retrieved
by performing a search of object records by the object class field: the bricks are
indexed under the term ‘Building elements’. In the list returned by the query, two
bricks appear to be related to the conservation place Museo Archeologico Na-
zionale di Venezia. Both bricks are inscribed with cuneiform inscriptions of Neb-
uchadnezzar II. The material, chronological, and contextual features of these
pieces are recorded as structured metadata in the fields of the relevant object card,
feeding the queries (Fig. 2). Attention is paid also to the textual features of the
bricks, allowing to record script, language, genre and epigraphic sigla. Moreover,
a description field allows to discursively describe the item and provide insights
on specific aspects, such as – for inscribed records – on textual features and
translation. Dedicated fields were also envisaged to host external matches point-
ing to other projects describing the same item, which may complement and enrich
512 Luca Peyronel et al.
the ArCOA record and increase its interconnections within the digital ecosystem.
For the Cuneiform materials, for instance, links will be provided with web ar-
chives of Mesopotamian texts such as Oracc11 and CDLI.12
Fig. 2: ArCOA digital archive, main data of an object record (Venezia Archeologico
Inv. Corr-51). ©ArCOA.
Inside the Archive, the Object can be related with other entities’ records which
complete its description. Central to the ArCOA project’s aims is the relation with
the institution hosting the piece (Conservation Place) and with the historical col-
lections of which the piece is or was part (Collection): their study is especially
interesting for their formation history, involving the figures of the collectors who
originally brought the pieces to Italy or subsequently acquired them (Collector).
The acknowledgement of the provenance of the piece (when known) as a related
Site record, allows to detail the ‘journey’ of the object until its current location. In
addition to secondary literature (Bibliography), archival sources (Document) are
recorded in the archive, being a core element of ArCOA together with the Object,
as the title of the project shows. Such documents provide first-hand information
on the objects and on the history of collections’ formation.
For instance, the two bricks with cuneiform inscriptions described above rep-
resent tangible proofs of the work and discoveries of Austen Henry Layard, who
uncovered Nimrud and made some of the most extraordinary discoveries in Nine-
veh. The two bricks were destined in 1891 to the Civico Museo Correr and are
now displayed in the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Venezia (Fig. 3).
11
Open Richly Annotated Cuneiform Corpus (http://oracc.museum.upenn.edu/).
12
Cuneiform Digital Library Initiative (https://cdli.ucla.edu/).
ArCOA Project 513
In the ArCOA database, the specimens have been connected to the collector
Austen Henry Layard and to his previous collection, as well as to the documents
that allow us to retrace the modern journey of these materials, from the moment
of their shipment from Layard’s residence in London to Venezia, to their acquisi-
tion and the management of the practical issues related to their exhibition. Indeed,
Layard’s gifts were on public display in the Correr Museum ever since 1899. In
1939, following ‘friendly negotiations’, they were placed in the Museo Archeo-
logico Nazionale to unite in a single location all the archaeological collections
kept in the city of Venezia. The documents that bear witness to these occurrences
are kept today in the Museo Correr. They are included in the ArCOA archive,
appearing with a description related to the entire dossier. Through the bibli-
ography related to this entry, the user may find an article that provides a full con-
514 Luca Peyronel et al.
textualization of the bricks and of the related documents. Moreover, the latter can
also be found as images.13
The relevance of visual materials (Images and 3D models) is evident as
ArCOA is committed, as extensively as possible, to the autoptic check of the
archaeological pieces and documents preserved in Italian institutions and their
photographic documentation, also in the form of 3D models and RTI images, to
support the scientific study as well as to engage the general public with virtual
fruition experiences. The ArCOA Project has initiated a campaign of 3D scanning
and modelling carried out by Daniele Bursich on the most significant objects. The
archive stores the metadata of the 3D model and the link to the location where the
model can be accessed.
The general data about the collections were organised in the ArCOA GIS,
based on the open-source Quantum GIS system (QGIS), continuously updated
and integrated, in step with the compilation of the ArCOA digital archive, allow-
ing for the realisation of thematic and distribution maps that can be used also on
the website. One shapefile layer is related with the geolocated conservation
places, standardised in a WGS 84 / UTM zone 33N reference system. The insti-
tutions have a specific ID number and a nickname. Data in the attribute table in-
cludes geographical information (city and coordinates), the categories, the total
amount of artefacts in each collection, and the number of objects by classes, fol-
lowing the list on the digital archive (written objects, cuneiform tablets, inscribed
bricks, other inscribed objects, glyptic, pottery, terracotta figurines, etc.). The var-
ious Object classes can be filtered to produce ad hoc thematic maps, both on a
national and regional scale, considering the proposed case studies. Moreover, fur-
ther point and polygon shapefiles corresponding to the sites and regions of prov-
enance allow to correlate the artefacts kept in the Italian collections with the orig-
inal provenance.
The information and visual material collected in the digital archive will be
accessible on the ArCOA website, which is under construction by the Università
degli Studi di Milano team member Daniele Bursich. To allow this, the ArCOA
digital archive, which has been developed by and is hosted by the CNR, will
integrate an API service for automatic querying of the database, which will
provide the dissemination web portal with the data recorded. At the same time,
the individual records will be openly consultable via their URIs on the public web
pages of the archive itself and will be also exposed in a dedicated OAI-PMH
repository. The website, intended in English and Italian, consists of four inter-
related paths: the Homepage, the Conservation Places, the Collections and the
Collectors, linked to specific pages and insights. The GIS also will be accessible
from the website as a web-GIS interactive map, where visitors can view the
13
This case-study paragraph is authored by Stefania Ermidoro (cf. Ermidoro, 2020).
ArCOA Project 515
14
https://www.zotero.org/.
15
Di Paolo, 2005; 2012. The survey of S. Ermidoro was based on her dissertation on
cuneiform documents in Italy discussed in 2008 at the University of Venice: Ermidoro,
2011.
16
In the current census several university collections that include artefacts coming from
archaeological excavations carried out during the last century have not been considered.
They are mostly formed by pottery sherds, lithics, a few other small finds and often also
by replicas of original pieces used for didactic purposes. At this phase of the Project, only
some university museums in which Near Eastern artefacts are available for public fruition
were inserted in the digital archive, such as the Museo del Vicino Oriente Egitto e
Mediterraneo of the Sapienza Università di Roma: Nigro, 2015.
17
However, a systematic survey of museums in some regions of southern Italy has been
planned in 2023, and it cannot be excluded that some other small collections could be
identified.
516 Luca Peyronel et al.
Fig. 4: Distribution map of the Italian institutions where collections are hosted. Map by V.
Oselini with QGIS, ©ArCOA. Base map: ESRI World Physical Map, March 2019 (ob-
tained through QuickMapServices QGIS plugin).
Fig. 5: Distribution and quantification map of the Near Eastern archaeological materials
hosted in Italian institutions. Map by V. Oselini with QGIS, ©ArCOA. Base map: ESRI
World Physical Map, March 2019 (obtained through QuickMapServices QGIS plugin).
Their variety allows reconstructing the different phases of the formation of the
Near Eastern collections in Italy, as well as to trace interesting relations between
Italian voyagers, intellectuals, scientists, archaeologists and important foreign
personages involved in the study of the ancient Near East. This aspect is
ArCOA Project 517
particularly relevant for the ArCOA project, since the approach chosen for the
communication of the collections privileges a dynamic narrative which aims at
highlighting ties between artefacts, museums, places of origin, and personages.
The key concept in the valorisation process is the emphasis on the ‘journey’ of
people and things and the ‘relations’ established with the ancient Near Eastern
civilizations, through the acquisition, study and dissemination of materials arrived
on Italian territory.
The lack of any direct investigations by Italian expeditions in Mesopotamia
before World War II, with the only exception of the Missione Archeologica in
Mesopotamia directed by Giuseppe Furlani and Doro Levi, who carried out a sin-
gle-year campaign (1933) at Shemomok/Shamamuk in the Erbil plain, prevented
the formation of large museum collections of Near Eastern artefacts, as happened
in France, Great Britain, Germany and the United States.18 In fact, Italy did not
participate in the process of appropriation of artefacts and artworks that charac-
terizes the pioneering archaeological research of the 19th century, and it was not
involved in the post-World War I phase of protectorates when the European and
American museums and institutions obtained a wealth of archaeological materials
through the partition system of findings. However, minor streams of mainly Mes-
opotamian artefacts reached Italy through donations and the flourishing antiquity
market characterizing the period before and in-between the two World Wars.19
The discoveries of the great Neo-Assyrian capitals and Sumerian civilisation
led to the acquisition of objects from the contemporary and stunning excavations,
directly in the territory of provenance or through exchanges, gifts and purchases
on the European antiquity market. With the beginnings of the 20th century and
until the late 1960s, thanks to the spread of the scientific method and stratigraphic
excavation, the perspective and way of acquiring archaeological material from
ongoing excavations changed. European institutions put more emphasis on the
rediscovery of ancient civilisations and the exhibition of objects representing
them. Therefore, also the Italian collections associated with scientific investiga-
tions in the field, as is the case of the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Firenze
and the Museo delle Civiltà – Sezione Giuseppe Tucci di Roma, increased. More-
over, the development of disciplines of ancient oriental studies in several univer-
sities enlarged the incoming flow of imported materials for teaching purposes and
the consequent creation of proper university museum collections.
During this period, the religious institutions collected many objects as well,
especially from the ‘lands of the Bible’, with the aim of growing historical-reli-
18
Furlani, 1934a; 1934b; Anastasio, 2008. The materials taken to Italy from Qasr Shema-
mok, according to the partition allowed at that time, are kept in the Museo Archeologico
Nazionale di Firenze and have been studied and published by Anastasio et al., 2012.
19
Di Paolo, 2005; 2012. See also Ermidoro, 2011, specifically on the cuneiform docu-
ments.
518 Luca Peyronel et al.
gious studies and analysing ethnocultural phenomena related to the Christian and
Catholic spheres.20 Some collections formed as early as the beginning of the 20th
century have specific themes, as in the case of the Museo Internazionale delle
Ceramiche (MIC) in Faenza, which focuses specifically on pottery and is the re-
sult of donations and exchanges between Italian, European and extra-European
museums.21 Finally, donations by private citizens who, prior to the legislation in
force at the present time, legally acquired various types of materials from the Near
Eastern regions, constitute a part, albeit a minority, of current museum exhibi-
tions.22
Fig. 6: Distribution and quantification map of cuneiform tablets housed in Italian institu-
tions. Map by V. Oselini with QGIS, ©ArCOA. Base map: ESRI World Physical Map,
March 2019 (obtained through QuickMapServices QGIS plugin).
The largest collections in Italy, consisting of more than 700 items, originated
in the first half of the 20th century. Specifically, they are the oriental collections
at the Museo di Antichità in Torino and at the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di
Firenze, respectively related to the formation of the Museo di Antichità e Egizio
20
I.e. the Pontificio Istituto Biblico in Rome, the Musei Vaticani, and minor institutions,
such as the Santuario e Museo di Maria SS. dell’Oriente in Tagliacozzo, which nowadays
is a Municipal museum, or the Monastero della Congregazione Mechitarista dei Padri
Armeni in S. Lazzaro near Venice (Di Paolo, 2005: 148–150).
