Bronze Age writing was still a restricted technology, usually associated with power and authority. It is not surprising then that it also had political applications. Stelae commemorating Egyptian victories and marking the extent of political control would have been a public statement of both achievement and intent; a similar effect would have been achieved through the erection of royal statuary. Examples of both these phenomena have appeared at a handful of locations in the southern Levant, most notably at Beth Shan, Tell el-Oreimeh, Ashdod, at-Turra and Tell es-Shihab (James and McGovern 1993: 249–250; Schulman 1993; Weinstein 1981: 20). Both classes of object most frequently appear in basalt, a challenging material with a Mohs hardness of six, that could be locally sourced in flows running from Eastern Galilee into the Hauran (Sparks 2007: fig. 59). At Beth Shan, this material was common not only for monumental texts but also for uninscribed vessels and tools, prompting the suggestion that the town housed its own basalt workshops (Sparks 2007: 164). However the style of carving and the use of linguistically acceptable texts points to the Levantine monuments being produced by craftspeople who were fully trained within the Egyptian system. Their choice of this material over other locally available and softer stones such as limestone may therefore have been more than a matter of accessibility; it may also have held cultural and ideological overtones. Basalt has a hardness comparable to that of granite, a material more often used for royal statuary and stelae in Egypt itself. This may have made it an acceptable substitute, containing similar potential to impress, a potential also achieved through the use of monumental scale. Its durability may also have been a metaphor for the durability of pharaonic control in the region. Such monuments were intended to last (cf. Piquette, this volume).
In both cases, the strongly Egyptian style of execution would make their ideological meaning readily identifiable even to the non-literate. It seems likely that this sort of monument would have been erected in visible, public places, such as marketplaces, near gateways and in temple precincts. It is also likely that they would be subject to processes of curation and be kept in the public eye for extensive periods of time. This has an obvious impact on the archaeology of this type of artefact, as many such texts will be found in deposits that date well beyond their original period of manu- facture, making assessment of the way they were originally presented problematic. This appears to have been the case for stelae of Sety I and Ramses II, presumably erected during the reigns of their respective pharaohs, but recovered from a much later deposit in Beth Shan Lower Level V where they appear to have been erected on plinths in an area west of the northern temple (James 1966: 34–38). Over time, however, the value of such monuments was reduced as the rulers and officials that commissioned them ceased to be important, often leading to damage and reuse in far less prestigious surroundings (e.g. as door sills and sockets, Albright 1952: 24; Albright and Rowe 1928: 281).
Another potentially political use of writing was to mark presentation objects and diplomatic gifts. Gift exchange was an important part of creating and maintaining power relationships between elites across the Near East, as reflected in the Amarna letters and other correspondence between royal courts. While these letters do not actually tell us about whether gifted objects were inscribed, numerous high quality, prestige items bearing writing have been found that could reflect this type of event. The use of Egyptian royal names on luxury stone vessels may have been one example of this phenomenon (Sparks 2003), and a limited distribution of this type of artefact to strategically important cities and centres of power would support the idea that they were being directed at allies and courts where the Egyptians sought influence, rather than at controlled, vassal states. Only one stone vessel with a royal name has been found in the southern Levant, a calcite jar fragment at Gezer with the cartouche of Ramses II (Sparks 2003: fig. 3.4d). Its context, an LBII cistern, does not really explain how it came to be there, but one would suspect it began its career as a gift from the Egyptian court. Other types of objects with royal names are more common in the region, such as ivory objects including a pommel, pen case and semi-circular plaque (Feldman 2009: 180; Higginbotham 2000: 247; Macalister 1912, volume 2: figs 388, 456; Macalister 1912, volume 3: pl. 209, no. 97). Many of these are elite items that could have been presentation gifts. The contexts of others suggest they are more likely to have been votive offerings, perhaps being made on behalf of the king or invoking the royal cult (e.g. Figure 7a; Franken 1992: figs 3–9.5, pl. 4b; Rothenberg 1988: Egyptian catalogue nos 19, 26–28, 30, 41–47, 50, 83a, 96, 102–103, 180, 193, 195, 222).
The distribution of the special class of commemorative scarab issued throughout the reign of Amenhotep III could be considered another expression of textual name-dropping, although here we may see the recipients being Egyptians in positions of power both at home and abroad, as well as foreign elites. Examples have been found at Beth Shan, Beth Shemesh, Gezer, Lachish, Jaffa, and Qla’et Twal in Jordan (see Figure 7b; Blankenberg-Van Delden 1969). Unlike commemora- tive stelae or statuary, these were intensely personal objects, carved from steatite in the form of a scarab beetle, with a detailed inscription on the underside of the base recording in several registers a number of significant events in the pharaoh’s reign. They could be held in the hand, but unlike other types of scarab, are significantly larger and almost cover the palm. They are both weightier, and more impressive. To a Levantine audience familiar only with small ring-mounted scarab amulets, the difference would have been remarkable. These were also objects to be possessed, rather than just displayed, as the dense text becomes visible only once the user has picked the object up.
Commemorative scarabs also stand out on a stylistic level. Scarab texts found in the region often feature strong visual symmetry, with flanking pairs of signs framing important elements such as cartouches, or using hieroglyphs as filler motifs to frame figurative designs. In the case of the commemorative scarab, the surface area of the flat base is much greater, and consequently less constrained by the oval form of the object. The result is a much more formal and traditional layout for the texts, which are neatly arranged in a series of horizontal registers. The execution is also more careful and precise than usually seen. Both these features add to the prestige of the object, and underline its source in an Egyptian royal workshop.
The comparative scarcity of commemorative scarabs would also have increased their desirability. It is hardly surprising then that some commemorative scarabs seem to have been retained as heirlooms and curated for as much as several hundred years (Goldwasser 2002: 191; Jeffreys 2003: 206–207; Sweeney 2003: 58). These scarabs have been seen as a way of issuing royal bulletins, and reminding foreign rulers of Egyptian power and influence (Goldwasser 2002: 193; Sweeney 2003: 58). In each case, the text is an important element in the function and meaning of the object; while an Egyptian official might be expected to be able to understand the text, one might assume that the delivery of the gift to a Levantine ruler was accompanied by a formal ‘reading’. After the event, the distinctive Egyptian character of the hieroglyphs and shape, magnified tenfold as appropriate for a royal recipient, would serve as a visual reminder of the purpose of the gift, whether or not the owner could revisit its specific contents. It seems likely that what was ultimately remembered generations later was the formal relationship represented by the gift, rather than the more transitory bulletin inscribed on its base.
