Latest / Ramses the Great: Egypt's Most Powerful Pharaoh — Fexingo History / Ramses the Great's Scribe Network: Bureaucracy of Empire
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Ramses the Great's monuments, his wars, even his dentists. But there's a whole class of people who made all that possible, and we haven't really touched them. I'm talking about the scribes. Luna: The people who wrote everything down? Lucas: Exactly. And they were everywhere. In Egypt, the scribe — they called him sesh — was the backbone of the state. Without them, the grain wouldn't be counted, the taxes wouldn't be collected, the temples wouldn't get their offerings, and the pharaoh's orders would dissolve into rumor. They were the ones who turned royal will into reality. Lucas: And Ramses, with his sixty-seven-year reign and his massive building projects, probably had one of the largest bureaucracies Egypt had ever seen. The scribal class was enormous, and they were trained in something called the House of Life, which was attached to temples and palaces. There, young boys — and it was almost always boys — would learn not just to write, but to compose letters, to draft legal documents, and to memorize long lists of items. Luna: So it was like an ancient school for bureaucrats. What kind of tests did they have? Lucas: Well, we have a famous text called the 'Satire of the Trades,' which was basically a required reading for scribal students. It's a warning: if you don't study hard, you'll end up as a bricklayer or a fisherman, and it paints those jobs in the most miserable terms. It says the bricklayer's clothes are always ragged, and the weaver's knees are pressed against his chest all day. But the scribe, it says, 'is the one who commands the work of all men.' Lucas: So there was real incentive to succeed. And the scribes themselves — they weren't just copyists. They were administrators, accountants, and even engineers. They designed the pyramids, kept track of harvests, and managed the labor forces. In fact, when Ramses moved his capital to Per-Ramesses in the Delta, he had to have a whole network of scribes to manage the grain silos, the temple estates, and the military barracks. Luna: It sounds like a huge operation. Do we have any records of what a typical day was like for one of these scribes? Lucas: We do, actually. There are lots of practical documents that survive — receipts, letters, legal contracts. And they paint a picture of a very methodical world. Let me give you a specific example. There's a letter from a scribe named Huy, stationed at Per-Ramesses, to his colleague Butehamun, who was in Thebes. Huy writes about a shipment of copper tools that hadn't arrived yet, and he's worried because the temple construction project is stalled. He also asks Butehamun to send some new papyrus rolls because he's run out. Lucas: And in another text, we have a scribe named Paheri, in the reign of Thutmose III, but it's the same kind of job. He says, 'I have never been beaten by any superior, and I have never been reproached for my work.' That was the ideal — to be efficient, accurate, and indispensable. Luna: So accuracy was everything. What happened if a scribe made a mistake? Lucas: Well, we actually have evidence of mistakes, and they were sometimes caught and corrected. In one tax record, a scribe wrote down a number, then crossed it out and wrote the correct figure above it. So they did check their work. But there's also a funny story — and it's more of a joke in the texts — about a scribe who got a name wrong in a legal document and had to pay a fine. Lucas: But the stakes could be high. If you misrecorded a harvest, the whole region might get the wrong tax burden. And if you messed up a royal decree, well, that could be treason. So they had to be precise — and they developed a whole cursive script to write faster. It's called hieratic, and it was the everyday handwriting of the scribes, used on papyrus and potsherds. Hieroglyphs were for monuments, but hieratic was for business. Luna: Right, like shorthand for the ancient world. Lucas: Exactly. And the scribes were also the ones who kept the records of the workmen at Deir el-Medina, the village of the tomb builders. That's one of the most amazing sources we have — thousands of ostraca, or pottery fragments, with notes about rations, tools, even personal messages. One worker wrote to his son, 'Don't forget to bring the donkey.' Another complained that his neighbor had stolen his chisel. Lucas: So through these scribes, we hear the voices of ordinary Egyptians, not just the pharaohs. They were the ones who made sure the men who carved the tombs got their bread and beer. Luna: That's incredible. So the scribes were like the connective tissue of the whole civilization. Lucas: That's a perfect way to put it. And, you know, it's that kind of documentation that lets us, three thousand years later, reconstruct daily life in ancient Egypt. All those bits of pottery and rolls of papyrus — they're a gift from the past. And it makes you think about how much of our own history we preserve. That's actually something a listener recently reminded me of. Lucas: They