21
https://www.micfaenza.org/en/; see also Anastasio et al., 2020.
22
For instance: Garovaglio collection at Civico Museo Archeologico Paolo Giovio di
Como (Uboldi / Meda Riquier, 2010); Sissa collection at Museo Civico di Palazzo Te di
Mantova (Giovetti, 2000); Barracco collection at Museo Barracco, Roma (Biga et al.,
1996).
ArCOA Project 519
Fig. 7: Distribution and quantification map of inscribed bricks hosted in Italian institutions.
Map by V. Oselini with QGIS, ©ArCOA. Base map: ESRI World Physical Map, March
2019 (obtained through QuickMapServices QGIS plugin).
23
Dolce / Nota Santi, 1995. Museo di Antichità (Musei Reali) di Torino, Museo Archeo-
logico Nazionale di Venezia; Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Firenze; Museo Civico di
Archeologia Ligure di Genova; Civico Museo Archeologico Paolo Giovio di Como;
Museo Barracco in Roma; Museo Diocesano di Santo Stefano al Ponte in Firenze; several
reliefs and fragments of Assyrian inscriptions are also collected in the Musei Vaticani.
520 Luca Peyronel et al.
24
The copies have been recently shown in the 2019 exhibition ‘Gli Assiri all’ombra del
Vesuvio’: Graziani, 2019.
25
This category is presented by Silvana Di Paolo in §5.
26
Anastasio et al., 2020; Torcia Rigillo, 1999.
27
Anastasio, 2008: 561–563.
28
Di Paolo, 2005: 147. Now Museo delle Civiltà – Collezione Arte Orientale “Giuseppe
Tucci”.
29
A hundred ceramics from Troy are preserved at the Museo Pigorini, Roma (Di Paolo,
2005: 143–144). More than thirty vessels constitute the Sissa collection in the Museo
Civico di Palazzo Te, Mantova (Giovetti, 2000). Some pottery from Bab edh-Dhra’ is at
the Museo del santuario di Santa Maria, Tagliacozzo (Di Paolo, 2001). A group of ten
Anatolian vessels in the private Museo del Vino in Torgiano, near Perugia (Uncini, 1991);
Urartian juglets, a bowl and a pot, two 3rd-millennium painted jars from Iran and a 3rd-
millennium jar from the Levantine area are in the Monastero of S. Lazzaro in Venezia
(Morandi, 2003); two small collections are at the Museo dell’Olivo di Imperia, and at the
Museo Archeologico di Voghiera (Di Paolo, 2005: 152–153).
ArCOA Project 521
Fig. 8: Distribution and quantification map of cylinder and stamp seals hosted in Italian
institutions. Map by V. Oselini with QGIS, ©ArCOA. Base map: ESRI World Physical
Map, March 2019 (obtained through QuickMapServices QGIS plugin).
Fig. 9: Distribution and quantification map of the clay figurines hosted in Italian institu-
tions. Map by V. Oselini with QGIS, ©ArCOA. Base map: ESRI World Imagery Map,
data July 2022 (obtained through QuickMapServices QGIS plugin).
522 Luca Peyronel et al.
30
See Ermidoro, 2020 for an example of recent research into the acquisition history of the
Neo-Babylonian and Neo-Assyrian bricks kept in the Museo Archeologico and in the
Archivio di Stato in Venezia.
31
Catagnoti, 2022; see also Bramanti, 2017.
32
Editio princeps in Boson, 1936.
33
See Giusfredi / Spada, 2018: 148, which also provides a new edition of the only Old
Babylonian tablet belonging to the collection.
34
Basello, 2013; see also Mayer, 2012 for the edition of a sealed Nuzi document and of a
Middle Babylonian administrative text, and Bramanti, 2015 for a general overview of the
collection and the edition of a Neo-Babylonian brick.
ArCOA Project 523
Finally, the collection of the Musei Reali di Torino was thoroughly restored
and catalogued in view of the opening of a new archaeological gallery, inaugu-
rated in February 2022 (see below §6.1).
In addition to this, it should be noted that since 2011 the total number of Italian
public institutions housing materials with cuneiform inscriptions has been en-
riched thanks to donations of private collectors.
In 2014, the Museo Archeologico Regionale di Aosta received from Aurelio
Carugo a collection of Egyptian and Mesopotamian artefacts, including six cunei-
form tablets, that were previously kept in Ivrea and are now on display in a room
named after the donor.35
In 2017, the Museo Civico Archeologico di Bologna received a collection that
previously belonged to Monsignor Nevio Ancarani and is currently being studied
by a team coordinated by Nicolò Marchetti and Gianni Marchesi. It includes cu-
neiform tablets (administrative and legal texts, letters, and scribal exercises) and
clay cones, dating from the pre-Sargonic until the Achaemenid period.
Finally, the small corpus of Elamite bricks kept in Italian museums has been
increased thanks to Carla Maria Burri’s legacy to the Museo Civico di Crema e
del Cremasco36 and a donation by the late Egyptologist Edda Bresciani to the
Museo Orientale Umberto Scerrato di Napoli.37 Both donated respectively three
and one Middle Elamite bricks bearing different inscriptions of king Untaš-Na-
piriša, that probably originated from the ziggurat of Tchogha Zanbil.
As of today, it is planned to enter in the database materials from 32 collections,
for a total of more than two thousand objects divided between tablets, bricks,
cones, and fragments of other inscribed items (Figs. 6–7). The collections are lo-
cated in 12 different regions across Italy, mostly in the North: the most repre-
sented region is Lombardy, with eight collections in five different cities. There
are only two public collections in Southern Italy: one in the Museo Orientale Um-
berto Scerrato di Napoli and another in the Università di Messina. Although these
texts cover a very broad chronological span, ranging from the proto-cuneiform
texts of the 4th millennium BCE to the Seleucid period, the Third Dynasty of Ur
is the best represented historical period in Italian collections. As for their prove-
nance, the epigraphic materials held in Italian public collections may be ascribed
to all regions of ancient Mesopotamia, having been written in cities of the South-
ern alluvium, Babylonia and Assyria; the presence of a small corpus of inscribed
objects from Elam is also noticeable. Regarding the represented typologies, the
Italian collections include mostly archival texts, but royal inscriptions written on
35
Ronc et al., 2011; three Ur III tablets now in Aosta have been studied by F. Pomponio
(2011 and 2013) when they still belonged to the Carugo collection in Ivrea.
36
Basello, 2016; Civitillo, 2017.
37
Caterina, 2018: 4; Basello, 2018.
524 Luca Peyronel et al.
various types of supports (bricks, cones, and fragments of alabaster slabs) are also
rather well represented.
ED / SE
38
All types of sealings are not treated in this article. However, they will be included in the
Digital archive ArCOA.
39
As a Syrian hematite cylinder seal uncovered within a Late Roman tomb located in the
area of Basilica dei Santi Felice e Fortunato in Vicenza and now in the Museo Archeolo-
gico Nazionale di Firenze (Felli, 2013: 329–330) or the Mesopotamian specimen dating to
Akkadian/Post-Akkadian period found within a reliquary (14th–15th century) of the
Treasure of the Cappella Palatina at Palermo (Rocco, 1980–81: 259–274; Rocco, 1981:
237–240; Purpura, 1986: 45–56).
40
Fossing, 1929: pl. I:1; Di Paolo, 2012: 29–30, fig. 7. The seal (Inv. No. I1694) is online
on the website of the Thorvaldsens Museum at Copenhagen: https://kataloget.thorvaldsens
museum.dk/I1694.
41
Nicolini, 1984: 28.
ArCOA Project 525
Te only hosts a few specimens of his large collection of cylinder and stamp seals.42
A Neo-Babylonian quartz seal with a banquet scene is hosted in the Monastero
Mechitarista di San Lazzaro degli Armeni, a small island in the Venetian lagoon.43
A Common Style seal of faience, part of the Egyptian collection of the Marquis
Malaspina di Sannazzaro, is currently in the Musei Civici of Pavia.44
The oldest collections of seals were formed between the 19th and the first half
of the 20th century. Information on the acquisition of sixteen seals belonging to
Alfonso Garovaglio (1820–1905) and now kept in the Museo Civico Archeolog-
ico Paolo Giovio at Como is scanty. He purchased a group of stones on the an-
tiques market at Baghdad during his travel to Mesopotamia in 1887, as recorded
in the letters to his daughter.45 However, it is possible that some seals were already
part of his collection.46 The materials were preliminary published in 1909;47 most
are dated between the Early Dynastic and the Neo-Assyrian periods and include
Early Dynastic seals with contest scenes (Figurenband), several Old Babylonian
specimens, and one Mittani style cylinder seal. One Achaemenid and three Sasa-
nian stamp seals complete the group.48
One of the first collections of seals formed in Italy was purchased by the
Museo Archeologico Nazionale dell’Umbria at Perugia from Elisa Vincenti. In-
formation about the purchase date and provenance of the stones are unknown, but
the first notice of this successful acquisition dates to 1889.49 Unfortunately, this
material is still very little known to specialists, because when included in the larg-
est collection of Etruscan objects in Umbria, it represents an ‘anomaly’ in this
territory and was never sufficiently researched. According to Bruto Teloni who
published this collection in 1905, the lot consists of 50 stones and 17 modern
impressions, but it is uncertain whether the latter were obtained from the same
seals. Instead, the presence of ‘duplicates’ within this collection casts doubt on
the authenticity of some seals. The largest group consists of Old Babylonian seals
mostly made of iron oxides, and ten Neo-Assyrian and Achaemenid specimens,
including some conoid stamp seals.50
The collection of the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Firenze was formed
over a long period of time. 67 ancient Near Eastern cylinder (35) and stamp seals
(32) entered between 1897 and 1967, whereas four other seals are older acquisi-
42
Van Buren, 1959 studied 139 pieces, whereas a list of latest acquisitions (153 stones)
was added by Ugo Sissa himself.
43
Morandi Bonacossi, 2003: 79–87, figs. 57–59.
44
Stenico, 1957; Di Paolo, 1997.
45
Garovaglio, 1896: 181 and fn. 1.
46
Regazzoni, 1879: 63; Betti, 2007: 15–16.
47
Ballerini, 1909: 563–571.
48
Betti, 2010: 34–38.
49
Luppatelli, 1889: 40.
50
Teloni, 1905: 195–216, especially 196 and 206.
