the naos was not intended to provide an exhaustive catalogue of Egyptian gods, but rather to ensure the continuity of cosmic cycles.
Two other naoi provide examples of a ‘universal’
representation of the divine world. A naos of Ptolemy II bears a frieze of vultures and uraei above the entrance cavity, plausibly interpreted by Thiers as a reference to the gods of Upper and Lower Egypt, respectively (Thiers 1997: 258–9, fig.7). The naos of Amasis from Athribis, discussed above, depicts a series of gods above the cornice, receiving offerings from the king. These are rather general groupings of three seated anthropomorphic deities each associated with a toponym. The toponyms seem to refer to parts of a temple, though perhaps not specific to Athribis. The accompanying texts make it clear that these depictions could represent all of the gods who fall into the various categories, obviating the need for showing the individual gods.
At Hibis, the specific deities depicted in the sanctuary are clearly arranged topographically, grouped by temple/place (a term for temples, such as Hwt-nTr or pr, is not explicitly
mentioned). The Bubastis ‘temple-list’ reliefs clearly performed a similar function. Could an inner shrine at Hibis, a counterpart to the Bubastis naos, have contained décor featuring a
cosmogonical depiction of deities ?11Alternatively, the Hibis
sanctuary itself could be seen as a substitute for the naos (Cruz Uribe 1988: 197): the decoration synthesised content relating to creation and cult landscape into one series of reliefs (see Kessler 2003). Though at Bubastis these elements were seemingly separated into two distinct groups: cosmogony (naos) and cult landscape (‘temple list’ reliefs, perhaps in the sanctuary), there were undoubtedly notions of creation cycles inherent in the ‘temple list’ at Bubastis, as the principal god in each temple would have been the creator god in that temple.
What was the purpose of highlighting the processes of creation on the shrine which housed Bastet’s principal cult image? A network of divinity, cosmogonical and terrestrial, physically surrounded the cult image of Bastet. The sparse textual content upon the Bubastis naos underlines that Bastet was the focal point of the shrine; it is her alone mentioned in the dedicatory inscriptions, and pharaoh offers to her on the threshold of the naos (Pls.2, 21). The surrounding divinities, embodying the processes of creation, can be interpreted as a further layer of protection, a symbolic enclosure to strengthen the physical protection afforded by the shrine’s architecture. Pharaoh commissioned a shrine to house and protect the divine image; as the Saft el-Henna naos states, he was one who ‘protects the divine bodies in his time and for many years’ (Roeder 1914: 63) through building the naos. This link is even more explicit in texts inscribed around the walls of the Dendera sanctuary:
He (the king) completed the st-wrt in its mysterious forms, the name of which is the Temple of the Sistrum, to protect her body in the naos of her ka,12to protect her image (sSm). (Dendara I: 33)
The Hermopolis Ogdoad, embodying a phase in the creative process and present on several of the naoi discussed in Chapter
3,13are explicitly given a protective role towards other gods as
early as the Pyramid Texts (Lesko 1991: 94).
Thirtieth dynasty temples are not sufficiently preserved to gauge whether the type of decoration found at Bubastis was
employed elsewhere, but the central tenet of protecting the god’s image runs through the architecture of the nationwide building programme (see Chapter 7). Only small fragments of wall reliefs survive at Elephantine (Jenni 1998), none of which feature content of this type, and Upper Egyptian temples may not have included such forms of décor either. It is worth recalling that none of the ten 30th dynasty naoi from south of Memphis bear decoration of the type found upon the Bubastis shrine. At Behbeit el-Hagar, the only other Delta temple with significant areas of 30th dynasty reliefs preserved, a different conception behind the wall reliefs is evident. Indeed, the role of this temple seems rather unusual, being explicitly associated with Osiris-Hemag and the rejuvenation of royal powers (Favard-Meeks 1991). Its proximity to such sites as Samanud (Spencer, N.A. 1999) and Busiris (linked to Behbeit by a canal in the reign of Nekhtnebef, De Meulenaere 1958: 230–3 [2]) suggests we should consider Behbeit’s role in a different light, perhaps similar to the role of Luxor with respect to Karnak.
