By Anand Balaji

The death of Pharaoh Amenhotep III of the illustrious Eighteenth Dynasty in ancient Egypt enabled his second son Amenhotep IV (r. 1353-1336 BCE) to inherit an empire of opulence. Ably assisted by Nefertiti, his Great Royal Wife, the young pharaoh embarked on a daring enterprise that condemned the pantheon of gods to virtual obscurity while promoting a single solar deity, the Aten.

These cataclysmic changes that were first launched in the imperial capital Thebes and later nurtured in the new city Akhetaten (Horizon of the Aten / modern Tell el-Amarna), resulted in disastrous consequences that pushed religion and statecraft in Egypt to the very edge and generated shockwaves that reverberated for generations thereafter.

Amenhotep IV did not devise Atenism per se – the deity was already known at the time of the Pyramid Texts. He declared that the Aten who was depicted as a radiant solar disc was not merely the supreme god, but the only god; and that he was the sole intermediary. So, while the pharaoh and his queen worshipped the Aten, their subjects worshipped them.

Trouble in the Temple

The proscription of the hoary Egyptian pantheon by Amenhotep IV, particularly the Amun cult, irked the powerful priesthood and matters came to a boiling point by Year 5 of his rule. During those first few years of his reign, the pharaoh who was in an apparent hurry to introduce the Aten decorated the southern entrance to the precincts of the temple of Amun-Ra with scenes of himself worshipping Ra-Harakhti, the falcon headed aspect of the sun.

From an examination of the reliefs dating from that period in Karnak, Egyptologists discovered the remnants of four distinct structures. Constructed outside the boundaries of the Precinct of Amun-Ra, the main temple in the complex was named the Gm–p3–itn (Gem-pa-Aten / “The Sun Disc is Found in the Estate of the God Aten”) and was discovered in-situ. The other structures were named Hwt–bnbn (Hwt benben / “The Mansion of the Benben stone”), Rwd–mnw–n–itn–r–n?? (Rud-menu / “Sturdy are the Monuments of the Sun Disc Forever”), and Tni–mnw–n–itn–r–n?? (Teni–menu / “Exalted are the Monuments of the Sun Disc Forever”). More importantly, the pharaoh followed up these building projects with an official change of nomen from Amenhotep (Amun is Satisfied), to Akhenaten (Effective for Aten).

Donald B. Redford, Director of the ‘Akhenaten Temple Project’ (Pennsylvania State University) reveals that judging by its artistic style and composition the Gem-pa-Aten seems to have been the earliest building; while the Hwt-Bnbn that depicts Nefertiti sans Akhenaten was the final construction.

But how did such massive temples arise in so little time? How was the construction of a huge city like Akhetaten achieved so quickly? The answer can be found in the building material Akhenaten’s architects used. For centuries, the grand Egyptian monuments were mostly built out of very large blocks of limestone or sandstone; in order to expedite their work the pharaoh’s builders devised an ingenious plan?they used a smaller size of masonry block measuring 52x26x22 cm which one worker could carry with ease. These blocks were mostly richly painted and/or carved with scenes from everyday life, the pharaoh and the royal family worshipping the Aten and so on.

Called “talatat” (Arabic for ‘three hands in length’) by workmen who participated in excavations, the word was introduced into the archaeological lexicon by Henri Chevrier, Egyptologist and Inspector of Antiquities at Karnak from 1925 to 1952. Akhenaten’s ambitious building project required tens of thousands of talatat, so bands of workers were dispatched nearly 100km south of Thebes to Gebel el-Silsila where the best quality limestone was to be found.

One of the major reasons for this extraordinary haste in construction was due to Akhenaten’s wish to celebrate the Heb Sed festival. In the scenes, one can also see sacrifices, dancers, musicians, and the royal family whose ubiquitous depictions defied the artistic convention of the time. Several other innovative concepts in construction relate to the building and structural designs including a change from the mausoleum style to open courtyards that enabled the rays of the Aten to illuminate the temple and its visitors.