526 Luca Peyronel et al.
tions. The latter, already present in the large historical Medici and Lorena gem
collection and long preserved at the Uffizi, moved to the Museo Archeologico in
1870.51 The provenance of the material of Firenze is unknown. It was purchased
in different areas of the Mediterranean and Middle East, from Baghdad to Greece
(Corinth, Crete) and Alexandria of Egypt. However, it cannot be excluded that
some pieces, such as the Mittani style seal purchased at Crete, had already arrived
on the island in antiquity, being the most common class of imported Near Eastern
seals in the Aegean.52 The two larger groups of seals, acquired in 1897 from An-
tonio Dazzi and in 1930 from the Italian mission at Qasr Shamamuk, consist of
an equal number of seals (altogether 52): they include Uruk seal-amulets, Akka-
dian seals depicting mythological themes and ‘contest scenes’, 15 stones pertain-
ing to the Old Babylonian period with the usual theme of the seated deity facing
a frieze of worshippers, a small group of Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian
stones with fight and hunt scenes, and worship of divine symbols.53
In 1921 in Paris the famous Egyptologist Ernesto Schiaparelli and Father
Giustino Boson facilitated the purchase of an Iraqi physician’s collection of cu-
neiform tablets and cylinder seals by the Italian government. This lot of materials
includes a group of c. 40 cylinder seals that since 2010–2011 has been part of the
collections of the Museo di Antichità (Musei Reali) di Torino. The cylinders at
Torino (which also include some fakes) are mainly dated to the 3rd and 2nd mil-
lennium BCE.54
A glyptic collection specifically acquired for educational purposes in the
1960s is currently kept in the Museo Orientale Umberto Scerrato at Napoli (Fig.
10).
Fig. 10: Neo-Assyrian linear-style faience seal in the Museo Umberto Scerrato
di Napoli (MO276). 9th–8th century BCE.
51
Felli, 2013: 301–305.
52
See, lastly, Tabita, 2021: 16.
53
Felli, 2013: 311–356.
54
Bergamini, 1987.
ArCOA Project 527
This lot is formed by 31 specimens and includes both cylinder and stamp seals.
The former covers a broad chronological horizon and geographical distribution.
Several seals originally used throughout Mesopotamia are dated between the Ak-
kadian and Neo-Assyrian periods. Others refer to the Cappadocian and Elamite
styles. The stamp seals include Neo-Babylonian exemplars, and four Sasanian
specimens.55
Finally, two other groups of seals are kept in the Museo delle Civiltà-Sezione
Giuseppe Tucci and the Musei Capitolini di Roma. The first lot was acquired by
the Museo d’Arte Orientale as part of the wide collection of Japanese graphic art
owned by Salvatore Pugliatti (1903–1976), jurist, founder of the School of Civil
Law and Rector of the Università di Messina.56 The seals, covering a long period
of time, include some interesting pieces pertaining to the 3rd and 2nd millennium
BCE. For the second lot, the Musei Capitolini obtained a form of loan for use by
the Roman business family Santarelli, particularly active in the arts and enhance-
ment of the heritage of ancient Rome. The large Santarelli collection also consists
of 600 ancient gems,57 among which are twenty Mesopotamian seals, dated from
the 4th millennium BCE to the Sasanian period.58
Another well-represented category of artefacts is clay figurines, preserved
only in the public museums of Northern and Central Italy (Fig. 9). The former
macro area hosts two-thirds of the collections, distributed across four regions
(Valle d’Aosta, Lombardia, Veneto, and Emilia-Romagna), predominantly in
Lombardia: Milano, Civico Museo Archeologico; Biassono (in the province of
Monza and Brianza), Museo Civico Carlo Verri; Mantova, Museo Civico di Pa-
lazzo Te (see infra). In addition to these materials, there is also the only ancient
Near Eastern item that has been attached to the small Egyptian section of the
Museo di Archeologia at Pavia founded for educational purposes as a branch of
the local University since 193659 In Central Italy, the collections of the Museo
Archeologico Nazionale di Firenze and Museo delle Civiltà-Sezione Giuseppe
Tucci in Roma are notable not only for their typological variety of figurines, but
also for the provenance of several specimens from regular excavations in Syria
and Iran. The Museo in Firenze, for instance, preserves two zoomorphic figurines
recovered during the excavations carried out at Qasr Shamamuk (ancient Kilizu)
in Iraq in 1933 by the archaeological mission of the Università di Firenze, directed
by Giuseppe Furlani and Doro Levi, within a research program promoting the first
Italian excavations in Mesopotamia.60 The figurines belong to the lot of finds as-
55
Campurra Mazzoni, 1972; Graziani, 2018; Graziani, 2019: 225–232.
56
Mazzeo, 2010: 631–634.
57
Gallottini, 2012: 19––20.
58
Gallottini, 2012: 31–43.
59
Mora, 1984: 22–24; Di Paolo, 1997: 145–150.
60
Petricioli, 1990: 325–328.
528 Luca Peyronel et al.
61
Segret, 2012: 249.
62
Furlani, 1934a, c–d.
63
Ulivieri, 2012: 81.
64
Pecorella, 1984.
65
Ulivieri, 2012: 128, nos. 127–128.
66
D’Amore, 1997: 102.
67
Tosi, 1968; 1969; 1983; Salvatori / Vidale, 1997; Sajjadi, 2003: 21 and fns. 2–3.
68
Valentini, 2013: 153.
69
Roßberger 2018: 526.
ArCOA Project 529
curved staffs, such as the ‘bull-eared’ deity and the ‘shrouded god’.70
Another small group of Mesopotamian figurines consisting of 18 specimens is
hosted at Mantova, in the Museo Civico di Palazzo Te. They were part of the
collection of Ugo Sissa and cover a time span from the end of the 5th millennium
BCE to the Parthian period. The largest group (8 specimens) is dated to Ur III-
Old Babylonian period and includes an almost complete monovalve mould used
to produce serially ‘nude female’ plaques: only facial features, headdress and jew-
ellery (not showed in the mould) varied and probably were modelled by hand
before cooking.71 ‘Nude female’ plaques are present in this collection, as well as
hand-modelled versions. We would also like to mention three figurines crudely
modelled in the round assigned by Dominique Collon to the surface concentration
of human and animal figurines as well as inscribed bricks of Nazi-Maruttash II
uncovered by chance in 1945–1946 in a low mound c. 2 km north-west of the
main palace of Dūr-Kurigalzu.72 The presence of dedicatory inscriptions to Gula
on some of the figurines identify this area as a temple dedicated to the goddess,
only recently included in a detailed map of all excavated remains at Dūr-Ku-
rigalzu.73 The figurines at Mantova seem to share with all other specimens from
the Mesopotamian site the iconography of supplicants with hands on different
parts of their bodies (lower abdomen, leg). They were manufactured as part of the
petition for healing indicating the area of affliction with the hand position.74 The
explanation for the specific features of the Mantova figurines probably need fur-
ther investigation. However, during his stay in Iraq, U. Sissa visited ‘Aqar Quf,
taking 70 photos of the ziqqurat, brickworks, artefacts and local people.75 There-
fore, it cannot be ruled that the Italian architect picked up any of these figurines,
which were also found in other areas of the site.76
The more recent acquisitions (starting from the 1970s) are a group of figurines
produced in Syria but of unknown provenance (purchased on the antiques mar-
kets). Most of them, hosted in the Civico Museo Archeologico di Milano and the
Museo delle Civiltà-Sezione Giuseppe Tucci, have been studied and published.
The figurines are dated from the Early Bronze IV to the Persian period (c. 2500–
330 BCE), albeit with some gaps. The earliest specimens preserved at Milano fall
in the category of pillar-shaped anthropomorphic figurines of the Middle
Euphrates region, well-known from several specimens retrieved in regular exca-
70
Van Buren, 1930: 131–135, figs. 172–178, nos. 638, 643–644, 646, 649–652; Barrelet,
1968: 383, nos. 745, 747, 750, pl. XIII, LIII, LXXII.
71
Collon, 2000: no. 164. On some general aspects of the serial production, see Di Paolo,
2018: 48–55.
72
Collon, 2000: nos. 160, 165–170; Mustafa, 1947.
73
Clayden, 2017: 458, fig. 16.01 (T5).
74
Avalos, 1995: 209–210; Watanabe, 2017: 692.
75
Urru, 2018: 118, fn. 38; 244–273 (photos), nos. 975, 985.
76
Clayden, 2017: 466–467.
530 Luca Peyronel et al.
vations (Fig. 11). Most of the figurines at Milano have a pillar-shaped lower body,
a flattened upper body with well-defined shoulders, applied arms, decoration at
the neck, head covered with conical headdress or diadem and different hairstyles
(necktail, neckbun).77 The core region of this specific production is the Euphrates
valley between Tell Sweyhat and Tell Bi’a, but it shows connections with other
regions, such as the Northern Levant (Ebla, Hama), Jezirah (Tell Mozan) and oc-
casionally the Tigridian area (Assur).78
These figurines appear in levels dated to the second half of the 3rd millennium
BCE (Periods EME 4–5).79 The Middle Bronze figurines are uncommon in Italy.
A ram of the Carugo Collection in the Museo Archeologico Regionale di Aosta
was dated to the end of 3rd millennium BCE,80 but some specific features such as
the applied eyes encircling the horns and the presence of an applied and incised
band on the neck of the animal seem to indicate a date in the Middle Bronze age
I–II. Further studies are needed for the refinement of the chronology of this object.
The typical Middle Bronze I–II female figurines widely attested in the Northern
Levant, with flattened body, arms brought forward, a bird-like aspect and the
headdress stretched out in a comb-like shape, are represented by only one speci-
men in the Museo Civico Archeologico di Milano,81 in addition to the figurine in
the Museo of Archeologia di Pavia (see above).
77
Di Paolo, 1999: 34–38 (A1–8).
78
Sakal, 2015: 269–270 (Type MEFT A 02); Finkbeiner / Novak, 2015: 39–40 (EME 4–5).
79
For their absolute dating, see the Periodization Table referring to the comparative strati-
graphy at inter-regional level (ARCANE Project): http://www.arcane.uni-tuebingen.de/
EA-EM-EL_phasing_v5-4-6.pdf.
80
Ronc et al., 2011: 127, no. 7 (ibex).
81
Di Paolo, 1999: 52 (B1).
ArCOA Project 531
82
For this typology and its terminology, see Nunn, 2000: 42; Moorey, 2000: 469–486.
83
D’Amore, 1997: 107–108, fig. 4.
84
The cuneiform tablets and the other inscribed objects are edited in Archi / Pomponio,
1990; Archi et al., 1995; Archi et al., 1999; they are also available at https://cdli.ucla.
edu/collections/turin/turin_it.html. For the cylinder seals, see Bergamini, 1987. The As-
syrian reliefs have been the object of several publications: see e.g. Bergamini, 2011. For a
brief history of the acquisitions, see Bergamini, 1995.
85
Bergamini, 2011.
532 Luca Peyronel et al.
phased out of existence and its collections dispersed among several Italian
museums.
Fig. 13: Brick with stamped royal inscription of Nebuchadnezzar II (MAT 791) in the
Museo di Antichità – Musei Reali di Torino and the brick’s photogrammetry for the real-
ization of the 3D model by D. Bursich. ©ArCOA.