Moving outwards from the cult statue, the protective relief scheme at Bubastis could be represented schematically, with the help of evidence from other sites with better preserved temples:
The use of concentrically arranged spheres of divinity is well attested in the better preserved Ptolemaic temples of Upper Egypt. A range of methods were deployed to heighten protection of the divine element, particularly around vulnerable areas. Finnestad’s summary of architectural elements performing symbolic functions (1997: 203–26) can also be applied to temples of the 4th century bc. In addition to architectural barriers and divisions, reliefs doubled as prophylactic elements. While the sanctuary evidently received much attention, as it housed the cult image, doorways and sacred avenues were also key zones. The guardian gods upon the entrance to the Sokar chapel at Dendera are described as:
The guardian-gods (sAw-n.sn), the Great Ones who protect (swDA) the place of the Prince of the White Crown, who ensure the protection of its environs (ir sA m swAw.s), the lords of vigilance watch the Duat without sleeping at night, in the process of eliminating Hemty (i.e. Seth) from his chapel, the 77 gods united in the course of making distant the enemies of the place of Ra, to protect his place, to preserve his body (Hr Hn Ha.f), to defend his ka in his naos (Hr mkt kA.f m kAr.f). (Dendara II: 6 = Cauville 1999: 21)
Statues (saHw) of Sokar were housed in this chapel (frieze dedicatory text, Dendara II: 3 = Cauville 1999: 17). Clearly, the relief décor was envisaged as providing protection to the chapel and its contents. Even apparently pragmatic reliefs, such as nome representations, were also fulfilling a crucial protective role. At Dendera, the texts accompanying such representations on the exterior walls of the sanctuary refer to the protective role these nomes and nome gods performed for the resident god, including the repulsion of chaos (Cauville 1998: 143–9, 185–91). The Book of the Fayum depicts gods linked to terrestrial
Principal subject Form
Bastet Cult statue
Cosmogony Naos decoration Terrestrial cult ‘Temple list’ reliefs King and temple Hypostyle hall reliefs
(foundation ceremonies, offering scenes; nome dadoes likely here)
Egypt and its world Pylon, courtyards, approach
(tribute and smiting scenes, decrees, private statuary)
toponyms of Upper and Lower Egypt in the outer area of the idealised temple, before the sanctuary of Sobek (Derchain 1994: 46–7). Processional barques were particularly vulnerable, as they could leave the secure confines of the temple enclosure. Hill feels that the secondary statuary upon these sacred barques could have performed a protective function similar to that of the wall decoration inside the temples (2004: 139).
The consideration of the priorities evident in the 30th dynasty temple-building programme reveals that the monolithic naos (and its décor) is simply one method of providing
architectural and ritual protection around the sacred cult statue of Bastet. Presumably similar naoi were set up at some other sites, as with other forms of architectural protection encountered in the nationwide temple building programme (Chapter 7). The immediate setting of the great naos, within temple and city, is considered first, in Chapters 5 and 6.
In describing the decoration upon the Bubastis naos, and some of its parallels, I have commented that the divine iconography seems quite unusual for traditional, formal temple contexts. Some further thoughts on possible sources for such iconography are appropriate here.