Horemheb, the last king of the Eighteenth Dynasty ordered the systematic dismantling of the Great Aten Temple in Akhetaten, and more importantly, the Gem-pa-Aten and other Aten sanctuaries in Karnak. The Generalissimo-turned-pharaoh used the dismantled blocks and masonry by their thousands as rubble/fill in new building projects ? Pylons II, IX, and X; plus pillars, foundations, and the hypostyle hall at Luxor.

When Talatat Tumbled Out

In the 1840s, the ruins of the temple of Amun-Ra began to yield talatat?mostly those that tumbled out of decrepit colonnades and pillars. These measly numbers of blocks multiplied sizably by the 1920s. Chevrier stumbled upon thousands of decorated talatat when he initiated a project to restore the flooring of the hypostyle hall, and also insert a concrete core in Pylon II among the ruins at Karnak temple in 1926.

But this profusion of blocks and lack of proper storage facilities meant that thousands upon thousands of talatat were left out in the open where they weathered the elements. While talatat from Akhetaten were extremely rare, Thebes did not disappoint. Soon, a staggering 100,000 limestone blocks were accounted for; and a phenomenal 40,000 of these were decorated on one or more sides with parts of relief scenes.

Resurrecting Aten through Technology

An idea to map these blocks and try and fit the pieces of this giant ancient jigsaw puzzle struck Ray Winfield Smith, an authority on ancient glass and Egyptology in 1965. In an interview to National Geographic, he expressed his motivation for undertaking the pathbreaking ‘Akhenaten Temple Project’ thus, “I was dumbfounded. That such a mine of beauty and historical lore should lie neglected seemed unthinkable.”

Smith decided to photograph all the Karnak talatat he could locate; they included the ones in American and European collections too. Next, he planned to use an IBM computer in Cairo to facilitate the process of reconstructing countless relief scenes. In 1966, the retired American diplomat succeeded in gaining the sponsorship of the University Museum, and thereafter the Smithsonian Institution and the National Geographic Society as well. Soon, he formed a team that comprised Egyptologists from both Britain and Egypt. The challenge before the group was heightened by the fact that their work would be restricted to merely matching talatat in photographic reduction, without any reference to the actual site, ground plans or other remains in situ.

In an article for the Penn Museum in 1979, Donald Redford noted: “Smith was indefatigable in his pursuit of talatat. All the blocks at Karnak were photographed to scale, and then the intrepid investigator set out on a search which led him to France, Germany, Switzerland, and the U.S.A. Everywhere talatat were photographed, and Egyptologists willingly offered their own photos.”

Here is a brief description of a part of the Himalayan task that the researchers confronted: “First each of the 25,000 talatat was photographed on 35 mm film. Then the team “translated” the details and designs of each talatat onto a computer card. Together with the number assigned to the stone by the Project (which includes its warehouse location) the card notes its color, whether stretcher or header (the temple was built for the most part in alternating layers) and, most importantly, the incised design fragment thereon, under a score of different classifications. A talatat may contain some hieroglyphic writing, the cartouche of Akhenaten or Nefertiti, or a part of a human or animal figure, a portion of a chair or chariot, a ceremonial fan, a religious symbol, a palanquin, an offering, part of a procession, etc. Hundreds of the stones—as would be expected given the official worship of Aten—show descending rays from a sun-disk above. On the cards, these are classified by the angles of the lines.” The team behind the arduous ‘Akhenaten Temple Project’ was rewarded for its efforts with the success it rightly deserved. In five years’ time the Project had produced enough material for publication.

Over the years, numerous digs have yielded an array of information on Akhenaten’s ill-fated temples in Karnak. The studies conducted by Smith and his team, bold and fruitful as they were, enriched our understanding of the life and times of one of the most enigmatic pharaohs to ever rule Egypt. By engaging in further investigations with the aid of the latest technology, one hopes that the many mysteries that still lie hidden within the talatat horde will finally be unravelled for the benefit of future generations of Egyptologists and enthusiasts.

Author Bio

Anand Balaji is a journalist and author based in Bangalore, India. He holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in World History, as well as a Journalism degree. He has researched many facets of ancient Egypt, with a special interest in the Amarna period.