The Near Eastern items acquired through this exchange have been identified
with a stamped brick of Ur-Namma from Ur (MAT 788), a stamped brick of Sen-
nacherib from Nineveh (MAT 789), two stamped bricks of Nebuchadnezzar from
ArCOA Project 533
Babylon (MAT 791–792, Fig. 13), the head of a royal guardsman from Khorsa-
bad, and two cylinder seals (CGT 70020 and 70030).86
Despite being common artefacts in museums worldwide, the bricks of Ur-
Namma and Nebuchadnezzar now in Turin deserve a special mention in the
history of Near Eastern collections, since they might have entered the Kircher
Museum in a very early phase of its centuries-long history as gifts from an illus-
trious donor.87 In fact, it is possible that Kircher received them from Pietro Della
Valle, who travelled extensively in the Near East between 1614 and 1626, and
became one of the first Europeans to visit ancient sites such as Babylon, Ur,
Ctesiphon, and Persepolis. In his last book, Turris Babel, that appeared in 1679,
Kircher states that Della Valle gave him a specimen of the bricks he found in
Babylon’s ruins, which most likely was a brick of Nebuchadnezzar. Since Della
Valle collected an inscribed brick also during his visit to Ur, one may assume that
also Ur-Namma’s brick came into the holdings of the Kircher Museum as a gift
from the Roman nobleman. If this reconstruction is correct, the bricks of
Nebuchadnezzar and Ur-Namma now in the Museo di Antichità di Torino would
be among the first cuneiform objects ever seen in Europe, long before the kudurru
known as “caillou Michaux” arrived in Paris at the end of the 19th century.
The numerically most important acquisition facilitated by Schiaparelli took
place in 1921, when the Egyptian Museum bought a lot of 800 cuneiform tablets
(dating mainly to the Third Dynasty of Ur and stemming from the archives of
Umma and Puzriš-Dagan, with smaller groups of Old Akkadian and Old Babylo-
nian documents) and 50 cylinder seals on the antiquity market in Paris. The pur-
chase was arranged by Giustino Boson, one of the first Italian assyriologists, who
at that time was in Paris and acted as intermediary between the seller (a doctor
stemming from Baghdad) and Schiaparelli.88
All these objects remained for a long time inaccessible to the wider public.
After the collection was moved to the Museo di Antichità, the Assyrian reliefs
together with a small selection of tablets, bricks and seals were put on display, but
renovation works often prevented access to this part of the exhibition.
Finally, in February 2022, the museum inaugurated a new section devoted to
the historical archaeological collections, which also includes two rooms devoted
to the ancient Near East (Fig. 14). On this occasion, the whole collection was
thoroughly catalogued and restored, and a photographic campaign was under-
86
Bergamini, 1995: 316. The abbreviations MAT and CGT correspond respectively to the
publication numbers of the bricks in Archi et al., 1999 and of the cylinder seals in Ber-
gamini, 1987.
87
See Devecchi, 2022.
88
The history of this acquisition is currently being reconstructed by Elena Devecchi based
on unpublished archival records kept in the Archivio di Stato di Torino.
534 Luca Peyronel et al.
taken, partly conducted by Daniele Bursich on behalf of the ArCOA project, who
produced 3D models of a selected group of items (Fig. 13).
More than a century after Schiaparelli purchased the last important group of
Mesopotamian antiquities, the collection finally has the visibility and accessibility
it deserves, a big part of it being now freely accessible to visitors, students, and
scholars.
Fig. 14: The cuneiform tablets displayed in the Mesopotamian room of the new section
devoted to the historical archaeological collection in the Museo di Antichità – Musei Reali
di Torino.
89
As a starting point on the survey of Oriental collections in Italy, see Di Paolo, 2005. On
Near Eastern terracotta figurines in Lombardy, see Di Paolo, 1999.
ArCOA Project 535
lets), the Università del Sacro Cuore di Milano (72 tablets) and, finally, the Acca-
demia di Brera. At Como, the Civico Museo Archeologico Paolo Giovio houses
the Garovaglio collection; at Mantova, the Sissa Collection is in the Museo Civico
di Palazzo Te;90 at Pavia, the oriental artefacts are kept in the Civici Musei (one
seal) and in the Museo di Archeologia dell’Università (one figurine).91 Finally, at
Biassono (near Monza), four figurines, two oil-lamps and one tablet are today
stored in the Museo Civico Carlo Verri.92
Fig. 15: Map of the institutions hosting ANE materials in Lombardy. Map by V. Oselini
with QGIS, ©ArCOA. Base map: ESRI World Imagery Map, data July 2022 (obtained
through QuickMapServices QGIS plugin).
90
The Sissa collection includes ceramics, glyptics, lithic material, toreutics; a fragment of
an inscribed alabaster vase, seven tablets, a bulla, an inscribed brick.
91
Di Paolo, 1997.
92
Di Paolo, 2005.
93
Ballerini, 1909: 535–571; see also Betti, 2007; Bergamini, 2010.
536 Luca Peyronel et al.
fieldwork in the Lake Como area.94 Some of the Near Eastern artefacts in his
private collection were acquired during the journey that Garovaglio undertook to
Syria and Mesopotamia between the years 1886 and 1887. In 1869, he had already
made a trip to Syria, Palestine, and Egypt, but his travel across the Near East in
1886–1887 is the most important journey of his entire life.95 The traveller was
motivated by the desire to visit the places made famous by the excavations of
Paolo Emilio Botta and Henry Layard in the middle of the same century, although
he did not hesitate to express his frustration seeing the state to which the wall
reliefs were reduced.96 In that special occasion, Garovaglio also took the oppor-
tunity, given by the travel, to purchase archaeological artefacts for his private
collection, hosted in his villa in Loveno near Menaggio.
When Garovaglio died in 1904, the objects, passed by testamentary legacy to
the Civico Museo Archeologico di Como, inaugurated in 1878, which Garovaglio
himself had helped to promote. In his fabulous holiday residency at Loveno, he
had set up a small museum, with prehistoric, protohistoric, Phoenician, Etruscan,
Greek and Roman artefacts, as well as objects from ancient Egypt, including the
sarcophagus and mummy of Isiuret, priestess of the 22nd Dynasty. All these ob-
jects were moved to the Museum.
The different ways in which Garovaglio’s collection was constituted can be
illustrated by the case of the inscribed objects kept in the Museum, that is the
Nebuchadnezzar inscribed brick and the envelope, acquired at different times and
in different manners. Although Ballerini in his publication of 1909 states that both
items were purchased in Baghdad, we can reasonably assume that the Neo-
Babylonian inscribed brick must have already been part of the collection of
Loveno, at some time before Garovaglio’s journey to Syria and Mesopotamia. On
the other hand, the envelope, dated to the Old Babylonian period, was acquired
directly by the collector during his travel to Mesopotamia, probably in Baghdad
in March 1887, together with the cylinder seals also part of the collection kept in
the Civico Museo Archeologico Paolo Giovio di Como, as clearly demonstrated
by the letters written by Garovaglio to his daughter Adele (Fig. 16).
The circumstance is recalled in the archive documents, specifically in the let-
ters to his daughter Adele, published in a volume entitled Viaggio in Siria e Mes-
opotamia. Lettere Famigliari, published by the author in 1896, and reprinted in
2005.97 Indeed, in the letters referring to the visit to Baghdad, where he stayed for
a week, from March 25th to April 2nd, 1887, Garovaglio mentioned the Mesopo-
94
Uboldi / Meda Riquier, 2010.
95
Pedrazzi, 2010: 269–283; Uboldi, 2010: 234–267.
96
According to him, Nineveh was left with only the crumbs of Layard’s rich banquet
(“cadute dal sontuoso banchetto di Botta, Layard, Smith … imbandito in Europa”, Garo-
vaglio, 1896: 165).
97
Garovaglio, 1896.
ArCOA Project 537
In the same archive documents, Garovaglio also recalls the different ways in
which the two fragments of Assyrian reliefs in his collection were acquired. In
Baghdad, he received as a gift, from the French vice-consul Siouffi, the fragment
of a relief from the palace of Ashurbanipal in Nineveh, with a theory of guards,
as known from the letters to his daughter. On the other hand, the fragment of the
head of a slave carrying a weight from the palace of Sennacherib, was acquired
by Garovaglio in circumstances and at a time that are not clearly understood: the
fragment bears a dedication by Layard to his friend Giuseppe Molteni, dated Sep-
tember 27th 1864, when Molteni was the Director of the Brera Gallery; but we
ignore when this piece reached the Garovaglio’s collection in Loveno. Probably,
it happened before the trip to Mesopotamia in 1886–87, according to some refer-
ences in the letters.
A first noteworthy aspect concerns the legal status of the collection and of the
museum or institute that houses the collection: it is the legal status, in fact, that
usually determines how accessible the objects are to both specialists and the pub-
lic, due to the different purpose of the institutes.
In the case of Tuscany, two collections belong to State museums (the Museo
Archeologico Nazionale di Firenze and the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di
Arezzo), one collection belongs to an Ecclesiastical Museum and one to a Uni-
versity museum. The accessibility of these collections is indeed very different: the
objects in the State museums are on permanent display in the case of Arezzo,
where some South Arabian statuettes are exhibited. In the case of Florence, which
has a much richer and more assorted collection, the objects are not on permanent
display but have been temporarily exhibited on different occasions (in 1966, 2013,
and 2014), in addition to being published in complete catalogues and appearing,
as single or small groups of objects, in other exhibitions in the form of temporary
loans (recently, for example, in the exhibitions “From Assyria to Iberia” at the
New York MET in 2014/2015, and “Nineveh – Heart of an Ancient Empire” in
the Dutch National Museum of Antiquities of Leiden in 2018). All the artefacts
are also accessible on request to scholars in storage facilities.
The situation is different for the other two museums: an Assyrian relief and
two cuneiform inscriptions that belong to the ecclesiastical collection of the Flor-
ence Diocese are known in the literature, but have never been exhibited.98 The
same situation is repeated for the collection of the Museo di Antropologia
dell’Università di Firenze, where noteworthy Pre- and Protohistoric lithic indus-
tries from various Near Eastern regions, which were collected mostly during the
1930s, merged into the general “Collezione paletnologica” of the Museum, yet no
item has been exhibited or published so far. In this case, it should be noted that
the survey carried out for the ArCOA project has led to the ‘rediscovery’ of these
industries and to new attention by Museum staff towards this group of finds. Our
hope is that they will soon be studied and published.
The opportunity to have a single database that contains a consistent description
of collections that are so different in terms of accessibility will certainly be one of
the main project outcomes. The scientific community will thus be able to become
familiar with objects that, although already formally known because they have
been catalogued and, in some cases, published, have never been seen, not even by
specialists.
The particular case of the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Firenze deserves
special attention: the Museum has an important Near Eastern collection, both for
the intrinsic value of the artefacts and for its history. Indeed, the bulk of the col-
lection consists of the findings from the first Italian archaeological expedition to
98
The cuneiform inscriptions are displayed in https://beweb.chiesacattolica.it/, searching
for <tavoletta epigrafica> and <Firenze>.
ArCOA Project 539
Mesopotamia, namely the one led in 1933 by Furlani and Levi at the site of Qasr
Shamamuk, the Assyrian Kilizu, in Northern Iraq, as well as those collected by
the same expedition during a preliminary survey in Southern Iraq in 1930 (Fig.