The variety of the naoi set up at Saft el-Henna is a precursor to the slightly later situation at Bubastis, and hints at a sense of experimentation amongst the priests of Saft el-Henna in the early part of the 30th dynasty, whether in terms of the actual compositions or simply the architectural projection of these
themes.14One of the Bubastis naoi did contain a significant
religious text, but without a narrative structure (Rondot 1989). The Saft el-Henna naos, not the earliest naos featuring this type of iconography, but by far the most dense and encyclopaedic, contains several references to the use of papyrus-rolls in carving the divine figures on the walls of the naos. This is not surprising in itself, as temple and tomb decoration is often thought to have been based on layouts and content recorded, or at least outlined, upon, papyrus. However, in cases where a new form of
iconography is introduced, what sources were being used? Cult manuals, in which mythologies associated with certain localities were developed upon, would be an obvious place to feature depictions of divine forms. These would have been stored and consulted in temple libraries, including the much- discussed House of Life. References to the types of texts housed in these ‘institutions’ include ‘the annals (gnwt) of the gods and goddesses in the House of Life’ (Gardiner 1938: 161) and ‘that which contains the gods’ (imi nTr.w: Derchain 1964: 101). Did these hold information that could have been used as a background or source for naos decoration? Several surviving papyri, principally of the Ptolemaic or Roman periods, may have also have fulfilled such a role. The Delta Cult Manual is still unpublished (see Meeks 1989), but the Tanis Geographical Papyri (Petrie 1889) and Papyrus Jumilhac (Vandier 1962) both list or evoke specifics for various sanctuaries, including myths, rituals, festivals, the names and dimensions of sacred images, emblems, trees and lakes. Each locality is afforded varying amounts of information, presumably reflecting its ancient importance, at least in the context of the aims of each papyrus. P.Jumilhac does feature depictions of gods in a style reminiscent of the naoi decoration (Vandier 1962, particularly pls.1–3, 19–21), though a relatively small number in relation to the amount of textual content. It seems likely that some of these papyri were compiled from several original compositions. The bringing of
divine images from other temples to a particular festival would act as a visual reminder of the vast array of divine iconography found in images throughout Egypt (e.g. during the Khoiak festival: Sauneron 1962: 47–67).
Magical or prophylactic monuments for individuals, including stelae, cippi and healing-statues, can feature several registers of protective deities, often carved in a very summary
fashion, and without names.15The style of representation and
the lack of labels is partly due to the scale of most of these monuments. Nonetheless, the range of poses and forms of the deities echoes that of temple reliefs, and it is possible that some of the more unusual forms upon the naoi, such as the fantastical creature on the Bubastis shrine (Fig.9), developed out of compositions in this less formal sphere. However, many of the depictions on the cippi and healing statues are shown attacking snakes and scorpions with weapons , and there are a profusion of reptiles and insects illustrated, echoing the concerns voiced in the accompanying texts. The crypts at Tod suggest statuary housed in temples could also take these forms (Thiers 2003b). These prophylactic objects were evidently intended to provide protection through the depictions upon them. Of course, the beneficiary of this protective envelope was to be the dedicant of the stela or healing statue, as well as those who would seek benefits from these monuments.
There is a clear distinction between this type of divine iconography and that found in temple reliefs, which are more restrained in terms of iconography. The Bubastis naos and its parallels seem to occupy a zone somewhere in between, within a traditional framework but including divine images more familiar from contexts other than formal temple reliefs, especially if one considers only temples likely to have been extant at the time. Of course, these naoi were set up in sanctuaries or chapels, generally at some distance from the public areas of the temple, whereas the healing statues would be set up in the courtyards and outer halls of the temple (for examples of healing statues and cippi set up in temples, see Ritner 1989: 105–6).
Furthermore, it is interesting that elements of the divine iconography upon these naoi are found in other contexts, particularly in the funerary arena. Guardian figures common on
Late Period sarcophagi (e.g. Goyon 1985: 236–43, pls.35–7)16are
also found in temples (e.g. Junker and Winter 1965: 112–13). The lengthy rows of gods in the Ain el-Muftella chapel of
Djedkhonsuefankh provide a more distant iconographic parallel to the temple reliefs and naos decoration discussed here. The purpose of the gods in this tomb is far from clear, though there are overtly protective entities such as Bastet and Mahes, and a sense of Egypt-wide geographical references embedded in local cult space (Labrique 2004). Much later, Roman, tombs in ed- Dakhla oasis also feature divine imagery (Osing et al. 1982: 71–96, pls.20–33), in some cases mirroring the arrangement found in temples in the same oasis (Kaper 1997: 208). Though some of these tomb scenes are familiar from New Kingdom tombs and the Book of the Dead, there are parallels to the iconography of the monolithic temple naoi (compare the baboon with bow, Colour Pl. 4 and Osing et al. 1982: pl.20 [b]), particularly with depictions of the phases of Osiride resurrection (e.g. Petrie 1908: pls.40–1). The fantastical creature on the Bubastis naos (Fig.9) also recalls vignettes in the Book of the Dead.
4. The Role of the Naos