Latest / Ramses the Great: Egypt's Most Powerful Pharaoh — Fexingo History / Ramses the Great's Colossal Statues: Power in Stone
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Ramses's building projects — the temples, the cities, the reliefs. But today I want to focus on something that really defines his image: the colossal statues. Luna: You mean those huge seated figures at Abu Simbel? Lucas: Those are the most famous, but there were many more. Ramses had colossal statues of himself placed at nearly every major temple he built or renovated — at the Ramesseum, at Luxor, at Karnak, at Pi-Ramesses. And they weren't just decoration. They were central to his propaganda machine. Lucas: These statues were meant to be seen from a distance, to overwhelm the viewer. The biggest ones were over 60 feet tall. Imagine standing at the base of one of those — it's meant to make you feel small, to impress upon you the pharaoh's power and his connection to the gods. Luna: But how did they even move something that huge? I mean, we're talking about granite, right? Lucas: Exactly — most of them were carved from Aswan granite, which was quarried about 150 miles south of Thebes. The logistics were staggering. They'd quarry a single block of stone weighing hundreds of tons, then move it onto a sled, drag it to the Nile, load it onto a barge, float it downstream, and then drag it again to the temple site. All with ropes, wooden rollers, and thousands of workers. Lucas: And the carving itself — the statues were probably roughed out at the quarry, then finished on site. The precision is incredible. The symmetry, the proportions, the detail in the face — Ramses wanted to be recognized. He wanted every statue to look like him, with the same broad features, the same double crown. Luna: It's almost like branding, isn't it? Like a logo across the empire. Lucas: That's exactly the right word. It was a form of imperial branding. And it worked — even today, when people think of ancient Egypt, they often think of Ramses's face on those statues. But there's a darker side too. The statues were also about obliterating his predecessors. At Luxor, for example, Ramses took earlier statues and reinscribed them with his own name. He was literally rewriting history. Lucas: And then there's the famous fallen colossus at the Ramesseum — the one that inspired the poet Shelley's 'Ozymandias'. You know the poem: 'Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' But when Shelley wrote that, the statue was already broken, lying in the sand. So there's this irony — the pharaoh who wanted to be eternal, reduced to rubble. Luna: That poem is so powerful. It really captures the fragility of power, doesn't it? Lucas: Absolutely. And Shelley never even saw the statue. He read about it in a book. But the image stuck. And it's true — the colossus at the Ramesseum was already in pieces by the time Greek historians wrote about it. So even in antiquity, Ramses's monuments were decaying. But that's also part of the story — the statues were so massive that they couldn't be completely destroyed. They just... sit there, half-buried, for centuries. Lucas: But let's go back to Abu Simbel for a moment. The four seated colossi at the entrance are each about 66 feet tall. They're carved directly into the cliff face, so they're not freestanding. That's a different technique — it's more like a rock-cut sculpture. And the effect is stunning: they emerge from the mountain, as if the pharaoh is part of the landscape itself. Luna: And they were relocated in the 1960s, right? When the Aswan Dam was built? Lucas: Yes, that was a massive international effort. The statues were cut into blocks, moved to higher ground, and reassembled. So they survived again — but this time thanks to modern engineering. But not all of Ramses's colossi were so lucky. Many were destroyed by earthquakes, or reused as building material. Some were even recarved by later pharaohs who wanted to claim them for themselves. Lucas: So in a way, the story of Ramses's colossi is a story about the limits of power. He tried to make himself eternal, but time and nature had other plans. And yet, parts of his image survive — in museums, in ruins, in poems. That's more than most pharaohs achieved. Luna: It's amazing that we can still see his face after 3,000 years. Lucas: And it's not just his face — it's the message he wanted to send. Every colossal statue was a statement: 'I am Ramses, beloved of the gods, lord of the Two Lands. Look upon me and know your place.' And for better or worse, that message still resonates. Lucas: You know, if you've been coming with us through these conversations about North Africa and the ancient world, you might have noticed that putting this show together takes a lot of digging — through books, articles, site reports. And it's only possible because a few listeners chip in a couple of dollars a month. If you've gotten something out of these episodes, buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo — that's buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It genuinely makes a difference, keeps the show ad-free, and lets us keep exploring topics like these. Luna: Yeah, it really does help. And we're grateful for every bit of support. Lucas: So back to the statues — one more thing I find fascinating is the sheer variety. Not all were seated. Ramses also had standing colossi, some over 30 feet tall. And some were made of different stone — quartzite, diorite — depending on what was available. Each material had its own symbolic meaning. Granite was associated with eternity, for example. Lucas: And the inscriptions on the base or the back pillar — they're not just identifying labels. They're full of titles and epithets, like 'The strong bull, beloved of Maat' or 'The one who smites the nine bows'. Every element was carefully chosen to reinforce the image of Ramses as warrior, as lawgiver, as god-king. Luna: So the statues were like 3D versions of the smiting scenes we talked about earlier. Lucas: Exactly. They're part of the same propaganda campaign. But while the reliefs show action, the statues show stability. They're static, eternal, unmoving — like the pharaoh's rule itself. And that's a powerful message, especially in a world where dynasties rise and fall. Lucas: I think that's why Shelley's poem still resonates. Because underneath the grandeur, there's a recognition that all power is temporary. But in Ramses's case, he came closer than most to achieving immortality — not through magic, but through stone. Luna: And through poetry, indirectly. Lucas: Yes. In a strange way, the fallen statue at the Ramesseum made Ramses more famous than an intact one ever could. It became a symbol — a warning — and that gave it a second life. So maybe Ramses did achieve a kind of eternity, just not the one he intended.