17).
Other objects from Anatolia, Syria and Iran were added to these finds over
time, through donations and exchanges. All this has made the Florentine collec-
tion become extremely varied, both in terms of the type of materials, and of their
origin and chronology.99 All the finds have been catalogued and their publication
is almost complete (the last volume of the series dedicated to the “oriental collec-
tion” of the Museum, that is, the one on cuneiform documents, is currently in
progress) but the objects were exhibited only for a short period during the 1960s,
but they are currently not on display nor does the museum have an overall online
catalogue (this is a feature that distinguishes the majority of collections in Italian
state museums).
Fig. 17: The Assyrian necropolis of Qasr Shamamuk/Kilizu in a photo taken by Doro Levi
at the end of the 1933 campaign and a Neo-Assyrian glazed bottle from the excavations,
now at the Archaeological Museum of Florence (inv. 93789; courtesy of Direzione region-
ale musei della Toscana).
Cataloguing through the ArCOA project, therefore, will allow users to have an
updated and consistent database of the collection in a single repository, thus en-
suring its best use and accessibility, both for the public and, above all, for special-
ists.
ED / TP / SA
99
The collection has been published in two separate volumes, the first one focused on the
1930–1933 expedition (Anastasio / Conti / Ulivieri, 2012), and the second one dealing
with the material from different provenances (D’Agostino / Felli / Valentini, 2013).
540 Luca Peyronel et al.
100
Seitel, 2001. This concept was clarified as early as 1989, when the “Recommendation
on the Safeguarding of Traditional Culture and Folklore”, approved by the UNESCO
General Conference, highlighted the difference between the material and the immaterial
cultural heritage, recognising both as having an equal worth and value, as an expression
of cultural diversity, plurality, and the necessity of exchange to foster innovation and
creativity.
101
Montella et al., 2016. Signed in Faro, Portugal, by the Council of Europe, on 27 August
2005 (https://www.coe.int/en/web/venice/faro-convention), it has been ratified and the
execution of the framework convention approved by Italy only in 2020: https://www.
normattiva.it/uri-res/N2Ls?urn:nir:stato:legge:2020;133.
102
Di Paolo, 2012; Savino, 2017.
ArCOA Project 541
art merchants, diplomats, antiquarians, has very often represented the fertile
background from which some Italian local museum institutions, at least those of
medium or small size, have also originated. Therefore, familiarizing the public
with the different figures who concretely gave life to the collections also means
making the fruition of the artefacts more vivid: the original and ancient history of
the artefact is intertwined with the history of its acquisition, through the various
stages of the journey from the East to Italy, up to the current location of each
object.
And thirdly, revealing, enhancing, and disseminating this poorly known her-
itage to a wider public also enables the involvement of those communities and
social groups living in Italy but coming from the same regions of origin of the
artefacts.
Participatory valorisation can also be achieved through modern technologies,
which allow the creation of new forms of fruition and thus a wider and more wide-
spread accessibility of heritage. The construction of the data entry allowed us to
organise data into a coherent and functional system for the purposes of the project.
The three-dimensional restitution (through the realisation of 3D models) of some
of the most significant objects – including fragments of Assyrian reliefs, inscribed
bricks, and tablets – allows these finds to be enjoyed also by the public unable to
physically reach a certain museum. The 3D models, in fact, are gradually being
made available on the website under construction, which is intended to bring
together in one virtual place all the eastern collections scattered throughout Italy.
Through a web-GIS, the user of the website will be able to move through the
different Italian locations where the collections are now housed, but also through
the archaeological sites of origin of the artefacts, in the Near East.
The website, which will be available online as of 2024, will therefore allow a
real dissemination of knowledge of this “foreign” heritage, which, in spite of its
profound “cultural otherness”, is nevertheless very closely linked to the shared
Mediterranean cultural roots, and to the Italian cultural history of the last centu-
ries. Indeed, the sharing of this common heritage is made possible by emphasizing
the relations between Italian scholars and foreign colleagues, the history of the
journeys to Western Asia, the accounts and notebooks of travellers, and the de-
velopment of diplomatic relations.
If, on the one hand, the Near Eastern collections in Italy are obviously scat-
tered over the territory, located in small or large, central or peripheral museums,
on the other, new technologies and the resources of the virtual world allow us to
bring together the artefacts in a single unified Virtual Museum of the Ancient
Near East: seals, tablets, inscribed bricks, figurines, fragments of reliefs and other
objects, can be presented and narrated in a contextual and “choral” manner, with
attention to their reception by a wide audience in accordance with the principles
of storytelling. At the same time, this heritage can also be easily made available
and immediately accessible to scholars.
TP / LP
542 Luca Peyronel et al.
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News from Ashurbanipal’s Library
Babette Schnitzlein / Sophie Cohen
1. Introduction1
In the ruins of Nineveh, capital of King Ashurbanipal’s (668–631 BCE) empire,
a series of excavations since the mid-19th century brought to light around 32,000
tablets and fragments. While it has been estimated that this figure includes around
6,000 archival texts2 the bulk are manuscripts of scholarly texts. The collection is
curated almost in its entirety at the British Museum. It has been central to the
modern study of Assyrian and Babylonian scholarship for almost two centuries
now. Yet the sheer size and complexity of this corpus, together with uncertainties
generated by the shortcomings of the pioneering excavation techniques and mus-
eological practices, have hindered our understanding of what that collection of
scholarly texts actually represents. For while we now understand in detail partic-
ular texts or groups within the “Library”, we know very little about the Library
itself. The Research Project “Reading the Library of Ashurbanipal: A Multi-sec-
tional Analysis of Assyriology’s Foundational Corpus” – a collaboration between
the Ludwig-Maximillian University (Enrique Jiménez, Sophie Cohen, Ekaterine
Gogokhia and Mays al-Rawi) and the British Museum (Jon Taylor and Babette
Schnitzlein) – aims to tackle the problem through the analysis of the colophons.
What can they tell us about the size, content, structure, and acquisition/production
of the Library collection?
1
This research was undertaken within the DFG-AHRC-funded project, “Reading the Li-
brary of Ashurbanipal: A Multi-sectional Analysis of Assyriology’s Foundational Cor-
pus”. AH/T012773/1.
2
Parpola, 1987: XI. See also Parpola, 1986: 224 and Reade, 1998–2000: 421.
550 Babette Schnitzlein / Sophie Cohen
3. Our research
3.1 Approach
The “Reading the Library of Ashurbanipal” project aims to identify every colo-
phon in the Nineveh collection. These would be catalogued in a dedicated Fi-
lemaker database. Soon after the project began, Covid-19 restrictions were im-
posed, preventing access to the British Museum collection, and placing Taylor on
3
Streck, 1916: LXV–LXXXII. Subscripts p and w do not represent Ashurbanipal colo-
phons. The subscript p is a votive inscription to Nabû, which doesn’t name Ashurbanipal.
It is only attested with K.2873, which uses late Babylonian characters and turns like a
book. The latter indicates that it might be a school tablet. Subscript w mentions a date and
the name of two reporters, none of them being Ashurbanipal. It is written on the reverse
of K.102, a Neo-Assyrian extispicy query, compare for its edition Starr, 1990: no. 317.
4
See, e.g., Borger, 1970a; Borger, 1970b; Frahm, 2011: 133; Gabbay, 2014: 253, 276–
279.
5
See Frahm, 1999; Frahm, 2011: 265–267 and May, 2018.
6
Fincke 2004 and Fincke 2014.
News from Ashurbanipal’s Library 551
furlough. Work began with a preliminary list compiled by Taylor. This was then
augmented through examination of around 60 major text editions. The selection
consisted primarily of monographs on scholarly texts published after Hunger’s
1968 Babylonische und Assyrische Kolophone. In addition, a search for traces of
colophons was made among further newly transliterated fragments. The on-going
process will be completed by a systematic survey of all Library fragments. This
is made possible by use of the “electronic Babylonian Literature” (eBL) project
platform, which offers convenient access to cataloguing and bibliographic data,
transliterations of thousands of fragments, and images of all the fragments.7 High
resolution photographs of the Library texts had been produced during an earlier
phase of the British Museum’s “Ashurbanipal Library Project”. They are availa-
ble via the British Museum’s Collection Online8 and the eBL site.
7
https://www.ebl.lmu.de/.
8
https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection.
9
This echoes Bezold’s observation in 1899: xiii.
552 Babette Schnitzlein / Sophie Cohen
Alongside the display of well-preserved tablets, plans were made for a display
of tablets containing the Epic of Gilgamesh. The best-preserved examples of each
of the 12 tablets of Gilgamesh were selected. A few were well-preserved, but most
were not. Given how much effort has been put into identifying fragments of Gil-
gamesh for over a century, this is striking. While it remains possible that some
further fragments may be identified in the future, it seems very unlikely that
enough will be found to fill the substantial gaps in these tablets. Smith’s assump-
tion (Smith, 1875: 144) that less than half the Library had been recovered remains
plausible, even though the number of fragments excavated has more-or-less dou-
bled since his time. The same phenomenon can be observed in other tablets pre-
served in the Library. This is significant not only because it offers information
about what was found during the early excavations, but because we must factor
this into calculations of how many tablets are in the Library. When the fragments
are all finally re-joined, the result will not be complete tablets, as has long been
assumed. What was found was probably not the result of tablets breaking as they
fell to the floor, but something more complicated.10
10
See now George, 2020.
11
A given text composition/series would be written on several tablets, due to its length.
The tablet identification line refers to the present tablet itself, e.g. “nth tablet of composition
x”. The catch line quotes the first line of the next tablet in the sequence. Notes to the scribal
process offer information about the production of the tablet, such as “written and checked
according to its original”.
News from Ashurbanipal’s Library 553
pal states that these manuscripts were written in an assembly of scholars. The
absence of extra notes indicates that this claim should be taken seriously.
If there are no other elements of the colophon attested, the Ashurbanipal col-
ophon is written down some distance from the single or double ruling. Usually
the colophon is spaced, although counter-examples can be cited, e.g. K.163.
Rarely, Ashurbanipal colophons can even be inscribed on the lower/bottom edge,
e.g. 1882,0522.541. Spacing choice and placement may have depended on the
remaining room available on the tablet.
Some colophon types are attested very frequently, while others are found only
rarely. The distribution is summarised in the table above.
The most common type (301 examples) is Ashurbanipal colophon type a,
which can be attested with a variety of texts. Other colophon types display differ-
ent distributions. With Ashurbanipal colophon type b, about half of the respective
manuscripts are part of the corpus of extispicy, alongside a variety of smaller text
groups. Ashurbanipal colophon type d is an abbreviated form of Ashurbanipal
type c. A number of colophons (133) are fragmentarily preserved and could rep-
resent either Ashurbanipal colophon type c or d. Within this group, there are no
texts belonging to the corpus of extispicy. However, there is still a significant
difference between texts with Ashurbanipal colophon type c and d. Almost all
texts with Ashurbanipal type c are magical; meanwhile, the Ashurbanipal type d
magical texts are only one group among others. As explicit in its wording, Ash-
urbanipal colophon type l is found only with manuscripts belonging to the corpus
of extispicy.