wrote in to say that they value this show because it's like a digital archive — a way of keeping these stories alive. And that's true. And if you've been enjoying these conversations and want to help keep them ad-free, you can support us at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's a small gesture that keeps this kind of history accessible to everyone. Luna: Yeah, I think we all just want to keep history alive. Lucas: Now, one thing that often surprises people is that even though scribes were so important, literacy in ancient Egypt was actually quite rare. We used to think that the Egyptians idealized the scribe, but the reality is that maybe only one or two percent of the population could read and write. That makes the scribal class even more elite — they were the gatekeepers of knowledge. Lucas: And they had their own gods, too. The god Thoth was their patron, and they called him the 'scribe of the gods.' There's even a famous statue of a seated scribe, from the Old Kingdom, where he's depicted with a papyrus roll on his lap — he looks calm, confident, ready to record whatever comes next. Luna: So being a scribe wasn't just a job — it was a calling. Lucas: Absolutely. And Ramses the Great himself was very aware of the power of the written word. He had his name and his victories carved on temples all over Egypt, and he also employed a team of scribes to compose his own official history. That's how we know about the Battle of Kadesh, and the Hittite treaty, and all his building projects. Without those scribes, we would know far less about him. Lucas: In fact, when we look at the Abu Simbel temple, there are inscriptions inside that mention the scribes who were responsible for recording the pharaoh's achievements. They weren't anonymous — they were proud of their work, and they wanted their names remembered, just like the pharaoh. Luna: I love that. They were like the original historians. Lucas: They really were. And it's because of them that we can tell this story at all. So next time you see a hieroglyphic inscription, remember the scribe behind it — the one who sat cross-legged, with a palette of inks, and who turned a king's words into eternity. Lucas: It's also worth remembering that the scribes weren't just in the temples and palaces. They were in the fields, at the quarries, on the docks, in the army. Every major enterprise had its scribes. The army needed them to keep track of supplies and rations. The navy needed them to log voyages. And the temple estates were the biggest landholders in Egypt, so the scribes were busy recording every sack of barley and every calf born. Luna: It's like they were the original spreadsheets. Lucas: Exactly. And they had a whole vocabulary for different types of records. There was the 'day book', the 'yearly register', the 'inspection report'. They even had separate scribes for the granary, the treasury, the army, and the temple. It was a huge administrative machine, and it worked remarkably well for centuries. Lucas: But there was also a downside to this bureaucracy. When Egypt went through periods of trouble, like the late New Kingdom, the system could become corrupt. We have records of officials embezzling grain, and of tomb robbers who had accomplices in the administration. So the scribal class wasn't perfect — but they were essential. Luna: So even back then, you had red tape and corruption. Lucas: Oh, absolutely. And there is one famous papyrus from the reign of Ramses XI, called the 'Tomb Robbery Papyri', where officials are being questioned about thefts from royal tombs. The scribe records the confessions, the beatings, and the verdicts. It's a fascinating look at how the system tried to police itself. Lucas: But for Ramses the Great, the system worked. He had a skilled vizier named Paser, who we've talked about before, and Paser had a team of scribes under him who managed everything from border security to water rights. They were the ones who made sure that the 'Hapi' — that is, the Nile's flood — was measured, and that the taxes were fair. Luna: It's amazing to think how much of their system we still recognize today. Lucas: Yeah, bureaucracy hasn't changed much. But the scribes also had a creative side. They composed love poems, hymns, and instructions on how to live a good life. Some of those texts are so beautifully written that we still read them today. There's a poem that goes, 'When I kiss her, her lips open, and I am drunk without beer.' That's from an Egyptian love song. Luna: That's lovely. So they weren't just number-crunchers; they were poets, too. Lucas: They were. And that's what makes studying Egypt so rich — you see the whole spectrum of human experience, from the mundane to the sublime. And it's all thanks to the scribes who took the time to write it down. So let's give them their due, the next time you see a hieroglyph, tip your imaginary hat to the sesh who carved it. Luna: I will. And maybe I'll even try to write my name in hieroglyphs. Lucas: Do it. And if you do, you'll be joining a tradition that goes back five thousand years. And that's a pretty good way to end. Until next time, keep digging into the past.