Colophons with under 50 attestations are often linked to particular text groups.
Ashurbanipal colophon type g is connected to plant list Uruanna; type o to lamen-
tations and the catalogue of these texts;12 type q to the Nineveh Medical Encyclo-
paedia.13 Unicum Ashurbanipal colophon k is an extended version of established
Ashurbanipal colophon type k var. The latter is found with Enūma Anu Enlil com-
mentaries, and once with a Šumma Alu commentary.14 Some types can be com-
bined. Streck designated separate Ashurbanipal colophon type r (K.4986) and
Ashurbanipal colophon type s (Rm.129), noting that these were variants of each
other.15 Identifying further manuscripts with these colophon types, Borger postu-
lated that Ashurbanipal colophon type r und Ashurbanipal colophon type s are
identical.16 He assigned BAK 331 (Rm.447) to this type as well and offered a new
edition. BAK 342 (K.10269) is supposed to represent the same colophon type,
albeit with more titles of the king. Colophon type Asb r=s is often attested with
ritual text Bīt rimki. Colophon type v belongs to BAK 335, as Hunger17 and Stefan
Maul implied.18 All texts with this colophon type are Emesal texts. Both Ashur-
banipal colophon type r=s and type v are not as standardised as other types, such
as Ashurbanipal type q. With Ashurbanipal type v, the names of the gods men-
tioned can differ, probably in connection to the ones referred to in the main part
of the manuscript. The only difference between BAK 338 and BAK 339 is an
12
Compare Gabbay, 2014: 276.
13
Panayotov, 2018: 109 f.
14
Frahm, 2011: 133,276 f.
15
Streck, 1916: LXXXI.
16
Borger, 1970a: 168.
17
Hunger, 1968: 104 (BAK 335).
18
Maul, 1988: 126, 204.
News from Ashurbanipal’s Library 555
extra line in BAK 339.19 Colophons BAK338/339 mark tablets that belonged to
the Nabû-temple library. Tablets bearing this colophon contain a variety of text
compositions. Given the preservation of the fragments with BAK 338 and BAK
339, it has not been possible to identify a distinction between both groups in re-
gard to the attested text compositions.
The number of colophons attested only once or rarely is rather high. These do
not represent “types” in the same way as more commonly occurring colophons.
Nevertheless, Ashurbanipal colophons share textual elements, making them easily
recognisable, even when they can’t be assigned to a colophon type. Tablets be-
longing to some colophon types are similar in certain aspects, but differ in others.
To this group belong Ashurbanipal colophon types k, k var, i, BAK 324, 336, 337,
341, as well as non-standard colophons which can’t be identified with any of the
Ashurbanipal colophons established by Streck and Hunger. Ashurbanipal colo-
phon type k var is the only one within the group which we would call a proper
colophon type at the moment, because of the number of attestations. The similar-
ities between some subscripts suggests that they are based on a limited number of
main types, constructed from a vocabulary of established phrases. A revised ty-
pology of colophons is currently under construction.
Further deductions can be made from the evidence. Less well-attested types,
less-standardised ones, and singular ones, could indicate that the creation of new
colophon types was an ongoing process linked to the production of Library edi-
tions of certain texts. Probably, the bigger colophon types were established first
and with them certain rules, as suggested above.20
The colophon types o, BAK 338/339, n and further non-standard Ashurbanipal
colophons demonstrate the existence of a separate “library” in the Nabû-temple.
The distribution of the genres among the colophon types with more than 50 ex-
amples recorded (Ashurbanipal types a, b, c, d and l) might point toward sub-
collections within Ashurbanipal’s Library, something akin to reference libraries.
19
Borger, 1970b. With the line counting of BAK 338 it appears in the middle of line 18:
ú-ṣur kib-si-ia / la ba-še-e GIG-ia na-saḫ si-li-iʾ-ti-ía liš-šá-kin šap-tuk-ka / e-ma šip-ru šú-
a-tú.
20
Compare Taylor / Jiménez / Schnitzlein / Cohen, forthcoming.
556 Babette Schnitzlein / Sophie Cohen
The biggest private collection – currently including 123 tablets – stems from
the famous scribe, Nabû-zuqup-kēnu 760–680 BCE,21 whose texts according to
his colophons dated to 716–684 BCE, and were written in Kalḫu.22 It is the only
known private collection recovered at Nineveh that may have been stored there in
its entirety; none of his tablets have been found in Kalḫu.23 The number of Nabû-
zuqup-kēnu’s colophons stands in striking contrast to those of all the other attested
individuals. Among these is his grandson, Issar-šumu-ēreš,24 whose 9 colophons
form the next largest group. Of course, the picture is not as simple as it seems at
first glance. Nabû-zuqup-kēnu’s collection contained tablets that are written in
several hands.25 This signifies that his collection was either built up by different
individuals or just by him incorporating tablets written by multiple individuals.
Likewise, among Issar-šumu-ēreš’s colophons two tablets might have been writ-
ten by different scribes.26
As has already been seen from Nabû-zuqup-kēnu’s collection dating in the
reign of Sargon II and Sennacherib,27 not all tablets from Nineveh with private
colophons were written during Ashurbanipal’s reign. Only a small part of the col-
ophons is datable. Around 7 further tablets can be dated to Sennacherib (705–681
BCE), 2 to Sargon II (722–705 BCE), 1 to Ashur-nērari V (754–745 BCE), 1
possibly to Šalmaneser IV (782–773 BCE), 1 possibly to Ashurnaṣirpal II (883–
859 BCE) and 9 are middle Assyrian tablets, probably all written during the reign
of Tiglath-pileser I (1114–1076 BCE). It is noteworthy that none of the private
colophons date to Esarhaddon’s reign. When and how the older tablets entered
Ashurbanipal’s Library remains unclear. Nabû-zuqup-kēnu’s collection is be-
lieved to have been transferred by one of his descendants to Nineveh.28 Another
21
Hunger, 1998–2000: 34; Parpola, 1983a: XIX.
22
One of Nabû-zuqup-kēnu’s tablets (K.3460) mentions his father Marduk-šumu-iqīša as
ŠAMAN2.LA2 “apprentice” and might predate the other tablets.
23
Although it is possible that he had written many more tablets in his lifetime yet to be
found in the depth of the soil. A few tablets from Kalḫu mentioning his name can be asso-
ciated with his son Adad-šumu-uṣur, who held a high position as “exorcist” of the king at
the royal court in Nineveh. He left many letters in the royal correspondence of Nineveh;
see e.g. http://oracc.org/saao/corpus sub “Adad-šumu-uṣur” (accessed 16.02.2022).
24
A scribe active under Esarhaddon, becoming chief scribe of Ashurbanipal.
25
Tablets with distinctive handwritings are e.g. tablets copied from an original of the in-
dividuals LU2-IB-līa in 711 BC (= K.2692+, K.2678+, K.2683+, K.6348, K.8014, K.2690)
and a tablet copied by the hand/from an original of the Babylonian Nabû-nāṣir 694 BC
(K.75 + K.237). The second Babylonian tablet K.6075 that was attributed to Nabû-zuqup-
kēnu in the past didn’t preserve his name.
26
K.3054+ mentions a son of Šumu-libši in its notes to the scribal process and K.3877 is
written in Babylonian script. However, it cannot be completely ruled out that Ištar-šumu-
ēreš wrote the Babylonian tablet himself.
27
Compare footnote 5.
28
See Lieberman, 1987: 217; Frahm, 2011: 265.
News from Ashurbanipal’s Library 557
reason might be in Nabû-zuqup-kēnu’s case and for other private tablets the tablet
collecting activities of Ashurbanipal.29
Finally, it is likely that there will be several different answers to all the ques-
tions about the private colophons. Maybe some of them were used as models for
the creation of new tablets. Others might have been used as reference for the active
divination processes. This might be especially the case with the series Enūma Anu
Enlil that seems to have been imported on a larger scale.
4. Conclusions
The picture provided by the colophons of the Nineveh tablets turns out to be rather
complex. Some Library colophons were attached to specific kinds of text, while
others were attached more generally. There are colophons which are attested nu-
merous times, while others are singular. Yet, the sharing of certain phrases and
the fixed sequence of the extra elements point to the structured way they were
created. This can be brought in connection with the manuscripts they were ap-
pended to: if we consider some Ashurbanipal colophons to have been created later
than others, this would imply as well that certain manuscripts were written later
than others. Hence, the Library of Ashurbanipal was an on-going project to which
manuscripts were continuously added.
Then there are the private colophons, which represent a surprisingly large
component of the corpus. It is difficult to identify the individuals named in the
private colophons with individuals mentioned in other sources. The number of
names points toward the involvement of numerous people with the Library of
Ashurbanipal. There must have been multiple ways in which these tablets with
private colophons ended up in Nineveh. Some tablets with private colophons
might stem from older collections and/or have been assembled from different
places for the Library of Ashurbanipal. Others might have been written in Nine-
veh itself. Cohen’s forthcoming dissertation as part of the project is looking into
connections between Ashurbanipal and private colophons, linking the scribes of
both.
The manuscript collection in itself is incompletely preserved. Still some as-
sumptions seem plausible given the available sources. The Library of Ashurbani-
29
Late Babylonian copies of letters from the neo-Assyrian period indicate that Ashurba-
nipal assembled tablets from Babylonia for his collection; see Frame/George, 2005. They
might not be authentic copies but texts revised or composed following the Zeitgeist of the
Hellenistic period according to Ronni Goldstein, 2010. The library records, which date to
the reign of Ashurbanipal, list scholarly texts in combination with their writing supports
and personal names. This has been brought in connection with Ashurbanipal’s endeavour;
see Parpola, 1983b. For collecting and writing scholarly texts during the reigns of Ashur-
banipal and his father Esarhaddon see also Schnitzlein, 2022: 294–316 with a discussion
of the evidence.
558 Babette Schnitzlein / Sophie Cohen
pal was a place where knowledge was produced, reproduced and exchanged.30
The existence of tablets with Ashurbanipal colophons clearly points to the (re)pro-
duction of texts at Nineveh, the numerous names in the private colophons to an
exchange in one way or another. The high number of commentary texts found at
Nineveh further strengthen the argument of knowledge exchange and production
taking place at the royal court.31
We are gaining a clearer idea of the number of tablets represented by the sur-
viving fragments, and the correlation between the ancient and modern collections.
In the next stage of the project, we will focus on the relation of the colophons to
each other within the Library system.
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of the British Museum. Volume V. London: Harrison and Sons.
Borger, R., 1970a: “Bemerkungen zu den akkadischen Kolophonen”. Die Welt
des Orients 5, 165–171.
— 1970b: “Zu den Kolophonen Hunger, BAK, Nr. 338 und 339”. Revue d’Assyr-
iologie 64, 188.
Fincke, J.C., 2004: “The British Museum’s Ashurbanipal Library Project”. Iraq
66, 55–60.
— 2014: “Babylonische Gelehrte am neuassyrischen Hof: zwischen Anpassung
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for King Ashurbanipal’s Tablet Collecting”. Iraq 67, 265–284.
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30
For this notion of library see Schnitzlein, 2022: 213–217.
31
For the commentaries compare Frahm, 2011
News from Ashurbanipal’s Library 559
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— 1998–2000: “Nabû-zuqup-kēnu”. Reallexikon der Assyriologie 9, 34.
Lieberman, S. J., 1987: “A Mesopotamian Background for the So-Called Aggadic
‘Measures’ of Biblical Hermeneutics?”. Hebrew Union College Annual 58,
157–225.
Maul, S. M., 1988: ‘Herzberuhigungsklagen’. Die sumerisch-akkadischen Erša-
ḫunga-Gebete. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag.
May, N. N., 2018: “The Scholar and Politics: Nabû-zuqup-kēnu, his Colophons
and the Ideology of Sargon II”. In N. Koslova (ed.): Proceedings of the Inter-
national Conference Dedicated to the Centenary of Igor Mikhailovich Diakon-
off (1915–1999). St. Petersburg: The State Hermitage Publishers, 110–164.
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ylonian Scholarly Text Catalogues. Medicine, Magic and Divination. Die ba-
bylonisch-assyrische Medizin in Texten und Untersuchungen 9. Boston / Ber-
lin: De Gruyter, 89–120.
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Assurbanipal. Part II: Commentary and Appendices. Alter Orient und Altes
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Archives and Libraries. Papers read at the 30e Rencontre Assyriologique In-
ternationale. Leiden, 4–8 July 1983. Publications de I’Institut historique-ar-
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560 Babette Schnitzlein / Sophie Cohen
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Literary Snippets: Colophons Across Space and Time.
7.
Varia
Marad between the Neo-Assyrian
and Neo-Babylonian Empires
John P. Nielsen*
1. Introduction
Two tablets separated by fifty-six years record the transfer of butcher’s prebends
associated with the cult of Lugal-Marada and the gods of Marad. The first is a sale
dated at Babylon in 666 during Šamaš-šuma-ukīn’s second year on the throne.1
The sale was very much a family affair: the seller, the buyer, and five of the ten
witnesses to the transaction were all from the prominent Šangû-Ištar-Bābili fam-
ily.2 Just over a half century later in 610, Nabopolassar’s sixteenth regnal year,
another transfer of butcher’s prebends in the cult of Lugal-Marada was recorded.
As with the earlier transfer, the prebends changed hands between members of the
same family, a reflection of the strong tendency for prebendal families to retain
ownership within the paternal line.3 Unfortunately, the specifics of the second
transfer are difficult to reconstruct due to a few damaged lines, but it appears that
the prebends in question passed between cousins from the Dannēa family. Fur-
*
I wish to thank S. Zaia and P. Ouysook for inviting me to participate in the “Life after
Empire” workshop. L. Pearce generously permitted me to include a transliteration and
translation of YBC 11453, a tablet for which she holds publication rights. A copy of the
tablet will appear in her publication of tablets from the reign of Nabopolassar planned for
the Yale Oriental Series. A. Lassen and K. Wagensonner provided me with images of tab-
lets in the Yale collection and K. Wagensonner collated my transliterations. M. Kozuh and
L. Pearce provided useful suggestions for some of the problems I encountered in the tab-
lets. Finally, I would like to thank the organizers of the 67th RAI at Turin and the editors
of the conference proceedings. I bear sole responsibility for the contents herein.
All abbreviations are in accordance with the list of abbreviations in the U–W volume of
The Chicago Assyrian Dictionary (CAD), vii–xxix.
1
YBC 9120, published in Driver, 1924: 41–48; San Nicolò, 1951: No. 35; Stephens, 1947:
273–274.
2
Members of this family are attested in contemporary tablets from Babylon and a branch
of the family later rose to prominence at Sippar (Nielsen, 2011: 135, 172–174; 2015: 357–
358); three men from the family served as šangû-priest of Sippar from 554 to 521 (Bon-
genaar, 1997: 12–15, 28–31).
3
Waerzeggers, 2010: 98–99.
564 John P. Nielsen
thermore, unlike the earlier tablet that was dated at Babylon, the latter transaction
was actually witnessed at the town of Marad,4 the home of Lugal-Marada’s cult.
These two tablets are some of the very few private legal documents from the
7th century that inform us about the city of Marad. To my knowledge, the only
other tablet from Marad dating to the era of Assyrian supremacy is an unpublished
land sale dated in 639, Kandalānu’s ninth year.5 Yet in spite of this dearth of tex-
tual evidence, these tablets, in combination with mentions of Marad in royal in-
scriptions and letters, can contribute to our understanding of the transition at
Marad between the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian empires in Babylonia dur-
ing the latter half of the 7th century and the reorientation of relations between
urban centers and tribal regions that resulted from this shift in power.
Marad, modern Tell Wanat es-Sadum, was a city of considerable antiquity in
the first millennium BCE. Over the preceding centuries, Marad had the good for-
tune to remain situated along important arteries that linked northern and southern
Babylonia through both the second and first millennia, even as the main channel
of the Euphrates meandered westward. During the second millennium, the pri-
mary channel of the Euphrates, the Abgal, would have run from Kish through
Marad, and the Me-Enlilla canal probably branched off from the Abgal just north
of Marad and ran through Nippur before flowing southeast toward Larsa.6 By the
first millennium, the Euphrates had shifted away from Kish and its riverbed in the
Abgal and had moved west to the Araḫtum,7 a channel that flowed from Sippar in
the north through Babylon, Marad, Uruk, and the Sealand.8 Yet in spite of con-
sistently being situated on or near a branch of the Euphrates, Marad never rose to
the forefront of southern Mesopotamian cities.
This understanding may change with future discoveries, but the current picture
of Marad is that of a provincial city that was the occasional beneficiary of royal
largesse and which typically held a liminal position between power centers to the
north and south and between urbanized and tribal zones. Although Marad was not
included in the Sumerian King List, the city was mentioned in the Early Dynastic
Temple Hymns and received the attention of the kings of the Akkadian dynasty.9
Maništušu’s obelisk includes his acquisition of large tracts of land from members
of an extensive kinship group in the region of Marad,10 and Narām-Sîn’s son,
4
YBC 11453.
5
FLP 1314. An image of this tablet is posted on the Cuneiform Digital Library Initiative
website (https://cdli.ucla.edu/) with the CDLI no. P459871.
6
Cole / Gasche, 1998: 27–29; Gasche et al., 2002–2003: 541–543.
7
Cole / Gasche, 1998: 32.
8
Jursa et al., 2010: 64.
9
Edzard, 1987–1990: 351.
10
Gelb / Steinkeller / Whiting, 1991: 116–117 and No. 40: C xii 6–xix 28, and xxxiv 25–
29; Foster, 2016: 1–2.
Marad between the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian Empires 565
11
Frayne, 1993: E.2.1.4.9.
12
De Boer, 2013: 73–74.
13
De Boer, 2013: 88–89.
14
Brinkman, 1968: 87.
15
Frame, 1992: 220.
16
Stol, 1987–1990: 148.
17
Grayson / Novotny, 2012: No. 1 10–15; 2014: No. 213 10–15.
18
Fales, 2011: 96.
19
Fales, 2011: 92.
20
Grayson / Novotny, 2012: No. 1 36–39; 2014: No. 213 36–39, note the inscription has
566 John P. Nielsen
34 cities.
21
Reynolds, 2003: No. 18 57–60.
22
For the dating of these letters, see Reynolds, 2003: xxiii.
23
Reynolds, 2003: No. 59: 13–r. 2.
24
Nevez, 1998: 122 No. 3.
25
Reynolds, 2003: No. 60.
26
Reynolds, 2003: No. 59: 5–r. 3.
27
Reynolds, 2003: No. 60 r. 5–9.
28
YBC 9120, YBC 11391, and YBC 11567.
Marad between the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian Empires 567
that the prebends were in the Eigikalamma temple, raising the possibility that the
rites for the cult of Lugal-Marada at Marad had temporarily been observed in ab-
sentia at a cella in Babylon in 666. If we factor in the contents of the land sale
dated at Marad in 639 (Kandalānu year 9) in which the field being sold was de-
scribed as having recently been brought under cultivation, the picture of Marad
that emerges – albeit with limited evidence – is that of a city that had undergone
a period of low-level turmoil during Esarhaddon’s reign due to competing Assyr-
ian and Dakkūrean interests, but which may have received renewed attention from
urban cultivators after Ashurbanipal’s suppression of the Šamaš-šuma-ukīn revolt
in 648.29
29
It is not clear which side Bīt-Dakkūri took during the revolt, although it is clear that one
Dakkūrean was singled out for punishment at Assyrian hands. Frame, 1992: 170–175.
30
Nielsen, 2015: 103.
31
Jursa et al., 2010: 90, 136–137.
32
Jursa et al., 2010: 201–202.
568 John P. Nielsen
been prebend owners with close familial ties to other prebend owners from the
Dannēa family.
would have been the norm. As a purveying priesthood, the butchers participated
in the daily ceremonial presentation of sacrificial commodities to the temple-ent-
erers (ērib-bītis) in the temple courtyard (kisallu). This duty placed the butchers
among the consecrated and ritually-shaven priests whose suitability for office
was, in part, determined by their descent.33 Consequently, even if these men were
not themselves prebendaries in the Eigikalamma, they were very likely related to
men who were. Furthermore, it is even reasonable to speculate that marital ties
existed between the two families. If the marital practices that linked the priestly
families at Borsippa were mirrored at Marad,34 then it is conceivable – though
admittedly just speculation – that the men of the Šangû-Ištar-Bābili and Dannēa
families had an affinal connection in addition to their financial interactions and
possible shared temple affiliations.
5. Conclusions
The inhabitants of Babylonia’s ancient cities, particularly those residents associ-
ated with the temple institutions, claimed a distinct identity from both Chaldeans
and Arameans. Aqar-bēl-lūmur’s explanation to the Assyrian king that Lugal-
Marada was the brother of Nabû and Nergal was in part a rhetorical device in-
tended to curry the sympathy of the king and not a commonly held understanding
of the pantheon.35 However, it also reflected the likelihood that at least aspects of
the cult of Lugal-Marada were being observed in absentia at Babylon at that time.
For Aqar-bēl-lūmur, these activities would have justified his fraternal link be-
tween Lugal-Marada and Nabû and Nergal. At the same time, the familial and
hierarchical relations that existed within the Babylonian pantheon had a potential
for fluidity.36 They were an expression of the urban gentry’s conceptualization
that each temple existed within a relational network of temples that linked Baby-
lonian cities together. This network overlapped territories inhabited or controlled
by Chaldeans and Arameans and was occasionally disrupted by their presence.
This most famously occurred when proper celebrations of the akītu-festival at
Babylon were interrupted by Aramean tribes,37 but the actions of the Dakkūreans
at Marad described by Aqar-bēl-lūmur could have led to a suspension of cultic
activities at Marad that is possibly alluded to in the transferal of prebends of
Lugal-Marada and the gods of Marad at Babylon in 666. The divide between
urbanized and tribal populations predated but also precipitated and was
exacerbated by Assyrian interventions into Babylonia beginning with Shalma-
neser III’s campaign into Chaldean territory after he intervened at Babylon on
33
Waerzeggers, 2008: 1–38; 2010: 47–48; Still, 2019: 13–15.
34
Still, 2019: 29–62.
35
Pomponio, 1978: 169.
36
Hundley, 2013.
37
Grayson, 1975: 137–138; Glassner, 2004: 300–301.
570 John P. Nielsen
6. Texts
6.1 YBC 9120
obv.
1. [a-ḫu giš.šub.b]a lú.gír.lá-ú-tu šá é pa-pa-⸢ḫu⸣
[dlugal-marad.d]a ù dingir.meš marad.daki ma-la ba-šu-⸢ú⸣
[šá kal mu.an.n]a pu-ut ḫa.la šá mšu-ma-a dumu-šú šá
m
a-⸢qar⸣-[a] mdamar.utu-dub-numun dumu-šú šá m[a-qa]r-damar.utu
5. dumu lú.[šid-d] ⸢inni⸣n-din.tirki it-ti mde[n.líl]-sig5-iq
dumu-šú šá [mdamar].utu-lugal-a-ni a lú.šid-dinnin-din.t[ir]ki
ki-[i 1] ⸢ma⸣.na kù.babbar <kù>.pad.du ki.[l]am
38
Brinkman, 1984: 22; Beaulieu, 2018: 182–183; Radner, 2020: 93–95; Nielsen, 2021:
111–113.
39
Nielsen, 2021.
40
Jursa, 2006: 161 n. 8, but for another possibility see Jursa, 2007.
41
Beaulieu, 2013: 32–37.
42
Levavi, 2021: 17–33 describes a comparable shift toward more collaborative relations
between the Eanna and the officials of the Sealand after the collapse of the Assyrian Em-
pire.
Marad between the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian Empires 571
lugal din.tirki
ṣu-pur mden.líl-sig5-iq dumu-šú šá mdamar.utu-lugal-a-ni
dumu lú.šid-dinnin-din.tirki ki-ma na4.kišib-šú
(1–8) Half of a share of a butcher’s prebend in the cella of Lugal-Marada and the
gods of Marad, as much as there is for the whole year, jointly held property of
Šumāya son of Aqara. Marduk-šāpik-zēri son of Aqar-Marduk and descendant of
Šangû-Ištar-Bābili established a price of 1 mina of silver in lump form with Enlil-
mudammiq son of Marduk-šarrāni and descendant of Šangû-Ištar-Bābili and paid
the complete price for a half of a butcher’s prebend of the cella of Lugal-Marada
and the gods of Marad, as much as there is for [the entire year], the title for which
is held by Šumāya son of Aqara.
(9–15a) Marduk-šāpik-zēri son of Aqar-Marduk and descendant of Šangû-Ištar-
Bābili with Enlil-udammiq son of Marduk-šarrāni descendant of Šangû-Ištar-
Bābili gave a total of 1 mina of silver in full in silver, the price of a half of a
butcher’s prebend in the cella of Lugal-Marada and the gods of Marad, as much
as exists.
(15b–22) It is received, it is paid, it is clear. It does not have a claimant. They will
not return and make claims against one another. In the future if anyone should
come forth from among the brothers, <sons>, and relations of the house of Enlil-
mudammiq and raise disputes with regards to that butcher’s prebends saying:
“That prebend was not given, the silver was not received,” that person will have
to pay out twelve times over the silver that was received.
(23–29) If a legal challenger or claimant for the half of the butcher’s prebend of
the cella of Lugal-Marada and the gods of Marad (as much as there is the title for
which is held by Šumāya son of Aqara) should appear, Enlil-mudammiq son of
Marduk-šarrāni and descendant of Šangû-Ištar-Bābili will redeem it and give it to
Marduk-šāpik-zēri son of Aqar-Marduk and descendant of Šangû-Ištar-Bābili.
(30–49) At the sealing of this document:
Marduk-ēṭir, descendant of Gahal, temple-enterer of Madānu
Mušēzib-Marduk, descendant of Bēl-eṭēri
Kudurru, son of Upāqu, descendant of Šangû-Ištar-Bābili
Zākir, son of Upāqu, descendant of Šangû-Ištar-Bābili
Bēl-ušallim, son of Enlil-mudammiq, descendant of Šangû-Ištar-Bābili,
seller of the prebend
Nabû-aḫḫē-bulliṭ, son of Bītā, descendant of Nūr-Papsukkal
Zērūtu, son of Zākir, descendant of Šangû-Ištar-Bābili
Bēl-aḫa-iddin, son of Kudurru, descendant of Šangû-Ištar-Bābili
Kudurru, son of Nabû-zēra-ibni, descendant of Rabâ-ša-Ninurta
Iqīša-Marduk, son of Bēl-ibni, descendant of Atkuppu
Bēl-aha-iddin, son of Bēl-iddin, descendant of Ša-naḫbêšu
Nabû-zākir, son of Šullumu
Marad between the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian Empires 573
and the scribe who wrote the tablet (was) Nergal-nāṣir, son of Ibnaya. Babylon.
Intercalary month of Ulūlu (VI/2). Day 20. Year 2 of Šamaš-šuma-ukīn, king of
Babylon. The fingernail (marks) of Enlil-mudammiq, son of Marduk-šarrāni, de-
scendant of Šangû-Ištar-Bābili, are in lieu of his seal.
(1–2) 4 pānu seedland, field and steppe land recently brought under cultivation
(in) the meadow between the towns (located in) the province of Marad.
(3–8) The upper long side on the west borders (the field of) Nabû-šumu-līšir, son
of Nabû-uballiṭ, descendant of Ḫarriru. The lower long side on the east (blank).
The upper short side on the north (blank). The lower short side on the south (bor-
ders) Nabû-aḫḫē-bulliṭ son of Ur-Nannar.
(9–14) A total of 4 pānu of seedland, whether little or much. Nabû-zēra-uṣur son
of Sîn-šemi (established a purchase price) with Ibaya son of Ṣillaya and Nabû-
aḫḫē-bulliṭ son of Bēl-ibni total amounting to 11 shekels of silver in lump form
and 5 sūtu of barley which he paid as additional payment.
(15–32) A grand total of 11 shekels of silver in lump form and 5 sūtu of barley
from the hand of Zērūtu son of Sîn-šemi and Nabû-aḫḫē-erība (Ibaya) son on of
Ṣillaya, the price of his field in full. It is received, it is paid, it is clear. It does not
have a claimant. They will not return and make claims against one another. In the
future if anyone should come forth from among the brothers, sons, and relations
of the house of Bēl-aḫḫē-erība son of Ṣillaya and Nabû-aḫḫē-bulliṭ son of Bēl-
ibni and raise a dispute, cause a dispute, change, or contest (the sale) with regard
to that field saying: “That field was not given and the silver was not received”,
the contestant will have to pay out twelve times over (the purchase price). The
oath of the god and king is spoken.
(33–46) At the sealing of this document:
Before: Nabû-aḫḫē-erība descendant of Mudammiq-Adad
Nabû-bēl-ilāni descendant of Esaggil-mansum
Isinnāya descendant of Luštammar-Adad
Nabû-aḫa-iddin descendant of Ḫarriru
Nergal-iddin descendant of Ṭābiḫu
Marduk-šuma-ibni descendant of Šangû-bēlit-Bābili
and the scribe is Marduk-šarranni, descendant of Bā’iru (Fisher). Marad. Month
of Tašrītu (VII). Day 14. Year 9 of Kandalānu, king of Babylon. The fingernail
Marad between the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian Empires 575
of Dannēa, the son of his paternal uncle […] son of […]-zēri, which Zērūtu [……]
he completed the transaction. It is given.
(15–25) The witnesses are: Taqīš-Gula, son of [DN]-aḫa-uṣur, descendant of Ea-
ṣīr-ilāni; Iqīšaya, [son of] Šamaš-iddin, descendant of Itinnu (Builder); Nabû-
šuma-ēreš, son of Mār-bīti-iqbi, descendant of Išparu (Weaver); Uballiṭ-Marduk,
son of Nabû-aḫḫē-bulliṭ, descendant of Mudammiq-Adad; Nabû-mukīn-apli, son
of Marduk-zēra-ibni, descendant of Ša-naḫbêšu; Arad-Gula, son of Bēl-iddin, Ea-
ṣīr-ilāni; Balāssu-Marduk, son of Bēl-lē’i, descendant of Ur-Nannar; and the
scribe is Marduk-nāṣir, son of Ilī-ibni, descendant of Ur-Nannar. Month of
Šabattu (XI). Day 8. Year 16 of Nabopolassar, king of Babylon.
Comments
2. The writing 3-ta 4.gál.la is unexpected for the fraction ¾, but the meaning is
clear. It seems to be a combination of more conventional writings: ina 3-ta
šuII, 3-ta 4-tú, or 3 igi.4.gál.la (M. Streck, 1995: 62 and CAD R rebūtu a 2’).
8–9 and 14. The writing ki.lam i-pu-uš for maḫīra īpuš is clear in line 14 and the
traces in line 9 favor i-pu-uš but the reading is not certain. CAD M/I maḫīru
mng. 4 d) translates the term with epēšu as “to make a purchase, to buy.”
AHw M maḫīru(m) 2) c) m. epēšu translates the phrase as “Kauf durchfüh-
ren,” which CDA (J. Black et al. [eds.], 2000: 190) emulates with the trans-
lation “to complete a transaction,” employed here. The transactional nature
of the phrase is clear, but the subjunctive form would be expected in line 9 if
the phrase ša ina qāti governs the clause. It is unclear who the subject of the
verb is in line 14.
10. Damage to the beginning of this line obscures the understanding of the phrase
that follows. What the “gate of the owner/lord of the house of his filial status
(natural or adopted) means is unclear, but given the strong association of
prebend ownership with the paternal line, it seems likely that some aspect of
legitimate descent related to the transfer of a prebend is communicated here.
13. Restoration of this line is difficult, but the belief here is that the two signs -ub-
bu at the end of the line conclude a 3m.pl. verb, possibly in the subjunctive.
One solution is to read the preceding ki as itti and restore an ungrammatical
form of dabābu, which CAD D mng. 3 translates as “to discuss a topic, to
come to an agreement, to negotiate.” The gemination of the final radical is
unusual, but in IM 57900:23, an unpublished legal tablet from Nippur, the
verb is written ⸢i⸣-dab- ⸢bu⸣-ub-bu in a standard legal clause against disputing
a sale. The sense here being that there was a negotiation between the parties
prior to the transfer of the prebend. Another solution was suggested to me by
L. Pearce, who proposed ebēbu in the D-stem, which according to CAD E
mng. 2 c) has the meaning “to clear a person or property of legal or financial
claims.” Like dabābu, this verb applies to contracts and transaction, but the
final geminated radical is unexpected.
Marad between the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian Empires 577
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